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The kenku thought Lydia was to blame for the shots, although he had spent little brain cells on the question of how an elevator would do that.
He blinked at the alien. Well, technically, he was an alien too, at least to most of the galaxy. Given that this was a space station, probably only voidborn people could be considered native around here.

Jet dropped his repeater. He was unwilling to lose yet another weapon, and so his foot remained close to the gun, ready to do a kick-up, one legendary classic pirate trick, that basically consisted of, well, kicking the gun up and catching it.

For now, he played along with the alien.

"Space google, translate please…" he used the voice of an exhausted office worker, before repeating back the words of the alien. He still didn't seem to realize that his space google-assistant was in space trouble.

"Alright kid, let's blow this popsicle stand... badda-bing, bodda boom," The human said. "Hang on, I need some booze!"

About that time the kenku had finally gotten around to replying. At least he was still alive and wanted Yoo-nit to translate something. However, the little droid was a bit busy.

Meanwhile...

The alien in the trash can was pointing a blaster at Jet. "Voo-da Ting, lan oom! Hee hee hee," it said gleefully pointing across the corridor at the dead vending machine and the ill-fated lift repair crew. Yoo-nit did not respond to the translation request. One of the two grunts from the lift arrived, making Jet's troubles worse because they had doubled.

Things did not look good for our hero... but then, an odd whooshing noise started coming from nowhere.

Jet's eyes became slits. His pupils went from the alien towards the grunts and back, as he whistled the "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly "-theme.
Despite his poncho and his self description as a gunslinger, he probably wouldn't be able to kick up the gun and shoot three people before they pulled a trigger.
His only hope was that they weren't exactly on friendly terms, and the Rhinos insisted they were the only ones around here with blaster-privileges, starting to trouble Oscar the Grouch from space here instead of him and creating an opportunity to run.

But then he heard the swooshing sound.
He knew what that meant. The cavalry was here.
" Warblettes!" he announced excited with the voice of a red haired, metal-loving tomboy.

'Space Oscar' and the Rhino were suddenly distracted as a blue police box began to materialize. Jet realized he had his chance to make a break for it. When the doors opened, the kenku might be surprised to see the tall man with the curly brown hair, floppy hat and long scarf was not who emerged.

Instead, a sloppy looking disheveled elderly man holding a martini glass stuck his head out the door. He was dressed in a worn-out, tattered suit and had wild, buggy eyes. "Hey boid brain! I been lookin' for yas! Get in!"

He turned to the rhino and alien in the trash can. "Hey you two! I got something for yoose," the strange man said and tossed something from his other hand which landed in the rubbish container. "Toodles!"

The old man wiggled the fingers of his now free hand in a parting gesture assuming Jet jumped inside the TARDIS.

Jet kicked up the gun and caught it. Well, he involuntarily juggled it for a moment, but in essence, it didn't fall to the ground and he held it afterwards, which he counted as a win.
It just made his "a-hah!" spoken in the voice of a true swashbuckler sound a bit hollow.
For a moment Jet contemplated shooting Space Oscar and taking revenge for his short lived friend's death that way, but then again, just because the alien was in the space trash can now, it didn't mean it had been at the time of shooting.

Also, it felt wrong to use an TARDIS as distraction for murder, so Jet postponed his revenge, jumping in the TARDIS instead.

He took a quick look around.
"It is bigger!" he said in the confident voice of an advertisement announcer, that tried to sell the new and larger space snickers.
"…on the inside!" he added, straight from yet another advertisement, that explained the effects of sparkling washing-tabs.

"That's what they say kid, and yoose ain't even been drinking," The Doctor replied. Outside the police box, 'Oscar' looked down. "Ee noo noo! Uh oh," it said and leaped out of the rubbish bin as a series of flashbangs went off, igniting the creatures posterior end. It ran around in a circle in a panic. Meanwhile, the surprised grunt finally had the presence of mind to fire a shot at the blue box just as it made a whooshing noise and vanished.

The Doctor took a sip of his martini and turned back to Jet. "Don't drink and TARDIS, they says. Well I says, life is better with a little booze... and a fine Vega 11 cigar," The Doctor continued offering one to the bird person. "K9 get us out of here, we got a dame to rescue! Botta bing, Botta boom!"

That brings us through the opening sequence of our next adventure "Don't Drink and TARDIS".

The Kenku gave the Doctor a so-so gesture with his flat hand. He did enjoy the drinks he had at the party, although nothing as serious as, let's say, a pan galactic gargle blaster, as evidenced by him walking mostly straight.
He lifted said hand to deny the offer of a cigar. "Smoking is bad for your health, lungs, eyestalks and can disrupt your aura if you're a life form of class 5 or above." he added the very quick spoken disclaimer that followed each cigarette ad.

He should stop quoting ads, or the Doctor will think TV fried the poor raven's brain.
"Ummmm" Jet finally said. He couldn't leave, the Operator wasn't free! Also: "I'm not going anywhere without my Space Toaster!"
…that had been an ad again. At least this time he could shut up before saying the company name!

The Doctor took a sip of his martini and turned back to Jet. "Don't drink and TARDIS, they says. Well I says, life is better with a little booze... and a fine Vega 11 cigar," The Doctor continued offering one to the bird person. "K9 get us out of here, we got a dame to rescue! Botta bing, Botta boom!"

"Yoo-nit," a small voice in the corner corrected. Because the droid didn't use the comlink, its comment seemed lost in the commotion.

"Smoking is bad for your health, lungs, eyestalks and can disrupt your aura if you're a life form of class 5 or above." he added the very quick spoken disclaimer that followed each cigarette ad.

He should stop quoting ads, or the Doctor will think TV fried the poor raven's brain.
"Ummmm" Jet finally said. He couldn't leave, the Operator wasn't free! Also: "I'm not going anywhere without my Space Toaster!"

"YOO-NIT," The droid repeated, only louder. It was under the console connected with some cables. The robots eyes shifted between the kenku and The Doctor. "We must save The Operator!"

"Alright yoose, two! Ya have a little smoke and the boid thinks he's the intergalactic Surgeon General and R2-D2 over dares is statin' the obvious as if I didn't know that." The Doctor scofffed. "Sheesh! No respect I tell ya!"

The Doctor sipped his martini with his pinky finger out and took a puff of his cigar. "So, I was sittin' in the Space Bar and I hear these two telephone guys yappin'. Something about some political shing-dig being taken over and some dame being of some importance bein' kidnapped. 'Hey, I sez! That sounds kind of familiar I sez!'. So I got to thinkin' about it and I sez, 'oh yeah! That dame! I had those crazy kids with me.' They must be talkin' about that. That was quite a few regenerations ago."

Looking around, the man in the Hawaiian shirt and the teens were no longer here. "But what's a coupla hundred years? Soes, anyways, I decide to follow up and I meet this crazy space cadet kid hidin' in a vent. She says she's with Star Fleet or some none sense and a captain and she'll take care of things but I should save this Operator Dame. So, here we is! Now, all I needs to know is where theys holdin' this dame, we sneak into where they is holdin' her and.... bodda bing, bodda boom! We break her out of the joint and skedaddle. Capiche?"

"I am the very model of a modern Major-General" Jet complained in a singing voice. He was, after all basically John Wick!
He loved animals, that was the part that made Wick, right?
Also his gunplay was… well, enthusiastic, and he actually downed some Rhinos with his driving, and if anyone asked him, that was on purpose!

Then he suddenly realized an old friend was here. Quickly, Jet ran at it, his arms extended. "Spaa-aaace Toaster!" he played the jingle from the advertisement, before hugging Yoo-nit.
Then he turned towards the doctor. "We must save the Operator!" he repeated Yoo-nit's words.
After all, he was the very model of a modern Major-General and he had his own R2-D2.

"Capiche." he finally repeated back after the plan. After hugging Yoo-nit, the Kenku got up to fix himself a drink. He was sure the Doctor didn't mind, and Jet sure as hell wasn't going to be the one sober guy during this rescue mission.
That honor probably was Yoo-nit's.
"where theys holdin' this dame" he then repeated back, that was after all the tricky part.

Then he suddenly realized an old friend was here. Quickly, Jet ran at it, his arms extended. "Spaa-aaace Toaster!" he played the jingle from the advertisement, before hugging Yoo-nit.

"Ummmm," The little toaster said in what could be taken by some as an objection.

Then he turned towards the doctor. "We must save the Operator!" he repeated Yoo-nit's words.
After all, he was the very model of a modern Major-General and he had his own R2-D2.

"Capiche." he finally repeated back after the plan. After hugging Yoo-nit, the Kenku got up to fix himself a drink. He was sure the Doctor didn't mind, and Jet sure as hell wasn't going to be the one sober guy during this rescue mission.
That honor probably was Yoo-nit's.
"where theys holdin' this dame" he then repeated back, that was after all the tricky part.

"Ummmmm," the droid repeated shifting its eye sensors between The Doctor and Jet. "Input needed."

"Yoose means to tell me that yoose don't know where this dame is being held," The Doctor asked. "That, gentlemen, could be a problem. We can't perform a rescue if we don't know where this joint is."

The Doctor sipped his martini again and took another puff of his cigar. "They sez Yogi is smarter in the average space bear and I sez I'm smarter than the average Yogi," The Doctor added. "What we need is a cunning plan. The floor is now open..."

The Doctor turned expectantly to the kenku who was preparing himself a cocktail. "That's the spirit, kid! You gotta enjoy the finer things in life, I sez! Now, what's the plan?"

Jet hoped that the "Ummmm" meant 'I missed you too, you overgrown space crow, nice to see you' and wasn't really an objection. Well, he decided to interpret it that way.
Luckily, his BFF (one sided) was put down rather quickly, as Jet had gotten it out of his system and now was introducing Alkohol to his system.

"cunning plan, cunning plan, cunning plan." Jet repeated over and over again in the voice of an alcoholic Doctor on cigars, as he walked up and down the space TARDIS control-room, stroking the underside of his beak.

Finally, a bright light shone in his eyes. Quickly, he grabbed a space-notepad and a space sharpy and started writing.
Proudly, he then handed the Doctor the paper.

"Step 1: We go into the Generator room.
Step 2: We make the Generator go critical.
Step 3: We tell the Space Rhinos that we blow them all to smithereens unless we get the Operator back.
Step 4:"
…well, there was no step 4, just a sketch-drawing of Jet princess-carrying the Operator away (she even had a speech-bubble "My Hero" ) while Yoo-nit cheered him on.

Jet looked at the Doctor as if he expected that guy to praise his genius, or at least tell him that the drawing would go on the space fridge.

The Doctor took a look at the note. He looked a bit unimpressed. "Well, it's an idea I guess, kiddo. That dame from Star Fleet is in there though and she sez she's taking care of that. There's also all them people cooped up downstairs. Got anything else boid-brain? Hey, space toaster! Can you put those nuts and bolts to work for us and use yoose Space Googler to figure out where these guys is hiding?"

Yoo-nit shifted its eyes to the Doctor. "Um...," it replied in its usual monotone voice. The droid wished it could get The Doc to understand that that wasn't how things worked...

Elsewhere...

A grunt approached Lord Helment and bowed. "You have a message from Lady von Böse," he informed the short man with the big helmet and little... man in his pants.

"Put her on," Helmet ordered. A hologram of Lady von Böse appeared. "Hey sis," Helmet said. "What's the haps?"

"We have the prisoners at our super secret hideout. Emporer Pruneface has made his demands. Is everything under control where you are," she asked.

"Yeah, yeah. We got this. So we're done here," Helmet wheezed through the ventilator of his mask.

"As long as no one got out and follows us or finds us," Lady von Böse retorted.

"So we can blow this place up and I can come back to join you and torture the prisoners," Helmet inquired eagerly.

"Make sure no one will cause us any problems and don't F this up or you have to deal with the old man," Lady von Böse answered sternly before vanishing.

"Okay, you heard her. Just keep on hostaging I guess, maybe figure out how to blow the building up and what not. I am going to go get a space coffee at space 7-Eleven," Helmet ordered. The grunt saluted him. "Someone ready my shuttle!"

Back in the TARDIS....

When The Doctor told Yoo-nit to simply use the "Space Googler" to find The Operator and the bad guys' hideout, the droid was not sure how to respond. That was not how Space Googling worked...

"Um," Yoo-nit replied in its deep monotone. "Error. Data needed."

While The Doctor continued to grill Jet over a better plan, Yoo-nit's sensors picked up something. Since he was connected to the console, the droid could utilize the TARDIS's functions.

Yoo-nit brought up the visual of an Imperial Class Space Yacht rapidly approaching.

"Warning! Warning! Warning," Yoo-nit said in rapid-fire succession pronouncing each syllable in a staccato monotone voice. "There is a ship approaching! We have been spotted!"

Jet didn't appreciate being called boid-brain. He crossed his arms and pouted for a moment.
Rude! He didn't call the Doctor or the space-toast… Yoo-nit any insulting nicknames after all, so they could return the favor!

Still, he couldn't stop that bird brain of his from coming up with new plans!
Tavel to the future, read in a news article about the genius and impressive rescue of the princess, and then just go back and do that, so the article would be written!
Before he could start the hard work of communicating his most excellent scheme, Yoo-nit talked about a ship approaching.

Imperial Class Space Yacht. Hm… they could use that.
"Groovy!" Jet said in the voice of an S-Mart employer, before switching back to his old Captain's gruff tone. "Get ready to board! Jet, you're on gun duty!"
Jet saluted the order, originally heard years ago, and jumped towards the weapons console of the Tardis.

After working the gunnery-controls for a minute, he console had provided him with a plastic cup filled with a liquid that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea. It also had provided him with doubt that this was a gunnery console at all.
"…prepare to ram!" he (or his old captain?) changed the order.

As Jet began calling out orders and went on the offensive, more unfortunate events occurred. The TARDIS shook violently.

"Um," Yoo-nit said. Suddenly, it made a series of bleeps and whirrs. There was a ding, the light on its head began to blink and the metal flag on its shoulder bobbed up and down, followed by the discharge of a puffy cloud of white smoke that smelled of burnt toast.

Everyone in the control room was blinded and coughing for a moment between the exhaust from the droid and the doctor's cigar. It did not phase Yoo-nit, however, since the little toaster did not need oxygen.

As the smoke cleared, Yoo-nit made the following proclamation: "We are caught in a tow beam."

The Guide has the following thing to say about tow beams: A tow beam is a magnet-like laser usually fired by a ship or some other large vessel in space. It's purpose is to draw things closer to the craft producing the beam. This method is often used by the space police to apprehend fleeing ships.

A common misconception across the galaxy is the confusion between tow beams and tractor beams. A tractor beam does the opposite of a tow beam. It pushes things away from the vessel as many tractors around the galaxy have large plows on the front used to push things. Many beings mistakenly refer to tow beams as tractor beams. This error is believed to come from the Saphon system where tractors are known to pull things. using hooks. Ironically, tow trucks there push disabled land vehicles from behind and are known as "bump trucks".

"Well gang, this is not good," The Doctor announced waving smoke away from his face and extinguishing his cigar as he stated the obvious. "Okay yoose two, we're gonna need to double-step on that plan. Actually, we needs a new plan to replace the previous plan that we didn't create."

The space yacht, which had Imperial markings, was clearly pulling the TARDIS toward it. A bay door was open threatening to swallow up the small blue police box.

"Hey, I got an idear," The Doctor said suddenly. "We need to find this dame right? That's an Imperial ship, right? Aren't these the same guys that took the dame we are looking for? Well if that's the case, our first problem may solve itself!"

"Work smarter, not harder." Jet quoted an old management-101-holo. Yeah, he didn't make a good plan, but they didn't need a good plan, so it was just him conserving his mental energy instead of being wasteful! Very economic!

He jumped up and down at the idea, all excited. Once again, he grabbed the space notepad.

"Step 1: We get caught.
Step 2: The guards take us to the prisoners quarters.
Step 3: We free ourselves and the operator by
Step 4: (basically the same sketch as the last time)"

"Bond. Space Bond." he quoted the most famous Agent of Space MI6, who basically pioneered this tactic.

Jet pulled his new repeating blaster pistol out of his pocket, and hid it in the harder to reach, inner pocket of his poncho. Of course it would hardly escape an actual pat-down, but people tended to overestimate guards. Then he was ready to get himself captured!