Jet couldn't help but laugh as he drove the frog away! He still waved his arms around a bit, playing the big, scary tar monster.
Then he slowly turned to The Operator, giving her his best smile.
As Jet realized his humor probably didn't impress his companion, he slowly took on a serious kenku-face again. "Plan." he repeated, nodding. "Plan. Plan. Plan."
He totally had one! And it was quite brilliant! Of course it was only because of the speech barrier he didn't share it with the operator, otherwise he totally would tell her his brilliant plan that would save both of the two!
He checked his pockets for his comlink but came up empty. He maybe could create a new one with some gum, his non-functioning blaster and a comlink, but right now he lacked the gum.
As he was about to scan his surrounding for anything of use, he saw the tall figure in a robe that approached him. This had to be another frog, after all Daxon hadn't had such a big and not-fake mustache.
That guy could totally help!
"Operator, I need an exit fast" Jet asked in the voice of someone trapped in a computer-simulation. "Spaceship!" he added in the voice of a danish plastic minifigure. "Spaceship, spaceship!"
Hopefully the frog could understand his request - and would be willing to help him out here. After all, this all was going according to his complex plan!
Then he slowly turned to The Operator, giving her his best smile.
As Jet realized his humor probably didn't impress his companion, he slowly took on a serious kenku-face again. "Plan." he repeated, nodding. "Plan. Plan. Plan."
He totally had one! And it was quite brilliant! Of course it was only because of the speech barrier he didn't share it with the operator, otherwise he totally would tell her his brilliant plan that would save both of the two!
He checked his pockets for his comlink but came up empty. He maybe could create a new one with some gum, his non-functioning blaster and a comlink, but right now he lacked the gum.
As he was about to scan his surrounding for anything of use, he saw the tall figure in a robe that approached him. This had to be another frog, after all Daxon hadn't had such a big and not-fake mustache.
That guy could totally help!
"Operator, I need an exit fast" Jet asked in the voice of someone trapped in a computer-simulation. "Spaceship!" he added in the voice of a danish plastic minifigure. "Spaceship, spaceship!"
Hopefully the frog could understand his request - and would be willing to help him out here. After all, this all was going according to his complex plan!
The cloaked man:
1. Is friendly and helps them.
2. Pulls a gun but doesn't say anything.
3. Silently motions for them to follow him.
4. Offers to help for a price.
5. Pulls a gun and stuns them. Everything goes black.
6. Gives them some useful information and tells them where they can go.
1. Is friendly and helps them.
2. Pulls a gun but doesn't say anything.
3. Silently motions for them to follow him.
4. Offers to help for a price.
5. Pulls a gun and stuns them. Everything goes black.
6. Gives them some useful information and tells them where they can go.
rolled 1d6 and got a natural 6.
Note: The cloaked man
Jet couldn't help but laugh as he drove the frog away! He still waved his arms around a bit, playing the big, scary tar monster.
Then he slowly turned to The Operator, giving her his best smile.
The Operator scowled with disapproval.
As Jet realized his humor probably didn't impress his companion, he slowly took on a serious kenku-face again. "Plan." he repeated, nodding. "Plan. Plan. Plan."
"Yes, love. Plan! We need one! Now then, do you have one," She demanded.
He totally had one! And it was quite brilliant! Of course it was only because of the speech barrier he didn't share it with the operator, otherwise he totally would tell her his brilliant plan that would save both of the two!
He checked his pockets for his comlink but came up empty. He maybe could create a new one with some gum, his non-functioning blaster and a comlink, but right now he lacked the gum.
The Operator began to lose hope as the ravenman was frantically rifling through his pockets and came up empty handed. This didn't bode well.
As he was about to scan his surrounding for anything of use, he saw the tall figure in a robe that approached him. This had to be another frog, after all Daxon hadn't had such a big and not-fake mustache.
That guy could totally help!
The Operator also took notice of the mysterious robed figure. "Who's that, love? Is he our contact," She asked turning back to the kenku hopefully. Maybe her fine feathered friend did have things under control after all.
"Operator, I need an exit fast" Jet asked in the voice of someone trapped in a computer-simulation. "Spaceship!" he added in the voice of a danish plastic minifigure. "Spaceship, spaceship!"
"Yes, love. We both to and I hope the chap that's headed this way can 'elp us," She affirmed remembering Jet's communication abilities were limited. Maybe he literally didn't have the words to convey what was going on.
Hopefully the frog could understand his request - and would be willing to help him out here. After all, this all was going according to his complex plan!
The figure got closer. Clearly, he was not another frog man. Daxon was tiny, about half the size of The Operator and Jet. This figure was taller than both them.
"Need some help," the cloaked one asked in a raspy voice.
The Operator had a bad feeling about this.
"Yes, love," she confirmed. "Me 'n me friend here are in a bit of a jam. Can you 'elp us?"
The cloaked figure nodded. "You must hurry. This area is heavily patrolled and if you came from where I think you did, you don't want them finding you." He pointed away from the lake.
"There is a substation that way," The figure informed the pair. "Don't let them see you! It's largely automated, but you maybe able to boost a transport or if you're even luckier, perhaps a ship to get off this rock. Good luck!"
Then he slowly turned to The Operator, giving her his best smile.
The Operator scowled with disapproval.
As Jet realized his humor probably didn't impress his companion, he slowly took on a serious kenku-face again. "Plan." he repeated, nodding. "Plan. Plan. Plan."
"Yes, love. Plan! We need one! Now then, do you have one," She demanded.
He totally had one! And it was quite brilliant! Of course it was only because of the speech barrier he didn't share it with the operator, otherwise he totally would tell her his brilliant plan that would save both of the two!
He checked his pockets for his comlink but came up empty. He maybe could create a new one with some gum, his non-functioning blaster and a comlink, but right now he lacked the gum.
The Operator began to lose hope as the ravenman was frantically rifling through his pockets and came up empty handed. This didn't bode well.
As he was about to scan his surrounding for anything of use, he saw the tall figure in a robe that approached him. This had to be another frog, after all Daxon hadn't had such a big and not-fake mustache.
That guy could totally help!
The Operator also took notice of the mysterious robed figure. "Who's that, love? Is he our contact," She asked turning back to the kenku hopefully. Maybe her fine feathered friend did have things under control after all.
"Operator, I need an exit fast" Jet asked in the voice of someone trapped in a computer-simulation. "Spaceship!" he added in the voice of a danish plastic minifigure. "Spaceship, spaceship!"
"Yes, love. We both to and I hope the chap that's headed this way can 'elp us," She affirmed remembering Jet's communication abilities were limited. Maybe he literally didn't have the words to convey what was going on.
Hopefully the frog could understand his request - and would be willing to help him out here. After all, this all was going according to his complex plan!
The figure got closer. Clearly, he was not another frog man. Daxon was tiny, about half the size of The Operator and Jet. This figure was taller than both them.
"Need some help," the cloaked one asked in a raspy voice.
The Operator had a bad feeling about this.
"Yes, love," she confirmed. "Me 'n me friend here are in a bit of a jam. Can you 'elp us?"
The cloaked figure nodded. "You must hurry. This area is heavily patrolled and if you came from where I think you did, you don't want them finding you." He pointed away from the lake.
"There is a substation that way," The figure informed the pair. "Don't let them see you! It's largely automated, but you maybe able to boost a transport or if you're even luckier, perhaps a ship to get off this rock. Good luck!"
Meanwhile, deep in the bad guys' lair... The Doctor, with Mr. Xazz in tow made their way back to the TARDIS. No one seemed to take notice of them as more re-enforcements made their way to help contain the chaos in the detention area. Along the way, the passed a small toaster on wheels with large, oversized eyes.
"Hey, R2-D2, yas goin' the wrong way," The Doctor called, not pausing to wait for Yoo-nit to reverse course. "We're makin' a break for it."
There was no one guarding the blue police box. The Doctor stopped outside of it. "Hey, wait a minute! What happened to the boid and the dame we's supposed to be rescuin'?"
"Hey, R2-D2, yas goin' the wrong way," The Doctor called, not pausing to wait for Yoo-nit to reverse course. "We're makin' a break for it."
There was no one guarding the blue police box. The Doctor stopped outside of it. "Hey, wait a minute! What happened to the boid and the dame we's supposed to be rescuin'?"
"Forget them! I'm rich and important! Get me out of here! I'll pay you whatever you want," Xizz demanded. When The Doctor hesitated, he added. "I'll throw in all the expensive booze you want and the finest cigars from Coruscant. I know people! Uh, besides, you can come back for them once I'm safe!"
Yoo-nit was busy in search of its mistress, or a terminal to plug into or any other clues it could find to give it a hint of where she might be. The little droid also assumed that the crow man would be with her.
Just then, The Doctor and the annoying suit in charge of the phone company came running down the corridor in the opposite direction in which Yoo-nit was traveling.
"Hey, R2-D2, yas goin' the wrong way," The Doctor called, not pausing to wait for Yoo-nit to reverse course. "We're makin' a break for it."
"Um...," The droid replied. It's lights flashed and it made a series of whirring noises. "We must save The Operator," it stated matter-of-factly in its staccato, monotone voice.
The Doctor and Xizz Xazz didn't stop, however. After belching out a voluminous cloud of smoke, the droid finished processing the new directive and concluded following the pair was the best course of action at the moment.
Once at the TARDIS, The Doctor paused. "Hey, wait a minute! What happened to the boid and the dame we's supposed to be rescuin'?"
"Forget them! I'm rich and important! Get me out of here! I'll pay you whatever you want," Xizz demanded. When The Doctor hesitated, he added. "I'll throw in all the expensive booze you want and the finest cigars from Coruscant. I know people! Uh, besides, you can come back for them once I'm safe!"
The Doctor paused to consider the offer. "Fair enough, we can come back for 'em. And away we go," he replied. He stepped into the TARDIS. Xizz ran in behind him, followed by Yoo-nit. A moment later, the blue box dematerialized.
Just then, The Doctor and the annoying suit in charge of the phone company came running down the corridor in the opposite direction in which Yoo-nit was traveling.
"Hey, R2-D2, yas goin' the wrong way," The Doctor called, not pausing to wait for Yoo-nit to reverse course. "We're makin' a break for it."
"Um...," The droid replied. It's lights flashed and it made a series of whirring noises. "We must save The Operator," it stated matter-of-factly in its staccato, monotone voice.
The Doctor and Xizz Xazz didn't stop, however. After belching out a voluminous cloud of smoke, the droid finished processing the new directive and concluded following the pair was the best course of action at the moment.
Once at the TARDIS, The Doctor paused. "Hey, wait a minute! What happened to the boid and the dame we's supposed to be rescuin'?"
"Forget them! I'm rich and important! Get me out of here! I'll pay you whatever you want," Xizz demanded. When The Doctor hesitated, he added. "I'll throw in all the expensive booze you want and the finest cigars from Coruscant. I know people! Uh, besides, you can come back for them once I'm safe!"
The Doctor paused to consider the offer. "Fair enough, we can come back for 'em. And away we go," he replied. He stepped into the TARDIS. Xizz ran in behind him, followed by Yoo-nit. A moment later, the blue box dematerialized.
Jet's beak was a rather rigid affair, but it was still very obvious when the Kenku was smiling: There was this happy sparkle in his eyes.
While The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy was a bestseller, there was a rather limited audience for The Spaceship's Guide to the Galaxy, despite it stating it's core philosophy also being stated on the cover in friendly letters: Don't get caught.
Jet knew this book rather well, especially since he was the author. Right now it was available as print on demand on some rather obscure space websites. It also very obviously was an abandoned first draft, with a lot of placeholders, 'see page XX.' entries, very rough sketches and 'Add sketch here' notes
Point being: The kenku literaly wrote the space book on hot-wiring spaceships, and he was rather good with other, less spaceworthy vehicles.
When someone told him to boost a transport, he heard those words in an angelic voice, accompanied by heavenly chores.
The old restlessness filled Jet again, and he was eager to beginn. One of his clawlike hands grabbed the Operator's and without thinking he started running.
"Thank you for your visit, your opinion is important to us!" he told the frog as he passed by, choosing a probably too generic automated voice-line from a space-supermarkets speaker. Luckily, he was up and away before he told the frog to fill out a survey!
While The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy was a bestseller, there was a rather limited audience for The Spaceship's Guide to the Galaxy, despite it stating it's core philosophy also being stated on the cover in friendly letters: Don't get caught.
Jet knew this book rather well, especially since he was the author. Right now it was available as print on demand on some rather obscure space websites. It also very obviously was an abandoned first draft, with a lot of placeholders, 'see page XX.' entries, very rough sketches and 'Add sketch here' notes
Point being: The kenku literaly wrote the space book on hot-wiring spaceships, and he was rather good with other, less spaceworthy vehicles.
When someone told him to boost a transport, he heard those words in an angelic voice, accompanied by heavenly chores.
The old restlessness filled Jet again, and he was eager to beginn. One of his clawlike hands grabbed the Operator's and without thinking he started running.
"Thank you for your visit, your opinion is important to us!" he told the frog as he passed by, choosing a probably too generic automated voice-line from a space-supermarkets speaker. Luckily, he was up and away before he told the frog to fill out a survey!
"Thanks, love," The Operator said with a wave as the cloaked figure continued on in a different direction. Jett seemed all to eager to head to the substation. The Operator had a sinking feeling that not only was this not part of the plan, but there was not a plan at all. Still, she had no choice but to go along with things for now. With any luck, one way or another they'd be off of this rock. Besides that, all The Operator wanted was to take a nice hot space shower, to feel clean again and have a fresh set of clothes on. Compared to her current predicament, it seemed flying around her space van servicing space payphones wasn't so bad after all.
As the pair headed in the indicated direction, they saw various ships and small drones flying overhead in the other direction. They were likely headed toward the place in which they had fleed, probably to offer backup to the chaotic situation in the prison area. There was always plenty of warning and The Operator and Jet could easily drop down to the ground. The sludge they were covered in made for the perfect cover. There were more than a few encounters of this nature over the next few hours.
Finally, as The Operator began to feel that she couldn't take another step, a small compound appeared off in the distance. It was a collection of buildings behind a fence or wall. Without space binoculars, there was no way to see any details. Unfortunately, there was no cover to help them sneak up. The barrier obscured most of the details but there was clearly a large gate for land vehicles to enter and exit the facility. All seemed quiet, at least at a distance.
"Well, love," The Operator announced turning to the kenku. "That must be it. I"m going to hope you can get us in there without getting us captured. Think you can do that without setting the place on fire or making a scene?"
As the pair headed in the indicated direction, they saw various ships and small drones flying overhead in the other direction. They were likely headed toward the place in which they had fleed, probably to offer backup to the chaotic situation in the prison area. There was always plenty of warning and The Operator and Jet could easily drop down to the ground. The sludge they were covered in made for the perfect cover. There were more than a few encounters of this nature over the next few hours.
Finally, as The Operator began to feel that she couldn't take another step, a small compound appeared off in the distance. It was a collection of buildings behind a fence or wall. Without space binoculars, there was no way to see any details. Unfortunately, there was no cover to help them sneak up. The barrier obscured most of the details but there was clearly a large gate for land vehicles to enter and exit the facility. All seemed quiet, at least at a distance.
"Well, love," The Operator announced turning to the kenku. "That must be it. I"m going to hope you can get us in there without getting us captured. Think you can do that without setting the place on fire or making a scene?"
So far, the plan worked out perfectly, and Jet stuck to it like a T.
The trick, he knew, was to have the right plan. A plan that was easy to adapt to any situation, delays and loss of at least half of the rescue party. Right now this plan was: "Improvise!". Only a true space Sun Tzu of his caliber could create such a flawless plan in just one word!
Happy with his skills and progress so far, he made his way across the plane side by side with the Operator. By taking a mud-dive and occasionally quoting Predator, he easily survived the thread of being spotted from above.
How he survived the much greater thread to his life and limbs posed by him asking the Operator for the current time and temperature way too often was, on the other hand, a space-miracle.
Jet's mind already started working on a plan as he spotted the compound. And even before the Operator finished her question, he already lifted a finger and opened his mouth.
It was like a space light-bulb had went off over his head.
But then she added that he wasn't allowed to use fire or make a scene, ruining his perfect plan.
Slowly, he lowered the finger again, as well as his beak.
Then, after a moment, the finger came up again, this time a bit slower.
Jet pointed to some vehicle-tracks. That seemed to be a way the space land-vehicles used often enough for it to be plainly visible.
So, here was his plan.
"She said the jungle just came alive and took him!" he explained, while pointing towards the mud. After twenty Predator-qutes or so, the Operator probably knew he meant 'we're going to hide in the mud there'.
With his fingers, he tripled like a humanoid walking, then jumping to the floor and laying low.
Then he made a "broom-broom"-car sound, as his other hand symbolized a vehicle, driving by. Small finger guy jumped out of the mud and on the back of the said vehicle.
Jet even provided a Super Mario-Jumping sound to illustrate the point.
So that was his plan: Hide in the puddle, get onto a vehicle as it drove past, get into the compound. Step two probably needed some (a lot!) more details, but well… Jet didn't provide, probably just due to the kenku's troubles in communication, not due to not having any, no sir!
Without waiting for the Operator's answer, Jet already ran for the mud-puddle and jumped in.
The trick, he knew, was to have the right plan. A plan that was easy to adapt to any situation, delays and loss of at least half of the rescue party. Right now this plan was: "Improvise!". Only a true space Sun Tzu of his caliber could create such a flawless plan in just one word!
Happy with his skills and progress so far, he made his way across the plane side by side with the Operator. By taking a mud-dive and occasionally quoting Predator, he easily survived the thread of being spotted from above.
How he survived the much greater thread to his life and limbs posed by him asking the Operator for the current time and temperature way too often was, on the other hand, a space-miracle.
Jet's mind already started working on a plan as he spotted the compound. And even before the Operator finished her question, he already lifted a finger and opened his mouth.
It was like a space light-bulb had went off over his head.
But then she added that he wasn't allowed to use fire or make a scene, ruining his perfect plan.
Slowly, he lowered the finger again, as well as his beak.
Then, after a moment, the finger came up again, this time a bit slower.
Jet pointed to some vehicle-tracks. That seemed to be a way the space land-vehicles used often enough for it to be plainly visible.
So, here was his plan.
"She said the jungle just came alive and took him!" he explained, while pointing towards the mud. After twenty Predator-qutes or so, the Operator probably knew he meant 'we're going to hide in the mud there'.
With his fingers, he tripled like a humanoid walking, then jumping to the floor and laying low.
Then he made a "broom-broom"-car sound, as his other hand symbolized a vehicle, driving by. Small finger guy jumped out of the mud and on the back of the said vehicle.
Jet even provided a Super Mario-Jumping sound to illustrate the point.
So that was his plan: Hide in the puddle, get onto a vehicle as it drove past, get into the compound. Step two probably needed some (a lot!) more details, but well… Jet didn't provide, probably just due to the kenku's troubles in communication, not due to not having any, no sir!
Without waiting for the Operator's answer, Jet already ran for the mud-puddle and jumped in.
rolled 1d6 and got a natural 1.
Note: Higher = better for the plan
"Well, love," The Operator announced turning to the kenku. "That must be it. I"m going to hope you can get us in there without getting us captured. Think you can do that without setting the place on fire or making a scene?"
Jet was about to enthusiastically respond and started to speak, but slowly lowered his finger and closed her beak. The Operator let out an annoyed sigh. Clearly, the thing she didn't want him to do was the plan. This just made it all the more clearer. THERE WAS NO PLAN! Of course, there was nothing much The Operator could do about it. This was arguably better than being trapped in a small cell. No, this was a very definitely a slight improvement since she'd been trapped with the CEO of the space telephone company. Had she not been imprisoned with Xizz, she might have preferred imprisonment over being covered in muck and hopelessly lost.
Then, after a moment, the finger came up again, this time a bit slower.
Jet pointed to some vehicle-tracks. That seemed to be a way the space land-vehicles used often enough for it to be plainly visible.
So, here was his plan.
"She said the jungle just came alive and took him!" he explained, while pointing towards the mud. After twenty Predator-qutes or so, the Operator probably knew he meant 'we're going to hide in the mud there'.
With his fingers, he tripled like a humanoid walking, then jumping to the floor and laying low.
Then he made a "broom-broom"-car sound, as his other hand symbolized a vehicle, driving by. Small finger guy jumped out of the mud and on the back of the said vehicle.
Jet even provided a Super Mario-Jumping sound to illustrate the point.
The Operator stared at the kenku for a long moment as if he'd grown a second head. She mostly processed what she thought his intentions were.
Before she could relay her interpretation back to him, Jet ran for a mud puddle and dove in. The Operator sighed. She didn't have any other ideas. The pair waited, lying in the mud for hours watching for a transport or really anything to happen by that they could commandeer.
Just as The Operator was about to give up and take her chances, the pair heard some buzzing. Some machinery on treads was slowly making its way toward them. It was impossible to tell what the nature of the equipment was, but one of the machines was indeed headed their very direction.
As it got closer, there were big whirrly blades on the front of it. The Operator quickly realized if they didn't get out of the way that the blades would chop the pair to bits. It was also at this moment that Jet's plan was about to go horribly, terribly wrong. "I'm stuck love," The Operator said panicked as she tried to get up and get out of the mud. She had sunk to her knees and was held fast.
As the robotic mower got closer, it was obvious there was no cab or place for any sort of human (or alien) driver to sit. In fact, there was nothing at all for any known organic being to use as a seat, saddle, hand hold, hangy on thingy or anything else. The equipment was fully autonomous and there were no obvious steps or ladders or ways to get on top of it or grab hold. At least, not easily. Of course, there was no need to worry about that particular issue as it would be a moot point if Jet couldn't get The Operator unstuck from the mud as the mower crept ever closer.
Jet was about to enthusiastically respond and started to speak, but slowly lowered his finger and closed her beak. The Operator let out an annoyed sigh. Clearly, the thing she didn't want him to do was the plan. This just made it all the more clearer. THERE WAS NO PLAN! Of course, there was nothing much The Operator could do about it. This was arguably better than being trapped in a small cell. No, this was a very definitely a slight improvement since she'd been trapped with the CEO of the space telephone company. Had she not been imprisoned with Xizz, she might have preferred imprisonment over being covered in muck and hopelessly lost.
Then, after a moment, the finger came up again, this time a bit slower.
Jet pointed to some vehicle-tracks. That seemed to be a way the space land-vehicles used often enough for it to be plainly visible.
So, here was his plan.
"She said the jungle just came alive and took him!" he explained, while pointing towards the mud. After twenty Predator-qutes or so, the Operator probably knew he meant 'we're going to hide in the mud there'.
With his fingers, he tripled like a humanoid walking, then jumping to the floor and laying low.
Then he made a "broom-broom"-car sound, as his other hand symbolized a vehicle, driving by. Small finger guy jumped out of the mud and on the back of the said vehicle.
Jet even provided a Super Mario-Jumping sound to illustrate the point.
The Operator stared at the kenku for a long moment as if he'd grown a second head. She mostly processed what she thought his intentions were.
Before she could relay her interpretation back to him, Jet ran for a mud puddle and dove in. The Operator sighed. She didn't have any other ideas. The pair waited, lying in the mud for hours watching for a transport or really anything to happen by that they could commandeer.
Just as The Operator was about to give up and take her chances, the pair heard some buzzing. Some machinery on treads was slowly making its way toward them. It was impossible to tell what the nature of the equipment was, but one of the machines was indeed headed their very direction.
As it got closer, there were big whirrly blades on the front of it. The Operator quickly realized if they didn't get out of the way that the blades would chop the pair to bits. It was also at this moment that Jet's plan was about to go horribly, terribly wrong. "I'm stuck love," The Operator said panicked as she tried to get up and get out of the mud. She had sunk to her knees and was held fast.
As the robotic mower got closer, it was obvious there was no cab or place for any sort of human (or alien) driver to sit. In fact, there was nothing at all for any known organic being to use as a seat, saddle, hand hold, hangy on thingy or anything else. The equipment was fully autonomous and there were no obvious steps or ladders or ways to get on top of it or grab hold. At least, not easily. Of course, there was no need to worry about that particular issue as it would be a moot point if Jet couldn't get The Operator unstuck from the mud as the mower crept ever closer.
What where the rules for a successful rescue-mission? Would it still count if Jet brought home about 51% of the Operator? Although, he'd need a space bucket to keep it together after the mower was done with her.
So the kenku decided to keep her in once piece.
Him being a feather-weight, he had a much easier time traversing the mud. In a few steps, he was next to the Operator and started pulling and pulling, but this time his weight worked against him: He had a hard time getting his favorite announcer out.
The reflection of the mower in the wide bird-eyes grew bigger and bigger.
Finally, with one big pull, Jet just stumbled backwards and landed in the mud. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and shock himself, like a dog after a bath.
The mud still stuck to his feathers and poncho, and the Operator was still stuck, and in very much danger of being operated on - by a lot of uncaring blades.
Jet quickly darted to the side of the mower. He wasn't a strong man, he should stick to his strengths.
Why he tried to solve this problem with smarts after having that thought is beyond this writer.
Jet studied the machinery of the mower, watched some of the exposed places where gears interlocked with other gears, watched the machine grinding away.
Then he pulled out his blaster.
It was such a nice blaster. It had everything, a hair trigger, capacitors that made just the right cracking noise when being charged, a lense that gave the laser a full, red color… Jet took a precious second for his eyes to dart from the Blaster to the Operator an back. Finally, he decided to save the later, as he might get lucky - someone might gift him a new blaster some day!
He gave the Blaster one last hug, and while giving a heartfelt rendition of "Time to say goodbye" he threw it at some of the exposed parts of the machinery, hoping to halt the Mower in it's tracks.
So the kenku decided to keep her in once piece.
Him being a feather-weight, he had a much easier time traversing the mud. In a few steps, he was next to the Operator and started pulling and pulling, but this time his weight worked against him: He had a hard time getting his favorite announcer out.
The reflection of the mower in the wide bird-eyes grew bigger and bigger.
Finally, with one big pull, Jet just stumbled backwards and landed in the mud. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and shock himself, like a dog after a bath.
The mud still stuck to his feathers and poncho, and the Operator was still stuck, and in very much danger of being operated on - by a lot of uncaring blades.
Jet quickly darted to the side of the mower. He wasn't a strong man, he should stick to his strengths.
Why he tried to solve this problem with smarts after having that thought is beyond this writer.
Jet studied the machinery of the mower, watched some of the exposed places where gears interlocked with other gears, watched the machine grinding away.
Then he pulled out his blaster.
It was such a nice blaster. It had everything, a hair trigger, capacitors that made just the right cracking noise when being charged, a lense that gave the laser a full, red color… Jet took a precious second for his eyes to dart from the Blaster to the Operator an back. Finally, he decided to save the later, as he might get lucky - someone might gift him a new blaster some day!
He gave the Blaster one last hug, and while giving a heartfelt rendition of "Time to say goodbye" he threw it at some of the exposed parts of the machinery, hoping to halt the Mower in it's tracks.
Our fine feathered friend and hero discovered that Operators make poor tug-o-war ropes. He pulled and pulled with the automated mower getting ever closer. Unfortunately, Jet only landed in the mud, covering himself in even more muck. To The Operator’s disgust, the kenku shook the new mud off like a space dog, splattering her in the process.
“I’ve got enough on me already, love,” The Operator retorted. She was about to give up hope and make peace with her impending demise. Not the way she’d planned to go out, but she supposed it could be worse. At least the CEO wasn’t here.
It appeared that the ravenman had given up himself as he dashed toward the machinery. Was he just going to sacrifice himself? “No, love save yourself, you don’t have to…,” The Operator pleaded above the gnashing and whirring blades.
Jet studied the machinery of the mower, watched some of the exposed places where gears interlocked with other gears, watched the machine grinding away.
Then he pulled out his blaster.
He glanced between it and the autonomous maintenance equipment. The blaster was too gummed up to fire and even if he did, the weapon was unlikely to put a scratch in the oversized-robot.
“You’re wasting your time, love, get out of the way,” The Operator pleaded. Jet gave his weapon a loving last hug and tossed it at some moving parts. The blaster landed in the machinery. It was a perfect shot! Jet got the blaster right between two large gears. Had it been a space carnival game, he would have won the prize. The big prize. The giant life side Floog. The purple one. The one that no one ever seemed to win.
However, the blaster was ground to bits and didn’t even slow the lumbering mower that was now right on top of The Operator. It’s jagged teeth were about to consume her when…
A red laser dot appeared on The Operator’s forehead. There was an alarm and the giant mower shut off. Somewhere on top, a yellow error light flashed. The Operator opened her eyes slowly. The blade was just an Imperial space centimeter from her face.
“That was close, love,” she announced. After a moment, she reached up and grabbed a part of the machine’s frame, staying clear of the blades and managed to pull herself from the muck.
The rest of the robomowers continued past doing their tasks completely unaware or unconcerned that their robotic counterpart had shut down.
“Come on, love,” The Operator encouraged. “We’ve got to find a way into that facility!”
Wherever the kenku was as The Operator spoke those words, he suddenly felt a sharp whack on his head and something landed nearby. It hit solid ground and didn’t land in the mud puddle. It was a new blaster! Not in the best shape, but a blaster nonetheless! And there was a note attached.
Should Jet examine the note, he realized it was written in a language he could understand. If he attempted to read it, assuming the ravenfolk was literate, it said “From Doubutt and Agent Milkshake”. Then, another curious thing happened. A small round blue sphere also landed on the ground near them.
If Jet looked up, he would notice a floating castle high up in the sky.
“I’ve got enough on me already, love,” The Operator retorted. She was about to give up hope and make peace with her impending demise. Not the way she’d planned to go out, but she supposed it could be worse. At least the CEO wasn’t here.
It appeared that the ravenman had given up himself as he dashed toward the machinery. Was he just going to sacrifice himself? “No, love save yourself, you don’t have to…,” The Operator pleaded above the gnashing and whirring blades.
Jet studied the machinery of the mower, watched some of the exposed places where gears interlocked with other gears, watched the machine grinding away.
Then he pulled out his blaster.
He glanced between it and the autonomous maintenance equipment. The blaster was too gummed up to fire and even if he did, the weapon was unlikely to put a scratch in the oversized-robot.
“You’re wasting your time, love, get out of the way,” The Operator pleaded. Jet gave his weapon a loving last hug and tossed it at some moving parts. The blaster landed in the machinery. It was a perfect shot! Jet got the blaster right between two large gears. Had it been a space carnival game, he would have won the prize. The big prize. The giant life side Floog. The purple one. The one that no one ever seemed to win.
However, the blaster was ground to bits and didn’t even slow the lumbering mower that was now right on top of The Operator. It’s jagged teeth were about to consume her when…
A red laser dot appeared on The Operator’s forehead. There was an alarm and the giant mower shut off. Somewhere on top, a yellow error light flashed. The Operator opened her eyes slowly. The blade was just an Imperial space centimeter from her face.
“That was close, love,” she announced. After a moment, she reached up and grabbed a part of the machine’s frame, staying clear of the blades and managed to pull herself from the muck.
The rest of the robomowers continued past doing their tasks completely unaware or unconcerned that their robotic counterpart had shut down.
“Come on, love,” The Operator encouraged. “We’ve got to find a way into that facility!”
Wherever the kenku was as The Operator spoke those words, he suddenly felt a sharp whack on his head and something landed nearby. It hit solid ground and didn’t land in the mud puddle. It was a new blaster! Not in the best shape, but a blaster nonetheless! And there was a note attached.
Should Jet examine the note, he realized it was written in a language he could understand. If he attempted to read it, assuming the ravenfolk was literate, it said “From Doubutt and Agent Milkshake”. Then, another curious thing happened. A small round blue sphere also landed on the ground near them.
If Jet looked up, he would notice a floating castle high up in the sky.
And just like that, it was over.
Jet's actor had taken off the Bird-head so he could smoke. A technican was about to disassemble the Yo-oonit remote controlled prop, so it could be recycled for another show. The Operator was preoccupied with finally getting the mud-makeup removed.
A few workers started to carry off the lovingly and painstalkingly hand-drawn backgrounds.
The show-runner watched it all from the director's chair. As the funding had run out, he had decided to direct the last episode himself. Just one last time, he wanted to sit in it, just one last time he wanted to feel the magic.
Sadly, the budget had only been enough for an aprupt cut-off.
With the camera's slowly vanishing, the studio almost seemed empty.
Suddenly, the nearby door flew open. Quickly, an assistant speed in. "Stop it!" He shouted. "All back on set! We've been bought!"
Instantly, the heavy background-painting was set down with a bang. All heads turned towards the assistant, murmuring filling the room.
The assistant held up a smartphone as if it was the holy grail.
"I have Xizz Xazz on the line! Space-Netflix has purchased the right to Space Adventures in Space! They want at least one more session, with the option of a spin-off and more! With the option of us ending up in one cinematic universe!"
There was a second of silence. All looked in awe.
The show-runner smiled and picked the megaphone back up. "You've heard the man! Everyone back on positions!"
And just half an hour later, he finally could say the words he thought he wouldn't get to say again, ever. "Action!"
Jet had just managed to save the Operator! He threw his arms in the air, his mimicry playing a heroic trumpet's sound.
He didn't want to downplay the small part that the automatic harm-reduction system of the harvester had played, but everyone know he had been most heroic in the last twelve seconds, and if you thought about it, wasn't that the important part?
Hid celebration was interrupted by something, falling on his head. Jet, ever the lightweight, landed on his butt, as the blaster made a small splash in the mud, next to him. Determinated to not have another jammed weapon, Jet quickly picked it up, rubbing the mud off with the inside of his poncho. It was the only somewhat-clean part of his clothes after the mud bath.
Satisfied with his work, he pointed the blaster at nowhere in particular, testing out it's weight in his hand.
"You talkin' to me?" he asked in the voice of a space-taxi-driver. He repeated both the gesture and the line a few times, until he got a good feel for the blaster.
Then, he whirled it around his finger, almost shooting himself (or the Operator) before stowing it away bellow his poncho.
“We’ve got to find a way into that facility!” Jet repeated back to the Operator, to get her attention. Then his claw-like, crow-like feet started painting a plan in the mud.
He pointed towards the facility, then towards the shut-down mower. "24/7 maintenance helpline, what is your emergency?" he asked, voice-line courtesy of some bored phone-operator (no relation).
Then, he painted an arrow towards the mower, marking the path of the maintenance-guys with a crude wrench-drawing. Pointing towards the operator and himself, then at the back of the giant machine, Jet ducked, as if to hide.
Then, suddenly he jumped from his imaginary hiding-spot.
"I need your clothes, your boots and your motorcycle." he suggested, while pointing the gun.
With a quick look at the Operator, Jet nodded. It was the perfect plan: hiding out here, ambushing the space-support that would no doubt will come to service the mower, infiltrating the facility in their clothing.
As always, Jet's genius was only hindered by his communication skills and his bird-brain. The later one was suddenly distracted, stepping away from his conversation with the Operator to pick up the orb and giving it a curious look, before shaking it.
Jet's actor had taken off the Bird-head so he could smoke. A technican was about to disassemble the Yo-oonit remote controlled prop, so it could be recycled for another show. The Operator was preoccupied with finally getting the mud-makeup removed.
A few workers started to carry off the lovingly and painstalkingly hand-drawn backgrounds.
The show-runner watched it all from the director's chair. As the funding had run out, he had decided to direct the last episode himself. Just one last time, he wanted to sit in it, just one last time he wanted to feel the magic.
Sadly, the budget had only been enough for an aprupt cut-off.
With the camera's slowly vanishing, the studio almost seemed empty.
Suddenly, the nearby door flew open. Quickly, an assistant speed in. "Stop it!" He shouted. "All back on set! We've been bought!"
Instantly, the heavy background-painting was set down with a bang. All heads turned towards the assistant, murmuring filling the room.
The assistant held up a smartphone as if it was the holy grail.
"I have Xizz Xazz on the line! Space-Netflix has purchased the right to Space Adventures in Space! They want at least one more session, with the option of a spin-off and more! With the option of us ending up in one cinematic universe!"
There was a second of silence. All looked in awe.
The show-runner smiled and picked the megaphone back up. "You've heard the man! Everyone back on positions!"
And just half an hour later, he finally could say the words he thought he wouldn't get to say again, ever. "Action!"
Jet had just managed to save the Operator! He threw his arms in the air, his mimicry playing a heroic trumpet's sound.
He didn't want to downplay the small part that the automatic harm-reduction system of the harvester had played, but everyone know he had been most heroic in the last twelve seconds, and if you thought about it, wasn't that the important part?
Hid celebration was interrupted by something, falling on his head. Jet, ever the lightweight, landed on his butt, as the blaster made a small splash in the mud, next to him. Determinated to not have another jammed weapon, Jet quickly picked it up, rubbing the mud off with the inside of his poncho. It was the only somewhat-clean part of his clothes after the mud bath.
Satisfied with his work, he pointed the blaster at nowhere in particular, testing out it's weight in his hand.
"You talkin' to me?" he asked in the voice of a space-taxi-driver. He repeated both the gesture and the line a few times, until he got a good feel for the blaster.
Then, he whirled it around his finger, almost shooting himself (or the Operator) before stowing it away bellow his poncho.
“We’ve got to find a way into that facility!” Jet repeated back to the Operator, to get her attention. Then his claw-like, crow-like feet started painting a plan in the mud.
He pointed towards the facility, then towards the shut-down mower. "24/7 maintenance helpline, what is your emergency?" he asked, voice-line courtesy of some bored phone-operator (no relation).
Then, he painted an arrow towards the mower, marking the path of the maintenance-guys with a crude wrench-drawing. Pointing towards the operator and himself, then at the back of the giant machine, Jet ducked, as if to hide.
Then, suddenly he jumped from his imaginary hiding-spot.
"I need your clothes, your boots and your motorcycle." he suggested, while pointing the gun.
With a quick look at the Operator, Jet nodded. It was the perfect plan: hiding out here, ambushing the space-support that would no doubt will come to service the mower, infiltrating the facility in their clothing.
As always, Jet's genius was only hindered by his communication skills and his bird-brain. The later one was suddenly distracted, stepping away from his conversation with the Operator to pick up the orb and giving it a curious look, before shaking it.
A short while later, a woman who looked strangely like ‘The Operator’ was sitting in her trailer. She was completely showered and had her hair pulled back into a ponytail and dressed in a pair of ripped blue jeans, a Taylor Swift t-shirt, pink Hello Kitty sneakers and sipping a can of Diet Coke while talking on her cellphone.
“And just like that, mid-episode they ran out of money,” She explained to the person on the other end. “Not mid-season, mid-episode. I was in this swamp about to get cut up by this robot lawnmower and that was it. They stopped filming and said ‘that’s it, show’s over’… and started tearing the set down right there…”
She paused for a moment as the person she was talking to commented.
“No, not a horror movie. It’s this goofy sci-fi thing,” she explained. “The story is ridiculous! So, I play this telephone operator in outer space. My character, as near as I understand it, used to take calls when people dial 411 or whatever and need to get someone’s telephone number. Like I guess Google doesn’t exist in the future? But then, the worker guys that wear the hardhats that go out and fix telephone poles or whatever quit their jobs or something. So I guess there is like a room full of these telephone ladies that answer calls all day and look up phone numbers for people, but my character is like special. She also records messages like if someone gets the wrong number or I guess back in the 1900s before the internet they actually had a number you could call to find out what time it was and what the weather was like. Not sure what the point was. Anyway, for reasons that make no sense, the phone ladies now have to go out in these repair van spaceships and fix the phone lines and somehow my character got sent to this political event that gets raided by aliens and they kidnap her and then she gets rescued by a talking crowman…”
She pauses again. There are several moments of silence as the caller responds.
“Yeah, right? So, what? There are like ‘space telephone poles’ floating between planets,” she asks, making air quotes when she says ‘space telephone poles’ and rolling her eyes. “I mean who wrote this story? It makes no sense! No wonder this thing got canceled. How did it even make it past the pilot episode? Why did they even bother filming a pilot?”
There is a knock at the door and an assistant sticks her head in the door… “They need you back on set,” the assistant proclaimed. “Change in plans. Filming is back on! The show is un-canceled!”
“Wait. What? I need to call you back,” she said quickly and hung up her phone and tucked it in her pocket.
A moment later, the room is stormed by make-up artists as a bucket of mud is dumped over her head. A wardrobe person hurries in with the same filthy dress on a hanger.
____________________________________________________________________________
Back on set a short while later…
The giant crow made a finger gun and stuck his blaster back in the holster.
“We’ve got to find a way into that facility!” Jet repeated back to the Operator, to get her attention…
Jet finished explaining and then proceeded to draw a plan in the mud while reciting lines from The Terminator 2 movie.
“And cut,” The director yelled and clacking his little board before The Operator could respond with her lines. Jet had just picked up the plastic ball that had fallen from the castle and began to examine it.
“Wait, what,” The Operator asked. There was more to the script. She had more lines after Jet explained his plan about ambushing whomever came to fix the broken robomower.
“Okay boys, you can tear down the set again,” The director instructed as the crew moved to break down the backdrops they’d had to hastily reassemble by hand. “Sorry, the guys cast to be the repairmen slipped off the set before we could stop them.”
“Ugh, so, it was a bit part,” The Operator argued, dropping her British accent and throwing her arms up in annoyance. “Can’t you just recast them? Put an intern in overalls or something!”
“We have something even better,” The director answered. “We got Morgan Freeman!” Morgan stood next to the camera and waved politely, coffee mug in hand. “We’re going to do a voice over to move the story along and cut to the interior of the facility.”
“Wait,” she objected. “I put this filthy dress back on and got mud slopped all over me just for 30 more seconds of filming only so we could retear down the backgrounds because we are now not finishing the scene just so Morgan Freeman can do a voice over? Uh, no offense Mr. Freeman, sir…”
“Uh, look, just take 5 while we record his lines. We’ll dub them in during post,” The director instructed. The Operator stormed off the set and past the camera and Morgan Freeman who looked at the director and shrugged.. “And don’t take the make up off,” The director called after her. “You’re still covered in muck once you get inside!”
____________________________________________________________________________
About 6 months later… as the finished sequence airs and the show resumes after the unexpected break between episodes:
The camera abruptly cuts away from Jet examining a plastic ball after sharing his brilliant plan. It pans across what looks to be clearly CGI generated hills on a green screen. A group of robotic lawn mowers who now seem far more realistic than a few minutes early as they are no longer low-budget props are seen headed back toward the facility as the sun sinks over the horizon in the distance.
“And so,” Morgan Freeman’s voice boomed as the camera focused on the ensemble of approaching machines. “Jet Roar and The Operator waited for hours for someone to come and service the disabled mower, only no one arrived. Such was the misfortune of the kenku, whose plans never seemed to play out as expected. However, as the other automated mowers made their way back to the facility to recharge for the night, the great gates opened.”
The camera cut to a much more impressive looking version of the building seen moments earlier as massive mechanical gates slowly opened. The machines were still far enough away allowing Jet and The Operator to enter, although they were missing from the shot.
“Swiftly, The Operator and her faithful aviary sidekick rushed through the massive gates to find themselves inside a collection of buildings. The entire complex was devoid of anything living. Neither human nor alien were anywhere to be seen,” Morgan’s voice continued as various buildings were shown behind the compound’s great walls.
“The purpose of this place quickly became clear to our heroes,” the narrator explained. “The robots were used to maintain the surrounding vegetation. Other robots harvested the fields off in the distance while another group of automatons went into nearby orchards to pick strange and exotic fruits from trees. Here they were taken, washed, sorted and crated before being packed aboard pilotless shuttles as the harvests were flown across the galaxy to distant planets where they were sold.”
A robotic vehicle on tank treads pulled a train of several carts to a small box-like shuttle craft filled with colorful fruits of different types. The carts were lifted inside the ship’s cargo hold by robotic arms. As the last one was picked up, the bay doors closed and the shuttle flew off into the heavens. The sky was now dark and filled with millions of stars. The Operator and Jet entered the gates just in time to see the empty launch pad and watch the shuttle vanish into the sky. Unknown to them, there would not be another shuttlecraft for days.
“Well, now what, love,” The Operator asked, turning to Jet. She was barefoot and still covered with mud. Her hair was down and the strands were clumped together from the muck.
“And just like that, mid-episode they ran out of money,” She explained to the person on the other end. “Not mid-season, mid-episode. I was in this swamp about to get cut up by this robot lawnmower and that was it. They stopped filming and said ‘that’s it, show’s over’… and started tearing the set down right there…”
She paused for a moment as the person she was talking to commented.
“No, not a horror movie. It’s this goofy sci-fi thing,” she explained. “The story is ridiculous! So, I play this telephone operator in outer space. My character, as near as I understand it, used to take calls when people dial 411 or whatever and need to get someone’s telephone number. Like I guess Google doesn’t exist in the future? But then, the worker guys that wear the hardhats that go out and fix telephone poles or whatever quit their jobs or something. So I guess there is like a room full of these telephone ladies that answer calls all day and look up phone numbers for people, but my character is like special. She also records messages like if someone gets the wrong number or I guess back in the 1900s before the internet they actually had a number you could call to find out what time it was and what the weather was like. Not sure what the point was. Anyway, for reasons that make no sense, the phone ladies now have to go out in these repair van spaceships and fix the phone lines and somehow my character got sent to this political event that gets raided by aliens and they kidnap her and then she gets rescued by a talking crowman…”
She pauses again. There are several moments of silence as the caller responds.
“Yeah, right? So, what? There are like ‘space telephone poles’ floating between planets,” she asks, making air quotes when she says ‘space telephone poles’ and rolling her eyes. “I mean who wrote this story? It makes no sense! No wonder this thing got canceled. How did it even make it past the pilot episode? Why did they even bother filming a pilot?”
There is a knock at the door and an assistant sticks her head in the door… “They need you back on set,” the assistant proclaimed. “Change in plans. Filming is back on! The show is un-canceled!”
“Wait. What? I need to call you back,” she said quickly and hung up her phone and tucked it in her pocket.
A moment later, the room is stormed by make-up artists as a bucket of mud is dumped over her head. A wardrobe person hurries in with the same filthy dress on a hanger.
____________________________________________________________________________
Back on set a short while later…
The giant crow made a finger gun and stuck his blaster back in the holster.
“We’ve got to find a way into that facility!” Jet repeated back to the Operator, to get her attention…
Jet finished explaining and then proceeded to draw a plan in the mud while reciting lines from The Terminator 2 movie.
“And cut,” The director yelled and clacking his little board before The Operator could respond with her lines. Jet had just picked up the plastic ball that had fallen from the castle and began to examine it.
“Wait, what,” The Operator asked. There was more to the script. She had more lines after Jet explained his plan about ambushing whomever came to fix the broken robomower.
“Okay boys, you can tear down the set again,” The director instructed as the crew moved to break down the backdrops they’d had to hastily reassemble by hand. “Sorry, the guys cast to be the repairmen slipped off the set before we could stop them.”
“Ugh, so, it was a bit part,” The Operator argued, dropping her British accent and throwing her arms up in annoyance. “Can’t you just recast them? Put an intern in overalls or something!”
“We have something even better,” The director answered. “We got Morgan Freeman!” Morgan stood next to the camera and waved politely, coffee mug in hand. “We’re going to do a voice over to move the story along and cut to the interior of the facility.”
“Wait,” she objected. “I put this filthy dress back on and got mud slopped all over me just for 30 more seconds of filming only so we could retear down the backgrounds because we are now not finishing the scene just so Morgan Freeman can do a voice over? Uh, no offense Mr. Freeman, sir…”
“Uh, look, just take 5 while we record his lines. We’ll dub them in during post,” The director instructed. The Operator stormed off the set and past the camera and Morgan Freeman who looked at the director and shrugged.. “And don’t take the make up off,” The director called after her. “You’re still covered in muck once you get inside!”
____________________________________________________________________________
About 6 months later… as the finished sequence airs and the show resumes after the unexpected break between episodes:
The camera abruptly cuts away from Jet examining a plastic ball after sharing his brilliant plan. It pans across what looks to be clearly CGI generated hills on a green screen. A group of robotic lawn mowers who now seem far more realistic than a few minutes early as they are no longer low-budget props are seen headed back toward the facility as the sun sinks over the horizon in the distance.
“And so,” Morgan Freeman’s voice boomed as the camera focused on the ensemble of approaching machines. “Jet Roar and The Operator waited for hours for someone to come and service the disabled mower, only no one arrived. Such was the misfortune of the kenku, whose plans never seemed to play out as expected. However, as the other automated mowers made their way back to the facility to recharge for the night, the great gates opened.”
The camera cut to a much more impressive looking version of the building seen moments earlier as massive mechanical gates slowly opened. The machines were still far enough away allowing Jet and The Operator to enter, although they were missing from the shot.
“Swiftly, The Operator and her faithful aviary sidekick rushed through the massive gates to find themselves inside a collection of buildings. The entire complex was devoid of anything living. Neither human nor alien were anywhere to be seen,” Morgan’s voice continued as various buildings were shown behind the compound’s great walls.
“The purpose of this place quickly became clear to our heroes,” the narrator explained. “The robots were used to maintain the surrounding vegetation. Other robots harvested the fields off in the distance while another group of automatons went into nearby orchards to pick strange and exotic fruits from trees. Here they were taken, washed, sorted and crated before being packed aboard pilotless shuttles as the harvests were flown across the galaxy to distant planets where they were sold.”
A robotic vehicle on tank treads pulled a train of several carts to a small box-like shuttle craft filled with colorful fruits of different types. The carts were lifted inside the ship’s cargo hold by robotic arms. As the last one was picked up, the bay doors closed and the shuttle flew off into the heavens. The sky was now dark and filled with millions of stars. The Operator and Jet entered the gates just in time to see the empty launch pad and watch the shuttle vanish into the sky. Unknown to them, there would not be another shuttlecraft for days.
“Well, now what, love,” The Operator asked, turning to Jet. She was barefoot and still covered with mud. Her hair was down and the strands were clumped together from the muck.
The director was a genius, who, instead of just ADR'ing the dialogue over an older scene of the Operator and Jet in the mud, insisted on wasting almost a quarter of a shooting day on getting these few seconds right.
At least that was what the commentary-track would later say. People whose paycheck actually depended on the movie staying in budget might have differing opinions.
But enough of that.
By the time Jet arrived, the shuttle was only a small dot on top of a long jet-trail, closer to leaving the atmosphere than to the ground.
Jet screamed bloody murder, replaying his favorite curses. Some of those, he even had from the Operator herself.
He stuck out his thumb, in the hopes of being picked up. Still, it was just an organic thumb, not an electronic one, and the shuttle didn't react. So the logical next step was, of course, to shoot it.
Jet fired a few blaster shots at the distant shuttle. The reach of a hand-blaster was about a space football-field, give or take, then the laser-bullets had lost too much momentum to damage a person, not to speak of a big vehicle. It was, like the thumb, just a general gesture of his frustration.
Jet shrugged. "Your next space train will arrive in…" he said, quoting an old space-railway announcer (The Conductor. Probably a college of the Operator).
What he wanted to say: The shuttle would surely return, when there were more harvested goods to collect.
All they needed was patience.
So he just sat down and waited.
An eternity passed by. Jet distracted himself by pondering questions about life, the universe and everything. Slowly, he pulled out a space-cranola bar, held the label in a way that was easy to pick up by the viewers, and ate it as he thought.
Finally, his angelic patience ran out.
It had been about three minutes.
Jet jumped to his feet, once again cursing. He pointed towards the point, where the shuttle had left orbit.
"I hope you have an backup" he quoted an old advertisement for IT-Services.
Of course he didn't mean the Operator, but the farming-company. There had to be another shuttle out there, there had to be! Jet quickly pulled the Operator along as he went and explored the base, unable to just sit still.
At least that was what the commentary-track would later say. People whose paycheck actually depended on the movie staying in budget might have differing opinions.
But enough of that.
By the time Jet arrived, the shuttle was only a small dot on top of a long jet-trail, closer to leaving the atmosphere than to the ground.
Jet screamed bloody murder, replaying his favorite curses. Some of those, he even had from the Operator herself.
He stuck out his thumb, in the hopes of being picked up. Still, it was just an organic thumb, not an electronic one, and the shuttle didn't react. So the logical next step was, of course, to shoot it.
Jet fired a few blaster shots at the distant shuttle. The reach of a hand-blaster was about a space football-field, give or take, then the laser-bullets had lost too much momentum to damage a person, not to speak of a big vehicle. It was, like the thumb, just a general gesture of his frustration.
Jet shrugged. "Your next space train will arrive in…" he said, quoting an old space-railway announcer (The Conductor. Probably a college of the Operator).
What he wanted to say: The shuttle would surely return, when there were more harvested goods to collect.
All they needed was patience.
So he just sat down and waited.
An eternity passed by. Jet distracted himself by pondering questions about life, the universe and everything. Slowly, he pulled out a space-cranola bar, held the label in a way that was easy to pick up by the viewers, and ate it as he thought.
Finally, his angelic patience ran out.
It had been about three minutes.
Jet jumped to his feet, once again cursing. He pointed towards the point, where the shuttle had left orbit.
"I hope you have an backup" he quoted an old advertisement for IT-Services.
Of course he didn't mean the Operator, but the farming-company. There had to be another shuttle out there, there had to be! Jet quickly pulled the Operator along as he went and explored the base, unable to just sit still.
The kenku threw a bit of a tantrum when he saw the shuttle depart before they could get to it. Bum luck! If only the robot workers had opened the doors a few minutes sooner. After a failed attempt to shoot the fleeing craft down, he seemed to calm down a bit.
Jet shrugged. "Your next space train will arrive in…"
He sat down, munching on an energy bar. The sponsors had snuck the promotion in as sponsors tended to do.
"That's a fantastic question, love," The Operator replied. She had calmed down over the hours they waited for someone to take a look at the broken down mower. Now she was in a much more rational mood. "There has to be a computer or something. Maybe we can summon another transport or at least learn when the next one arrives. There has to be a log or schedule somewhere."
The Operator began looking around the compound. "There's a lot o' buildings around," She noted. "We ought to search for somethin' useful. Come along, love!"
"I hope you have a backup."
The Operator shook her head. She got up and moved toward the closest structure, hoping the doors were not going to be locked. Her plan was to go building by building to see what they could learn and perhaps find something useful that could help them.
"One thing I noticed earlier," She began as she moved to begin her search. "Is I 'aven't seen any patrols in hours. It seems they must've put all their focus on gettin' the riot under control. That means they probably 'aven't missed us. We're not that important in the scheme of things, apparently. That suits me just fine, love! If we're not missed, then no one is lookin' for us..."
Her thoughts turned to The Doctor and Yoo-nit. Hopefully THEY were looking for the pair, but had no way of knowing where they were. Maybe she and Jet could try to contact them? No. Any transmissions they made, assuming they could find communication equipment, would likely draw the attention of Helmet and his sister's minions. Too risky. Not wanting to put any ideas in Jet's head, The Operator kept quiet.
She peered into the first building which was unlocked. There were conveyors and hoses. A small door on the side lead to the conveyor in question. It was not shaped for a human or bi-ped, but rather, a rectangular crate.
"A wash station," The Operator announced aloud gleefully when she realized what they were looking at. "Not intended for folk like us, but I doubt this contraption knows the difference between a basket of space turnips an' a kenku and human girl. Whadda ya say we clean up a bit?"
The Operator moved closer to examine the machine. It seemed sensors detected when a crate of vegetables was placed on the line. It was just like a good ol' space car wash, only smaller!
"'Ere goes nothing, love," She said and climbed on. The machine started as The Operator laid down on the conveyor belt and prepared for a good scrubbing. She left her dress on so it would get clean, too.
Jet shrugged. "Your next space train will arrive in…"
He sat down, munching on an energy bar. The sponsors had snuck the promotion in as sponsors tended to do.
"That's a fantastic question, love," The Operator replied. She had calmed down over the hours they waited for someone to take a look at the broken down mower. Now she was in a much more rational mood. "There has to be a computer or something. Maybe we can summon another transport or at least learn when the next one arrives. There has to be a log or schedule somewhere."
The Operator began looking around the compound. "There's a lot o' buildings around," She noted. "We ought to search for somethin' useful. Come along, love!"
"I hope you have a backup."
The Operator shook her head. She got up and moved toward the closest structure, hoping the doors were not going to be locked. Her plan was to go building by building to see what they could learn and perhaps find something useful that could help them.
"One thing I noticed earlier," She began as she moved to begin her search. "Is I 'aven't seen any patrols in hours. It seems they must've put all their focus on gettin' the riot under control. That means they probably 'aven't missed us. We're not that important in the scheme of things, apparently. That suits me just fine, love! If we're not missed, then no one is lookin' for us..."
Her thoughts turned to The Doctor and Yoo-nit. Hopefully THEY were looking for the pair, but had no way of knowing where they were. Maybe she and Jet could try to contact them? No. Any transmissions they made, assuming they could find communication equipment, would likely draw the attention of Helmet and his sister's minions. Too risky. Not wanting to put any ideas in Jet's head, The Operator kept quiet.
She peered into the first building which was unlocked. There were conveyors and hoses. A small door on the side lead to the conveyor in question. It was not shaped for a human or bi-ped, but rather, a rectangular crate.
"A wash station," The Operator announced aloud gleefully when she realized what they were looking at. "Not intended for folk like us, but I doubt this contraption knows the difference between a basket of space turnips an' a kenku and human girl. Whadda ya say we clean up a bit?"
The Operator moved closer to examine the machine. It seemed sensors detected when a crate of vegetables was placed on the line. It was just like a good ol' space car wash, only smaller!
"'Ere goes nothing, love," She said and climbed on. The machine started as The Operator laid down on the conveyor belt and prepared for a good scrubbing. She left her dress on so it would get clean, too.
Let's talk about space space engineers. They're like regular space engineers, just in space.
A space space engineer could probably build a spaceship from the parts that could be found on any old regular state-of-the-art automated space farm run by a black hole generator.
A good space space engineer could even build said spaceship in such a way that it didn't explode on the start-pad.
A really good space space engineer could even build a spaceship that reached the atmosphere and beyond.
The best space space engineer could even build a spaceship that reached the atmosphere and beyond with an alive crew.
The level where said crew wouldn't eventually run out of food in space wasn't the space space engineer's fault. It was the farm's, for not providing them things needed for actual practical FTL-travel.
Jet was a rudimentary space space engineer (Fun fact: this was the sentence that made Morgan Freeman quit the script.). He could exchange space oil if needed and could tell a spark plug from an ear plug.
He couldn't do anything beyond maintenance, but that didn't stop him from trying. This positive, spunk-filled attitude was what made him a good adventurer, it was for example the reason he alone downed three Arcadian spaceships during the big space world war.
It was also the reason why he didn't take it too hard when the Arcadian decided to kick him out of their mechanics squad.
But his attitude failed him today. Luckily, he wasn't enough of a space space engineer to even realize that he could just build his own spaceship from a box of scraps (as long as one scrap was a black hole generator), so he walked around, his head hung low.
His emotional defeat lasted all of three seconds, until the fact that there was a vegetable-wash distracted him. Once he was distracted, his plucky "can do"-attitude forced his mind back towards cocky, as if it was a compass needle.
With a quick jump, Jet jumped upon the conveyor belt and lifted his arms as if it was a water slide.
A water slide moving at one whole mp/h. Jet's arms got tired of the pose before he actually reached the washing part. Instead, he got himself set up with the space carrots that the machine was actually here for and munched them down.
He still was enjoying his meal as the brushes polished his beak.
Then, they suddenly stopped. A mechanical voice rang out "human …ish personell in secret entrance three found, initiating entrance-protocol."
Jet had just enough time to throw his arms up again, as the belt turned sideways, shoveling him in an hidden chute deep down into the secret part of the space planet. ("Planets! are! in! space! by! definition! You don't need to… aaargh!" - Quote. Morgan Freeman's Agent.)
Of course Jet couldn't have forseen that happen to him, if he paid more attention to the Operator. After all, the mechanical voice didn't call her humanish before throwing her down the chute, just human. So what happened to her was entirely different.
A space space engineer could probably build a spaceship from the parts that could be found on any old regular state-of-the-art automated space farm run by a black hole generator.
A good space space engineer could even build said spaceship in such a way that it didn't explode on the start-pad.
A really good space space engineer could even build a spaceship that reached the atmosphere and beyond.
The best space space engineer could even build a spaceship that reached the atmosphere and beyond with an alive crew.
The level where said crew wouldn't eventually run out of food in space wasn't the space space engineer's fault. It was the farm's, for not providing them things needed for actual practical FTL-travel.
Jet was a rudimentary space space engineer (Fun fact: this was the sentence that made Morgan Freeman quit the script.). He could exchange space oil if needed and could tell a spark plug from an ear plug.
He couldn't do anything beyond maintenance, but that didn't stop him from trying. This positive, spunk-filled attitude was what made him a good adventurer, it was for example the reason he alone downed three Arcadian spaceships during the big space world war.
It was also the reason why he didn't take it too hard when the Arcadian decided to kick him out of their mechanics squad.
But his attitude failed him today. Luckily, he wasn't enough of a space space engineer to even realize that he could just build his own spaceship from a box of scraps (as long as one scrap was a black hole generator), so he walked around, his head hung low.
His emotional defeat lasted all of three seconds, until the fact that there was a vegetable-wash distracted him. Once he was distracted, his plucky "can do"-attitude forced his mind back towards cocky, as if it was a compass needle.
With a quick jump, Jet jumped upon the conveyor belt and lifted his arms as if it was a water slide.
A water slide moving at one whole mp/h. Jet's arms got tired of the pose before he actually reached the washing part. Instead, he got himself set up with the space carrots that the machine was actually here for and munched them down.
He still was enjoying his meal as the brushes polished his beak.
Then, they suddenly stopped. A mechanical voice rang out "human …ish personell in secret entrance three found, initiating entrance-protocol."
Jet had just enough time to throw his arms up again, as the belt turned sideways, shoveling him in an hidden chute deep down into the secret part of the space planet. ("Planets! are! in! space! by! definition! You don't need to… aaargh!" - Quote. Morgan Freeman's Agent.)
Of course Jet couldn't have forseen that happen to him, if he paid more attention to the Operator. After all, the mechanical voice didn't call her humanish before throwing her down the chute, just human. So what happened to her was entirely different.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy describes the Babel fish as a small, yellow, leech-like creature that is "probably the oddest thing in the Universe". When placed in a person's ear, it translates any language instantaneously into the listener's native tongue, feeding on brainwave energy to provide this function. The Guide also notes the fish's controversial role in a philosophical argument about the existence of God and humorously suggests it has caused more wars than any other thing in existence.
Not only did the Bable fish translate any language into the listener's native tongue, but it also very carefully and purposefully put the translation into words easily understood by the brain's owner. In fact, it would often customize the translation so that it would adjust for things such as IQ, age and educational level regarding vocabulary, regional and local dialects, and the word choices the person in question might use should he/she/it/they vocalize the explanation for another. For example, if the translation in question was "I need to pop into the loo", the Bable fish might phrase this as "I need to go take a dump" for a cruder being such as the Botos of Zemos VI or even more rude terms that would not be appropriate to repeat here.
In the case of Jet Roar, the Bable fish might also translate a boring phrase such as "Foreign contaminates detected" to something much more exciting that the kenku would want to hear such as "human …ish personnel in secret entrance three found, initiating entrance-protocol." One might argue that the above translation completely misconstrues or changes the meaning entirely, this was not true for Jet. The important thing in this instance was he was neither a space carrot nor a basket of space turnips and therefore did not belong on the conveyor and neither did The Operator.
That brings us to how The Operator's Bable fish translated the previous message which went something more like this: "Warning! Warning! human worker detected on the processing line!" Up until this moment, The Operator had been enjoying her ride through the vegetable wash station. A pair of robotic arms reached down and yanked her from the conveyor belt. Had it not done so, she would have ended up landing safely and unharmed in an open crate reserved for vegetables. Nothing dangerous would have happened to her and she could have easily climbed out.
Meanwhile, the sensors scanning for contaminates or produce that didn't pass quality control did not recognize Jet as an intelligent bipedal being who might have accidentally fallen into the machinery. It immediately diverted him on the conveyor to the rubbish chute as failing inspection.
Fortunately for Jet, there was not an incinerator at the bottom of the dark and winding chute. The ride might have been more fun had the kenku had any idea where he was going and was positive he was not going to end up burned to ashes in a furnace. Instead, Jet found himself landing in a rubbish cart deep inside a hidden and forgotten city far below the surface of the world above. Unknown to the kenku, they had not been on an organic planet at all, but rather a planetoid.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy had the following things to say about "planetoids": Planetoids are large, round, planet-like structures similar to moons often covered in cities or other terrain that orbited real planets or sometimes stars. They are generally much smaller than most inhabited full-sized planets. Like regular planets, they can have deserts, forests, open plains, mountains, artic regions and oceans. Many planetoids across the universe happened to be built by the Magratheans. Perhaps the most famous of their projects was a bluish-green full-sized planet called "Earth" that was in fact a giant supercomputer created to find the Ultimate Question to the Ultimate Answer of Life, the Universe, and Everything. That, however, was another matter...
This much smaller and distant cousin had been created for agricultural purposes on the surface with a full city inside the planetoid. The inner part was filled with tunnels, buildings and plazas to allow the organic workers to live, work and control the machinery on the surface. That way, the land on the outer world could be fully utilized for growing food and other agricultural tasks. The interior was reserved for important administrative things such as living quarters for the organic workers, paying taxes, board meetings, generating paperwork to place in filing cabinets, un-necessary space Zoom meetings with off-world investors and suppliers that could have been emails , planning company picnics and holding Space-Quake tournaments on the vast computer network that ran throughout the underground city.
Unfortunately, the owners of the planetoid and agricultural operation on it had gone bankrupt centuries ago. Even if the venture had proved profitable, the evil galactic space Empire had commandeered the planetoid and installed a for-profit prison to incarcerate beings that dared to oppose them and imprison anyone they disliked in general. No one had bothered to turn off the machinery, so the robotic gardeners and farmers had continue to tend the crops and ship produce to customers across the galaxy despite virtually all of them having millions of space dollars in unpaid invoices. The customers did appreciate the free food and lack of collection calls regarding their overdue bills. The Empire might have appreciated the free bounty had they thought things through. Instead, they wasted tens of thousands of space credits importing food for the prisoners from a vendor on a distant world rather than utilizing the produce produced here.
Jet landed roughly in bin full of rotting fruits and vegetables along with other garbage. This made him only slightly less clean having just been through the wash station. Although the space fruits and vegetables did put fresh stains on his recently cleaned poncho, the greater benefit of them cushioning the raven man's fall outweighed the inconvenience of once again being in filthy clothes. Jet only had a moment to peer above the rim of the rubbish bin he'd landed in before processing his new predicament. The kenku found that he was in one of several wagons pulled by a robot locomotive or tug on rails. The chute he had fallen through was well out of reach and the trash train was sitting in some sort of rubbish station that disposed of the trash from the facility on the surface above. There was no sign of the sky.
Suddenly, the bin jolted violently knocking Jet back inside and onto a pile of filth. The train began to move down a cave-like tunnel as he began to get his wits about him and studied the subterranean environment. It was at that moment that Jet realized The Operator was not in the bin with him, nor would he find her. She wasn't in any of the other bins as the underground garbage train gained speed and headed down the tracks into the darkness...
Meanwhile far above, the robotic claws set The Operator down in the middle of the cleaning station building. She peered down the conveyor belt which had now stopped. "Jet? Jet, love? Where are you," She called. It was then she realized the kenku had been diverted off the line and down a trap door when the mechanical claws snatched her up and whisked her to safety. "Oh buggar," she whispered. At least her dress and hair were clean. She paused to find a band used to tie up bags of fruit and put her hair back into its traditional bun. She still had no shoes. The Operator began to look for a way to get below, hoping Jet had survived falling down wherever the trap door led.
Not only did the Bable fish translate any language into the listener's native tongue, but it also very carefully and purposefully put the translation into words easily understood by the brain's owner. In fact, it would often customize the translation so that it would adjust for things such as IQ, age and educational level regarding vocabulary, regional and local dialects, and the word choices the person in question might use should he/she/it/they vocalize the explanation for another. For example, if the translation in question was "I need to pop into the loo", the Bable fish might phrase this as "I need to go take a dump" for a cruder being such as the Botos of Zemos VI or even more rude terms that would not be appropriate to repeat here.
In the case of Jet Roar, the Bable fish might also translate a boring phrase such as "Foreign contaminates detected" to something much more exciting that the kenku would want to hear such as "human …ish personnel in secret entrance three found, initiating entrance-protocol." One might argue that the above translation completely misconstrues or changes the meaning entirely, this was not true for Jet. The important thing in this instance was he was neither a space carrot nor a basket of space turnips and therefore did not belong on the conveyor and neither did The Operator.
That brings us to how The Operator's Bable fish translated the previous message which went something more like this: "Warning! Warning! human worker detected on the processing line!" Up until this moment, The Operator had been enjoying her ride through the vegetable wash station. A pair of robotic arms reached down and yanked her from the conveyor belt. Had it not done so, she would have ended up landing safely and unharmed in an open crate reserved for vegetables. Nothing dangerous would have happened to her and she could have easily climbed out.
Meanwhile, the sensors scanning for contaminates or produce that didn't pass quality control did not recognize Jet as an intelligent bipedal being who might have accidentally fallen into the machinery. It immediately diverted him on the conveyor to the rubbish chute as failing inspection.
Fortunately for Jet, there was not an incinerator at the bottom of the dark and winding chute. The ride might have been more fun had the kenku had any idea where he was going and was positive he was not going to end up burned to ashes in a furnace. Instead, Jet found himself landing in a rubbish cart deep inside a hidden and forgotten city far below the surface of the world above. Unknown to the kenku, they had not been on an organic planet at all, but rather a planetoid.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy had the following things to say about "planetoids": Planetoids are large, round, planet-like structures similar to moons often covered in cities or other terrain that orbited real planets or sometimes stars. They are generally much smaller than most inhabited full-sized planets. Like regular planets, they can have deserts, forests, open plains, mountains, artic regions and oceans. Many planetoids across the universe happened to be built by the Magratheans. Perhaps the most famous of their projects was a bluish-green full-sized planet called "Earth" that was in fact a giant supercomputer created to find the Ultimate Question to the Ultimate Answer of Life, the Universe, and Everything. That, however, was another matter...
This much smaller and distant cousin had been created for agricultural purposes on the surface with a full city inside the planetoid. The inner part was filled with tunnels, buildings and plazas to allow the organic workers to live, work and control the machinery on the surface. That way, the land on the outer world could be fully utilized for growing food and other agricultural tasks. The interior was reserved for important administrative things such as living quarters for the organic workers, paying taxes, board meetings, generating paperwork to place in filing cabinets, un-necessary space Zoom meetings with off-world investors and suppliers that could have been emails , planning company picnics and holding Space-Quake tournaments on the vast computer network that ran throughout the underground city.
Unfortunately, the owners of the planetoid and agricultural operation on it had gone bankrupt centuries ago. Even if the venture had proved profitable, the evil galactic space Empire had commandeered the planetoid and installed a for-profit prison to incarcerate beings that dared to oppose them and imprison anyone they disliked in general. No one had bothered to turn off the machinery, so the robotic gardeners and farmers had continue to tend the crops and ship produce to customers across the galaxy despite virtually all of them having millions of space dollars in unpaid invoices. The customers did appreciate the free food and lack of collection calls regarding their overdue bills. The Empire might have appreciated the free bounty had they thought things through. Instead, they wasted tens of thousands of space credits importing food for the prisoners from a vendor on a distant world rather than utilizing the produce produced here.
Jet landed roughly in bin full of rotting fruits and vegetables along with other garbage. This made him only slightly less clean having just been through the wash station. Although the space fruits and vegetables did put fresh stains on his recently cleaned poncho, the greater benefit of them cushioning the raven man's fall outweighed the inconvenience of once again being in filthy clothes. Jet only had a moment to peer above the rim of the rubbish bin he'd landed in before processing his new predicament. The kenku found that he was in one of several wagons pulled by a robot locomotive or tug on rails. The chute he had fallen through was well out of reach and the trash train was sitting in some sort of rubbish station that disposed of the trash from the facility on the surface above. There was no sign of the sky.
Suddenly, the bin jolted violently knocking Jet back inside and onto a pile of filth. The train began to move down a cave-like tunnel as he began to get his wits about him and studied the subterranean environment. It was at that moment that Jet realized The Operator was not in the bin with him, nor would he find her. She wasn't in any of the other bins as the underground garbage train gained speed and headed down the tracks into the darkness...
Meanwhile far above, the robotic claws set The Operator down in the middle of the cleaning station building. She peered down the conveyor belt which had now stopped. "Jet? Jet, love? Where are you," She called. It was then she realized the kenku had been diverted off the line and down a trap door when the mechanical claws snatched her up and whisked her to safety. "Oh buggar," she whispered. At least her dress and hair were clean. She paused to find a band used to tie up bags of fruit and put her hair back into its traditional bun. She still had no shoes. The Operator began to look for a way to get below, hoping Jet had survived falling down wherever the trap door led.
The Deschain™ Poncho is something that shouldn't be missing in any modern gunfighter's arsenal. It was available in stylish red, a deep blue, a silky black benefiting of assassins and of course in neon cameo, so you still were easily recognizable while blending in with the environment.
It came with a mesh of reflective, laser-repulsing material woven into the fabric. If the light hit the poncho just right, you could see the cool hexagon patterns glowing beneath the surface.
Of course it only offered real protection if your enemy used a laser that happened to shoot a hexagon-patterned beam, instead of the slightly more common beam-shaped beam, but in that case it could kind of save your life.
It had other advantages: since it saved on research for defensive properties, it could be sold for cheap, and since the mode designers didn't have to make considerations for actual defensive properties, it looked very cool. Order today, and it won't put a dent into your children's inheritance when you're identified as the coolest looking corpse on the battlefield!
It had one advantage over regular armor though: while not laser repellent, it was at least dirt repellent.
Jet moved like a poster child of a Deschain-Poncho™ ad spot (a poser-child?). He landed in a perfectly executed and perfectly useless combat roll. As he came up, he aimed his blaster in every possible direction in a snappy, tacticool kind of movement.
Then the space vegetables outmaneuvered him: A space turnip that was sorted out for looking too much like a regular turnip was sorted out moments after Jet, went down the hatch and hit the back of his head.
Jet got knocked down, but he got up again. Then the train kept him down, the acceleration suddenly jerking his upper body back.
It took a moment for Jet to got up. Then he took his bloody revenge on the somewhat-space turnip by consuming it.
"The tasselled wobbegong is a renown ambush predator… with a surprise in every bag of… arrivals on gate nine…" Jet started to give the Operator the usual spiel, blending the calm voice of a nature documentation, the hectic tone of an advertisement and the dry tone of an space airport announcer into a complex suggestion for tactical operations.
But there wasn't any Operator around. As no one said "Love, I have no clue what you're talking about", Jet slowly looked around, noticing the visible Operator-shaped hole in the air next to him.
No operator and no joo-nit. The kenku let his beak hang, making general sad sound. Without someone to call him love, or be snarky in the most monotone voice possible, Jet suddenly felt lonely.
He withdrew. Not emotionally, emotionally, he was just a bit bruised, he withdrew his body into a big pile of space carrots, ready to ambush anyone stupid enough to wait for him as the doors opened.
It came with a mesh of reflective, laser-repulsing material woven into the fabric. If the light hit the poncho just right, you could see the cool hexagon patterns glowing beneath the surface.
Of course it only offered real protection if your enemy used a laser that happened to shoot a hexagon-patterned beam, instead of the slightly more common beam-shaped beam, but in that case it could kind of save your life.
It had other advantages: since it saved on research for defensive properties, it could be sold for cheap, and since the mode designers didn't have to make considerations for actual defensive properties, it looked very cool. Order today, and it won't put a dent into your children's inheritance when you're identified as the coolest looking corpse on the battlefield!
It had one advantage over regular armor though: while not laser repellent, it was at least dirt repellent.
Jet moved like a poster child of a Deschain-Poncho™ ad spot (a poser-child?). He landed in a perfectly executed and perfectly useless combat roll. As he came up, he aimed his blaster in every possible direction in a snappy, tacticool kind of movement.
Then the space vegetables outmaneuvered him: A space turnip that was sorted out for looking too much like a regular turnip was sorted out moments after Jet, went down the hatch and hit the back of his head.
Jet got knocked down, but he got up again. Then the train kept him down, the acceleration suddenly jerking his upper body back.
It took a moment for Jet to got up. Then he took his bloody revenge on the somewhat-space turnip by consuming it.
"The tasselled wobbegong is a renown ambush predator… with a surprise in every bag of… arrivals on gate nine…" Jet started to give the Operator the usual spiel, blending the calm voice of a nature documentation, the hectic tone of an advertisement and the dry tone of an space airport announcer into a complex suggestion for tactical operations.
But there wasn't any Operator around. As no one said "Love, I have no clue what you're talking about", Jet slowly looked around, noticing the visible Operator-shaped hole in the air next to him.
No operator and no joo-nit. The kenku let his beak hang, making general sad sound. Without someone to call him love, or be snarky in the most monotone voice possible, Jet suddenly felt lonely.
He withdrew. Not emotionally, emotionally, he was just a bit bruised, he withdrew his body into a big pile of space carrots, ready to ambush anyone stupid enough to wait for him as the doors opened.
According to The Guide, The Infinite Improbability Drive is "a wonderful new method of crossing vast interstellar distances in a mere nothingth of a second". The drive allows a ship to pass through every conceivable point in every conceivable universe almost simultaneously, leading to unexpected transformations and outcomes upon arrival, such as planets turning into banana fruitcake.
Currently, The Infinite Improbability Drive is installed on The Heart of Gold, the sleekest, most advanced, coolest spaceship in the galaxy. Its stunning good looks mirror its awesome speed and power. The ship is currently in the procession of President Zaphod Beeblebrox. Because he stole it, Zaphod is considered the owner of the Heart of Gold. It should also be noted that it is because of Zaphod's fundraiser that The Operator is in her current predicament. It should further be noted that none of this is relevant at the moment because Zaphod, The Heart of Gold, nor The Infinite Improbability Drive play into the following improbable events that are about to occur.
The Operator peered at the chute that had devoured the kenku moments earlier as she retraced her steps. Jet had been right behind her on the cleaning conveyor belt when she was abruptly removed from the oversized dishwasher and placed on her feet by a set of claws. She hadn't seen what had happened, but now walking the length of the equipment, it was clear that he must have been deposited down the trapdoor for rejected produce.
"Oh my," The Operator surmised aloud. She briefly contemplated following the crow man's assumed path, but decided against it since there was no way to know where the trap door lead. She could easily end up in a rubbish masher or incinerator which would certainly ruin what remained of her day. It would be an awful shame to die after having made it this far. Besides, if there was an incinerator or masher below, the odds of Jet surviving it were not favorable. If the kenku were dead, The Operator also dying would benefit neither of them.
"You there! Hands up," A deep male voice demanded, startling The Operator. She had gotten careless and someone had managed to enter the building and she was now standing in plain sight. "Turn around slowly."
Instinctively, The Operator raised her hands and did as she was instructed. A shadowy figure was standing in the door armed with a laser rifle pointed at her. It was the kind of rifle that the kenku would covet if he were here.
"Oh buggar," The Operator grumbled. "Look, I've already been kidnapped once today, love. I've reached my quota I'm afraid so if that's your intention, I must respectfully decline... unless of course, you plan to kill me. I really hope you won't do that. I rather enjoy being alive. Perhaps we can work out a third option, love?"
Currently, The Infinite Improbability Drive is installed on The Heart of Gold, the sleekest, most advanced, coolest spaceship in the galaxy. Its stunning good looks mirror its awesome speed and power. The ship is currently in the procession of President Zaphod Beeblebrox. Because he stole it, Zaphod is considered the owner of the Heart of Gold. It should also be noted that it is because of Zaphod's fundraiser that The Operator is in her current predicament. It should further be noted that none of this is relevant at the moment because Zaphod, The Heart of Gold, nor The Infinite Improbability Drive play into the following improbable events that are about to occur.
The Operator peered at the chute that had devoured the kenku moments earlier as she retraced her steps. Jet had been right behind her on the cleaning conveyor belt when she was abruptly removed from the oversized dishwasher and placed on her feet by a set of claws. She hadn't seen what had happened, but now walking the length of the equipment, it was clear that he must have been deposited down the trapdoor for rejected produce.
"Oh my," The Operator surmised aloud. She briefly contemplated following the crow man's assumed path, but decided against it since there was no way to know where the trap door lead. She could easily end up in a rubbish masher or incinerator which would certainly ruin what remained of her day. It would be an awful shame to die after having made it this far. Besides, if there was an incinerator or masher below, the odds of Jet surviving it were not favorable. If the kenku were dead, The Operator also dying would benefit neither of them.
"You there! Hands up," A deep male voice demanded, startling The Operator. She had gotten careless and someone had managed to enter the building and she was now standing in plain sight. "Turn around slowly."
Instinctively, The Operator raised her hands and did as she was instructed. A shadowy figure was standing in the door armed with a laser rifle pointed at her. It was the kind of rifle that the kenku would covet if he were here.
"Oh buggar," The Operator grumbled. "Look, I've already been kidnapped once today, love. I've reached my quota I'm afraid so if that's your intention, I must respectfully decline... unless of course, you plan to kill me. I really hope you won't do that. I rather enjoy being alive. Perhaps we can work out a third option, love?"
You are on: Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » Space Adventures in Space (private)