In which the Heat are attacked by Rajon Rondo in space, the final frontier.
Stardate 7582.47. We Heatalians have traveled across this galaxy many times in search of the much-needed mineral championshipium. Dispatches from our imperial starship base indicate that the inhabitants of our home of Heatalia have grown listless and weary, often wandering from Imperial Business Ceremonies and Scheduled Meal Appointments with no explanation other than that they must beat flying transport traffic. Our once-great society is on the brink of intergalactic failure.
Our Star-Class Imperial Space Navy Superteam Destroyer is currently in the vicinity of the star system Rondo. It is powered by a green gaseous sun consisting primarily of the element ubuntunium. The inhabitans of the star system are known as the Rondolians. They are a fearsome, mute race characterized by their angular faces, sharp shoulders, and bold clothing. Their customs are not well known, but we are told that their diet is primarily igneous rock and live pond dragons.
Stardate 7582.49. We have not yet encountered any Rondolians. Staff morale is high. As Staff Sergeant Bosh recovers with help from our Robotic Medical Units in the sickbay, Chief Master Sergeants LeBron and Dwyane have begun to hold impromptu fashion contests among the troops. I profess that I do not much understand them and prefer to wear my captain's uniform. But the young men appear to enjoy bright colors and tight clothing popular among the Elite Master Class of Heatalia. I only hope that they have prepared themselves for any attacks from lurking Rondolians.
Stardate 7582.50. We have encountered the Rondolians. Their ships are relatively small, comprising five cylinders of equal shape, three stacked on top of two. In all, each ship is roughly as large as one of our Chalmers-Class Transports. I have counted approximately 500 Rondolian fighters in all, but they have proven especially difficult to estimate due to their tactics.
They have not attacked in the traditional sense. Instead, the ships dart around our Class-A Imperial Space Navy Superteam Destroyer in seemingly random patterns, with flight paths crisscrossing so recklessly that you would expect them to crash. But the ships do not collide. Indeed, they move in perpetual motion as if part of the JaValian Gyroscopic Nebula.
Given Heatalian rules of engagement, we cannot begin intergalactic space warfare until the Rondolians fire the first shoot. For Heatalian triple sunset cycles they have not shot, and so we wait.
Stardate 7582.51. The Rondolians have still not shot. We remain vigil.
Stardate 7582.56. The Rondolians continue to pass around our ship with no sign that they will shoot. As far as I can tell they have not eaten. Our communication systems are sometimes able to see into the cockpits, and each Rondolian will not change its expression from amused smirk.
Stardate 7582.58. Our soldiers are beginning to get restless. They do not understand why the Rondolians will not attack. There are mutterings that many of them wish to fire our lasers as warning shots, but I will not break 500 solar cycles of Heatalian Imperial Space Navy law. I fear mutiny but will snuff it out.
Stardate 7582.64. The Rondolians have still not shot. They have, however, begun to attack, though not with lasers. Their fighters engage in suicide missions, crash-landing into random sections of our Class-A Imperial Space Navy Superteam Destroyer. So far, we have seen casualties in the Pittman Cafeteria Module and the Juwan Imperial Space Navy History Pod. We regret those losses but will not terribly miss them.
The greater question is if Heatalian Imperial Space Navy law characterizes the Rondolians' actions as an attack. I have consulted the legal files and have found that they specify attack as an act of aggression with space lasers. The Rondolians have still not used lasers, and so we might not use more. Our finest Imperial Space Navy minds — Chief Master Sergeant LeBron, and Chief Master Sergeant Dwyane, and me — have attempted to formulate an effective legal means of deflecting the attacks.
Stardate 7582.68. We have reached a breakthrough. Chief Master Sergeants LeBron and Dwyane have decided to fight these random assaults with their own. Each piloting one of our Chalmers-Class Transports, they will dart in and out of the disorganized Rondolian fleet and attempt to force them to collide with each other. It's a dangerous mission, but no other Heatalians are as capable as LeBron and Dwyane. As ever, we will depend on them to see us through.
Prediction: Heat in 6.