To Nab a Nephew

To Nab a Nephew

aka: Mortimer's Trip

File:Morty Contemplates.jpg

~Prolouge~

An old man sat by a window overlooking Nexus City. It was a decent view, but the old man wasn't looking at the city. He was looking above it. At the Stars. 

Out there, somewhere, was a planet by the name of Militeregnum. A world of wizards, magic, kings and queens, and all things lordly and medieval and whatnot. Or at least, it had been, up until a few months ago, it seemed.

The old man glanced down at the datapad in his hand. Yes. Apparently, the diabolical madman behind the heinous Faction Wars, thedude, had escaped custody and landed on the planet, quickly taking it over with advanced technology, and his evil minions. Foremost among them, a bizarre creature called 'Barney'.

He scrolled through the rest of the Nexus Force report. The planet was now being blockaded by the Force, since they couldn't mount a full scale assault just yet on thedude. Apparently, it hadn't taken long for him to become entrenched, and surveillance suggested that the criminal mastermind was now on a quest to conquer the whole planet.

The man set the datapad down on the dresser with a sigh, and picked up a framed photo depicting his old geezer self in a white labcoat, and a young boy in a green polo.

"Don't worry, Perry, M'boy. Your Uncle is coming."

~Chapter 1~

Mortimer scratched off another number off the list and tapped the next one. The number beamed over from his tablet to his smartphone and began dialing as he shuffled through his sock drawer for actual socks.

Finding a few pairs amid the various knicknackeries, he folded them up tightly and set them inside his rolling suitcase. As he went back for boxers, the phone reached a voicemail.  

"Hello, you've reached Don," said a tired middle-aged male voice. "Leave a name, phone number, and if this is about a trip, your destination or destinations, and I'll get back to you when I can. Bye...."

Just as the phone gave the beep, Mortimer said, "Tesla, Hang up." The phone did. 

Tossing a healthy amount of underwear into the suitcase, he tapped the next number, and dove into his closet for some appropriate travelling clothes.

"Let's see. I'll need something comfortable. However, once I arrive, I may need to be presentable to a certain degree. Especially if I want the help of the local authorities in finding Perry on a planet with no working scientific advancement. The poor souls."  Mortimer paused. "How does that even work?"

Before he could lose himself thinking about that, his phone stopped ringing. 

"He-hello?"

Mortimer jumped, banging his head on the bar on which his clothing hung.

"Fiddlesticks!"

"Hello?"

"Hi! Hullo! Yes! My name is Nathaniel D. Mortimer, and I would like a ride. Ow, that really smarts." Mortimer rubbed his head as he shuffled over to the phone on his bed and picked it up.

The voice on the other end, an female voice, sounded somewhat groggy. "Oh." She muttered something incomprehensible. "Alright. When and where, Sir?"

"Well, you're not going to like either of those, so let me start off that I'm going to reimburse you very well. 10,000 U-coins.

There was silence on the other end. Mortimer kept his sighing internal and answered the first question.

"As soon as possible, I'd like to go to the Militiregnum System."

The line remained quiet, and then all sound was cut. He pulled the phone away from his ear. No, he had not been hung up on. Suddenly, the background static reappeared. "Please hold, sir." The line went quiet.

'I've been put on mute,' Mortimer realized.  He set the phone down and continued to pack his suitcase.  

A minute or two later, the phone crackled again. "Mr. Mortimer, sir?"

"Yes, I'm here!" Mortimer said, nearly finished with his suitcase, and packing a smaller duffle-bag with other items he thought he could use for his trip.

A deep breath. "I can take you to the Militiregnum system, but I won't be challenging any blockades. If we run into resistance, no amount of money will make me risk my life or yours, ok?"

"Smart girl!" Mortimer yelled before thinking. "Um. I mean, yes, that makes perfect sense, my dear."

"Good. Meet me in Nexus Tower, tomorrow morning, 0800 hours. Hanger level 93d. Ask for Fiona, that's me."

"Wonderful! Thank you, Fiona! I'll be there!"

"See you there, Sir." She hung up.

Grinning, Mortimer said, "48th time's the charm!"  

He checked his suitcase and duffle-bag. What else would he need? He'd already gotten the essentials: Clothes, hygiene, medications. Self defense.

"No. Wait. My taser might not work on the planet," Mortimer realized.  "What to do... What to do..."

'Well, ' he thought. 'I could still use it for there and back.' He packed his tablet and slipped his phone in his pocket. Considering the medieval setting, Mortimer wondered what sort of backup he could use... 

He decided to think about it, as he finished putting everything else in order. The newspaper was cancelled, his neighbor would house-visit for the mail and his cat Giblett, and the basement would be locked up and everything in there would be stable and not explode. 

Walking in on Peragrine's room to make sure everything was in order, he saw an old slingshot on his Nephew's dresser.

"Bingo!" Mortimer knew what barbaric form of self defense he would use.  A souped-up Slingshot. Already, his mind began drafting an invention that quickly became something between a crossbow and a slingshot. He rushed downstairs to see if he could gather the materials, since there wasn't enough time to make it before tomorrow.

~Chapter 2~

Mortimer arrived in Nexus Tower at 8:00 am. At 8:15, he arrived on the 93rd floor, breathless with his luggage. A rolling suitcase, a duffle-bag, a slim backpack, and a fanny pack. This was without mentioning his very long brown overcoat with innumerable pockets, stuffed with their own items.

Stopping a passing Janitor with a sweaty hand, he asked breathlessly, "I'm...Fiona Flights?"

The Janitor seemed offended to be stopped from his work, but pointed a finger into the hanger beyond and said "Bay 30 today. You're late."

"Tell me something I don't know!" Mortimer cried, his face smiling, but his eyes in panic, as he and his bundles took off.

The Janitor yelled back something, but all Mortimer heard was something about 'coming back ever again'.  He paid it no heed as he rushed past the huge bays with their big blue numbers painted over each one. The numbers started at one and alternated down the way.

Running down the hanger's length, Mortimer saw a small, younger-looking, red-haired girl dressed in a mechanic's coveralls. She was talking with a man who appeared to be about the same age, dressed in jeans and a button down shirt, with rolled up sleeves. He was a full head and shoulders taller. They were walking towards him, but did not immediately look up at him, as the woman seemed irritated, and was going off about something. The man simply nodded, and listened.

"Oh dear." Mortimer thought aloud.  Was this Fiona?

A moment later, the two noticed the hustling old man. "Oh no," Mortimer saw her mouth. She turned to the man, who seemed to agree with whatever she said. Coming into conversation range, Mortimer said, "Hullo! You wouldn't happen to be Miss Fiona, the woman I spoke to on the phone last night?" He stuck a free hand out.

The woman attempted to put her irritation behind a professional facade, as she shook his hand, but for Mortimer, it didn't work.

"Yes. And you must be none other than Mr. Mortimer."

"Guilty as charged!" he chuckled. He glanced nervously up at the man next to her. "Who might this stud be?" Up close he was even more intimidating, as Mortimer found that the man (unsurprisingly) dwarfed his own height, which he considered average. 

'Then again, age and my time bent over a tinkerer's desk hasn't helped that.' He reasoned.

The man was about to respond, but Fiona answered before he could.

"Oh, he's my boyfriend." She laid a hand on his arm. Mortimer assumed it was meant for his shoulder, but she wasn't tall enough.

"The name's Tuk," he said, swallowing Mortimer's hand in his own in a bone-crushing handshake.

"Pleased to make both your acquaintances!" Mortimer exclaimed. They both smiled kindly, as a awkward pause quickly began to take root. 

Mortimer wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. "Ahh. I'm terribly sorry I'm late," he said, bending over in exhaustion. "I hope you weren't giving up on me....? Sitting down precariously on his rolling suitcase, he turned on the 'harmless old man' charm, and glanced up at the two.

The two glanced at each other. Mortimer caught it all. The boyfriend's eyes gave her a strengthening, defiant look. The girls were undecided, then in askance. She visibly shrugged, to which he blinked, confused. 

"But, I thought you sai-" he began. 

"I changed my mind," she announced. Turning to Mortimer, she smiled. Genuinely, this time. "Sure, Mr. Mortimer. We'll take you." She turned around and waved a hand back as she walked to bay 30. "Come on."

Mortimer couldn't stop a crinkly smile from spreading across his face. That is, until he saw the big man next to him give him dagger eyes that turned into rolling ones before he jogged to catch up with his girlfriend.

Mortimer watched the big burly man run off after the lithe little lady. Then he looked down at his old frail self and all of his luggage.

Sighing, he muttered, "It's okay, Nathaniel. You're not paying for manners. Only to get there in one piece. After all, I'm sure things will only get rougher when I arrive!"

~Chapter 3~

More Coming SOONER-ISH™