Christina Engela

The survivor spoke to us though, or tried to. Mumbling through that matted brown beard of his, pale as death itself. I can__ say now if it was weakness from his wounds or what it was _ but we struggled to understand him. In fact we got nothing intelligible from him at all then. He seemed afraid, like any dying man probably would be, but he did seem more terrified than any dying man I__e seen before _ and I__e seen a few in my time. Let me tell you, Corsair or not, he grabbed whatever hand would hold his, and clenched it so tight his knuckles turned white! He kept fading out as we carried him on the stretcher board the medics brought with them. Looking back, I think he tried to warn us, poor bastard. He tried to tell us to leave him behind and go, but we wouldn__ listen. We thought we were better than the Corsairs, remember? We thought we would be all moral and upright and try to help him. __on__ say I didn__ warn you._ were the last words he said before losing consciousness. At least, those that we could make out. At the end of it all, he was right _ as it turned out, we couldn__ even help ourselves.

A tractor beam from the Imperial ship locked onto the shuttle and in seconds it became apparent they were being hauled in. The tractor was inescapable, and they knew it. The shuttle__ small yet potent engines struggled vainly against the irresistible pull. Inside, the Hammer and his men prepared to meet their fate.

The small launch bay was littered with debris. A powerful breeze tore at his black silk shirt as Kilroy made his way across it to the waiting shuttle, evoking a feeling like the fingers of fate were caressing his body. __he Hammer_ stepped over the body of one of his fallen crew without a trace of care or concern. The air was rushing past him, like a wind, out into space through the wounds in the side of his ship. Fatigued and desperate, the Hammer was running out of options. His ship was a mess, holed in a dozen places, the life support systems failing. Weakened hull sections were collapsing in pressure bursts. The vibrations that shook the deck beneath him now were not from the engines that once drove her forward, but now from the explosions down below, tearing her apart.

Imagine, if you will:A bright yellow star lit the darkness somewhere in deep space, accompanied by its rather dysfunctional family of nine deceptively ordinary-looking planets. During its enormously long lifetime many beings had named it from the far ends of distant telescopes, including it into numerous star clusters and constellations as they were perceived from their vantage points. Once, or maybe twice, creatures simply looked up into their own skies to name it from their own now long dead and deserted worlds. In more recent times, beings from a world that orbited a different sun far away gave it a name too _ creatures that called themselves Human, who travelled here and settled on one of its inner planets. The planet they chose to make a new home on? They called that Deanna. They called the star Ramalama.

How can you put human rights to a popular vote and call it democracy? How many times do you need to redefine or haggle about the meaning of the word EQUALITY?

For starters, that__ a rather simple principle of Time Travel right there _ and according to the pioneers of time travel, it__ one of the foundation stones of the Theory behind it. It__ something of a paradox _ a mind-boggling annotation in the ever-puzzling and ever growing Anals of History. (Some readers may still be thinking that should be __nnals_ _ however, the author of this work cannot be blamed for what you may think.)

What would Jesus do? One thins is obvious, if there is one thing Jesus would NOT do - is to behave like his followers.

What would Jesus do? One thing is obvious, if there is one thing Jesus would NOT do - is to behave like his followers.

So rich a client having suffered such a messy death was an unsettling embarrassment to Captain Harald Biscay. It was bad for business. He had the murder hushed up immediately, his security staff investigating the matter covertly but thoroughly. Five and a half thousand souls onboard. Five and a half thousand suspects. Three days. So far, nothing. Now it would be taken further by the planetary authorities on the colony world below. A forensic team (cunningly disguised as a cleaning crew) was now rummaging through Smiffs apartment, examining every single particle. He had a feeling -- a strong feeling, about what they were going to find. Somehow, Biscay was of the opinion that this was going to be another contender for the Unsolved Murders show.

If men could become pregnant - or be legally raped, or understand the unsubtle differences between 'yes' and 'no', i am certain you would soon see them change their tune about abortion and the treatment and trivialization of the suffering of rape victims.

Meradinis! Turtle Island! It was a little corner of chaos!This was the scene the speeding black ship had left behind three days ago, fleeing in humiliating shame, those three days a constant running battle. For three days the accursed Imperial ship Indomitable had followed, firing on them at every opportunity. Death or imprisonment now awaited those who called themselves Corsairs _ and though this death was now more certain rather than just a possibility, Sona Kilroy, or __he Hammer_ as he was called by his men, was not prepared to give up his freedom so easily. Piracy was his life and he__ known no other. He was tough and cruel, a despicable man, a case in point when academics quoted the barbarism by which the Corsairs had made themselves known and feared across the star systems of the peaceful Terran Empire.

Knowing who you are is more valuable than having ten 'friends' who don't even know who they are, but who judge you anyway.

They make friends, they laugh, they shareThey stay in touch, they care.

Friends for life?Why? How long have I got?

The universe is so vast, so immense, we can never expect to explore it all. It is in effect, not so much a final frontier as an ultimate frontier; the ultimate frontier _ as wide as it is deep. Stars shine coldly in the unimaginable blackness. Out of the darkness, a tiny speck caught the distant light of stars _ a tiny gray speck that, as it moved, seemed to grow larger, catching the light just so until it revealed itself to be a ship.

Large Squares, 1965 -Last BeetleThe body is much the same as the previous model, aside from increase in window size all round. Door handles and lock mechanisms also changed as well as seat and dashboard designs. Chrome beading became thinner, mounting holes for these also smaller. Chrome was later replaced by black anodizing or plastic to try and modernize the Bug. Tail light clusters changed from the oval shape to the __eadstone_ and then the __lephant__ foot_ jumbo units the bug saw its last days with. In 1965 new larger windows all round. 1966 saw the last 6v bug, and also the first 1300cc motor. Those horrible little air vents behind the rear side windows came out in 1971 that caused lots of rusty bugs. Sloping headlights looked much nicer but went out in 1967.

There's no point in arguing with an idiot - save for exposing their stupidity in their own words.

Only the living can learn from their mistakes.