The Ultimate Battleship
Title: The Ultimate Battleship, Part 1 - Ships in Port
Author: Nopporn Wongrassamee aka The Evil Author
Summary: Third in the Ultimate Scooby Gang series. The gang deals with their ultimate relationship issues.
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to whoever owns them. I’m just too lazy to look up who they are.
[Censored by the Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda]: Cross between BtVS and... everything goes. But this is set in Forever Knight's Toronto.
Lucien Lacroix did not like this new vampire. He brooded too much, reminding Lacroix too much of his lost Nicolas.
“So, what brings you Toronto?” Lacroix asked as he wiped a glass. He occasionally tended bar for amusement. The younger vampire sat across from him nursing a drink.
“I have some of my paintings on display at the local art fair,” the younger vampire explained. He opened a sketchbook and showed its contents to Lacroix. The drawings were quite good. “My art reflects my somber personality. It’s an expression of all my pain and regrets accumulated from my two and a half centuries of existence.” The younger vampire leaned in close. “Also, I’m hoping to meet some really hot chicks.”
Lacroix raised an eyebrow.
“Hey,” the artist said, flashing an arrogant grin that was entirely at odds with his previous somber manner, “girls just love the dark loner guy.”
Yes, Lacroix definitely did not like this vampire.
Aboard a nameless Firefly class transport, a scream echoed through the corridors.
“Willow!” Buffy called in concern as she ripped the bathroom door off its hinges. The scream had originated from there. “Are you okay?”
“Oh!” Willow exclaimed, startled. “Sorry, Buff. We had a quiet moment and I tried a spell to fix my hair and you see…”
“It’s green now,” Buffy observed. “Sort of a nice shimmering emerald green. Looks good, Willow, very punk.”
“I was trying to turn it red again,” Willow wailed. “I can do spells to flatten evil twins and blow demons away at will, but I can’t fix my hair. Why can’t I fix my hair? It seems like the…”
“Willow, calm down,” Buffy told her friend, placing her hands on the witch’s shoulders. “Focus. We’ll deal with your hair do when we’re less busy.”
“Less busy?” Willow repeated.
The whole ship rattled and the screech of metal tearing could be heard.
“Guys,” Xander’s voice came over the intercom, “we’re not getting any deeper than this. All these tentacle things have grabbed hold of the ship.”
“Okay, Xand,” Buffy acknowledged, using a nearby communications panel to reply. Wonders of wonders, she didn’t accidentally smash it. “Get down to the cargo bay. We’ll meet you there.” She turned back to Willow. “Busy. As in busy taking out a giant, planet eating machine from the inside with some kind of fancy super bomb.”
“Oh yeah,” Willow said. “Right, let’s go.”
“So how’s the gizmo, Watcherman?” Xander was asking as Buffy and Willow arrived. Aside from the gang, only two things stood in the ship’s spacious cargo bay. One was the TARDIS, the gang’s primary means of interdimensional transport. The other was a six foot tall cylinder that they had “liberated” from another reality.
“The Device is fully functional,” the Watcher replied. He pointed at a big, red button labeled ON. “Once activated, we will have five minutes to depart. And do not call me ‘Watcherman’.”
“Cool,” Buffy said. Without warning, her hand flashed out and hit the ON switch. The crystal globe at the cylinder’s center started glowing.
“Once started, the process cannot be stopped,” the Watcher said, appalled.
“What, we need five minutes to get in there and get gone?” Buffy asked, pointing at the TARDIS. It was only five feet away.
The ship shook again, and more metal screeched. A rent appeared in one of the walls. Readying their various weapons, the gang was surprised when a seemingly ordinary wolf with silvery fur squeezed through the crack in the hull.
“That is not a real wolf,” Willow proclaimed when she focused her magical senses on it.
As if in reply, the faux wolf changed, parts of it folding and unfolding into a humanoid robot form. The robot pulled out a gun, turned, and shot up some metal tentacles that tried to follow it inside. It turned to look back towards them.
“Can I get a lift out of here?” the robot asked.
Unicron, devourer of worlds, orbited above the planet called Earth. Earth held vast quantities of valuable Energon deep in its crust. Turning its vast maw toward the planet, Unicron practically ignored the pitiful defenses thrown up by the natives and their Cybertronian allies.
Then the world bot shuddered. A pinprick of brilliant light appeared in Unicron’s side, spreading inside and on the surface at tremendous velocity. A psychic roar was cut off as Unicron and anyone who was much too close was entirely consumed.
Within hours, Earth had a new moon, a little worldlet teeming with plant life created by the Genesis Device.
In another reality, there was an Earth without transforming robots, starships, or semi-annual apocalypses. This Earth did have vampires though. The Raven, owned and operated by one Lucien Lacroix, was a hang out for these vampires. The Raven had been many things over the years. It had been a Goth nightclub under the previous owner. When Lacroix had acquired ownership, he had changed it into a strip joint. These days, the Raven was a coffee house, serving some exotic blends to the vampire customers.
Lacroix’s quiet conversation was interrupted when a boisterous crowd burst in through the door. They were a mixed looking group. One young woman with blonde hair was dressed in form fitting leather pants and vest with an ornate axe slung across her back. The other woman in her sweater and jeans would have been more conservative except that her hair was a glaring shade of neon pink and green stripes. The young man all in black with coat and sunglasses looked like something out of a movie. The older man was flamboyantly dressed in a mix of styles that even Lacroix knew were centuries out of date. A wolf followed the quartet to their table.
Sitting at their table, the strange group seemed to be having fun. Lacroix’s vampire hearing picked up fragments of their conversation. They seemed to be celebrating some kind of victory.
“Friends of yours?” the artist asked Lacroix as the young man left to go to the rest room.
“No,” Lacroix replied. “I have never seen them before.”
“Good, then your don’t mind if I…” The artist trailed off with a suggestive gesture.
“Er, did you guys know that this place is full of vampires?” Lacroix overheard the girl with the exotic hair say to her companions.
“Yeah, isn’t it great?” the blonde replied enthusiastically. “After drinks, we can go slaughter them all.”
Almost every conversation in the Raven ground to a halt.
“Buffy, I think they can hear you,” the older man said nervously.
“Yeah, so?” Buffy said, completely unconcerned.
“Speaking as one concerned primarily with his own skin,” the older man continued, “you might want to reconsider. The vampires of this reality are a relatively placid lot, not inclined to kill humans or world domination. They even have what you primitives call souls.”
“So, no vampire slaying?” Buffy said slowly.
“Only in self defense,” the other girl said.
“Fine, ruin my fun. Only in self defense,” Buffy pouted.
As conversations slowly resumed throughout the Raven, Lacroix noticed that many vampires moved to tables farther from the strange group.
Stepping into the alley behind the Raven, Xander took a quick look around. It was dark and he didn’t see anybody. But someone was here. Xander could sense the buzz of another Immortal. He drew his sword from the folds of his coat.
“Who are you, boy?” a harsh but feminine voice demanded from the shadows. It was naggingly familiar, but Xander couldn’t quite identify it.
“Xander Harris, formerly of Sunnydale,” Xander replied. There was a moment of silence. “Are you going to tell me who you are or are you just going to ambush me from the shadows?”
“Ambush? Please, I am not some weak woman who needs to cheat to get her heads,” sneered the other Immortal as she stepped from the shadows. Xander’s jaw dropped when he saw her. “I am Anyanka Aud of Norway,” she proclaimed, leveling her broadsword at him. “Are you prepared to defend your Quickening?”
“So, what’s your name?” Willow asked the robot wolf when Buffy got up to get more drinks. “I can’t believe we forgot to ask up until now.”
“It’s okay,” the robot replied, shrugging. It looked impressive considering that he was still in wolf form. “I’m Ozitron. Friends call me Oz.”
“Hey, could we get another round of cappuccinos?” Buffy said to Lacroix when she got to the bar.
“Of course,” Lacroix replied smoothly as he began putting together her order. “I trust you’ll refrain from – ahem – slaughtering us all?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t remind me,” Buffy said grumpily. She turned and noticed the vampire artist who was busy trying to make himself invisible. Lacroix saw Buffy’s mood apparently do a complete one eighty. “Hi, I’m Buffy,” she said to the artist in a cheerful voice. “Have we met before?”
“Er, no, we haven’t,” the artist replied. Then seeing that a beautiful woman appeared to be smitten with him, the artist grew more confident. “I’m Angel.”