Can never do anything straightforward can we?

Who: Lester, Lester, SNIDE, Seymour, Brittany, Micky, Jayne, Winzton and a contingent of angry men with Bazookoids.
Were: The wreckage of the alternate Blue Dwarf
When: Just as the Sheriff's men turned up.
 
Seymour peered over at Lester who had apparently stopped waving. Good show, he thought, he'll do his scary ninja thing, snap all their necks and we'll be home in time for crumpets.
 
Lester, however, had other ideas. He touched his fingers to his temple implant, creating a connection to Winzton. Instantly he felt a wave of agonised lament wash over the connection, but the schizoid technician merely gritted his teeth and carried on working on the cache of weapons he'd found.
 
'Winzton?' He thought over the link, 'have you completed self-repair yet?'
 
'Nearly, sir. Now it only hurts over most of my pain receptors, as opposed to ALL of them.'
 
'Great, I need you to supress the enemy that is attacking us. Disarm and disable them. No fatalities.'
 
'No fatalities? That won't be easy.'
 
'No, but you'll enjoy it.'
 
'Every movement is searing trauma on my circuits, sir,' Winzton wailed, 'were you blindfolded when you linked my synaptic systems together?'
 
'I was under a lot of pressure. We don't have a lot of time. Just get to it.'
 
'The horror, every millisecond count against my internal clock is another knife in the spine.' Lester cut the link and reached for another laser gun.
 
Across the crater, the Sherriff's men wer considering their next move. They'd seen movement and reasoned that anyone poking around this ruined place would be looking for more magic weapons. Their sergeant-at-arms decided that if anyone was going to get loud tree-destroying weapons it was going to be them and had ordered a salvo fired in their direction. Now with the potential scavengers pinned down, he ordered two groups of men to circle around and catch them in a cross-fire.
 
That was when the metal demon rose up. It looked like it had been patched together out of bits and pieces of wreckage. That is because it was patched togeter out of bits and pieces of wreckage. It rose up behind him, lay a ragged, hard claw on his shoulder and tossed him in the air as if he were nothing more than a straw scarecrow. The weapon was taken from his fingers and he landed in a heap on the hard earth. The thing which, to the sergeant's mind seemed to be the very spirit of the howling metal devil thing that had smashed through castle Boobage was shrieking and moaning in a horrible manner.
 
One or two of the soldiers, having seen their fellow men being hurled through the air, simply dropped their weapons and fled. Others still managed to train their weapons on the shrieking steel shrike and fired. They missed. Winzton was simply too fast for them, metal limbs (he now had four) whirling around, he shifted sideways on his caterpillar treads and the bazookoid blast decapitated another soldier trying to creep up on him. The machine-thing leaned down and picked up the headless body. To the horror of the humans, it held it close to its microwave chest and heaved a racking sob of lament.
 
'You lucky, lucky bastard,' it wailed, waving its limbs despondently. 'You die so easily, you jammy, jammy goit.'
 
Micky, Jayne and the others took advantagwe of the distraction to cross the gap to Lester.
 
'Shooters! Excellent!' Micky reached down for a gun in the cache beside Lester, raised a pistol and fired at the panicked crowd of guards. The gun gave a disappointing click. 'Huh? What gives?' He squinted at the gun and noticed the missing powerpack and wires hanging out the side of the gun's grip. He turned to Lester for an explanation in time to see him rip the same wires out of another gun and throw them over his shoulder.
 
'Take more than a soldering iron to fix that,' Lester said triumphantly.
 
'You're nuts! What'd you do that for?'
 
'I must concur,' Wolfgang said sternly, 'you will face charges under Space Corps Directive 387.'
 
'Directive 387?' Lester tilted his head as his computer enhanced brain dragged up the relevant file for him. 'All  amateur production companies are banned from performing any version of Annie unless in deep vacuum. Spacesuits optional.'
 
'I'm referring to the right to bear arms!'
 
'Oh, 386,' Lester shrugged, 'well I didn't want to make things too easy, did I?'
 
'Seriously Lester,' Jayne stepped forward, 'why did you destroy the guns?'
 
'Because I'm trying to protect us. Do you know if you're related to any of those men, distantly? We can't make changes here. We've already screwed things royally by giving them the bazookoids. OK, we didn't do that directly but I'm willing to bet we had something to do with it.'
 
At that moment Winzton trundled up to them, dragging the last soldier by his booted foot. Behind him there was a trail of bazookoids snapepd in half. 'Enemy subdued, sir. I'm afraid there was one fatality.'
 
'So you're saying,' Seymour said with horror, 'that someone we know could well have ceased to exist?'
 
'Could even be you, Seymour. That Baron in the castle was a Niples. You're not feeling unreal are you?' Lester smiled, then looked around. 'Has anyone seen a Toaster in their travels?'
 
'More surreal, actually,' Seymour muttered.
 
'Warning, someone is approaching, sir,' Winzton exclaimed, before adding hopefully: 'perhaps they've come to kill us all?'
 
Over the ridge of the impact crater came a dark, cowled figure, moving at a steady pace he arrived in front of the group at his own pace, allowing them lots of time to examine him before he arrived.
 
'It's a monk,' Brittany said, puzzled.
 
'I am Father Custodias,' said a deep voice from within the dark hood, 'you have been expected. You must come with me and face the test.'
<Tag the rest of the gang. What happens now?>"
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