THE AMAZING, INCREDIBLE, MIND-BOGGLING ADVENTURES OF TABLE-HEADED SERVICE DRONE BOB!
Part Nineteen: Icarus
Bob was facing a brigade of trained soldiers from Larb's personal pet project, but his fear turned to silent resignation. Chak had released him into the clutches of Tek's opponents, there was only one real conclusion to be drawn.
"I should've expected this somehow," Bob lamented. Chak had switched sides, but neither side cold be reasonably described as 'his'. Chak left the cell in shock, she had NOT anticipated this, and it was losing her the only friend she had.
"I know what this looks like," Chak pleaded to Bob, "but I honestly had nothing to do with this! I sent you people to the trash compactor! You...you tricked me!" It SOUNDED like a lame afterthought, and she knew it.
"Good job Chak! Nice of you to keep up appearances," Larb said coldly. Even though his sole claim to fame was conquering a planet famous for it's unimaginably comfy sofas, he knew enough about the principles of 'divide and conquer' to play whatever card he was given. Besides, he liked soap operas.
"He's twisting the truth Bob!" Chak begged, "don't listen to him!" But Bob wasn't even listening to her. She was no longer a person in Bob's world. To him, she was now a fixed point in space with annoying little noises emanating from it. Bob instead turned his attention to Larb.
"You may think that you've got away with it," Bob mentioned defiantly, "but you forgot ONE thing!"
"And what might that be?" asked Larb, unimpressed.
"Uhhh..." Bob began, resistance melting like so much cheap ice cream, "actually I was hoping you could tell me..." Bob was interrupted by a chirping sound from Larb's command belt. Larb grabbed the radio from it irritably.
"Grep?" Larb spat into the radio, "I thought I ordered radio silence! And shouldn't you be unconscious?"
"Hello, precious," said the radio, sounding rather more feminine than Grep, though not by much, but nevertheless putting the fear of god into Larb and every other person in his vicinity, which was actually rather apt.
"Tek?" mewed Larb. His little operation wasn't especially going to plan.
"The one and only," uttered the cold, emotionless voice from the radio, "just thought I'd drop in and see how you were doing. Such a shame about Grep isn't it? Cut down in his prime by several tons of Irken alloys breaking into pieces on the planet's surface around him. And that was your own ship and all? Crying shame..." Larb gulped.
"What do you want?" Larb spoke into the radio.
"The same thing you want," the radio responded, "but unlike you, I don't really have the technology to do anything about it. However unlike you, I also have the ability to get out of this impasse alive. Get my drift?"
"Even if we get you the technology," Larb proposed, "you won't be able to operate it!"
"Oh, you needn't worry about that..." the radio answered. A rumbling was heard and felt by every person in the detention area. The cruiser was airborne.
"PLEASE DO WHAT SHE WANTS, SIR!" yelled the radio, sounding hoarser and on the brink of a nervous breakdown, "THEY'RE POKING NEEDLES IN MY BUTT!"
"That was your little scientist lapdog," the voice on the radio returned to it's previous lack of feeling, "give me everything I need and you may just get out of this aliv-" The radio was cut off as the cruiser tremored and shook. A tremendous bump coursed through the ship and the entire team seemed to be thrown two feet in the air. The two smaller members managed to keep their balance on account of their size.
"Well, it's been nice knowing you gents," Bob uttered before taking advantage of their temporary confusion by skidaddling. Chak looked upon the mass of bodies, rubbing their heads or nursing their knees or simply getting over the shock, and saw her choices laid out in front of her.
"What the hell was-BZZZZT!" the radio spat as confusion wracked the ship about what they just hit. Chak looked at the disappearing figure of Bob and made her choice...
TO BE CONTINUED...
Part Nineteen: Icarus
Bob was facing a brigade of trained soldiers from Larb's personal pet project, but his fear turned to silent resignation. Chak had released him into the clutches of Tek's opponents, there was only one real conclusion to be drawn.
"I should've expected this somehow," Bob lamented. Chak had switched sides, but neither side cold be reasonably described as 'his'. Chak left the cell in shock, she had NOT anticipated this, and it was losing her the only friend she had.
"I know what this looks like," Chak pleaded to Bob, "but I honestly had nothing to do with this! I sent you people to the trash compactor! You...you tricked me!" It SOUNDED like a lame afterthought, and she knew it.
"Good job Chak! Nice of you to keep up appearances," Larb said coldly. Even though his sole claim to fame was conquering a planet famous for it's unimaginably comfy sofas, he knew enough about the principles of 'divide and conquer' to play whatever card he was given. Besides, he liked soap operas.
"He's twisting the truth Bob!" Chak begged, "don't listen to him!" But Bob wasn't even listening to her. She was no longer a person in Bob's world. To him, she was now a fixed point in space with annoying little noises emanating from it. Bob instead turned his attention to Larb.
"You may think that you've got away with it," Bob mentioned defiantly, "but you forgot ONE thing!"
"And what might that be?" asked Larb, unimpressed.
"Uhhh..." Bob began, resistance melting like so much cheap ice cream, "actually I was hoping you could tell me..." Bob was interrupted by a chirping sound from Larb's command belt. Larb grabbed the radio from it irritably.
"Grep?" Larb spat into the radio, "I thought I ordered radio silence! And shouldn't you be unconscious?"
"Hello, precious," said the radio, sounding rather more feminine than Grep, though not by much, but nevertheless putting the fear of god into Larb and every other person in his vicinity, which was actually rather apt.
"Tek?" mewed Larb. His little operation wasn't especially going to plan.
"The one and only," uttered the cold, emotionless voice from the radio, "just thought I'd drop in and see how you were doing. Such a shame about Grep isn't it? Cut down in his prime by several tons of Irken alloys breaking into pieces on the planet's surface around him. And that was your own ship and all? Crying shame..." Larb gulped.
"What do you want?" Larb spoke into the radio.
"The same thing you want," the radio responded, "but unlike you, I don't really have the technology to do anything about it. However unlike you, I also have the ability to get out of this impasse alive. Get my drift?"
"Even if we get you the technology," Larb proposed, "you won't be able to operate it!"
"Oh, you needn't worry about that..." the radio answered. A rumbling was heard and felt by every person in the detention area. The cruiser was airborne.
"PLEASE DO WHAT SHE WANTS, SIR!" yelled the radio, sounding hoarser and on the brink of a nervous breakdown, "THEY'RE POKING NEEDLES IN MY BUTT!"
"That was your little scientist lapdog," the voice on the radio returned to it's previous lack of feeling, "give me everything I need and you may just get out of this aliv-" The radio was cut off as the cruiser tremored and shook. A tremendous bump coursed through the ship and the entire team seemed to be thrown two feet in the air. The two smaller members managed to keep their balance on account of their size.
"Well, it's been nice knowing you gents," Bob uttered before taking advantage of their temporary confusion by skidaddling. Chak looked upon the mass of bodies, rubbing their heads or nursing their knees or simply getting over the shock, and saw her choices laid out in front of her.
"What the hell was-BZZZZT!" the radio spat as confusion wracked the ship about what they just hit. Chak looked at the disappearing figure of Bob and made her choice...
TO BE CONTINUED...