"Kyu em?"
I shrug off the name and just went about my business. I pop open the booze and chugged it down as I stroll through the lit corridors waiting for some plot related shit barge my way.
(4) you get drunk. the booze is not the greatest, but what you drink is mostly not horrible vinegar. Wait for plot. eh? (5) Plot happens! You are alerted by the hologram ... A hologram anyway, that an incoming message has been received regarding cargo transfer and payment and the like. that sounds like a job for shipping and receiving to your drunk self. The hologram asserts that you are shipping and receiving. There's an addendum on the note. something about weapons fire.
While you are busy arguing that weapons fire isn't your job, you are hauled by a spacesuit full of eels to the command deck.
Unit 37 snaps out of it's cleaning glee induced haze
"Yes, this will do nicely"
Take the Industrial Pine Fresh and Institutional Scrubbing Bubble-like Foam Spray and Windex, and head over to the medbay. Once there, commence Deep Cleaning programs and set about it getting it CLEAN™
(6) you tread on over to the medbay, fully stocked and ready for business. You quickly toss all teh useless organics out, crustacean or otherwise, and do unholy battle with the worst corrosive oil spill this side of the last ship you stationed in. After several hours, you emerge victorious and the stains are no more. the room is clean and empty. Maybe a bit TOO empty, on account of the beds, consoles, and dispensaries you chucked unceremoniously into a pile in the hallway outside the medbay. no mater, this place is now sparkling.
Name: Tamatoa
Species: Coconut Crab
Description: A large crab, bluish-purple in color in most places except his back, which is more of an orange...sorta plaid theme. Has two arms with pincers, five legs and one stump where the sixth leg used to be (although I don’t remember if crabs have six or eight legs normally), two swiveling eyestalks with more human-like eyes, and a mouth that also resembles that of a human
Preferred Gravity: Medium
Preferred atmosphere: Oxygen and water are both acceptable
Previous occupation: Hoarding
Miscellaneous: Loves all things SHINY and has no regard for any inner qualities.
Find some matches or a blowtorch and light the oil on fire, exiting the room as soon as the flames take effect
You are, fortunately, interrupted by an actual cleaning robot, which comes in, tosses you out on your shell, and rolls up it's metaphorical sleeves to get to work. Once you've righted yourself, you are made busy dodging the various bits of equipment and trash thrown out of the medbay by the overzealous cleaning bot in its war against everything this ship stands for. You are rewarded at the end with a gloriously shiny, if utterly empty, medbay.
Captain Sirirx snaps out of his ammonia reverie.
"Right, time for leadership!"
Try to find the ship's bridge, cockpit, command deck, or other area wherein a captain is expected to sit or meander about barking orders.
Name: Sirirx
Species: Vetan
Description: An old-timey space suit filled with eternally writhing eels.
Preferred Gravity: High
Preferred atmosphere: Ammonia
Previous occupation: Marrow Farmer
Miscellaneous: These crewmates look kinda tasty... but I probably shouldn't eat my own crew. Maybe as a special treat?
(5) you wander about, barking orders at no one in particular for a bit. In the midst of your authoritative spiel, you chance upon the sight of an amorphous hologram arguing with a total drunk about "duty ... gunfire ... stocks ... merchants ... looting ... prepare to be boarded ... " this sounds very official, and therefore, very much your business. The Hologram turns to you, resolves into one of those classic damsel in distress images, wailing about her only hope. You order her to show you to the command location, which she does. A screen flickers to pixelated and grimy life. The image of a tidy, stern, and imposing figure fills the screen, making demands about "ceasing hostilities" and "examining the cargo hold" and "if you value your lives" and the like. Standard interstellar greetings, really.
Curious of this new discovery, Cog clears the grime around the hatch then goes to push it open while trying to be careful not to make too much noise. Cog hates disturbing the cute but also delicious cockroaches from their nap-naps.
(3) you shove the door open, barely catching a stack of pots as they tilt over. the door makes a horrendous screeching sound as it creaks to the side, but nothing bigger than a mouse responds. You peer around at the familiar room made unfamiliar by the light: so that was indeed some kind of moss or lichen hanging from the ceiling, and not insulation gone bad. You knew that wasn't the source of your severe stomach pains and explosive diarrhea. It must have been the mushrooms, which, on clearer inspection, are bright red with lime green spots, which slowly ooze, until they drip onto the counter, leaving noticeable trenches in the laminate surface. Your brood leader always told you to avoid eating anything that can eat a countertop.
"Oh shit I ripped off on of my own antlers I think I'm starting to lose it, god I hope I can put it back."
Go try to find the crew quarters so I can rest, failing that just find a decent looking chair.
Name: Dr. Bob
Species: Deerman
Description: Average looking for someone of his species.
Preferred Gravity: Medium
Preferred atmosphere: oxygen
Previous occupation: Geneticist
Miscellaneous: Would prefer not to be here.
Inventory:
Phone
Antler
(5) You find the crew quarters and locate a room that has an actual bed with mattress. sure, the mattress is lumpy, smells of mildew, and is torn in six different places, but it's soft-ish and you fall asleep almost immediately. You even find a blanket of some description to pull over your shoulders, but not over much else.
Zygomuc goes forth to consume the nearest source of petroleum products, plastic or otherwise. This includes oil based creatures, if any are about.
(1) Zygomuc ends up inside a large resealable plastecine bag. His enemies are always one step ahead, it seems.
Author
Topic: Mold Farmers in Space (Read 45915 times)