SPACE: THE FINAL FRONTIER. THESE ARE THE VOYAGES OF THE WWF TITANPRIZE. IT'S MISSION: TO EXPLORE AND ENTERTAIN NEW SOCIETIES AND NEW CIVILIZATIONS.  TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO WRESTLER HAS GONE BEFORE!

TITANPRIZE CREW:

Captain Vince McMahon
First Officer, Commander Jericho (Unit Y2J)
Chief Engineer, Commander Stephanie McMahon
Chief of Chiefs, Commander Linda McMahon
Chief of Security, Commander Kane
Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Taker
Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Austin
Transporter Chief, Lieutenant Commander Debra
Communications Officer, Lieutenant Commander Rock
Counselor Al Snow (assisted by H.E.A.D.)

... And many more!

WWF TITANPRIZE – CAPTAIN’S READY ROOM

    "We’ll talk at home, Vince!" Captain McMahon mimicked his wife’s robotic voice as he flipped her fading holographic image the stone cold salute. Even from millions of light years away, the old hag could nag.

    As far as Vince was concerned, they had nothing to discuss. The castrating bitch better not have anything waiting for him besides a hero’s welcome, complete with red carpet. And then Linda could apologize for those two worthless children she’d spawned.

    "Captain’s Log, Stardate 022702.02. I’ve just sent a very warm gesture to my lovely wife, and speaking of which-" McMahon paused to smirk. "My tactical chief, the Rattlesnake, may have found his own personal venom - beer. I don’t cross that Texan lightly, but dammit, we can’t have our top war strategist falling down drunk when the photon torpedos start flying! He’s goin’ on synthehol injections whether or not-"

    The doors chimed softly.

    "What?" Vince barked.

    And so it began…..

WWF TITANPRIZE – HOLODECK 6

    Stephanie was indeed filthy and dirty.

    The so-called princess stood victorious over her fallen opponent, gold-coloured Wrestlefleet warm-ups splattered with mud and dirt. "Awww come on, Jeff, stop letting me kick your ass so easily. Can you get up?"

    "Gee, I don’t know," he said innocently. "No girl has asked me to before."

    Stephanie curled her toes up in the cool, squishy earth beneath her feet. "So this is where you and Matt taught each other to fight. I expected your backyard to have chickens or rusted out tractors on cinder blocks in it."

    "You know Matt." Jeff gritted his teeth as he pulled himself to his knees. "Happy as a pig wallowin’ in mud, y’all. Sir."

    Stephanie frowned. Perhaps it hadn’t been wise to request Skippy as her fighting teacher. Every time she got within an inch of him his hand instinctively reached for the cut at his side, and if she did touch him, he folded like a house of cards. "I’d like to be challenged this century."

    "Keep your zipper up for five minutes then."

    "Perhaps RVD could give me a fight." she suggested airily. "He is the whole damn showboater."

    "Show." Ensign Hardy corrected her with a grimace as he staggered to his feet. "I simply felt that by pathetically jobbing to a far weaker opponent, I could raise your self-esteem."

    "Save it for the lieutenant’s exam." Stephanie sighed. She wouldn’t go crawling back to Jericho, even though he was a flawless warrior. "I’m sure Kurt’s dying to teach me some Olympic intensity."

    "He’d love to be relieved of his fourth I." Jeff said brightly.

    "Huh?"

    "Innocence. And you could use his third eye for that."

    Stephanie’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she let it pass. "You could see Dr. Piro about the sliced nerve. He probably has a keen understanding of Taker’s handiwork. The student always emulates the master."

    Jeff’s face paled. He’d rather take his chances with a housecall from Kurt than risk either healer in Sickbay. Healer. A girl was kicking his ass despite his so-called size advantage.

    Steph watched the blood drain from behind his terror-stricken eyes. It will only hurt forever, princess…

    The red slash across Jeff's heart would be his eternal torment, too. Piro, not Taker, lived for eternal suffering, just like in her horrible dreams….why the hell would that stupid 'bot accuse the chief medical officer of assaulting ensigns so flippantly?

    Jericho’d lied about the Dark Doctor’s "sickness," the same way he prevaricated about everything else. He probably told his fibs cause he liked how evil and bitter they tasted on his phony tongue, the jerk. He lied about protecting her, about helping Shane, about being her friend, his kisses lied….

    "Remember when that ugly flouncy dress of yours got torn off in the Smackdown?" Jeff asked suddenly.

    "I bet you do."

    A little smile crossed his face. "Um, the way I acted….."

    "Like a frilly, pandering, sycophant who could sprout wings, fly away, and leave a sparkly trail of dust behind him? I should have knighted you the Lord of the Dance."

    Jeff flushed. "Ever since then, Chuckie and Billy keep hinting at me that they need a valet. What’s up with that?"

    "Maybe it’s the manner in which you articulated your thoughts like a Camelot reject." Stephanie told him. "Could it be, perchance?"

    "They used to stone whores in the middle ages. " he sniffed.

WWF TITANPRIZE – SICKBAY

    "There, there young man." Kurt said patiently, covering the tender bruise with a brightly-coloured, dinosaur print bandaid. "I just knew you’d take your shot like a brave boy."

    "I want my balloon!"

    Ensign Angle selected a cherry red balloon from the floating bouqet, which the patient snatched up greedily. "I wanna sucker too!"

    "That’s not fair to the other kids-"

    "Boo on other kids!" Ensign Christian kicked Kurt in the shins, grabbed a raspberry tootsie pop and sprinted for the door. "How many licks to the middle, bitch?"

    Angle frowned and rubbed his knee. There was an I he didn’t need - immaturity!

    "What?"

    The Olympian busied himself stashing away the candy and hiding the balloons until the next child came for their immunization.

    "What!"

    Kurt looked up and found himself eye to eye with Stone Cold Steve Austin. There was an intensity to the Rattlesnake’s stare that unnerved him. "Er-huh?"

    "What?"

    "I don’t know….what?"

    Austin grinned suddenly and hopped up on the bio-bed. "Ol’ Stone Cold’s got a confession to make! An admission! What? A secret! What? A sob story! What? I got a problem! What?"

    "I think I can make an initial diagnosis." Kurt said warily. "Want that I should cut out your tongue?"

    "My tongue? What?" Steve cackled. "Get me a beer? What? I said get me a beer."

    Little beads of sweat shined on Kurt’s forehead. "You’re here for a synthehol shot cause you’re a lush, Lt. Commander. I refuse to get you some beer."

    "You refuse? What?" The Rattlesnake jumped up and started pacing. "You denied me. You refused me. You rejected my request. You said no. You-"

    "Stop that." Angle whispered, starting to tremble.

    "What?" Stone Cold arched an eyebrow. "Let me explain a few things, son. Let me expound on something. Allow me to elaborate. I AM an addict. I’m addicted to kicking ass! What? I’m addicted to taking names after! What? I’m addicted to cans of ice cold whoop-ass! What? I’m addicted to stomping mudholes! What! What! What!"

    "Where are his gold medals." Kurt murmured over and over again as he closed his eyes. "Where are his gold medals? Where are his gold medals…"

    Austin took a hold of Angle’s prized medals and hauled him so close the medical ensign could smell the reek of Steveweisers. "What? I’m a sick son of a bitch alright, but you ain’t sticking no needles full of warmed over piss in the Rattlesnake’s blood WHAT!"

    Several hours later, Stephanie McMahon found Kurt Angle huddled in a shadowy corner, hugging his knees to his broad chest, shaking and staring into outer space. His mumbling was almost incoherent except for…..

    "What?"

WWF TITANPRIZE – THE SMACKDOWN

    "What?"

    Stephanie swallowed hard, and almost choked on her pride. Austin sat alone in the bar, surrounded by twelve of his best friends, each of whom had its silvery pop top ripped off.

    "Ensign Lita said I should talk to you, Lt. Commander," she said. "She told me you were the most hardcore, experienced hand to hand combat master in the federation. I understand you’re sadistic, sneaky, and brutal, but I’d like you to teach me self-defense."

    "WHAT?" Stone Cold roared with laughter. "Austin 3:16 says…What?"

    "You heard me!" Stephanie snapped. "Cut that out."

    "Oh hell woman, sit down and drink a beer with ol’ Stone Cold." He gestured to the chair across from him. "Go on! What the hell you waiting for?"

    She wrinkled up her perfect little nose. "Beer is yucky."

    "Okay…what?" The Rattlesnake calmly got to his feet and went nose to nose with the McMahon princess. "WHAT? WHAT? WHAT the hell did you just say? Beer is yucky? WHAT?"

    Stephanie cowered, wilting under his menacing glare. "I-"

    "Shut up!" Austin took one of her silky dark curls and flung it back in her face. "Daddy’s little girl wants to learn how to fight? What? Just pay your way out of trouble! What? You’re pathetic! What? You’re weak! What? You’re yella’! What? Go play with your damn dollies! WHAT!"

    Everyone in the Smackdown was staring at her, dumbfounded.

    "Stone Cold Steve Austin is the LAST son of a bitch you wanna fight! Oh, and WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT-"

    Stephanie pressed her hands over her ears and began screaming as she fled from the bar. The commander exploded through the swinging double doors and nearly trampled Matt and Jeff in her panic. She froze, face white as melted snow, baby blues wide and mad.

    "Steph?" Matt said worriedly. "What-"

    "Oh god!" she rasped. "You’re one of them! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

    And with that, Commander McMahon dashed away, swallowed up by the dark corridors….

WWF TITANPRIZE – SHUTTLEBAY 8

    "Fingers. Not thumbs."

    "Dude, when people say I’m all thumbs, it makes me proud." Rob Van Dam retorted, but he obediently touched his index finger to the warp speed indicator on the Shuttlecraft Last Ride’s master console. "This is crap. I was an ExtremeShip lieutenant with a gold wing pinned to my collar. Now I need some degenerate showin’ me stuff I can do in my sleep? Screw that."

    "I’m no longer a degenerate." Hunter said icily. At least, not so anyone would notice….."Regal knows I’m the best damn pilot in the Universe, and he wants me to get you little jerk-offs prepped for the flight sim on Monday. Deal with it."

    "Why aren’t you going for the star? Some little clause in your divorce settlement?"

    The Game’s face burned as he slammed the shuttle door shut behind him. "Zip it, Van Dam. Zip it before I take that dagger of yours and cut you a second smile."

    "Hands off the talent, Helmsley."

    Hunter stiffened at the sound of that glass-breaking shriek. God, she was always waiting around, waiting to castrate him again and again at every turn, always defending those Aerialian freaks….

    "Rob, I need an extra hand in Engineering." Stephanie said, keeping her glare fixed on the ex. "I’ve given Ensign Hardy some sick leave, and I need someone to cover for him."

    "You should cover that one with a big old paper bag." RVD muttered. Her flashing eyes met his. "I mean, aye sir."

    "Something you gave him, Stephanie?" Hunter leered.

    "Yeah, yeah Helmsley, I suppose it was easier to believe I was under ensigns, wasn’t it?" Steph asked sweetly. "Easier than acknowledging your, um, tiny problem."

    "What?"

    She shuddered. "The reason our bed was so cold, darling…..you never made any, well, sizeable contributions."

    The Game smirked, despite himself. This one always had more guts than brains. "A starship seems small when it flies into a black hole."

    "I don’t follow." Stephanie said blankly.

    Hunter snorted. "I’m all for exploring the great wide open, but damn, I don’t think search and rescue could’ve found me-"

    Stephanie’s blood was on fire suddenly, her brain fevered with rage. She felt detached from the hand that cracked across his face, splitting his lip and spilling bright red blood down his chin. "I came here to ask you to teach me how to fight. I was willing to lift the restriction on getting a promotion. God knows you like to beg for scraps from the McMahon family like a dog!"

    Hunter stood very still, trying to ignore the roaring between his ears and the crimson haze before his eyes. I do not need McMahon charity. I refuse to owe the million dollar princess anything….

    "Do you know how I learned to fight, Steph?" he asked softly.

    "You don’t fight." she seethed. "You cheat, you lie, you steal, you use, you-"

    "Got my ass beaten over and over again til I learned how to shut my ignorant mouth and take the respect I deserved." Hunter growled. His hand closed around her throat and slammed her up against the cold titanium of the shuttlecraft. The Game felt a rush as her neck snapped back, the metal refusing to yield.

    Only bent, never break them right away. The Cerebral Assassin had longed for this day, he could taste the fear hot and wet on the tip of his tongue, smell it in her sweat. All alone….and dead girls tell no tales….

    "You wanna walk out of here?" Helmsley let her body slide to the floor. He reached behind a stack of of supply crates until he felt that bite of black metal. The hammer…"Hope that mechanical bastard taught you to run, baby."

    Stephanie was half-conscious, twitching from the pressure applied to her now black and blue throat, just like a fish flopping around on the ground, struggling for air. Pathetic….

    "Fight or die, sweetie." Hunter sneered, nudging her ribs with his boot, pressing the hard leather against her heart. He trembled slightly, excited by feeling it’s erratic pulsing. "Didn’t that asshole father of yours ever tell you….always be careful what you wish for?"

WWF TITANPRIZE – THE SMACKDOWN

    Face your fears, Ensign, don’t let a single word have that much power over your life….

    Al Snow was undoubtedly a doctor with much integrity, but his intelligence was sorely lacking. A single word? The big W was a demonic incantation, summoned from the bowels of catchphrase hell.

    But tonight was open mic night at the Smackdown, and Booker T was delighting the masses with his patented dance move, the Spinerooni. Kurt could dig it, sucka.

    He found a small table in a pleasantly lit corner and ordered himself some cookies and milk. He chuckled heartily as Lance Storm launched into his "But Seriously" routine. Funny guy, that Lance. Too bad Taker couldn’t deliver a similar sense of humor and stop planting his boot in his Olympic ass….

    The sweetness of the evening quickly curdled into sourness. Angle longed to flee, but one never fled within sight of witnesses. Stone Cold Steve Austin staggered onto the stage, beer leaking from an aluminum can as he throttled the mic.

    "Let me tell you a little story about a man named Jed-"

    I do not provoke. I am in control. Catchphrases are a crutch for lesser men. You’re better than him-

    "What?"

    "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO MORE!" Kurt would not remember lunging at the stage, spearing the Rattlesnake to the ground, pummeling him crazily with his fists. "How’s that for a story, bitch? There’s no happy endings here, damn yooooooooou!"

    The crowds gasped as Angle rolled Austin over on his back, cinching his ankle in a death grip, twisting it and torquing it until the muscles tore. "What Austin? What? You tapping Austin? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? You son of a bitch! What? WHHHHHHAAAATTTTTTTT? Beg for mercy! WHAT?"

    "Stand back! Let me through!" Al Snow cried, whipping out his tranquilizer dart gun. "He’s gone Olympic! Please people, nothing to see here!"

    It was too late. Security Chief Kane was already peeling Kurt off Stone Cold, but the American’s fury burned hotter than the flames within the masked man. "DO NOT TOUCH ME!" The Big Red Machine found himself suplexed and splintering the stage.

    "It’s over, Kurt, it’s over!" Snow laid a gentle hand on his shoulder as he slid the needle in….

WWF TITANPRIZE – SHUTTLEBAY 8

    "You are an undisputedly stupid stupid man, Trip!" The ‘droid’s phaser moved in a lethal arc, catching The Game up under his rib cage, catapulting him into one of the unforgiving bay doors. "I thought you always saw it coming?"

    Hunter groaned, but moved heavily to his feet. No tin man was going to mock him. Jericho leaned over the bleeding broken Stephanie McMahon, touching her hair with a gentleness that belied his cruel strength or the bloodlust humming through his steely veins.

    The Cerebral Assassin darted quickly and pushed the ‘bot’s blonde head into his own knee, crunching the metal jaw with such force that blood spurted from Chris’s lips. "It’ll be just like Romeo and Juliet, prick, you can die together!"

    Jericho spat out the hot coppery liquid.

    Blood.

    REAL blood.

    The synthetic stuff was tasteless, like water…

    What the hell was happening to him?

    "Shakespeare?" Y2J raised a mocking eyebrow. "Hooked on phonics really came through for you, didn’t it, junior?"

    "I’ll write your confession out in her blood ." The Game said thoughtfully, the hammer now clutched tightly in his sweaty hand. The two men circled each other warily, bodies tensed like plasma coils. "You can perish a traitor and murderer, you freak."

    Jericho merely smiled. He didn’t need to talk trash. Actions spoke louder than words. Swift and smooth, he ducked Hunter’s clumsy, vicious hammer blow and locked his arms around his waist, german suplexing him to the blood and sweat slicked floor. He kept the hold on, driving him into the steel again and again without remorse.

    "I heard everything, dumbass. Everything." Chris grabbed that lank mane of dirty blonde hair and smashed Helmsley's head against the floor. "Sonic hearing, Trip. I could hear your putrid crud from light years away if I wanted…a beautiful thing, aren’t I? I’m sorry, what was that?"

    The Game moaned.

    "I’ll thank you to SHUT THE HELL UP!" Jericho rolled him onto his stomach, drilling a knee into his spine, inverting it to the point of paralysis. He could feel it ready to give….."Now who can’t run, huh Hunter? Who’s helpless? How’s it feel, you coward?"

    Chris eyed the writhing girl on the floor, almost through another’s eyes.

    God help me, I cannot control my rage…

    Drawn by it’s warmth, his metallic fingers found the flowing panel next to the launch door. He ignored the Game’s strangled sobs as it whooshed halfway open.

    "Tell me, Trip, can you fly?"

    "Oh god, I’ll die if you don’t-"

    "I heard Stephanie beg too, but still, you were going to crack her skull wide open." Jericho thrust Hunter’s bug eyes into the biting void of space. "You will be ripped apart or frozen to death in 29.5 seconds."

    "Please-"

    "Shut up." Y2J hissed in his ear. "Mortality is hardly a concern of mine, scumbag, so you’ll want to listen."

    The Game’s head bobbed frantically, lips a pasty blue.

    "If I ever hear you speak to Stephanie McMahon as if she’s a slut, skank or whore again, I will rip your chest wide open with my bare hands and feed you your shrivelled up little heart, are we clear?"

    "Oh yes-"

    "Lay a hand on her, Helmsley……." Jericho held the man’s body so it dangled over a billion miles of empty nothingness, a cold, endless fall that would dissolve him slowly molecule by molecule.

    Chris yanked him backwards suddenly. The rush of oxygen into his lungs made Hunter scream in agony, as the robot knew it would. He ignored the pitiful display and knelt over Stephanie.

    "Princess?"

    She was blissfully unconscious.

    Thank god for that…if Steph had heard me, she might actually think I gave a damn…

WWF TITANPRIZE – SICKBAY

    "Should have come to me sooner, Austin." Taker spat on the ground and stepped back from the bio-bed.

    "I feel like an old man." The Rattlesnake muttered, touching his ear absently. The hearing implant itched slightly.

    "You always was a stubborn son of a bitch." The Dead Man chuckled. "But that little what of yours was taking too damn many people down with it. It ain’t a toy, Steve."

    "You rat me out…" Austin’s voice trailed off ominously. "I am the last son of a bitch you want to cross!"

    Taker’s smile was chill. "Dead men tell no tales, Lt. Commander…."

    "You’re free to go." Piro laced his bony fingers behind his back, the urge to maim and disfigure something so beautiful and innocent almost too much for even an immortal to bear. There are so many others…but this one, this one would be the ultimate prize…

    Because the other fought so hard to protect her, the same way he fought for the blonde girl so long ago….

    Stephanie hesitated. She felt emboldened by the fact Stone Cold and Dr. Taker stood a scant few feet away. "Why did you cut Jeff?"

    "You should go, child." Vamp smiled softly. "You have no idea what you’re talking about."

    "I do. I should tell Dr. Taker what you did!"

    Hollow laughter. "Do you think the boy would be alive or sane if I’d touched him? I assume this is your concussion talking, and you’ll soon forget your silly little notions."

    Stephanie felt vaguely uneasy. It will only hurt forever, princess….

    The ghoul slid close to her, whispering with icy breath into her ear. "Do you have any idea how lucky the Hardy boy is to even breathe? You - you humans should not interfere in our business!"

    The girl only looked confused. The fool.

    "They will come back for him. And they will come back for you!"

    "Need some help with this patient?" Taker asked casually. Steph hadn’t seen him walk across the room.

    "I - I should go back to my room." Stephanie walked very quickly towards the door, feeling dizzy. She’d never felt anything like that, the undercurrents of a deep, slow-burning tension between the two doctors, making the air thick with electricity.

    She wanted to forget it, the same way she could not remember the incident in the shuttlebay, only the pain……

    "She blames me for the boy." Piro said simply. "I dislike being slandered."

    Taker’s eyes bored into him, seeing more. "You keep your damn mouth shut around the patients."

    The undead lips mocked him with a grin. "Silence is death, dear doctor."

    "What?" Austin yelled from the across from the room...