"Darick, I'm sorry-"
Mason crashed on to a table sending it falling before two large unhappy customers. The man bolted up to his feet then swung a punch at a dark gray humanoid with dark red tattoos lining their body and had his hand caught in the massive fist. That was Darick, the muscular man. The dark blue eyes stared down at the thinner, light brown man who stood frozen then was sent stumbling back to the floor. Mason landed on his butt then he was dragged up against the wall where several more punches were delivered and he was tossed toward the door landing onto his back and his head hit boots. Mason groaned, rubbing his forehead then looked up to see a red head and a robot standing above him. The red head reached his hand out helping the younger man to his feet.
"Danger coming at two o'clock!" The Robot announced.
The two men ducked then Will clasped his hands together then slammed them against the gray muscular man sending him falling into a crowd of spectators. The spectators stood up covered in pieces of cake that had the flames still going on wearing frowns on their faces helping Darick to his feet. The three aliens charged toward the two men who stepped aside making them crash against the Robot. The Robot leaned forward then lifted the three alien to their feet and gave a single file sucker punch that sent them stumbling back to the wooden floor.
The Robot mimicked the arm movements of a boxer repeating, "Come at me, punk!" wheeling forward in front of the two men.
The two aliens charged toward the Robot then a cackle of electricity erupted from the red claws knocking the group down to the floor.
"Anyone else like to box me?" the Robot asked, challengingly toward the silent crowd.
"Robot, we are not here to start rough housing," Will said.
"Affirmative" The Robot said, his red claws cackling with electricity.
Will stepped forward.
"Hello," Will said. "I am Will Robinson of Earth, captain of the Jupiter 2, and now that I have your attention, I came here looking for help for a mission that means certain death." The red head observed the crowd as Mason bolted past the two through the doors. Darick grew visibly angry before the red head's eyes. "Or you could end up coming back alive unexpectedly."
"What is the reward?" came a stray voice. "If we survive."
"I am the reward," The Robot announced, earning laughter.
"No, what is the reward?" came Stray Voice which was, in every retrospects, was a stray. The stray unique voice belonged to a rather filmsy, noodle like android with a visor that had two glowing spheres acting as optics. There were thin lighter blue bands decorating the visor similar to bars that stood out compared to the pitch black design and sleek model that had two antennas on its head.
"Robot is a sapient artificial intelligence," Will elaborated. "We come from the planet Earth in the Milky Way."
"Oh, you're from a different Earth," earned a perplexed nod from Will. Different Earth?. . .
"We are headed for Alpha Centauri but we had to face a slight detour," Will said.
"A detour," Darick said, a glint going off in his eyes.
"Yes, sir," Will said. "Robot has so many new parts added in the beginning of our initial journey that there is nothing left that indicates he was made on Earth save for his external features." he patted on the shoulder armor of the robot. "He is a space robot."
"So you mean to say . . ." Darick said. "this a genuine piece of technology that has been adapted with various alien technology that it is superior in every way to a naturally made android, cyborg, or robotiod?"
"No," Will said. "He is not."
"I am obsolete, I am superior to Robotoid, I am Robinson Robot," Robot said.
"If you don't accept him then you can accept a antique that we call home," Will said.
The Robot bobbed his head in alarm turning toward the younger man.
"Just how much of a antique is it?" Darla, a older woman, asked with intrigue.
"Saucer shaped," Will said. "Anyone who is drunk can't participate in this limited time offer. We have six cryostasis pods on the upper decks, a residential deck, and plenty more that you can find with a tour. But the hyper drive navigation system has been permanently damaged. Any automatic piloting is off the table. I estimate it will cost you over a million diamonds just to replace the navigation system and give the Jupiter 2 a interior make over."
"So it is a fixer upper," came Stray Voice. "The kind that pays very well after all that hard work."
"Affirmative," The Robot said, as Will nodded.
"Who like to volunteer for that?" Will asked.
Dozens of customers stood up from their seats.
"Good luck," The Robot turned away then wheeled out of the bar.
Will turned toward the sea of customers ranging from species to species.
"The ship is capable of holding up to eight people," Will said. "It can't hold over forty people."
