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The Andro-Tobors were gone, leaving the ship in something of a bad case of disrepair. Captain Tailos began making necessary adjustments for landing on Jahovia III's spaceport, before leaving the bridge to find Jasper and the other Magical Girls. The Dirk was still safe in the ship, after all, hidden inside the glove compartment next to the C-C-Combobreakers and beneath the dash.

"What a mess," he remarked, spotting scorch marks and hammerblows in the synthelloid metallicors of the atheriocorridors. "And still no sign of anyone--"

And he paused. The Dozer automaton was still activated, further down the hall. He was sure the Federation manual said that the Dozerbot only became active in cases of extreme emergencies towards crew safety...

((We got a Captain, a crew, an "android", and a planet with a working spaceport. Now all we need is a biology lab turned Parasite and a biodome and we can have a match of Parasite started. It was a highly popular gaming mod In WC, if you don't know what I'm talking about. Maybe a few mind reading aliens would work too.
Axioma: by Eldar, you don't mean Warhammer, do you?))

Kite was busy making strange sounds of hemmorhaging, spilling what was at least PG-13 substances everywhere from being nicked by a vibrowanser. Fortunately for the rating, he quickly managed to heal himself as he remembered that from his world, laser bladathingies seared the flesh so that no blood would come out.

Pausing, the untransformed Magical Guyl looked around from one of the entrances to the bridge. "I shouldn't have lungeded against a guy with a few million blades pointed at my general direction." He muttered to himself. "And I thought only one guy could get hurt in those cut scenes..." Staring blankly at the genocide of metal that occured on the bridge, Kite wondered where most of the crew went in a time of crisis. No emergency evacuation occured, as far as he was aware.

"Hey, is anybody here? Pada bear? Sand Bear the III? I was sent here by some crazy hippy and it appears as if I'm a typical boy that got thrown into a futuristic and unusual world that one would expect from a cliche RiBen animation. And there's that giant blob that looks like a planet that's oddly in a condition that people could survive on if in a suit. We aren't going to try and land on thing whatever it is, are we?"

The mechanical man leaned back against the wall behind him. His programming told him that he should be entering powersave mode, but he couldn't force himself to do it. His vision caught Captain Tailos's look, and he made a motion to smile.

"Hello, Captain. What can I do for you?"

((Elder, not Eldar. Elder as in fancy name for old. As in the planet everyone lived on before anyone lived anywhere else.))

Akishio tensed. Normally, it was impossible to sneak up onher, she had the instincts and senses of a cat, but this woman seemed to have done it without any effort at all.

"I...yes, I am," she said, fixing a lock of red-black hair that had fallen out of the complexly arranged, almost non-euclidian hair that was supposedly popular in the courts this time of the year. "Forgive me, I was spacewool-gathering. Lady Roufetta, is it?" she said carefully, not wanting to insult any of her parents' guests.

None except one. Stars, how she wanted to insult him! That would never do, of course, her mother would cry and ask her why she hater her poor mother so much, and then Akishio would give in and do as she was told, just as she had given in when she had wanted to learn blitzslug riding, or axe-dueling. She'd shown quite a lot of aptitude and was sure she would have made it on the axe-dueling team, but her mother had cried and cried and finally, Akishio had given in.

She searched for some vapid conversation to hold with this woman. Her mother would expect her to entertain the guests (and later him, yes, later you will entertain him, all alone you will entertain him, yes yes). She racked her brain for something to say, the way she had with the rest of the people who had approached to tell her how lucky she was.

"We have a beautyful moon out tonight, don't we? Father must be forcing the art department to work ovetime." She gave a laugh and hoped it did not sound as fake as it was.

The General Derelict, furious in the failure of the plastic metalloy reparinators, threw them into the trash smusherbarkinator and proceeded to take to the bridge of the ship. With the commodore freshly primsatized, the General was free to order the entire Andro-Tobor fleet to bombard Jahovia.

Activating flogromatic speed, the fleet brafed into flogrospace in the direction of Jahovia.

"I WILL DESTROY YOU YET, CAPTAIN TAILOS," the General blorgurdulated, oscillating between his Magical and cyborgonic forms at a rate most would find impossibly awefing.

MEANWHILE. . .

The General had not been entirely willing to abandon his stake on the Soulbounty.

There was a sudden beeping on the bridge, and then a flash of light from where the hole in the gluconic viewport had been.

Neuronestatic gasiological agent! Thousands.. of it?

Well, this is it. If I can't find a job in the next two days, I'm going to lose my Engimatronics & Fixilation license, I won't be able to pay for a new battercell for my gauntlets, and I won't be able to afford any synthefoodstuff... and even worse than all that--

"Will you stop writing in that stupid journal?"

My beard won't shut up.

"I saw that! Since when am I YOUR beard, huh?"

"Oh, shove it."

"NO, YOU!"

It's been like this for days now--

"Oh, really? By the past two weeks' entries of whining and griping, I would never have been able to guess."

"Oh, will you stop it already?!"

Whim Whimsson closed his dijournital and put his hand to his forehead in exasperation. Coming to Jahovia was the biggest mistake he'd ever made: one string of misfortunes after another had left him e-penniless after little over a month. No ship that came to port would hire him, as they already had their own Fixilators, and all the jobs around the planet that he could have done well in, all the employers had been scared off by his vociferous facial hair.

Whim flopped back into one of the barely comfortable Fleather (Only the Flinest!) sofas lining the reception hall of Jahovian Planetary Spaceport, JPS, and stared up at the bland, greyish sky. "Blorg, but I am hungry."

"Preaching to the choir, here, buddy," intoned The Angry Beard.