THE AMAZING, INCREDIBLE, MIND-BOGGLING ADVENTURES OF TABLE-HEADED SERVICE DRONE BOB!
Epilogue: His own man...
A figure was walking along at a slow pace on the surface of the planet. It wasn't an especially desert planet, but it's vegetation was pretty sparse, and the footpath the figure was walking along was baking hot from the sun. But the figure had learned his lessons from before, and carried with him heat-reflective clothes, a large stockpile of fluids and, perhaps most importantly, an idea of where he wanted to go. If anyone ever asked him that directly, the answer would always be the same: 'somewhere new'.
He took his time, stopping every once in a while to admire the view. In the distance he looked upon a mountain range that bent and curled in strangely angular shapes that could be twisted by any imagination into all kinds of gods and monsters. The tips were a strange shade of purple that in the right light could look like the blood of some species or another. The locals called them 'the army of the gods'. Bob lived for these moments.
He was always on the move, using his technical skills to earn his keep as far as food or travel arrangements were concerned. He always used an alternative name, choosing them on the spot depending on his mood at the time, and tried not to show his face too often. AS far as the authorities knew, he might have died with the rest of the planet, Larb's vague testimonial of a second escape pod being the only indication that he was still alive. But he wasn't taking any chances. Destroying an entire research base and setting back Irken-Planet Jacker relations for decades to come was not something the Irken elite would easily forget.
So Larb had discovered, his punishment had been cruel and unusual. The Tallest ordered that Vort be given independance, and all its sofa-producing facilities stripped from the surface, leaving the natives as bitter and heavily-armed as possible. They then sent Larb to conquer it all over again. Apparently he burst into tears in front of the Tallest. Bob had seen it on a giant monitor in a crowd on some far off planet and couldn't help laughing his ass off at Larb's misfortune.
Bob smiled when he thought of this memory. Ever since the events surrounding the Krakin mind-probe, which was about six months ago now, he had spent every waking moment of his life to collect memories like this. His life before then had been one, long, boring work shift full of eternal dullness and despair. His one attempt to break out of it had ended so tragically that he had closed off the memory of it, as well as any possibility of escape.
Lenn had died because she had been forced back into subserviance. Chak had died the same way. Bob owed it to them, to their memories, to himself, to NEVER fall into that trap again. If the events six months ago had given him anything, it was a second chance. A chance to finally go out and see the universe. And no one would stand in his way.
The sun began setting behind the mountain range. The purple tips of the mountains split the light in such a way that they lit up the whole sky in a spectacular multicolour display. The colours swerved and struck each other as if a battle was going on in the heavens. The army of the gods. Bob stood there, recording this memory in his head, amongst the grief and the pain and the plans for superweapons, sighed a deep sigh, and turned back towards the footpath in search of more memories...
THE END
Written by Rasputin
All characters still alive at the end of this story (C) Nickelodean and Jhnen Vasquez
Epilogue: His own man...
A figure was walking along at a slow pace on the surface of the planet. It wasn't an especially desert planet, but it's vegetation was pretty sparse, and the footpath the figure was walking along was baking hot from the sun. But the figure had learned his lessons from before, and carried with him heat-reflective clothes, a large stockpile of fluids and, perhaps most importantly, an idea of where he wanted to go. If anyone ever asked him that directly, the answer would always be the same: 'somewhere new'.
He took his time, stopping every once in a while to admire the view. In the distance he looked upon a mountain range that bent and curled in strangely angular shapes that could be twisted by any imagination into all kinds of gods and monsters. The tips were a strange shade of purple that in the right light could look like the blood of some species or another. The locals called them 'the army of the gods'. Bob lived for these moments.
He was always on the move, using his technical skills to earn his keep as far as food or travel arrangements were concerned. He always used an alternative name, choosing them on the spot depending on his mood at the time, and tried not to show his face too often. AS far as the authorities knew, he might have died with the rest of the planet, Larb's vague testimonial of a second escape pod being the only indication that he was still alive. But he wasn't taking any chances. Destroying an entire research base and setting back Irken-Planet Jacker relations for decades to come was not something the Irken elite would easily forget.
So Larb had discovered, his punishment had been cruel and unusual. The Tallest ordered that Vort be given independance, and all its sofa-producing facilities stripped from the surface, leaving the natives as bitter and heavily-armed as possible. They then sent Larb to conquer it all over again. Apparently he burst into tears in front of the Tallest. Bob had seen it on a giant monitor in a crowd on some far off planet and couldn't help laughing his ass off at Larb's misfortune.
Bob smiled when he thought of this memory. Ever since the events surrounding the Krakin mind-probe, which was about six months ago now, he had spent every waking moment of his life to collect memories like this. His life before then had been one, long, boring work shift full of eternal dullness and despair. His one attempt to break out of it had ended so tragically that he had closed off the memory of it, as well as any possibility of escape.
Lenn had died because she had been forced back into subserviance. Chak had died the same way. Bob owed it to them, to their memories, to himself, to NEVER fall into that trap again. If the events six months ago had given him anything, it was a second chance. A chance to finally go out and see the universe. And no one would stand in his way.
The sun began setting behind the mountain range. The purple tips of the mountains split the light in such a way that they lit up the whole sky in a spectacular multicolour display. The colours swerved and struck each other as if a battle was going on in the heavens. The army of the gods. Bob stood there, recording this memory in his head, amongst the grief and the pain and the plans for superweapons, sighed a deep sigh, and turned back towards the footpath in search of more memories...
THE END
Written by Rasputin
All characters still alive at the end of this story (C) Nickelodean and Jhnen Vasquez