Friday Flash: First Contact?!

Sonneteer's note: this is the twelfth installment of my sonnet-by-sonnet summary of a larger work, The Interstellar Feller, to be released sometime next year. To see the story so far, check out Part the Oneth here, Part the Twoth here, Part the Threeth here, part the Fourth here, Part the Fiveth here, Part the Sexieth here, Part the Seventhuth here, Part the Octthhhh here , Part the Ninth here, Part the Tenth here and Part the Eleventh here. I'm truly thrilled you're sticking with me through this silliness!

The fair Yectara's rarely one to curse,

Unless she's well and truly been inspired

To do so. Rarely has there been a worse

Occasion than presents itself as, tired

From crop circle exertions, ship and crew

Just moments after breaking orbit are

Within the hostile crosshairs of a blue

And yellow starship! It's beyond bizarre!

"To battle frakking stations!" comes her cry

But ev'ry cacogen's already at

Its post, still masked and cloaked, as they let fly

Their own sharp streams of expletives at that

Which menaces them. Comes another blast,

Then subspace radioed demands at last.