This is a private game for those who have been invited. We will pick up where we left off in the Towel Day RP.
Our story so far... "In the beginning the Universe was created. This had made many people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move.”
― Douglas Adams.
Since then, the following things have occurred:
Several random beings found themselves at an intergalactic fundraiser for the re-election of Zaphod Bebblebrox who was running for another term as president of the galaxy. Beeblebrox failed to appear, however. The various beings in attendance were enjoying free cocktails and food courtesy of the Intergalactic Telephone Company (ITC) who had the unfortunate misfortune of sponsoring the whole debacle. Even more unfortunate than that, The Operator, also known as the Intergalactic Time Lady was forced, er, asked to be the celebrity host.
Just as it seemed nothing could become any more unfortunate, it did. Some rather rude individuals with large blasters arrived uninvited and made the attendees rather uncomfortable...
Our story so far... "In the beginning the Universe was created. This had made many people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move.”
― Douglas Adams.
Since then, the following things have occurred:
Several random beings found themselves at an intergalactic fundraiser for the re-election of Zaphod Bebblebrox who was running for another term as president of the galaxy. Beeblebrox failed to appear, however. The various beings in attendance were enjoying free cocktails and food courtesy of the Intergalactic Telephone Company (ITC) who had the unfortunate misfortune of sponsoring the whole debacle. Even more unfortunate than that, The Operator, also known as the Intergalactic Time Lady was forced, er, asked to be the celebrity host.
Just as it seemed nothing could become any more unfortunate, it did. Some rather rude individuals with large blasters arrived uninvited and made the attendees rather uncomfortable...
A Zaphod Beeblebrox reelection campaign was pretty high on the list of worst ways to spend an evening. A gunfight was also on the list, but much lower.
"Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!" Jet announced, in an attempt to out-danger the small robot that came his way.
As he was still standing on the table, the Kenku was easily visible to the robot.
A second explosion turned the nearby wall from architecture into history. Stone dust poured into the room, and with it, the attackers. Jet's eyes became slits once more, but he couldn't make out more than big silhouettes moving through the smoke.
Suddenly, laser-blasts lightened up the room.
Whoever they were, they were armed and dangerous, and they had decided to show they meant business by shooting up some poor MFers (Mirthful Fellows) at the party.
Unlucky for Jet, he was a very mirthful fellow, whose position on the table had painted a big, red neon target on his back. Luckily, the dust cloud worked both ways, and at least obscured him as a target.
He recoiled from a sudden thin string of light that missed him and tore into one of the "Vote Beeblebrox"-Posters on the wall behind it, setting it ablaze.
With one last, longing blick towards the bowl (content: fruits, punch, and Jet's own laser-repeater), he dove off the table. In the proud tradition of gangster-movies, he toppled the table itself in the movement, creating something resembling cover for himself.
Sadly, the punchbowl landed on the other end of the table, shattering on impact and spilling its content.
Jet leaned over the fallen table to reach his freed repeater. His attempt earned him a glass shard in his thumb, and a few scorched feathers, as the impacts of enemy lasers came closer once again.
Still cursing like a sailor (well, to be exact, like a ITC-Operator) he withdrew behind the table empty handed, leaning his back against it as more and more lasers slowly turned the table into swiss cheese.
"Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!" Jet announced, in an attempt to out-danger the small robot that came his way.
As he was still standing on the table, the Kenku was easily visible to the robot.
A second explosion turned the nearby wall from architecture into history. Stone dust poured into the room, and with it, the attackers. Jet's eyes became slits once more, but he couldn't make out more than big silhouettes moving through the smoke.
Suddenly, laser-blasts lightened up the room.
Whoever they were, they were armed and dangerous, and they had decided to show they meant business by shooting up some poor MFers (Mirthful Fellows) at the party.
Unlucky for Jet, he was a very mirthful fellow, whose position on the table had painted a big, red neon target on his back. Luckily, the dust cloud worked both ways, and at least obscured him as a target.
He recoiled from a sudden thin string of light that missed him and tore into one of the "Vote Beeblebrox"-Posters on the wall behind it, setting it ablaze.
With one last, longing blick towards the bowl (content: fruits, punch, and Jet's own laser-repeater), he dove off the table. In the proud tradition of gangster-movies, he toppled the table itself in the movement, creating something resembling cover for himself.
Sadly, the punchbowl landed on the other end of the table, shattering on impact and spilling its content.
Jet leaned over the fallen table to reach his freed repeater. His attempt earned him a glass shard in his thumb, and a few scorched feathers, as the impacts of enemy lasers came closer once again.
Still cursing like a sailor (well, to be exact, like a ITC-Operator) he withdrew behind the table empty handed, leaning his back against it as more and more lasers slowly turned the table into swiss cheese.
Yoo-nit then spotted the bird person and captain lady that had been interacting with the other beings. Not knowing what else to do, Yoo-nit rolled toward them. Suddenly, there was gunfire and multiple beings through their arms, appendages or whatever body part(s) would be the equivalent thereof. Others laid facedown on the ground or went into their shells if they had them.
"Danger," The little droid announced stating the obvious as the red light on its head began to flash.
As it zoomed toward the pair, a table was over turned and a punchbowl hit the floor and shattered. Yoo-nit rolled over to it and tilted its eyes toward the large, red puddle. "Error... error...error," Yoo-nit announced, the red light on its head became blinking.
This attracted the attention of some of the uninvited guests who had rudely barged in. They seemed highly agitated or just wanted an excuse to shoot at something. While their motive was unclear, some of the gunfire, perhaps coincidentally or as a result of the little robot, decided to change direction and toward the makeshift cover Jet had created which inconveniently meant he was also now being shot at.
Yoo-nit made a series of whirrs and beeps as it processed this sudden change in events. A moment later, a small metal flag bobbed up and down on its shoulder. Lights all over the little droid flashed, and just as one of the intruders charged toward the table, the droid's exhaust port belched a rather large cloud of white smoke, blinding the even larger intruder. "Um...," Yoo-nit said as it rolled over to the Kenku as its visual sensors settled on him.
"Danger," The little droid announced stating the obvious as the red light on its head began to flash.
As it zoomed toward the pair, a table was over turned and a punchbowl hit the floor and shattered. Yoo-nit rolled over to it and tilted its eyes toward the large, red puddle. "Error... error...error," Yoo-nit announced, the red light on its head became blinking.
This attracted the attention of some of the uninvited guests who had rudely barged in. They seemed highly agitated or just wanted an excuse to shoot at something. While their motive was unclear, some of the gunfire, perhaps coincidentally or as a result of the little robot, decided to change direction and toward the makeshift cover Jet had created which inconveniently meant he was also now being shot at.
Yoo-nit made a series of whirrs and beeps as it processed this sudden change in events. A moment later, a small metal flag bobbed up and down on its shoulder. Lights all over the little droid flashed, and just as one of the intruders charged toward the table, the droid's exhaust port belched a rather large cloud of white smoke, blinding the even larger intruder. "Um...," Yoo-nit said as it rolled over to the Kenku as its visual sensors settled on him.
Hanley had dodged the worst of it, but when she saw people(?) continue coming through the doors and ceiling tiles with guns, she frowned harder and started reassessing the situation. Perhaps this was a bigger organization than she'd initially thought, in the panicked scenarios running through her mind. DON'T Panic, don't panic. She thought, looking from side to side.
The friendly (probably) robot rolled across the floor, almost sinister in its silent movement, compared to the chaos and intensity of the bad guys (probably) coming in with such violence. What is their intent? She would have to find out, or just get out of here. I could see if these others need help... And we could evacuate the whole building. Or find a way to give some runners a fair chance... Kralnik. She swore. Much as she wanted to make a fair escape herself, her principles dictated otherwise: besides the Federation's Directive, she also had a personal and professional compunction to save lives. The Federation's opinions on justice and fairness, or the right thing to do, were often conflicting of each other and different from her own; but when it came to her personal choices, if she had the chance to prevent destruction of lives, she would much rather not save her own tail and run away, unless there was a caveat; and when it came to her job, she would staunchly defend that she was (and sometimes other sentients were, alongside her) faced with choices that rendered the path of purely selfish safety or cowardice impassable. If she lost an eye or an arm, so be it. The children and weak sentients, and others she felt a need to protect, would be saved.
She rolled past the steamy dust-cloud, and came face-to-face with a rolling canape tray and an outlet full of wires. The panel looked almost big enough to comfortably climb into.
She hesitated, then squeezed in.
She had no idea if the newcomers who looked willing to fight and solve would actually help her or communicate properly; while she had a duty to assess first if she was to take command of the situation, she couldn't be much help from next to a table being filled with holes. She'd do something else first, and see if she couldn't take out the lights. Maybe they could see in the dark as well as she and her multispec glasses could. And hopefully, they wouldn't blow up the building while she worked.
Teamwork, she felt, was secondary to speed.
The friendly (probably) robot rolled across the floor, almost sinister in its silent movement, compared to the chaos and intensity of the bad guys (probably) coming in with such violence. What is their intent? She would have to find out, or just get out of here. I could see if these others need help... And we could evacuate the whole building. Or find a way to give some runners a fair chance... Kralnik. She swore. Much as she wanted to make a fair escape herself, her principles dictated otherwise: besides the Federation's Directive, she also had a personal and professional compunction to save lives. The Federation's opinions on justice and fairness, or the right thing to do, were often conflicting of each other and different from her own; but when it came to her personal choices, if she had the chance to prevent destruction of lives, she would much rather not save her own tail and run away, unless there was a caveat; and when it came to her job, she would staunchly defend that she was (and sometimes other sentients were, alongside her) faced with choices that rendered the path of purely selfish safety or cowardice impassable. If she lost an eye or an arm, so be it. The children and weak sentients, and others she felt a need to protect, would be saved.
She rolled past the steamy dust-cloud, and came face-to-face with a rolling canape tray and an outlet full of wires. The panel looked almost big enough to comfortably climb into.
She hesitated, then squeezed in.
She had no idea if the newcomers who looked willing to fight and solve would actually help her or communicate properly; while she had a duty to assess first if she was to take command of the situation, she couldn't be much help from next to a table being filled with holes. She'd do something else first, and see if she couldn't take out the lights. Maybe they could see in the dark as well as she and her multispec glasses could. And hopefully, they wouldn't blow up the building while she worked.
Teamwork, she felt, was secondary to speed.
(Hope I'm not posting out of turn, I only realized the Operator might be next in line when I was done writing, and I didn't want it to go to waste! 
)
Jet formed a finger-gun, then he leaned over the table. His beak supplied the absolutely realistic and quite loud sound of a heavy machine gun, as he swung his finger across the attackers.
With all the smoke and quick motions, it was hard to make out that his hands where empty,.
Natural selection was notable unkind to people that didn't react to sounds and vague, blurry motions during a firefight, and so, following Darwin's commands, some of the silhouetted hit the deck to doge an imaginary barrage of bullets.
Satisfied, Jet got his own limbs in cover again, and not a second too early - his little stunt had made him the prime target once again. A lot of lasers came his way.
Without thinking too much, Jet grabbed Yoo-nit and pulled the robot to the ground as he let himself fall. Above the two, the table quickly became holey-er than the pope.
Lying on the floor, Jet pulled out his everflaming knife. A small energy beam, waving like a flame sprung to life from the handle. It was an elegant weapon, for a more civilized age – an age where people stabbed each other to death face to face, like civilized people, instead of unelegantly shooting each other from a distance like barbarians.
The Kenku gave the knife an unhappy look. This was usually the kind of firefight he would approach with a spaceship, grenades or at least with as much weapons as he had hands.
Yet another laser beam came inches within making his last wish a reality by subtracting one of his hand hand from his equation.
After yet another Operator-curse, Jet looked at Yoo-nit.
"Hey, Ray! The gun!" he (well, Bruce Willis) announced. "Give me the gun. The gun. The gun!"
He pointed at the robot, then in the direction where he had last seen his own blaster.
"We" - he pointed at himself - "take these flare guns" - he shook the everflaming knife for emphasis - "and do something really stupid." This time he pointed towards the other part of the table. He paused for a moment. Then he pointed towards the robot. "Gun." towards himself. "A diversion."
Having run out of movie quotes, the Kenku crawled towards the side of the table that was as removed from his gun as possible, still thinking about what could draw attention to himself and away from Yoo-nit.
)Jet formed a finger-gun, then he leaned over the table. His beak supplied the absolutely realistic and quite loud sound of a heavy machine gun, as he swung his finger across the attackers.
With all the smoke and quick motions, it was hard to make out that his hands where empty,.
Natural selection was notable unkind to people that didn't react to sounds and vague, blurry motions during a firefight, and so, following Darwin's commands, some of the silhouetted hit the deck to doge an imaginary barrage of bullets.
Satisfied, Jet got his own limbs in cover again, and not a second too early - his little stunt had made him the prime target once again. A lot of lasers came his way.
Without thinking too much, Jet grabbed Yoo-nit and pulled the robot to the ground as he let himself fall. Above the two, the table quickly became holey-er than the pope.
Lying on the floor, Jet pulled out his everflaming knife. A small energy beam, waving like a flame sprung to life from the handle. It was an elegant weapon, for a more civilized age – an age where people stabbed each other to death face to face, like civilized people, instead of unelegantly shooting each other from a distance like barbarians.
The Kenku gave the knife an unhappy look. This was usually the kind of firefight he would approach with a spaceship, grenades or at least with as much weapons as he had hands.
Yet another laser beam came inches within making his last wish a reality by subtracting one of his hand hand from his equation.
After yet another Operator-curse, Jet looked at Yoo-nit.
"Hey, Ray! The gun!" he (well, Bruce Willis) announced. "Give me the gun. The gun. The gun!"
He pointed at the robot, then in the direction where he had last seen his own blaster.
"We" - he pointed at himself - "take these flare guns" - he shook the everflaming knife for emphasis - "and do something really stupid." This time he pointed towards the other part of the table. He paused for a moment. Then he pointed towards the robot. "Gun." towards himself. "A diversion."
Having run out of movie quotes, the Kenku crawled towards the side of the table that was as removed from his gun as possible, still thinking about what could draw attention to himself and away from Yoo-nit.
OOC: @Jet- nope. You're good!
Yoo-nit fixed its eyes on the Kenku, staring at him unmoving as he went through his quotes and pantomimes. There was an awkward pause for a moment.
"Um...," The little robot said in a deep monotone voice and slowly panned its eyes right to left and up and down as if there were no sense of urgency or reason to panic.
Just then, another very large explosion occurred near the entrance. There was some deep breathing and a very short being wearing an oversized black helmet entered the room as the smoke began to slowly clear.
"Where is Beeblebrox," The helmeted individual demanded in a comically high pitched voice. Suddenly, the room fell silent and the shooting and blowing up paused.
A purple skinned bipedal alien laughed when the helmeted man spoke. When the dark clad figure turned its direction, the snickering suddenly stopped. The being in the helmet walked up to the alien, who towered over his tiny stature.
"I'm sorry. Is there something funny," The helmeted one demanded.
"Uh, huh? What? No! Nothing," the purple-skinned being replied.
"Really? I am pretty sure that I heard laughing," the being in the helmet scoffed. He turned to a Cheeta-like woman. "Did you hear laughing?"
She nodded quickly and he turned back to the accused.
"She heard laughing. So I was not, indeed, mistaken then," The horizontally challenged figure under the helmet continued. "Tell me, am I like a clown? Do I amuse you?"
The purple alien shook its head furiously.
"Really? And how do you know that," he demanded.
"Uh, I... I don't... know..." the being answered nervously looking around.
"A space duck walks into a bar. A mok yells "Duck!" so the duck yells "Mok!" the helmeted one said.
There was no reaction. Suddenly, the being in the helmet pulled a blaster and shot the purple skinned being who promptly found the ground rapidly approaching his face. It might have hurt had the blaster not put a very large hole elsewhere in his body causing lots of liquids, organs and and other things he really needed to fall out.
"Now that was funny," he stated flatly. There was still no reaction. "Well... laugh," the helmeted one demanded.
The room suddenly erupted into laughter.
Meanwhile, Yoo-nit, Jet and Hanley are on the opposite side of the room and no one is paying much attention to them. A bunch of very built henchmen with heads that might be described as Rhinos carrying really big shooty things that looked like they would hurt... a lot. It was important to note these were not to be confused with Rhions on a planet like Earth. They were more of the variety of those found on Zandu XII, and should be noted they looked like the more friendly of the two species of that planet.
"So, who is in charge here," The helmeted being demanded, "and what does a guy have to do to get a drink around here?"
Yoo-nit fixed its eyes on the Kenku, staring at him unmoving as he went through his quotes and pantomimes. There was an awkward pause for a moment.
"Um...," The little robot said in a deep monotone voice and slowly panned its eyes right to left and up and down as if there were no sense of urgency or reason to panic.
Just then, another very large explosion occurred near the entrance. There was some deep breathing and a very short being wearing an oversized black helmet entered the room as the smoke began to slowly clear.
"Where is Beeblebrox," The helmeted individual demanded in a comically high pitched voice. Suddenly, the room fell silent and the shooting and blowing up paused.
A purple skinned bipedal alien laughed when the helmeted man spoke. When the dark clad figure turned its direction, the snickering suddenly stopped. The being in the helmet walked up to the alien, who towered over his tiny stature.
"I'm sorry. Is there something funny," The helmeted one demanded.
"Uh, huh? What? No! Nothing," the purple-skinned being replied.
"Really? I am pretty sure that I heard laughing," the being in the helmet scoffed. He turned to a Cheeta-like woman. "Did you hear laughing?"
She nodded quickly and he turned back to the accused.
"She heard laughing. So I was not, indeed, mistaken then," The horizontally challenged figure under the helmet continued. "Tell me, am I like a clown? Do I amuse you?"
The purple alien shook its head furiously.
"Really? And how do you know that," he demanded.
"Uh, I... I don't... know..." the being answered nervously looking around.
"A space duck walks into a bar. A mok yells "Duck!" so the duck yells "Mok!" the helmeted one said.
There was no reaction. Suddenly, the being in the helmet pulled a blaster and shot the purple skinned being who promptly found the ground rapidly approaching his face. It might have hurt had the blaster not put a very large hole elsewhere in his body causing lots of liquids, organs and and other things he really needed to fall out.
"Now that was funny," he stated flatly. There was still no reaction. "Well... laugh," the helmeted one demanded.
The room suddenly erupted into laughter.
Meanwhile, Yoo-nit, Jet and Hanley are on the opposite side of the room and no one is paying much attention to them. A bunch of very built henchmen with heads that might be described as Rhinos carrying really big shooty things that looked like they would hurt... a lot. It was important to note these were not to be confused with Rhions on a planet like Earth. They were more of the variety of those found on Zandu XII, and should be noted they looked like the more friendly of the two species of that planet.
"So, who is in charge here," The helmeted being demanded, "and what does a guy have to do to get a drink around here?"
All eyes suddenly shifted to the blue alien in a suit who had been talking to the woman in the blinking dress shortly before an unknown Earthling approached her just before the short being in the helmet asked the question.
"What? Why is everyone looking at me? Oh! You think I'm in charge," The suit said followed by a slightly uncomfortable chuckle. "What was the question again? Beelebox? I barely know the guy!"
The helmeted being with the annoying high pitched voiced stormed up to the blue alien. "Are you in charge," helmet demanded again.
"Oh galaxies no! I'm just a.... a... event planner! Yeah! You know, sub contractor.," the suit pleaded. "Uh, Beeblebrox was a no show! We're uh, not sure where.... he, um... is!"
Helmet pressed the blaster right between the aliens large, black eyes. Just then, some formal sounding music began to play. It definitely sounded like intro music, but not nearly as hip as John Shaft's theme or Axl F, the theme for Beverly Hills Space Cop. In fact, it might be compared to more of the type of song one might here in Space Looney Tunes or even Benny Hill. It was in a key few beings could even process with a difficult time signature that only someone who was a serious student of music studies on Astra II might be able to comprehend, much less appreciate.
A moment later, a very tall humanoid woman who could best be described as Jessica Rabbit and Carmen San Diego thrown into a blender having an extremely bad hair day strode in. "Little brother, what is it you think you are doing," The newcomer demanded.
"Aw, sis, can't I have any fun? I was just trying to determine where our objective... er Mr. Beeblebrox is," Helmet whined, sounding like a spoiled 220 something year old from the planet Yuko.
"I am Lady von Böse," The woman announced. "If Zaphod Beeblebrox is not here, we have a problem. We were here to collect someone of value. I understand that you are... just an event planning subcontractor and definitely NOT Xizz Xazz, CEO of ITC. Is that correct?"
"Definitely not! Never heard of them," the suit confirmed nervously.
"What a pity! We shall have to terminate your life out of mere boredom then, followed by the others in this room," Lady von Böse stated bluntly.
"Wait! Don't do that! We do have someone of great importance here! In fact, she's in charge! She may even be as valuable as Beeblebrox himself! Definitely more loved and respected across the galazy for sure," The suit assured the leader of the very rude uninvited people who at this point had definitely ruined the party and were causing the space icecream in the back to melt since it was now sitting out and not getting served.
"Who then, is this individual," Lady von Böse asked calmly.
"Her! It's her," The suit blurted out, pointing at the woman in the blinking dress who appeared to slowly be making her way to the back of the room unnoticed but utterly failing in her attempt.
"What? Why is everyone looking at me? Oh! You think I'm in charge," The suit said followed by a slightly uncomfortable chuckle. "What was the question again? Beelebox? I barely know the guy!"
The helmeted being with the annoying high pitched voiced stormed up to the blue alien. "Are you in charge," helmet demanded again.
"Oh galaxies no! I'm just a.... a... event planner! Yeah! You know, sub contractor.," the suit pleaded. "Uh, Beeblebrox was a no show! We're uh, not sure where.... he, um... is!"
Helmet pressed the blaster right between the aliens large, black eyes. Just then, some formal sounding music began to play. It definitely sounded like intro music, but not nearly as hip as John Shaft's theme or Axl F, the theme for Beverly Hills Space Cop. In fact, it might be compared to more of the type of song one might here in Space Looney Tunes or even Benny Hill. It was in a key few beings could even process with a difficult time signature that only someone who was a serious student of music studies on Astra II might be able to comprehend, much less appreciate.
A moment later, a very tall humanoid woman who could best be described as Jessica Rabbit and Carmen San Diego thrown into a blender having an extremely bad hair day strode in. "Little brother, what is it you think you are doing," The newcomer demanded.
"Aw, sis, can't I have any fun? I was just trying to determine where our objective... er Mr. Beeblebrox is," Helmet whined, sounding like a spoiled 220 something year old from the planet Yuko.
"I am Lady von Böse," The woman announced. "If Zaphod Beeblebrox is not here, we have a problem. We were here to collect someone of value. I understand that you are... just an event planning subcontractor and definitely NOT Xizz Xazz, CEO of ITC. Is that correct?"
"Definitely not! Never heard of them," the suit confirmed nervously.
"What a pity! We shall have to terminate your life out of mere boredom then, followed by the others in this room," Lady von Böse stated bluntly.
"Wait! Don't do that! We do have someone of great importance here! In fact, she's in charge! She may even be as valuable as Beeblebrox himself! Definitely more loved and respected across the galazy for sure," The suit assured the leader of the very rude uninvited people who at this point had definitely ruined the party and were causing the space icecream in the back to melt since it was now sitting out and not getting served.
"Who then, is this individual," Lady von Böse asked calmly.
"Her! It's her," The suit blurted out, pointing at the woman in the blinking dress who appeared to slowly be making her way to the back of the room unnoticed but utterly failing in her attempt.
"You there," Lady von Böse yelled pointing at the woman in the flashing dress who immediately froze in place but spun around to face the one that had called out to her.
"Me, love," The Operator asked innocently.
"You, love," Lady von Böse replied. "And where did you think you were going?"
"Oh, nowhere in particular. It seems this whole thing was a bust so I was going to change back into me work uniform and get back to me space repair van fixing space phones," The Operator answered with a casual shrug.
"You're her," Lady von Böse stated bluntly.
"I'm who? I'm no one special, love. Just a workin' girl flying around in her space van trying to make her way in the universe..."
Lady von Böse pulled out a mobile space phone and punched in a number and held it up and put it on speaker for the entire room to hear: "Find yourself disconnected, love? Call ITC repair service at #611. Intergalactic time 27:19, temperature 202 standard units..."
"That's you," Lady von Böse accused the woman in the flashing dress.
"Don't be silly, love! That's a recording," The Operator argued.
"Of your voice! She's the galactic time and temperature lady! Seize her," the newcomer demanded.
A few rhino-like aliens surrounded The Operator who raised her hands meekly. "Alright. Alright, no need to make a fuss," The Operator insisted. "Uh, if you're holding me for ransom, he can pay it. He's the CEO." The Operator pointed at the blue alien in the suit.
"Then take him, too," Lady von Böse commanded. The pair were ushered away. She then turned to the black helmeted figure.
"So, little bro, I have things to take care of now that we have two valuable hostages to ransom," Lady von Böse informed him.
"Awww! That's no fair," Helmet whined. "What am I going to do?"
"Why don't you secure these people, lock the building down and make sure no one escapes," she suggested.
"But, you have the hostages! Why do we need these people," he asked.
"I don't care what you do. Kill them, blow the building up, hold them all for ransom, too. Just make sure none of them leave or call the space police until we're safely away," Lady von Böse instructed.
Meanwhile, all eyes and other organs were on the leaders of the disruption. The Operator and CEO of ITC were out of sight and a moment later, Lady von Böse turned and exited with another squad of rhino goons.
So far, Yoonit, Jet and Hanley still had not been noticed and anyone shooting at the table the first two had been hiding behind had clearly lost interest since the table had reached its quota for holes during the attack.
This concludes the pre-credit scene which leads us to the start of...
Chapter 1: The Hitchhiker's Guide to Dying Hard
"Me, love," The Operator asked innocently.
"You, love," Lady von Böse replied. "And where did you think you were going?"
"Oh, nowhere in particular. It seems this whole thing was a bust so I was going to change back into me work uniform and get back to me space repair van fixing space phones," The Operator answered with a casual shrug.
"You're her," Lady von Böse stated bluntly.
"I'm who? I'm no one special, love. Just a workin' girl flying around in her space van trying to make her way in the universe..."
Lady von Böse pulled out a mobile space phone and punched in a number and held it up and put it on speaker for the entire room to hear: "Find yourself disconnected, love? Call ITC repair service at #611. Intergalactic time 27:19, temperature 202 standard units..."
"That's you," Lady von Böse accused the woman in the flashing dress.
"Don't be silly, love! That's a recording," The Operator argued.
"Of your voice! She's the galactic time and temperature lady! Seize her," the newcomer demanded.
A few rhino-like aliens surrounded The Operator who raised her hands meekly. "Alright. Alright, no need to make a fuss," The Operator insisted. "Uh, if you're holding me for ransom, he can pay it. He's the CEO." The Operator pointed at the blue alien in the suit.
"Then take him, too," Lady von Böse commanded. The pair were ushered away. She then turned to the black helmeted figure.
"So, little bro, I have things to take care of now that we have two valuable hostages to ransom," Lady von Böse informed him.
"Awww! That's no fair," Helmet whined. "What am I going to do?"
"Why don't you secure these people, lock the building down and make sure no one escapes," she suggested.
"But, you have the hostages! Why do we need these people," he asked.
"I don't care what you do. Kill them, blow the building up, hold them all for ransom, too. Just make sure none of them leave or call the space police until we're safely away," Lady von Böse instructed.
Meanwhile, all eyes and other organs were on the leaders of the disruption. The Operator and CEO of ITC were out of sight and a moment later, Lady von Böse turned and exited with another squad of rhino goons.
So far, Yoonit, Jet and Hanley still had not been noticed and anyone shooting at the table the first two had been hiding behind had clearly lost interest since the table had reached its quota for holes during the attack.
This concludes the pre-credit scene which leads us to the start of...
Chapter 1: The Hitchhiker's Guide to Dying Hard
((OOC: to be honest with you I forgot this existed for the past day as I'm frantically writing for my zine application. Will edit with response in the morning, thanks for your patience. 
I promise I'll be excited. When I can think to. Peace!))
((💀))
During the eventful last several minutes of arrivals, introductions, and accusations, Hanley had been busily (and nervously) working on hotwiring the lighting and electrical system.
"This stuff always works so fast on the television shows," she grumbled quietly, and jammed her comms button a few more times in hopes it would pick up something.
With some of the room's rebellion (or were they the victims of a different rebellion? Did both count?) in hand by the explosive perpetrators, Hanley squeezed her eyes shut and flicked an emergency lock switch.
The hotwiring has done its job and the klaxons blasted around the corners of the room (all but one, which was busted). The emergency redlights turned on and the whole room was bathed in a ghastly orange glow. Hanley fist pumped.
"The emergency gravity shutoff will activate in seven minutes," announced a pleasant robot voice. Hanley frowned largely. She hadn't meant for that to happen.
"Please help yourself to the nearest handrail panel. Going up! In T-minus 6 minutes, 40 seconds. 39. 38..." Hanley scrabbled at the access panel in a panic. Then she stopped, because she was panicking. Not supposed to do that, nonono.
She looked around for that resourceful-looking bird lifeform from earlier... Or the little droid... Maybe at least one of them could come up with a plan on short notice. The only problem would be signalling them now that the lights were out and the room was full of invaders.
She pulled out her flashlight, grimaced, and clicked it twice in rapid succession. Surely the robot would see it, even if he was confused.... Actually, she wasn't really sure of the gender of the robot.
It hadn't stated preferred pronouns. This probably wasn't the time to be thinking about that, but it was one of those things that was hard to get out of her mind.
I promise I'll be excited. When I can think to. Peace!))((💀))
During the eventful last several minutes of arrivals, introductions, and accusations, Hanley had been busily (and nervously) working on hotwiring the lighting and electrical system.
"This stuff always works so fast on the television shows," she grumbled quietly, and jammed her comms button a few more times in hopes it would pick up something.
With some of the room's rebellion (or were they the victims of a different rebellion? Did both count?) in hand by the explosive perpetrators, Hanley squeezed her eyes shut and flicked an emergency lock switch.
The hotwiring has done its job and the klaxons blasted around the corners of the room (all but one, which was busted). The emergency redlights turned on and the whole room was bathed in a ghastly orange glow. Hanley fist pumped.
"The emergency gravity shutoff will activate in seven minutes," announced a pleasant robot voice. Hanley frowned largely. She hadn't meant for that to happen.
"Please help yourself to the nearest handrail panel. Going up! In T-minus 6 minutes, 40 seconds. 39. 38..." Hanley scrabbled at the access panel in a panic. Then she stopped, because she was panicking. Not supposed to do that, nonono.
She looked around for that resourceful-looking bird lifeform from earlier... Or the little droid... Maybe at least one of them could come up with a plan on short notice. The only problem would be signalling them now that the lights were out and the room was full of invaders.
She pulled out her flashlight, grimaced, and clicked it twice in rapid succession. Surely the robot would see it, even if he was confused.... Actually, she wasn't really sure of the gender of the robot.
It hadn't stated preferred pronouns. This probably wasn't the time to be thinking about that, but it was one of those things that was hard to get out of her mind.
There was one person in the whole multiverse who enjoyed Lord Helmet's joke, and that person happened to be present.
"Mok!" he repeated quiet but happy towards Yoo-nit. Of course he wasn't stupid enough to actually be loud let out a loud hah! as the room was silent.
He, however wasn't above supplying the cricket-sounds to fill the uncomfortable silence. Luckily, most people and aliens weren't that good at pinpointing the source of a sound, and not many people knew what Kenku actually did, so no one placed him down as the culprit.
Jet suppressed his instinct to draw all the attention to himself once more. The many new holes that now decorated the table were still smoking after all, so even his bird-brain remembered why it was a bad idea. Instead, he used the silence to quickly crawl around the table and recover his repeater.
The manual had put a lot of emphasis of not letting the weapon never ever came in contact with water, but luckily, it said nothing about punch. Jet crawled back behind his cover and started shaking his weapon, so the red drink poured out.
Then, after a moment, he decided to make sure the lens of the weapon was clear, and so he put it in his beak and licked off any punch that might remain.
It was a picture that could easily land in any weapon or army-manual with the caption "Never, ever do this!"
Luckily, he didn't blew off his own head as the klaxons made him jerk, in part because the weapon just wasn't dry enough to actually work. Instead he lost the weapon again, and quickly picked it up from the ground.
Kenku really liked shiny things, so Hanley's flashlight easily caught his attention. He gave her a little wave, then looked around, while his brain tried to come up with a plan.
Build a galaxy-destroying device and steal the Tardis when the doctor comes to save the day? He lacked the skills with demolitions.
Fight all the rhinos and heroically rescue the Operator to ride off with her in the sunset? He lacked the horse.
Search for an, well, 'deserted' ship and leave the place that way? He was good at hotwiring and piloting, so he decided to go with that plan for now! He fell down to the floor and started crawling towards Hanley, making sure Yoo-nit could keep up with him.
"Mok!" he repeated quiet but happy towards Yoo-nit. Of course he wasn't stupid enough to actually be loud let out a loud hah! as the room was silent.
He, however wasn't above supplying the cricket-sounds to fill the uncomfortable silence. Luckily, most people and aliens weren't that good at pinpointing the source of a sound, and not many people knew what Kenku actually did, so no one placed him down as the culprit.
Jet suppressed his instinct to draw all the attention to himself once more. The many new holes that now decorated the table were still smoking after all, so even his bird-brain remembered why it was a bad idea. Instead, he used the silence to quickly crawl around the table and recover his repeater.
The manual had put a lot of emphasis of not letting the weapon never ever came in contact with water, but luckily, it said nothing about punch. Jet crawled back behind his cover and started shaking his weapon, so the red drink poured out.
Then, after a moment, he decided to make sure the lens of the weapon was clear, and so he put it in his beak and licked off any punch that might remain.
It was a picture that could easily land in any weapon or army-manual with the caption "Never, ever do this!"
Luckily, he didn't blew off his own head as the klaxons made him jerk, in part because the weapon just wasn't dry enough to actually work. Instead he lost the weapon again, and quickly picked it up from the ground.
Kenku really liked shiny things, so Hanley's flashlight easily caught his attention. He gave her a little wave, then looked around, while his brain tried to come up with a plan.
Build a galaxy-destroying device and steal the Tardis when the doctor comes to save the day? He lacked the skills with demolitions.
Fight all the rhinos and heroically rescue the Operator to ride off with her in the sunset? He lacked the horse.
Search for an, well, 'deserted' ship and leave the place that way? He was good at hotwiring and piloting, so he decided to go with that plan for now! He fell down to the floor and started crawling towards Hanley, making sure Yoo-nit could keep up with him.
The little droid focused its visual sensors on the kenku as he tried to clean his now soaked blaster. A flashing suddenly drew the bots attention in a different direction. The human woman who appeared to be some sort of star fleet officer was flashing a light. It appeared to be a signal. Yoo-nit shifted its oversized eyes toward the blinking.
Suddenly, the red light atop its eye stalk began flashing, too. As Jet began crawling toward the blinking signal, Yoo-nit suddenly zoomed past and came right to Hanley, not understanding the concept of being covert or subtle. Fortunately, with a kidnapping and escape in progress across the room and everyone suddenly becoming distracted by the series of warnings and sirens that were now going off, no one seemed to pay much attention to Jet and Yoonit.
This was convenient as no one tried to kill or destroy either. It was also possible that the previous mentioned things were a higher priority to those in the room or maybe even slightly more interesting. Regardless, the pair made it to Hanley undetected and unnoticed.
Suddenly, the red light atop its eye stalk began flashing, too. As Jet began crawling toward the blinking signal, Yoo-nit suddenly zoomed past and came right to Hanley, not understanding the concept of being covert or subtle. Fortunately, with a kidnapping and escape in progress across the room and everyone suddenly becoming distracted by the series of warnings and sirens that were now going off, no one seemed to pay much attention to Jet and Yoonit.
This was convenient as no one tried to kill or destroy either. It was also possible that the previous mentioned things were a higher priority to those in the room or maybe even slightly more interesting. Regardless, the pair made it to Hanley undetected and unnoticed.
Jet looked like a cat that just had pushed something off a ledge, as the droid zoomed by. Suddenly, he jumped to his feet to run after it.
It took all of his willpower to do so rather silently, and not add a racecar-sound to his running.
He had his repeater at the ready, so he could gun down anyone in his way, or, more likely, suddenly have a melting, exploding, imploding, sparking or otherwise malfunctioning, wet weapon in his hand once he pulled the trigger.
Who knew that weapons could be dangerous?
Luckily, no attacker had the wits to make Jet's life even more interesting, and so he came to a halt close to Hanley, he gesticulated towards the door the operator had exited.
Then he started speaking in a calm, threatening voice: "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom I can tell you I don't have money, but what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my…"
He suddenly interrupted himself, to add a quote of Lady von Böse. It almost felt like a really bad insert into an audio tape: "…galactic time and temperature lady…"
The calm voice returned: "…go now that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you, but if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you."
Since he had kept his voice low enough so only Yoo-nit and Hanley could hear him, it was more a declaration of intents than a threat.
It took all of his willpower to do so rather silently, and not add a racecar-sound to his running.
He had his repeater at the ready, so he could gun down anyone in his way, or, more likely, suddenly have a melting, exploding, imploding, sparking or otherwise malfunctioning, wet weapon in his hand once he pulled the trigger.
Who knew that weapons could be dangerous?
Luckily, no attacker had the wits to make Jet's life even more interesting, and so he came to a halt close to Hanley, he gesticulated towards the door the operator had exited.
Then he started speaking in a calm, threatening voice: "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom I can tell you I don't have money, but what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my…"
He suddenly interrupted himself, to add a quote of Lady von Böse. It almost felt like a really bad insert into an audio tape: "…galactic time and temperature lady…"
The calm voice returned: "…go now that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you, but if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you."
Since he had kept his voice low enough so only Yoo-nit and Hanley could hear him, it was more a declaration of intents than a threat.
There were several minutes of complete chaos. The little droid just stared blankly between its new found companions. The alarm continued to blare. "The emergency gravity shutoff will activate in one minute..."
"Um...," Yoo-nit said. The rather rude rhino people were not letting people and beings leave, which is of course, is what beings instinctively try to do when they can't do something. Instead, they ran about in panic as if that would somehow allow them to leave even though the exits were all sealed off. Unfortunately, this strategy did not seem to be working for any of them.
Just then there was a click and those who had been running around suddenly found themselves floating upward, much like the way a Frogarian lawyer doesn't when its three feet have been encased in space cement and it finds itself at the bottom of an ocean.
"Um," Yoo-nit repeated looking around with its visual sensors. The little droid was confused, but lacking facial features or a way to visually express its confusion, that emotion might not be clear to any being that happened to be observing it as its eye receptors and the red light on its head came ever closer to the ceiling above it and the floor got further from its wheels.
"Um...," Yoo-nit said. The rather rude rhino people were not letting people and beings leave, which is of course, is what beings instinctively try to do when they can't do something. Instead, they ran about in panic as if that would somehow allow them to leave even though the exits were all sealed off. Unfortunately, this strategy did not seem to be working for any of them.
Just then there was a click and those who had been running around suddenly found themselves floating upward, much like the way a Frogarian lawyer doesn't when its three feet have been encased in space cement and it finds itself at the bottom of an ocean.
"Um," Yoo-nit repeated looking around with its visual sensors. The little droid was confused, but lacking facial features or a way to visually express its confusion, that emotion might not be clear to any being that happened to be observing it as its eye receptors and the red light on its head came ever closer to the ceiling above it and the floor got further from its wheels.
The one gift kenkukind had been denied was flight, but their bodies and birdbrains remembered. And as the ground got unsteady and Jet became as light as a feather, he accessed that genetic memory.
He grabbed the confused droid and pushed himself off the ground. Majestic, he rose through the air, pinwheeling slowly on the way up.
As a bird of culture[citation very much needed], he started to recite the Blue Danube Waltz by… the guy probably was named Johann when in doubt every classical composer was called Johann.
Jet lacked a degree from the flight university, but right now he moved as if he had all six degrees of freedom, moving from the floor to the ceiling with only a short stop at one of the walls to lift himself off once again.
The bars of the air-duct stopped his impression of a rising angel, and made him just an ordinary bird brain again. He held onto it with his foot-claws, as he used his arm that wasn't preoccupied by a Yoo-nit to produce a long, cylindrical metal thing.
Sadly, he hadn't been close enough to the Doctor long enough to nick his sonic screwdriver, so it was just his everflamming dagger again. The short beam of the blade came to life once more, and the next minute he was happily slashing at the bars, using Yoo-nit as cover against the glowing, liquid metal raining down. He acted in blisfull ignorance of the rhino-grunts that had noticed him.
One elbowed the other and pointed at the Kenku, then two rifles took aim…
He grabbed the confused droid and pushed himself off the ground. Majestic, he rose through the air, pinwheeling slowly on the way up.
As a bird of culture[citation very much needed], he started to recite the Blue Danube Waltz by… the guy probably was named Johann when in doubt every classical composer was called Johann.
Jet lacked a degree from the flight university, but right now he moved as if he had all six degrees of freedom, moving from the floor to the ceiling with only a short stop at one of the walls to lift himself off once again.
The bars of the air-duct stopped his impression of a rising angel, and made him just an ordinary bird brain again. He held onto it with his foot-claws, as he used his arm that wasn't preoccupied by a Yoo-nit to produce a long, cylindrical metal thing.
Sadly, he hadn't been close enough to the Doctor long enough to nick his sonic screwdriver, so it was just his everflamming dagger again. The short beam of the blade came to life once more, and the next minute he was happily slashing at the bars, using Yoo-nit as cover against the glowing, liquid metal raining down. He acted in blisfull ignorance of the rhino-grunts that had noticed him.
One elbowed the other and pointed at the Kenku, then two rifles took aim…
Hanley allowed herself a few frozen moments of gasping breath. Tight spaces were a little uncomfortable even for her, and social events were taxing on anybody who had put their gun away not expecting invasion, even though it had been a presidential rally, silly, really. Or was it a presidential rally? Perhaps it was a setup all along... someone really wanted to take out someone else who was here... or someone close to the president was in on a plot to assassinate or capture him, and he'd never shown up on purpose. Rude of them not to warn anybody, not even a little code, or some good security? Hanley shook her head and decided not to jump to conclusions. She'd do a little investigating later, and if he was in on it, she was not voting for Zaphod in the next election.
Hanley saw the birdman skitter over, saw Yoo-Nit and his little flashing light make their way dutifully toward her signal. Perhaps the robot was curious, perhaps he was scared, perhaps he was following orders. It was also possible he was innovative, brave, or even excited, and fully prepared to make his way through this situation. Plenty of droids could make decisions for themselves.
She saw them take flight, lifted in the breath between orange flashing lights and dusky creepy darkness, as the great unbreath of gravity unfurled, swelling through the room and overtaking them all.
Sometimes Hanley's wires felt a little rusty in between interactions - like a charge wasn't running through 'em as it was supposed to. She sat there in silence, her own rasping breath and the klaxons in the background sounding rhythmically until she became aware of her own pulse. Sweat on her face, she looked up to see the ceilings coming closer. She felt her feet off the ground, as she lifted up through the vent of the first layer of shielding metal she'd hid beneath, and she took a calming breath that rushed through her body. Equipped with everything she would need to survive, the human grappled her way across the room and bounded between metal posts and room linings, trying to find a way up. The outermost parts of the building would hold fast against space's many untimely weather outbursts of doom, or interplanetary aggression incidents... but they also had an emergency exit. Part of the building code. Someone had gone on strike, she was sure, for rules like that.
Most of the civilians, it seemed, had escaped. She now had only to find a chance to let the rest get away, and somehow stop the team of criminals from running too far loose. Trackers it was!
As she bounced uncomfortably into more metal, deplorably rusted, and swung nauseatingly through the too light atmosphere, Hanley called out.
"Bird!" She said. "Yoo-Nit!" She tossed two things, then, one down and one up.
One was a tracker, which was a small piece of metal that could roll and stick magnetically to any of the miligrade, medigrade, or other professional grade plasticine armor down there. It would also take a preliminary scan of the entire room in a 180-foot radius or more, depending on the depth perception it was set to, and feed back the information of its scope to her bit-watch. Very handy. She could only hope that it would work correctly and land on one of their guys that would be helpful to know the location of, the faction of (if he made it anywhere) and all the surroundings of, and so on and so forth. At the very least it could capture the likeness and some data of the head honcho down there, and whomever he was in cahoots with; it was only anti-gravity until it lost battery, though, so she'd really like it if those guys left soon. If they got blown up she wouldn't have the whole deal to work with, either.
The second thing she threw was a communication unit she kept for emergencies and babysitting jobs, and it led right back to her bit-watch. Essentially it was a glorified walkie-talkie, and not even that. Hopefully one of them would catch it. If she and her companions couldn't communicate, she'd had to keep getting creative with the flashlight, and she wasn't sure she could manage that. The bird was hacking away, flame in hand, with earnest and glorious abandon, the metal slag flying about and morphing slowly; the droid had no intention she could read through facial expression, and therefore looked only patient, uncomfortable, and possibly like it didn't know where it was going, but would certainly be calm when it got there.
In all honesty, she wasn't sure how much the droid could talk except what was programmed in, but going by the bird's strange movie quotes earlier, he (gender unknown? Well, they) might just have avian language and mimicry - a marvelous set of skills - or not even those. She wished her universal translator was perfectly automated. They might be able to say something she'd understand a little, but that was only if they had any kind of fluency her translator could pick up.
This reminded her of a book. The Great Glass Elevator, and all its vermicious Knids. Hanley suppressed a giggle. Smiling, she launched turbulently, slowly, and painstakingly toward the uppermost ceilings. With expert muscle control, she turned her body to go through a gap with more ease. Mind the gap, she thought wryly, and fitted her body through the hole. Good old anti-gravity. The captain almost enjoyed it, but she stayed alert too much for it to be a wholly fun experience.
Hanley saw the birdman skitter over, saw Yoo-Nit and his little flashing light make their way dutifully toward her signal. Perhaps the robot was curious, perhaps he was scared, perhaps he was following orders. It was also possible he was innovative, brave, or even excited, and fully prepared to make his way through this situation. Plenty of droids could make decisions for themselves.
She saw them take flight, lifted in the breath between orange flashing lights and dusky creepy darkness, as the great unbreath of gravity unfurled, swelling through the room and overtaking them all.
Sometimes Hanley's wires felt a little rusty in between interactions - like a charge wasn't running through 'em as it was supposed to. She sat there in silence, her own rasping breath and the klaxons in the background sounding rhythmically until she became aware of her own pulse. Sweat on her face, she looked up to see the ceilings coming closer. She felt her feet off the ground, as she lifted up through the vent of the first layer of shielding metal she'd hid beneath, and she took a calming breath that rushed through her body. Equipped with everything she would need to survive, the human grappled her way across the room and bounded between metal posts and room linings, trying to find a way up. The outermost parts of the building would hold fast against space's many untimely weather outbursts of doom, or interplanetary aggression incidents... but they also had an emergency exit. Part of the building code. Someone had gone on strike, she was sure, for rules like that.
Most of the civilians, it seemed, had escaped. She now had only to find a chance to let the rest get away, and somehow stop the team of criminals from running too far loose. Trackers it was!
As she bounced uncomfortably into more metal, deplorably rusted, and swung nauseatingly through the too light atmosphere, Hanley called out.
"Bird!" She said. "Yoo-Nit!" She tossed two things, then, one down and one up.
One was a tracker, which was a small piece of metal that could roll and stick magnetically to any of the miligrade, medigrade, or other professional grade plasticine armor down there. It would also take a preliminary scan of the entire room in a 180-foot radius or more, depending on the depth perception it was set to, and feed back the information of its scope to her bit-watch. Very handy. She could only hope that it would work correctly and land on one of their guys that would be helpful to know the location of, the faction of (if he made it anywhere) and all the surroundings of, and so on and so forth. At the very least it could capture the likeness and some data of the head honcho down there, and whomever he was in cahoots with; it was only anti-gravity until it lost battery, though, so she'd really like it if those guys left soon. If they got blown up she wouldn't have the whole deal to work with, either.
The second thing she threw was a communication unit she kept for emergencies and babysitting jobs, and it led right back to her bit-watch. Essentially it was a glorified walkie-talkie, and not even that. Hopefully one of them would catch it. If she and her companions couldn't communicate, she'd had to keep getting creative with the flashlight, and she wasn't sure she could manage that. The bird was hacking away, flame in hand, with earnest and glorious abandon, the metal slag flying about and morphing slowly; the droid had no intention she could read through facial expression, and therefore looked only patient, uncomfortable, and possibly like it didn't know where it was going, but would certainly be calm when it got there.
In all honesty, she wasn't sure how much the droid could talk except what was programmed in, but going by the bird's strange movie quotes earlier, he (gender unknown? Well, they) might just have avian language and mimicry - a marvelous set of skills - or not even those. She wished her universal translator was perfectly automated. They might be able to say something she'd understand a little, but that was only if they had any kind of fluency her translator could pick up.
This reminded her of a book. The Great Glass Elevator, and all its vermicious Knids. Hanley suppressed a giggle. Smiling, she launched turbulently, slowly, and painstakingly toward the uppermost ceilings. With expert muscle control, she turned her body to go through a gap with more ease. Mind the gap, she thought wryly, and fitted her body through the hole. Good old anti-gravity. The captain almost enjoyed it, but she stayed alert too much for it to be a wholly fun experience.
Living at the bottom of a deep gravity well on a gas-covered planet orbiting a nuclear fireball is an indication of how skewed our perspective can be which was relevant to some being in this situation. That being, was not Yoo-nit, although its perspective was definitely skewed as it drifted upward. Not having gravity was certainly inconvenient, but it allowed the small robot a chance to see things it typically did not.
The Kenku floated upward as well and began cutting at a grate once the appropriate height was reached. Unfortunately, 2 of the rhino beings took notice of the birdman and pointed their weapons at him. That might have resulted in a substantial amount of pain and possibly even death which would be even more inconvenient than not having gravity.
Luckily, at least for Jet, Yoo-nit had a thought. What that thought was was unknown to everyone but it. However, anytime the toaster-like droid ran through a series of actions anytime it processed something. Those included a series of blinking lights, dings, whirring noises and finally the red light coming on on its head. There was also a little metal flag on its shoulder that bobbed up and down right before the light bulb illuminated. The final event in this sequence is Yoo-nit then belched a copious amount of voluminous smoke that smelled of burnt toast.
The result ended up creating a make-shift smoke screen obscuring the grunt's vision and giving Jet enough time to safely cut away the access cover to get safely out of the way of any potentially painful laser beams by the time the smoke cleared.
OOC: One important point of clarification: most everyone did not escape. Some beings got out when they could. There are many hostages that are sealed in the room, however. The only ones that left were the boss lady, a squad of guards, The Operator and the CEO of ITC who were both taken hostage. We can assume that one of Hanley's trackers got on someone relevant that left in that group. Helmet is still here overseeing things.
The Kenku floated upward as well and began cutting at a grate once the appropriate height was reached. Unfortunately, 2 of the rhino beings took notice of the birdman and pointed their weapons at him. That might have resulted in a substantial amount of pain and possibly even death which would be even more inconvenient than not having gravity.
Luckily, at least for Jet, Yoo-nit had a thought. What that thought was was unknown to everyone but it. However, anytime the toaster-like droid ran through a series of actions anytime it processed something. Those included a series of blinking lights, dings, whirring noises and finally the red light coming on on its head. There was also a little metal flag on its shoulder that bobbed up and down right before the light bulb illuminated. The final event in this sequence is Yoo-nit then belched a copious amount of voluminous smoke that smelled of burnt toast.
The result ended up creating a make-shift smoke screen obscuring the grunt's vision and giving Jet enough time to safely cut away the access cover to get safely out of the way of any potentially painful laser beams by the time the smoke cleared.
OOC: One important point of clarification: most everyone did not escape. Some beings got out when they could. There are many hostages that are sealed in the room, however. The only ones that left were the boss lady, a squad of guards, The Operator and the CEO of ITC who were both taken hostage. We can assume that one of Hanley's trackers got on someone relevant that left in that group. Helmet is still here overseeing things.
Jet obliterated everything metal standing between him and the large choice of air-vent related movie quotes with childlike glee. In anything but zero-g, the bars he just freed of their metal prison would've dropped on his head, but this way they just floated away, becoming part of the other stuff that floated through the ball room.
As laser beams lightened up the cover Yoo-nit had created, making it look like a proper thunder cloud, Jet decided the way he made was big enough for him. He grabbed the living toaster/active smoke grenade called Yoo-nit and threw him into the air-vent. The motion made him fly down, and he quickly grabbed a few loose bars to throw them in the general direction of the Rhinos - not hitting anything, but catapulting himself upwards once more.
Jet handled himself worryingly well in zero-g, and even the fact that, as he just entered the hatch, a space walkie-talkie collided with his head didn't stop him, although it made him cartwheel for a bit. He shook his head, bounced off a wall, grabbed the spacey-talkie with his beak, held onto one of the remaining bars and flung himself into the air-vent.
Although there were no judges around, willing to hold up big signs with numbers, he decided to create the sound of applause for himself, before vanishing into the air-duct.
As laser beams lightened up the cover Yoo-nit had created, making it look like a proper thunder cloud, Jet decided the way he made was big enough for him. He grabbed the living toaster/active smoke grenade called Yoo-nit and threw him into the air-vent. The motion made him fly down, and he quickly grabbed a few loose bars to throw them in the general direction of the Rhinos - not hitting anything, but catapulting himself upwards once more.
Jet handled himself worryingly well in zero-g, and even the fact that, as he just entered the hatch, a space walkie-talkie collided with his head didn't stop him, although it made him cartwheel for a bit. He shook his head, bounced off a wall, grabbed the spacey-talkie with his beak, held onto one of the remaining bars and flung himself into the air-vent.
Although there were no judges around, willing to hold up big signs with numbers, he decided to create the sound of applause for himself, before vanishing into the air-duct.
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