Twilight of the Star Vampires (Set of Books 1-3):A Parody of the Twilight Saga, Star Wars and Star Trek

by Paula Sunsong

  “But sir, I don’t know how to…” said Seetoop’od.

  “Quiet, listen to your new owner.” Honest Al turned to Luck. “I’ll throw in this droid for no extra charge. What do you say, Luck?”

  “It’s a deal!”

  Chapter 22 Oh Be Gone

  Auntie Mame was dubious of the value of the robots when she saw them, but to her credit she said nothing to Luck. They could test the robots out in the field the next day before passing judgement on their performance.

  “Go clean the robots up and make sure they are well oiled,” said Auntie Mame. “Your Uncle will be putting them through their paces tomorrow.”

  Luck took the robots to the tool shed for cleaning. Luck was trying to get Aretoo to play a cassette tape of whale mating calls when Aretoo’s head popped open. A hologram played of a young woman in a white dress and moon boots.

  The beginning of the message was garbled. Only the last sentence made sense.

  “Help me Obegone, you owe my mother for the long distance phone calls,” said the woman in the hologram. Then she shot off a blaster and ran from Imperial guards.

  “Good aim,” said Luck, as he saw her hit one guard with a stun blast.

  The message faded out, only to repeat the same thing, the garbled beginning, the last sentence and the fighting sequence.

  “I wonder if the Obegone she is talking about is the crazy man living in the desert?”

  Aretoo whistled in agreement.

  “Luck, time to spread the manure,” called Uncle Matt from outside the tool shed.

  Luck gagged at the thought of the manure stench.

  “I can’t do that until…until I find the missing robot,” said Luck to his Uncle. “It went looking for Obegone in the desert. I need to go bring it back.”

  “Hurry back, this manure isn’t going to spread itself you know,” said Uncle Matt.

  “Yes, Uncle.”

  Luck snuck the robots out to his hovercar. He’d pretend to find Aretoo near Obegone’s home. Luck snickered to himself. By the time he got back from Obegone’s place, his impatient Uncle would have finished spreading the manure.

  Obegone’s home was in an isolated area, where the cliffs ended near the untamed desert. Before Luck could knock, the door opened.

  “I knew this day would come, when you would seek me out,” said Obegone, “ever since the day I spirited you away from the man believing himself to be your father.”

  “I came because this ‘bot has a message for you, and I didn’t want to spread manure,” said Luck. “You knew my father?”

  “I never met your real father. I heard he was very talented. He was the best bowler in the galaxy,” said Obegone. “He could balance six bowling pins on his forehead while singing Jabya the Hot was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine,” Obegone started singing. “Never understood a single word he said…”

  “Um, about my father...”

  “Oh, yes, Luck.” Obegone opened up a carved wooden trunk and lifted out a light sword. “Your real father had to hide from the Vulcanturi, the powerful and dangerous Vampire Vullcans. The man wrongly believing himself to be your father was a Jetti pupil of mine. Not a good one, but he used what little powers he had for evil, after being turned to the dark side.”

  “My wrong father was a Jetti?” Luck picked up Obegone’s light sword and swished it through the air.

  “He was training to be a Jetti and used a light sword. Light swords are not as crude as a blaster. It’s a more elegant weapon, from a more elegant time of slashing, killing, maiming, warfare, burning villages, smashing space fighters into space stations…” Obegone’s eyes gleamed with fond remembrance.

  “A better time,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

  After a moment, Obegone turned to the robot. “Well, let’s see what this little ‘bot has to say.” He stepped on the foot pedal and the lid popped open. A holographic message played on Aretoo’s head. A young woman’s image appeared.

  “I’ve encoded the map to the Imperial Dearth star in this ‘bot’s head. The Dearth Star is a threat to the freedom loving rebellion. Only those of good heart and sound mind can decode the map. And those with the secret decoder ring. Help me Obegone, you owe my mother for the long distance phone calls.”

  “I’ll get my ring,” Obegone left the room. He returned a moment later with a cereal box.

  “Great, I’m hungry, “ said Luck. “But I’d rather have a steak.”

  “Young man, this is not for eating.” Obegone poured the frosted flakes onto the ground.

  “What a waste!” groaned Luck.

  “This is where I hide my decoder ring. A clever hiding place—the Imperial Troops could search a hundred years and never find it.” He held up a large neon green ring. “I’ll soon expose this enigma.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ll peel back the layers of confusion and reveal the hidden mystery.”

  “What?”

  “Finished!” Oh held up a piece of paper on which he had decoded the secret message. “Blue jacket, tan pants, one long white dress…strange…twelve pairs of mismatched socks…could it be secret directions?… One white jacket…this is no map, this is a laundry list!”

  “What a waste of corn flakes,” said Luck looking at the flake covered floor.

  “Luck!”

  “Yes?”

  “Luck, you must find the princess and get the real map from her.”

  “Me?”

  “How many Lucks are here?” Obegone fixed a penetrating gaze at Luck.

  Luck gulped.

  Obegone, Luck, and the ‘bots sped along in Luck’s hovercar over the dry desert ground. Ahead in the distance was smoke.

  Aretoo whistled a warning sound.

  “Smoke! I’ll get closer,” said Luck. He pushed on the gas.

  “Caution, Luck, don’t be a lead foot,” said Oh.

  Luck looked confused, glanced at his foot, thinking it was not lead but flesh and blood clad in plastic boots, but slowed down anyway.

  As they neared the source of the smoke, they could see an overturned van. Around it lay short, black hooded forms.

  “The Javas!” cried Luck, leaping out of the hovercar. He feared great disaster. The local county would never wake up without the Java’s strong brew. It could not be lost forever!

  Luck kneeled next to a Java, and quickly raised its head.

  “Bagaaaa, @###!” said the Java.

  “Sorry,” said Luck. “Didn’t mean to hurt you. Boy, you swear like a sailor.” Luck put the Java’s head to rest back on the sand. “What happened?”

  “Ba Oooteehee!” said the Java.

  “Imperial Troops? Why would they attack an expresso drink van?” said Luck.

  “Perhaps they needed the caffeine, sir,” said Seetoop’od.

  “Maanoo. Bylaa.”

  “They thought you were selling robots? You told them all you sold were drinks and they didn’t believe you?”

  “Yaaaa. Boogaa.”

  “Plus they thought your coffee tasted like motor oil.”

  “Yaaaa.”

  “They’ll recover Luck,” said Obegone, resting a reassuring hand on Luck’s shoulder. “They’re a strong race and well fortified with stimulants. We must move on.” Some of the Javas were now standing up. They began picking up sugar cubes, foam cups and plastic stirrers strewn around the overturned van. Javas tried to scrap cream spilled on the sand into tiny plastic cups for reuse.

  “Yes, Obegone. I’m resolved,” said Luck.

  “To fight the Empire?”

  “To never buy coffee from these people again. Especially any with sugar and cream.”

  Obegone patted Luck on the shoulder. “You are already learning the ways of wisdom.”

  After the Java had recovered, Obegone and Luck went to Aunt Mame and Uncle’s farm. Smoke rose from their house.

  “Uncle, Auntie Mame!” said Luck jumping out of the hovercar and rushing towards his home.

  “Luck, be careful,” y
elled Obegone. “You may not wish to see what you find.”

  Luck ignored him and rushed ahead. He halted in the entranceway.

  “Oh my god!” he cried. Obegone ran up to be near him.

  “What is it, Luck? Not burning skeletal remains?”

  “No. A note,” said Luck reading out loud. “Dear Luck, Your uncle and I have decided to spread our wings. While you were gone a gentleman made a generous offer on the farm, and we decided to sell. You’re old enough to take care of yourself now. We have a lovely new home, at the Flooridah retirement acres for Feisty Seniors. We’ve burned the garbage. Please defrost the refrigerator and tidy up as the new owners will be moving in next week. P.S. We sold your Magic, The Gathering Card collection.”

  Luck looked at Obegone. “There’s nothing here for me now. I want to become a Jetti Knight and learn the ways of the farce.”

  Chapter 23 Jetti Bogey

  They drove the hovercar to a cliff overlooking the city of Mosteffa. Standing above the city, they looked down at the maze of city streets.

  “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy,” said Obegone, “except in the Imperial Senate.”

  “And certain used robot dealers,” added Luck.

  “Well said, Master Luck,” said Seetoop’od.

  They descended to the city. Luck drove, winding his way through the city streets. Suddenly they came upon Imperial troopers in white plastic armor blocking the way.

  “How long have you had these ‘bots?” demanded the trooper jerking his rifle in the direction of Seetoo and Aretoo.

  “Three or four hours,” said Luck. Obegone elbowed him. “Um, three or four seasons.”

  “Alright, sorry to trouble you, move along.” The trooper stepped back from Luck’s hovercar.

  “Don’t you want to see our Ids?” asked Obegone.

  “No,” said the trooper, studying his fingernails, or at least the glove of his suit.

  “Nice armor,” said Luck.

  “Thank you. It’s smart armor, isn’t it?” said the trooper standing up straighter.

  “Does it really stop laser blasts?” said Luck.

  “Thin plastic like this? No! It’s just for show. Does kind of get in the way of seeing, but it looks good.”

  “Sure does look good,” said Luck imagining himself in the armor.

  “Can’t sit in it either.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And when you have a full bladder, well, it’s not an easy on and off thing.”

  “Uh…” said Luck.

  “You sure you don’t want to see our Id?” asked Obegone.

  “Naaa,” said the trooper.

  “Ah, come on,” said Obegone eagerly.

  “Okay, show me your Id.” The trooper leaned lazily on the hovercar.

  “You don’t need to see our Id,” said Obegone waving his hand to use the farce on the trooper.

  “You’re right, I don’t need to see your Id,” said the trooper, “but you said you want to show it. Why are you waving your hand?”

  “No,” said Obegone waving his hand again. “You DON’T need to see our Id.”

  “Right,” said the trooper standing up. “Sure, don’t show it. Move along, fellows.”

  “I say it first,” said Obegone. “Then you say it.”

  “Huh?” said the trooper.

  “Never mind, Obegone,” said Luck. He moved the hovercar forward.

  “Bye,” said the trooper waving. He turned to his second in command. “Nice people. Strange old man, though.”

  “Let me go back, Luck,” said Obegone. “The farce has a strong effect on the weak-minded.”

  “I believe you, but we need to get to the bar before happy hour ends.”

  “Good thinking, Luck.”

  Several blocks and strange alien beasts later, they found the Village People space bar and parked out front. Music wafted out the open lavender colored front door, as two women went in together. Luck hopped out of the hovercar and eagerly followed them.

  Obegone grabbed Luck’s arm. Luck stopped with surprise, and turned to Obegone. He nodded towards the space bar.

  “Proceed with caution, Luck.”

  “Why, won’t we find a pilot in here?”

  “Yes, but watch your step.”

  “Because of the danger from bar scum?”

  “No, because of the alien beast doo-doo. Have you seen the size of some of those beasts?”

  Luck nodded sagely, and proceeded more cautiously, walking around a pile of brown mush the size of a manhole cover.

  The interior of the bar was dark, except for a dance floor lit from below with flashing lights.

  “Hey!” cried the bartender pointing behind Luck. “We don’t serve their kind.” Luck turned to see the robots. “They’ve got their own bar up the street,” said the bartender jerking his thumb to the right.

  “Go to the robot bar,” said Luck to Aretoo and Seetoo.

  “Yes, Master Luck,” said Seetoo. Aretoo whistled and rolled happily off towards the robot bar, visions of strawberry daiquiris floating through its head. “I hope the décor is acceptable,” said Seetoo following Aretoo. “I hate dive décor.”

  Luck went to the shiny plastic bar for a drink. After getting his order, he turned around to watch the dance floor. Music pounded out from the speakers above.

  “We are family,” sang a woman’s group over the speakers. The two women whom Luck had seen enter the bar were dancing together. Two aliens with long necks and snouts also danced together, their bodies undulating in inhuman ways to the beat.

  Luck looked towards Obegone. He was talking to various customers in his search for a ship.

  “Macho, macho, man. I’ve got to be a macho man!” sang a man’s voice over the speakers. Two human men got up to dance together.

  “Hmm, good dancers,” said Luck, “and snappy dressers, too.” More aliens got up to dance. Some looked like humanoid bats, goats or four eyed panda bears. Two women dressed in Cleopatra outfits danced together. All seemed to be having a good time.

  Obegone returned to Luck’s side.

  “Funny, no one has a spaceship for rent. My sources said this was an excellent bar for pilots.” Obegone looked at the dance floor. “Oh, all those young people having fun reminds me of my youth!”

  “Y-M-C-A, its fun to stay at the YMCA,” sang a man.

  An alien who reminded Luck of a camel walking on two legs approached Luck.

  “Bloog van dola?” said the alien.

  “What is he saying,” said Luck to Obegone.

  “He wants to know if you’re male or female.”

  “Male,” said Luck to the camel thing. The camel held out his hand and nodded towards the dance floor.

  “Wait, Luck,” said Obegone. “I just realized, we’re in the wrong bar. This isn’t the space pilot’s dive bar. This is much too nice.”

  “Oh,” said Luck, looking disappointed. The camel hovered nearby, looking uncertain.

  “We should go to the right bar so we can find a ship,” said Obegone.

  Luck looked sadly at the dance floor.

  “Okay, Luck. One dance. I understand. I was young once.”

  Luck smiled.

  Luck and the camel-like alien went to the dance floor. The camel thing shook its back hump to the beat. Obegone stepped onto the dance floor with one of the four eyed panda bears. Obegone twirled, then used the farce to levitate off the floor while still spinning.

  “Oooo! Wow!” said the crowd, stepping back to watch, clapping in time to the music. Obegone did a mid-air back flip, landing in a split. He hopped to his feet, then began dancing like a Russian Cossack, arms crossed and legs kicking. The last few bars of the song played, while Obegone did a triple somersault, landing perfectly on his feet on the last note.

  The audience applauded and cheered.

  “Wow, Obegone,” said Luck. “Teach me the dance ways of the farce.”

  “When you are more experienced,” said Obegone, a touch prou
d.

  They left the bar, collected a wobbly Aretoo and Seetoo from the robot bar, and proceeded to the space pilot bar down the street.

  Chapter 24 Strip Poker

  After wandering the streets for 45 minutes, they finally found the space pilots bar. Aretoo could not locate it using the GPS, as the frozen strawberry daiquiris had partly frozen its circuits.

  Luck went off to use the bathroom, something he didn’t like to do alone. He tried to ask Obegone to go with him, but Obegone just shuddered at the suggestion. One of the things Luck hated about bathrooms was the urinals that were set up for various sizes and shapes of aliens. One was too high, and one had three urinals stacked on top of each other. Luck gave up and went in the stall.

  When Luck returned to the bar, Obegone turned to him.

  “Chewurbacka is first mate on a ship that might just suit us,” said Obegone stepping to the side to reveal a creature that looked like a salivating wolf standing on two legs.

  “Look out, it’s a werewolf!” yelled Luck diving underneath a table filled with kangaroo looking aliens.

  “Calm down, Luck,” said Obegone. “Chewy is tame.” Obegone turned to pet the creature on the top of his head. Chewy thumped his foot in response.

  Mumbling angrily, the alien kangaroo creatures kicked Luck out from under their table. Luck landed at the foot of Chewy the werewolf. Chewy placed his front paws on Luck and growled.

  “Give him a treat, Luck,” said Obegone.

  Luck looked at his pockets, almost empty of dog treats. Luck had bought them at what he thought was a pretzel stand, and had been munching on them during the 45 minutes of looking for the right bar.

  Luck pulled the last treat out of his pocket, and tossed it to Chewy. Chewy caught it in mid-air. He ate it in two bites, wagged his tail, and let Luck stand up.

  Chewurbacka led them to a table in a darkened corner of the bar. It was covered with a plastic red and white checkered tablecloth, with a basket of bread sticks in the middle. They sat down. There was a shimmering over Chewy’s body, and his form turned from a wolf into that of a muscular man.

  “No hard feelings,” said Chewy. “I’ll buy you drinks.” Chewy motioned over a waiter-bot. Luck stared, amazed at the transformation.