[Growltigga]

Growltigga the Great sat in his command chair gripping the arms tightly with his mightily muscled claws - a small itch started at the back of his neck but the great Kat was too tense to take the time to scratch it.

Growltigga the Great yelled orders to his flunkeys and gazed at the starfield shown on his viewscreen - the sight filled his warriors' heart with joy - who could not be inspired by the sight of the 1st Strike Fleet of the Growltigga Alliance arrayed in battle formation and streaking toward its foes?.

As Growltigga watched, he saw the spectral shimmering of force screens being activated and the chiarascuro of drive fields reaching combat readiness. The attack order was sent through the fleet and Growltigga gripped the arms of his seat even tighter, the nagging itch even more irritating.

He watched the Alliance fleet bear in for the kill, already missile launchers were spitting their lethal charges toward the ships of the enemy, small fighter craft were being launched from their catapults and were streaking toward the enemy vessels, already the glorious close assault cruisers of the Growltigga Alliance were closing to point blank range, their heavy shielding shrugging off all fire that the enemy scum could throw at them whilst their heavy beam weaponry sent shifting shafts of shimmering shining fire into the enemy vessels, ripping their hulls asunder and vapourising the ships.

As he watched, the fleet flagship, the GFN Dogbiter closed up to an enemy dreadnought and released boarding sleds - GA space marines used plasma torches to cut through the enemy ship's hull and soon, its stricken crewmen were being merrily disembowelled by the ferocious furry fighting felines of the 3rd Furball Assault Division - Growltigga the Great always wished the enemy would surrender before the marines got involved as shredding your enemies limb from limb and stuffing their heads up their backsides in true tigga tradition was not good for galactic realpolitik and machtpolitik- he would have problems facing the Tcha-chik ambassador after this performance without suffering the overriding urge to stuff the ambassador's head up his rectum - actually, thought Growltigga, that is probably no worse than what the Tcha-Chiks get up to anyhow

Growltiggfa turned back to the battle. It didnt Last long, it never did and the 1st Strike Fleet of the Growltigga Alliance reformed and jetted off to the next victory, nursing over a few dented hull plates and a couple of minor flesh wounds.

Growltigga stretched, scratched the itch and broke wind. "Damn", he thought, "Galaxy Quest is getting better every week"

[ 08 May 2002: Message edited by: Growltigga ]

[ 08 May 2002: Message edited by: Growltigga ]