Author's Notes: We had to write a story about Prince George and a true story. I think. Well, I can't really remember what the assignment was but I wrote this for it.

*ahem* This story belongs to moi. Yes? Yes.

Inconsequential Destruction

Prince George was quiet. The silence slunk in corridors, hid in garbage bins and loitered in the stairwells. A few even boycotted the pay phones; however, there were not many of these for there were very little working pay phones in Prince George. Of course, the largest silence hung just outside of the city. The silence of space. Yes, Prince George had always been the leading city in British Columbia and when Williams Lake did it, so did Prince George. Well, after Quesnel, Vancouver, Victoria, Mackenzie, Prince Rupert... and such. Therefore, Prince George uprooted its entire city and moved into outer space. At first, it was quite the debate over where the Gravity Generator would be installed. Considering it was required to keep Prince George and everything within it intact, so everyone could breathe oxygen and walk without the fear of floating away into space it required a safe area. Eventually, it was decided that the Grav-Generator would be placed on top of the Coast Inn of the North. So Prince George sat in space, kept together by the Coast Inn’s gravity. However, gravity can only do so much, and, without proper stabilization, the roads eventually crumbled out of the Grav-Generator’s reach. Fortunately, by that time, scientists had created a space car and so Prince George entered a new era filled with empty streets, floating robotic streetlights, crosswalks and lampposts as well as sporting a lovely ring of broken asphalt.

Two friends walked down 15th. One was tall and named Felicia. One was short and named Pamela. The two were hanging out on a Saturday, looking for something to do in a city that provided no entertainment for bored teenagers on the weekend. Felicia noticed they were nearing Parkwood and glanced up.

“Wanna see a movie?”

Pamela looked up at the Famous Players billboard. “Oooh, yeah. What’s playing?”

Felicia peered at the massive billboard as they approached the intersection. “Damn, they don’t have the movies on the board anymore.”

Pamela sighed and rolled her eyes. “I have no idea why they took those down. Well, I guess we have to go see.”

The two friends looked up and down the street. 15th, for some unfathomable reason, didn’t have a crosswalk except on Spruce and, farther down, Victoria.

“Geez, everyone speeds on that hill.”

Felicia groaned in agreement as another car hissed down the steep decline. There was a break in the traffic, the cars down by the Public Library just inching forward. “Okay... ready... GO!”

The girls activated their hover belts and raced across the open space, past blinking stars and far off planets. They reached the other sidewalk just as a car whooshed by. The girls deactivated their hover belts and landed heavily on the maintained concrete. Grinning, they walked into the Parkwood Strip Mall.

Parkwood sat on a massive chunk of ground, the only place you could do so much in Prince George and still be outside. There had been a brief scare when the Staples side almost broke off, taking half of the Pita Pit with it, but some extra grade sealant and turning up the power of the Grav-Generator quickly fixed that problem.

Felicia and Pamela walked past Red Robins, dutifully ignoring the delicious smells like two teenagers without money as they approached Famous Players.

“Lessee, there’s-“

SUDDENLY!

Two spaceships zoomed above. The first was obviously built for war, having many cannons and random, fierce looking protrusions. The pursuing ship was shaped like an egg and firing dazzling, turquoise colored concentrated light also known as lazers. One such light beam hit an obviously vital fuel cell and grey liquid sprayed about before it exploded quite spectacularly. The ship, suddenly lacking propulsion, angled sharply and landed on the roof of Moore’s. The building, for some unknown reason unprepared for giant spaceships landing on its roof, crumbled inwards. Massive chunks of shoddy architecture tumbled into the open street before they fell out of the Grav-Generators reach and floated lazily throughout space.

Felicia turned a massive blue eye to her best friend’s three. “You know what this means.”

Pamela flattened her antennae, “Of course.”

“Then shall we?” Felicia motioned grandly with a suckered foot.

Pamela bared ferocious teeth. “TO WAR!”

As if on cue or called by invisible radio signals a purple spaceship halted above Felicia and she was beamed aboard just as an egg shaped spaceship halted above Pamela and, she too, was beamed aboard.

******************************

Felicia entered the Commanding room, the doors whooshing shut behind her. Several heads turned at her entrance then returned to their respective tasks. The chair in the middle, quite the most imposing chair in the room, swivelled and Felicia bent her knees in a bow.

“Now, now, Felicia, you don’t need to bow to your layer.”

Felicia creaked out of the uncomfortable position and squinted an eye at her parent. “Yet you deserve it, O Great Commander.”

“Please... informal, I get enough of that Commander crap from the crew.”

Several of said crew burbled with suppressed laughter before a stern glance from their Commander quickly changed their puny minds.

“So, Felicia, dear daughter are you prepared to show those Mssir’s who is boss?”

Felicia dipped her ears in a salute. “Yes sir!”

******************************

Pamela nervously smoothed her antennae and ran a paw over her tentacles, trying to distribute the slime evenly. Taking a deep breath she steeled her self for the inevitable conflict and slithered forth. She reached the membranous doorway and the AI announced her arrival as the door remolded itself behind her. Pamela nervously glanced at the largest and most imposing chair in the Control Room.

“Hello, Pamela.”

“Oh... hi, Michael.”

There was a displeased hiss. “I am Captain here, Pamela.”

Pamela almost retorted she was Assistant Captain and so deserved her own chair and title but held her tongue, literally.

“So... Pamela. Are you ready to show these Flekodians who is boss?”

Pamela grinned, teeth shining in the low light. “Yes sir!”

******************************

The Tim Horton’s on Victoria was quiet as usual. The front counter night shift employee diligently swept the floor, pausing every now and then to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He gazed out the large windows at the horrendously bright CMO Computers light and wondered how the hell he had ever sunk this low. His contemplations of suicide were interrupted by a brilliant flash of blue light that lit the entire street. A bright red light retaliated and green afterimages burned into the employees retinas as the Joos from the fuel cache burst open. The Mssir eggship stuttered then dropped, clipping a parked vehicle. The Tim Horton’s employee watched in awe as the vehicle flew straight up before landing on the roof of the new building next door.

“What the fuck was that?! Are you breaking things?”

The employee sneered. He reached beneath his uniform and pulled out a Port-O-Lazer. He never liked his supervisor anyway.

******************************

The sky lit up like the fourth of July or Halloween with stupid teenagers. Mssir ships darted around the larger Flekodian vessels as bright bursts of red and blue flashed in the dark sky, sometimes coupled with fluorescent green or orange depending on the defeat. Several of the missiles and lazers hit fellow comrades yet the casualties seemed inconsequential when compared to the overall war; and so chaos took a giant mallet and whacked until it got tired and took a coffee break.

A Mssir ship fired off a Bio missile at a smaller Flekodian war ship. The intended target dodged at the last minute and the missile –lacking a brain or even AI- hit the next thing behind it, which happened to be a fellow Mssir vessel. There was a brief moment where the ship was coated in bright purple goop before the goop nearest the Joos heated and exploded, setting off a chain reaction. White hot shards of metal rained down below, killing several Flekodians and Mssir’s too poor to have spaceships and fighting on the ground... er, pieces of ground.

A Flekodian war ship entered the fray as reinforcements only to be shot down by a Flekodian metal-seeking missile. The flaming hunk of steel took out Pine Center’s Zellers before vanishing into the ever growing rubble ring around Prince George.

“You know,” a Flekodian General mused. “It was pretty stupid to use metal-seeking missiles against biological enemies.”

Several of his crew turned and nodded quite frantically before the entire ship was hit by one such missile and fell, burning and screaming into the void.

******************************

Felicia winced as her father screeched out commands. His voice was so piercing...

“Felicia! Stop daydreaming! There’s a war going on!”

Felicia flicked an ear. “Yes, father.”

He returned to giving orders and Felicia sighed. For some odd reason her father insisted on using metal-seeking missiles even though the Mssir’s used eighty percent biological ships and the missiles often ended up destroying more Flekodians than... well, anything else really. Felicia was certain it was because her father had designed said missiles but when confronted he vehemently denied the claim.

Felicia sighed as her father ordered more missiles deployed. She’d make a better Commander, for god’s sake!

******************************

Pamela anxiously watched her brother command the Mssir fleet. The blue blips on the screen were divided into small groups that darted in and out of the larger, individual red blips.

“Pamela! Pay attention, you might actually learn something!”

Pamela flattened her antennae. “Yes, bro- Captain.”

Her brother returned to giving orders and Pamela groaned. The only reason they were not being decimated was because the Flekodians kept using those stupid metal-seeking missiles. She’d make a better Captain, for god’s sake!

******************************

A small group of Mssir vessels darted around a Flekodian war vessel, firing bright blue lazers at the ships’ metal exterior. One of the many Flekodian cannons twisted on its ball joint and fired. The Mssir scattered but quickly regrouped and resumed their assault.

“Hello? Hello! I need fucking backup! HELLO?!”

“Um... sir?”

The Flekodian General whipped around and hissed. “What?”

“Y-you need to turn it on, sir.”

The General’s eye flicked downwards. “Ah, so I do.” He pushed the button. “Ahem. BACKUP NOW!”

The Mssir barrage paused as another Flekodian war vessel, this one much meaner looking, approached very, very veeeeeeeeery slowly. A colossal cannon flared to life and whirred on its joint. There was the unmistakable sound of powering up whereupon the Mssir vessels did nothing but stare stupidly into the cannons mouth right up until it fired-

A metal-seeking missile.

With an echoing bang the missile caved in a good portion of the Flekodian exoskeleton. Smoke billowed forth from the glowing hole, masking the Mssir ship’s escape.

“What the fuck did you do that for?!”

On the vid screen the reinforcement General scratched his ear. “Whaddya mean? We gots them off yers tail.”

“You blew a GIANT HOLE IN MY SHIP!”

“Uh.... oops?”

With a growl the Flekodian General slammed the transmission button and whipped around to glare at the Communicator. “So, what are the Commanders orders?”

The Communicator swallowed. “Uh... well, er..... their are... um, none....”

“...what?”

“Their... don’t seem to be any... at all.”

Teeeew! THUD!

The General holstered his Port-O-Lazer and glowered at his crew that were not smoking corpses on the floor.

“Anyone want to be the new Communicator?”

******************************

A Mssir Sergeant steered his small ship under the belly of a Flekodian ship and winced as a blue blip vanished from his radar. He flipped away from a lazer and rolled his eyes when the war vessel fired a metal-seeking missile that promptly turned around and dented the metal exterior quite badly.

“Damn, damn, damn. We’re getting annihilated out here.” He turned to his Radio-er. “ANY NEWS FROM THE CAPTAIN?”

The Radio-er continued on with mumbling numbers into the microphone and flicking switches. The Sergeant took that as a no and, after mumbling quips on Radio-er deafness, flipped on his headset.

“Okay, group. No word from mister Stick-in-butt which means we fly blind from now on... or until the Captain graciously anoints us with updates. So, the last one we received said that the Flinn Squadron was over by Pine Center. We’ll go up there and see if we can’t unload the burden on some of us.” After hearing various grunts of confirmation he turned it off and twisted the wheel. “There better be a fucking good explanation for that silence of yours, Captain.”

******************************

Utter, complete shock. Felicia stood, covered in black blood, and recharged the Port-O-Lazer.

“So,” she said. “Anyone else want to contest my position as new Commander?”

The crewmates glanced at the dismembered corpse of their previous Commander and the various smoking corpses of their comrades. As one, they shook their heads.

Felicia squinted her eye in happiness. “Good.” She kicked her fathers’ torso from the blood-soaked Commander’s chair and sat. “Communicator! Relay these orders!”

******************************

Pamela stopped, gasping for air, her arms aching from lifting the pipe. She set the dripping object on the floor and wiped orange blood from her face. Slowly, hesitantly a Radio-er creeped forward and poked the bleeding cadaver with a tentative tentacle. He grinned and straightened.

“All hail our new Captain!”

The crew cheered. Pamela blushed and accepted a cloth to wipe the blood off her skin. With a heavy sigh she settled into the Captain’s chair.

“Okay, first order-“

******************************

High above Central ships converged. The Mssir gathered in one giant formation, egg shaped bodies glittering in the first rays of dawn. The Flekodian fleet cast a black shadow on the buildings below, their massive metal exteriors shimmering from the heat of their thrusters. It looked epic to the Mssir and Flekodians gathered below their respective fleets, armed with pipes and toasters. It looked epic to the invisible chickens that wandered the sidewalks at night, unbeknownst to the population of Prince George.

Fuck.

It was epic.

******************************

After the epic battle, which is not written because it was too epic to write and transposing it into a computer would merely lessen its epicness, therefore imagine and move on. So after the battle Prince George lay in ruins. Pine center was a smoking husk, Sport Check a lone underground, rubble strewn piece. The Famous Players billboard stood proudly among the smoking ruin of Parkwood and surrounded by sparking neon signs. The only building still standing tall and proud was the Coast Inn of the North, saved because the Grav-Generator kept everything alive as long as it did not die from natural causes or another alien’s hands. Speaking of, numerous bodies were strewn across the battlefields, painting the fiery ruins in black and orange. Deep in the heart of the Public Library, underneath a towering pile of magically unharmed books a tiny hand thrust upwards, knocking a stack of Laurell K. Hamilton’s to the ground where they promptly burst into flames from pure crappiness and Mary Sueness. Pamela slowly crawled her way through the books, grateful she had crashed into the Library and not the nearby Police Station.

She gripped a Robert Jordan with a tentacle and pulled herself into the faint sunlight. Immediately doubling over from a coughing fit as fine particles of Laurell K. Hamilton entered her lungs. After expelling the dust she surveyed the scene before her. Satisfied, for some unknown reason, she slithered over a decapitated Flekodian corpse and crawled up the steep grassy... well, sort of burned, crinkly grass now but still grass in a dead sort of way, hill.

She sat there, waiting.

******************************

Far across town, Wal Mart smouldered in the sunlight. Half of Home Depot sat, quiet in the early morning light, the other half floated around Prince George, contemplating the idea of falling back into the Grav-Generator’s reach just to see what would happen. Slowly, Felicia walked into the sun, Home Depot’s walls glowing with literal inner fire around her. She strolled out of the half building and began to head into Downtown, her legs already burning from the abuse they were certain was ahead.

******************************

Pamela turned as a gasping, aching figure crested the hill beside her.

“What took you so long?”

“Home.... Depot... long... way....”

“Oh, well, sit down and catch your breath.”

Felicia sat, heaving, while Pamela turned to the sun glinting off a burned, metal husk of a Flekodian war ship. There were some groans from beneath the rubble around them as Mssir’s and Flekodians woke from their temporary concussions. Pamela sighed.

“Well, that did nothing for either of our races.”

Felicia shook her head. “Nope. What were we fighting about, anyway?”

“I have no idea.”

There was a silence.

“Well,” Pamela unfolded herself, brushing dead grass off her tentacles. “Same time next week?”

Felicia grinned, “you know it!”

They both turned and began the long, arduous walks home, the tiny crosswalk robots chirping their safe passage through empty streets.