(Takes out tissue) You people like me, you really like me! (Blows nose with the sound Yaarp makes)
"How many did you find?!?"
"Over 600, ma'am. This one here, er, 6-2-6, caused us the most trouble."
"Fascinating, if not slightly twisted…"
Oh… My head… I open my eyes slowly… WHAT THE BLITSNACK?!?!? My eyes shoot open to see a very large, grey alien, a smaller blue alien to the front-left of me, their images blurred by glass. I stand up, looking round. I'm in a vertical cylindrical tube, held in place by three metal claws at the top, which in turn is in a large, metal room. I look to my left and right to see a row of tubes, each with an experiment in, conscious or not. To the left of me is 509, the plant experiment, screeching at the aliens and to my left is an unconscious 228. Oh my god! Why've they done this to us? I turn to them and shout;
"Why've you captured us?!? What've we ever done to you?!?" They jump a little, startled. The large grey one hits my tube with his fist, making it ring violently. I cover my ears, gritting my teeth.
"Quiet, Trog!"
"Language, Captain Gantu!" chastises the blue one. She turns to me, clasping her hands together. She seems nice enough. "What is your name?" she asks, standing in front of my prison.
"592." I say, glancing at, er, Gamut. Or Gantu or something. I turn back to her. "What're we doing here?"
"You mean, you don't know why you're here? What you were designed for?" I shake my head, puzzled. Designed for? I thought we were just company. She frowns slightly, probably thinking how to explain. What, I don't know.
"We've… Found evidence that puts you and your, er, relatives-" She indicates the others. "- in the light of mercenaries." Mercenaries? Soldiers?!? What's she talking about? "It seems your creator, Jumba, was going to use you for conquest, to take over worlds."
What?
Take… over…? I slump down against the back of the glass, trying to figure it out. Take over worlds? 221? 323? …613? He made us for conquest?
"You shall be collectively tried in front of the leaders of the Galactic Alliance. You shall each have your say, the bad statements counting against the good ones. Their decision for you is final." She turns and walks down the line, the big guy following. He hits my prison again, making it resonate. I growl at him fiercely. He laughs once, then walks away. I… I… I can't believe it… We're war machines…
Congradulations! you were made to destroy(!)
"How many did you find?!?"
"Over 600, ma'am. This one here, er, 6-2-6, caused us the most trouble."
"Fascinating, if not slightly twisted…"
Oh… My head… I open my eyes slowly… WHAT THE BLITSNACK?!?!? My eyes shoot open to see a very large, grey alien, a smaller blue alien to the front-left of me, their images blurred by glass. I stand up, looking round. I'm in a vertical cylindrical tube, held in place by three metal claws at the top, which in turn is in a large, metal room. I look to my left and right to see a row of tubes, each with an experiment in, conscious or not. To the left of me is 509, the plant experiment, screeching at the aliens and to my left is an unconscious 228. Oh my god! Why've they done this to us? I turn to them and shout;
"Why've you captured us?!? What've we ever done to you?!?" They jump a little, startled. The large grey one hits my tube with his fist, making it ring violently. I cover my ears, gritting my teeth.
"Quiet, Trog!"
"Language, Captain Gantu!" chastises the blue one. She turns to me, clasping her hands together. She seems nice enough. "What is your name?" she asks, standing in front of my prison.
"592." I say, glancing at, er, Gamut. Or Gantu or something. I turn back to her. "What're we doing here?"
"You mean, you don't know why you're here? What you were designed for?" I shake my head, puzzled. Designed for? I thought we were just company. She frowns slightly, probably thinking how to explain. What, I don't know.
"We've… Found evidence that puts you and your, er, relatives-" She indicates the others. "- in the light of mercenaries." Mercenaries? Soldiers?!? What's she talking about? "It seems your creator, Jumba, was going to use you for conquest, to take over worlds."
What?
Take… over…? I slump down against the back of the glass, trying to figure it out. Take over worlds? 221? 323? …613? He made us for conquest?
"You shall be collectively tried in front of the leaders of the Galactic Alliance. You shall each have your say, the bad statements counting against the good ones. Their decision for you is final." She turns and walks down the line, the big guy following. He hits my prison again, making it resonate. I growl at him fiercely. He laughs once, then walks away. I… I… I can't believe it… We're war machines…
Congradulations! you were made to destroy(!)
