chapter=Chapter 8 Doctor Smutts had gone with the Royal Household to tend their wounds, Hitchmouth was combing the area for possible culprits of the shooting incident that had brought down the surface ship Blathania. Sanjit however, was the one with the really difficult job. He was in charge on maintaining the morale of one Commander Hunter, who, it has to be said, was looking a little stunned once Sanjit had discovered him hidden beneath meters and meters of two tone orange and pink tuile. He sat on the side of his sleep pod, resembling nothing more than a doll that had been delivered in a box seven sizes too small. "This is all most awkward Sanjit." Said the Commander as quietly as his oversized voice box would allow. "What did you do Commander?" Hissed Sanjit. By now he'd had time to work out the awful diplomatic consequences should such a wedding actually take place. "I didn't really do anything." Said the Commander wearily. "However, I know that members of the Royal House of Hhhhooouuouuuuuull are supposedly in the exalted position they enjoy because of their inherent powers of telepathy. It appears they have some odd brain nodules which, and this is strictly off the record you understand Sanjit, but apparently our scientists have been very interested in for some time. It is just possible Sanjit, that the young Princess could, as it were, read my thoughts. Not that it would have been necessary, because as you know I hate to withhold emotional data from anyone." "I am aware of your constant desire to share your emotions Commander" said Sanjit with a feeling of mild discomfort. "Let me tell you Sanjit, my thoughts on seeing her most Royal Highness Šness where not of either a pure or indeed a spiritual nature. They were of the utmost lustful and carnal variety. I wanted to possess her beautiful body and transform it into a malleable plaything for my own recreation, without any thought to the possible procreational outcome of such agricultural behaviour." "You wanted to do the humpy thing with her sir?" said Sanjit, feeling as though he should know that's what the Commander was describing but feeling, as always, a little thrown by his peculiar speech patterns. "Doing it with and doing it to, there's a huge gulf there Sanjit, and I fear I may have been desirest of the latter, and for that, I am ashamed. Deeply ashamed." The Commander held his enormous head in his enormous hands. "But the marriage thing sir. How on earth did that come about." "Well, from what I can gather...." The Commander fell unusually silent, staring into the middle distance. He wrung his huge hands together, making a lot of smoothy skin on skin sounds, which Sanjit found mildly distasteful. "Oh Sanjit, what have I done." He said finally. "I was trying to make the situation less confused. All the courtiers were milling about, some of them wailing, I wanted to calm things down and bring some order to the situation. So I simply apologised to the Princess for my thoughtless fantasies and explained that I wouldn't consider any form of carnal interaction between us outside the confines of a fully licensed marriage bed. I thought I was making it clear to her that I thought our genital union was an impossibility, me being so low born and she being of the upmost highness ness of a Royal lineage that goes back..." "Yes yes, so as soon as you said marriage she jumped at the chance." "Yes, she did rather." "And what did you say then?" "I thought it best to keep quiet, I could see by the reaction of the Royal household that a great deal of upset had been caused. They fled screaming, tearing their cloths and pulling off their rather peculiar wigs and stamping them into the dirt." "Oh, heaven help us. "Said Sanjit. "Even though we know there is no heaven, we haven't got a hope to be helped by anyone else." "Ey up." Said Hitchmouth happily, standing in the doorway to the bunker. "At last, something that flies and I don't have to shoot it down." "What is it now?" asked Sanjit wearily. "A friggin UP supply vessel. Big bastid, off worlder. Maybe we're out of here Sanj. This could be it matey!" As Sanjit emerged from the very messy UP post, the shadow of the enormous craft had already obscured a large area of the clearing around them. It stayed motionless above them for a short period, then slowly descended, it's massive landing pads each the size of the sunken metal box Sanjit had called home for many months. "Fantastic!" said Hitchmouth. "At last I can get out of this crappy valley." The ships motors died down and the cargo door opened. Sanjit was slightly nervous, he hadn't been in the company of any UP personnel other than Hitchmouth, Commander Hunter and the Doctor for many months, the thought of being confronted with a platoon of UP soldiers made him uncomfortable. All the protocol, the orders to follow, the pecking order, the arguments between commanding officers which had to be smoothed over. Sanjit could barely make himself look as the enormous cargo door made contact with the ground. But there, standing in the doorway, was one man. A scruffy looking individual in a tattered, unkempt pull on uniform. "Got some supplies for you mate." He shouted. "Where d'you want them?" "Good heavens." Said Sanjit. "Why do you arrive now, after we have been waiting for 8 months for the merest can of chick peas?" The scruffy man walked down the loading door carrying a large case of provisions. "O'Rourke, Flight Lieutenant. Mate's call me "Slipshod." Sorry mate, looks like a clerical error back at base, well, I'm being kind. It's Hunter, is he here?" "He's inside, cowering as usual." Said Hitchmouth. "What has this to do with Commander Hunter?" inquired Sanjit. "Oh, nothing much, only he was meant to re-supply you in the transport, which I can see he's already totalled, which doesn't surprise me." "That wasn't really his fault." "Sure, nothing ever is with him. I bought him here from Wisbeef, believe me, I know what you're up against. Anyhow, he was meant to bring a shit load of supplies but he just left with his own kit and nothing else. Total waste of a journey. Got any tea on?" "I'm sorry Flight Lieutenant O'Rourke.." "Call me Slipshod mate, everyone does." "Okay, erm, Slipshod." Sanjit was never comfortable with informal nick names. "We are not in a very strong position as regards tea, our pulse systems are down and we have already used our back-up in a self defence crisis." "Mate, I've got enough kit in this bus to supply a division, I'll soon have you up and running." "Got any white bread?" asked Hitchmouth. "Six thousand loaves." "Lard?" "Boxes of the stuff." "Friggin brilliant." Said Hitchmouth, a big grin on his big face. "We are going to have the mother of fry ups today. Isn't that right Sanj? "Oh dear." "Get your pans clean of curry and I'll start unloading."