Astra Zartraxx: Humorous Space Adventurer

Space Isn't For Chumps

Forsalis IV glittered like tears in the rain in the light of it's artificial sun, which was currently on it's western sunset setting. It would remind the casual watcher of sea breams glittering in the dark on Munchausen's plate, or was it attached ships on fire at the Boulder of Obrion? Well, something like that anyway. Whatever that knife runner movie had been on about. Impressive anyway. Above all, it glittered expensively.

 For the Forsalis Entertainment and Leisure Solar System had been a ludicrously costly enterprise, one that could only have been accomplished by the go to company in live entertainment, Forsalis Inc.

 When Bartle Grenn C314, founder and innovator, visionary and leader, had first surveyed his father's bakery, he'd had big plans for it, even the boring bits in the back that no-one ever saw. Of course, that had been a long time ago. A lot of work, many failures, a number of heirs and heiresses and four thousand years later, Forsalis Inc. was born!

 Of course, every one of his progeny was given the same name, to ensure its place in the history books. This had led to some confusion as well as a number of false claims, but there had never been a reason to break the tradition, so the name had spread like Herpelsian Sea-hares. Which, coincidentally, had exactly the same population growth as the C314 family. Quite lucky, as sayings go.

 The current CEO of the company (who was, of course, Bartle Grenn C314) stared speculatively at the viewscreen from his massive luxury space liner. His noble brow furrowed as a sliver of doubt found itself in the unfamiliar surrounding of his cognitions. He turned to his personal assistant, and his deep, authoritative voice boomed out, 'I say, is that planet supposed to be exploding?'

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 Lets go back a few hours.

 Screams rent the air, or they would have, if the planetresort's auto noise-suppression systems weren't filtering all but the most appropriate sounds from the air. Forsalis IV was the action holiday planet (A free plasma rifle for every two tickets bought!), and although screaming was part of the fun, it had to be the right kind of screams.

 Impromptu shoot-outs broke out in every bar, except in the select few where guns were banned, and there people grumbled a bit before impromptu punch-outs began. Trains screamed from the rails as aeroplanes smashed into the landscape around them. An entire platoon of paramilitary troopers raided an old warehouse as a getaway car screamed around the the streets, tommy guns blazing.

 High above this street level child's play, assassins scaled the skyscrapers and political leaders played deadly games of cat and mouse. A native of Kranxelta ran from his shower with nothing but a towel, screaming in Kranxeltese for help, 'Oor ee ka, Oor ee ka!'. 

 The irony was lost on the Inviso-suited (tm) ninja who swiftly shot the Kranxeltian in the back with his ninja star gun before he was smashed out of the sky by the burning hulk of an errant helicopter.

 Nobody was unduly perturbed though, as the planet's auto recovery system would regenerate any who lost their lives on the ten-star, luxury resort's surface. It was a safety backup included in every holiday makers package. After all,  a company wouldn't last long if it lost its customers, not even the mighty Forsalis Inc. empire. Company employees, however, had to pay extra for the privilege of auto regeneration.

 The whole planet bustled with similar activities, because that was what you got when you paid for an action holiday on Forsalis IV. It was all finely calculated and tuned to give people a custom experience, one that they could walk away from. Walking away being the whole point really, as real life attempts at many of the stunts would certainly remove that faculty, usually horribly and gruesomely so. Of course, if you couldn't walk in the first place, you could slither, roll or bounce your way away. The more precise whole point being that your faculty for travel would be the same as when you arrived.

 Of course, not everyone wanted an action holiday, and for those of a taste refined in other directions, planets III, II and I of the Forsalis system were presented. Each as meticulously planned and vast as Forsalis IV, each costing the gross domestic product of a mid-sized planet per person sharing, except on special occasions, terms and conditions apply!

 A man skidded around a corner, bolts of plasma flying around him as he ran. He swiftly outpaced a Glotarkian Nushliir, its eye stalks goggling wildly as he flew past. The man glanced ahead of him, his steely blue eyes creased in joy as he slipped under the crossfire between two gang factions. He crouched down, his one hundred and seventy seven standard Earth centimetre frame condensing considerably as his body's advanced biological mechanisms kicked in. He jumped through a collapsing doorway and paused for a few moments.

 Astra Zartraxx grinned his trademark grin. He'd been on the run from the planetary security force for several days now. As an unlicensed and illegal visitor to the planetresort, he didn't have the luxury of autoregeneration if he died, but a man of his calibre didn't need it.

 He slid past the burning wreck of a hover-car, snatching a plasma rifle from some yuppie space kid as he did so. He skipped lightly around a corner before throwing the gun in the air, then tossing a pen at it, and simultaneously laying another pen on the floor, point down.

 The first pen hit the gun's trigger, permanently inconveniencing a Mark IX Mega-security droid that didn't have time to raise it's shield. The tank-like droid mowed through several security officers and exploded, wiping out three excited holiday-makers who were in the middle of saving a president. At the same time, the plasma gun he had thrown landed on the half buried pen, activating its auto fire function that pinned the remaining droids and guards for several seconds. 

 Plenty of time for Astra to blend into a crowd of Japanese Earthlings currently fighting a giant tentacled monster with several smaller monsters for arms. He effortlessly kept up with them as his synthosuit once again hid his bio-signatures and added him to the resorts roster. That would buy him some time before his next little misdemeanour.

 He blinked, calling up his personal attached intelligence. The intelligence had been taken hundreds of years ago from a prominent Earth-Cilitian hybrid scientist, and Astra had searched long and hard for quality and looks before syncing with the bio-mechanical mechanisms required to house the intelligence in his body.

 'Alright Sienna, what are we looking at?' he casually asked.

 'Hello Astra,' the soft voice purred as the glowing blue image of a beautiful woman materialised in front of him, 'enjoying yourself?' she said.

 'More than I'd ever thought possible,' he replied with a laugh, as he deflected several poisonous spines and ducked under a barbed tail.

 'You're currently facing a Kaiju, a strange creature from Earth-culture Japan,' Sienna said, in a bored tone, 'weak spots include the eyes and behind the ears for the main creature. You're on your own concerning the arm-creatures'

 Astra turned back to the misshapen beast before him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much fun. Not that he remembered much at all.

Author's Note:This is kind of a test to see who may be interested in me continuing the story:) do comment if you like it and want to see more, I'll judge it directly on some feedback. Votes are welcome too!