Having trouble learning to dock your spaceship?
Try Strip Docking! For each successful attempt, your partner removes a piece of clothing.
Nailed it on my first try!
And my second.
And my third.
...
My seventh successful dock in a row was made at full throttle, and all net!
We also discovered that, with some careful maneuvering, ingenuity, and flexibility, two people CAN fit inside a simulator!
"Hard to starboard!" takes on a whole new meaning...
With a little haggling, a few threats, and a VERY low cut jumpsuit, Terra had uncovered another flight simulator. A private one, reserved for V.I.P.s and C.E.O.s and such. It was made available to us for the entire next day.
And I did train for most of the time...
Well, at least half.
Anyway, we were having a nice little dinner at Crave the Lave, when a waiter appeared with a portavid.
"Call for Commander Black." he said, as he handed it to me.
"Hello?"
"Commander Black? This is Mr. Creedy. I wanted to let you know, that the main office has agreed to give you a new spaceship."
"Oh, well gee, umm, that's great Mr. Creedy." I said, smiling at Terra.
"However, there is one small problem." continued Mr. Creedy. "There are currently no Cobra Mark Three ships available at Lave station." Mr. Creedy seemed to smirk a bit on the portavid screen.
The portavid disappeared from my hand.
"Hello Mr. Creedy." said Terra, who was now holding the portavid.
"Oh... Umm... Yes, umm hello Miss Slavovich..." stammered Mr. Creedy. "I was just about to tell Mr... Umm, Commander Black that while we do not have a Cobra Mark Three available to replace his, he is free to choose from any of the ships currently on the station sales floor."
"I see Mr. Creedy. We will be in touch." Terra closed the connection.
"Come on Morgan, let's go see what dregs they have left you." Terra said, as we rose to leave.
Dregs indeed. Lave, being a moderate agricultural world, rather than a technological one, did not have much for me to choose from...
"That slimy little..." Terra repeatedly muttered as we walked past a couple of rusting Adders, a mostly derelict Boa, what was left of a Moray Medship, and an outdated Cobra Mark One.
We stood there, dejectedly staring at the rust collectors, trying to decide what to do.
"'Scuse me missus..." said a little old man carrying an equally old broom. He wore a dirty pair of overalls, so covered in grease, oil, and rust, that he was nearly invisible against the decaying hulks in the background.
"Oh, I'm sorry, are we in your way?" Terra turned on her megawatt smile.
The old man blushed... I think. It was hard to tell behind the layers of dirt.
"Oh no missus, you ain't in ol' Toms way." The old man's grin, reminded me of the docking bay, mostly a black rectangular hole.
"I knows what they done to you, Commander." says old Tom, glancing at me. "Ol' Toms been here so long, they don't see me no more. They ignores me, they does, when they talks... Just another rusting derelict, is ol' Tom to them. But ol' Toms still gots ears 'e does."
Old Tom looked around slyly. "Took 'em out of here, just a few 'ours ago they did." he said. "Least ways all the ones what was worth anythin'. Flew 'em right out, they did."
"Yes Tom, they didn't leave us much to choose from, did they." said Terra, placing an appreciative hand on Tom's shoulder.
Old Tom nearly glowed. Then, with another quick glance around, Old Tom began shuffling toward the back corner of the room. He stopped and turned to look at us. Then, with a wink and one grimy finger alongside his nose, he motioned us to follow him.
We weaved our slow way between the hulking ships until we came to the Boa.
"They forgots about this one they did." says old Tom. "It's not like them other ones, all pointy and fat arsed, so's they covers it up, because nobody liked it. Nobody would buy it. And then they forgets about it, just like they forgets about ol' Tom."
I look at Terra completely confused. Terra looks at the Boa just as confused.
"No, no, not that..." says old Tom.
He walked under the Boa's nose and points.
There, hidden by the massive bulk of the Boa, and wedged between it and the wall of the bay, is a large shape covered with canvas.
"Ol' Tom'll be right back..."
"What is it?" I asked Terra.
"I don't know Morgan, but I think old Tom is on to something here."
We tried looking under a corner of the tarp, but it was just too dark to make anything out. However, the contours beneath the tarp certainly didn't match the profile of any other ship I could think of.
Old Tom returned with a remote unit and a drone-lifter following behind. With a few deft twists of the remote controls, the drone-lifter grasped a corner of the canvas, and began to pull, slowly uncovering the mysterious shape.
No comments:
Post a Comment