Lightspeed

Havoc
Name: Jason Hewitt
Job: Security Guard
Equipment:
Body Armor, SWAT Helmet,
Blaster, Stun Gun, Taser


Trigger
Name: Maks Moore
Job: Security Officer
Equipment:
Body Armor, SWAT Helmet,
Blaster, Stun Gun, Taser

Pest02
Name: Sal Mason
Job: Station Engineer
Equipment:
Fire-proof suit, Gas mask
Welding set

Z1
Name: Granson Dillinger
Job: Medical Doctor
Equipment:
Lab coat,
Bottles(Sleep, Heal, Anti-poison), Syringe Box


"Good afternoon crew. This is your Captain, telling you that vacation is going to occur as normal. The tropical beaches of Nin Sul have been reported as beautiful, as usual. If you don't want to wait, then too bad. Just joking, visit wherever you people set up the holodeck. Seriously....why haven't I been told where it is? I'm your freaking CAPTAIN...."

And so began David's everyday rant. Sal rubbed his head. Another bad dream, usually in the same way. Janice said that the dreams were a psyioc episode relating to his internal struggle over not having a legitimate brother. That didn't explain why people blew themselves to pieces while running from the evil blob, angry monkeys, an evil AI Cyborg, or the most recent pirates....

The lights flickered off and back on. The engine wasn't running right. Sal fiddled with a few knobs, and an explosion rocked the ship*.

"Engine back online.", Sal said. "Forgot to warn you guys."

Just a typical day on Epsilon 8.



*Non harmful. Don't freak out.

Granson shook as the ship rocked from the explosion. He had been working on a patient who had gotten into a bar fight and gotten stabbed with a broken bottle, and as the explosion accrued, Granson was in the middle of removing some of the glass, and almost pushed some farther in.

"Sick bay to bridge, can you please try to control the explosions, don't want to kill any of the people I am supposed to help"

Maks would have liked very much to scratch his balls at that moment, but alas, his armour was in the way. He tried to shift around so that he could get at the irritated area via one of the rubbery sections of his suit without any plating on it, but unfortunately the groin was a well protected area.

"C'mon, c'mon..." Maks growled, as he hopped back and forth, trying unsuccessfully to gain sweet release, but his armoured crotch was an exclusive club he wasn't invited to. He must have looked silly: a grown man in full combat apparel flailing back and forth whilst grabbing at his pelvis. But at that moment, Maks couldn't have given less of a fuck.

His balls itched, and that was all that mattered. "I call upon the power of Satan, and all that is nasty! Please help me to achieve my goal!" He shouted at no one in particular as he struggled unsuccessfully with his cod-piece.

Then, giving up, Maks collapsed on the ground and began sobbing and shouting incoherently, while his pants caught ablaze.

And then he awoke in a cold sweat. His balls itched not a little bit, and everything was right in the word. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Maks sank back down into his pillows and prepared to sleep.

And that was when he saw the clock. "Late! I'm gonna be late!" He shouted, throwing the blankets off and leaping from his bunk. All around him, the other empty bunks were messily strewn about, to show that they had been well slept in. "Bastards could have at least woken me..." He mused as he slipped into his armour without issue.

Then, grabbing his gear, he rushed from the barracks and towards his post, hoping that no one had noticed he was missing.

A monkey stood in a white room, all alone, except for a bowl of lettuce. The monkeys name was Nixon, and it would serve as a basis for scientific research that would save millions of lives. Or, just provide some scientists with a cheap laugh.

Trevor leaned toward the microphone positioned in front of the one way glass of one wall, and said, "Now, Nixon, Please eat the lettuce." The monkey, surprised by the sudden voice, ran forward, bumping into a wall. Then, getting up, he stumbled over to the lettuce, and bit into the green leaf. Nixon exploded in a large, neon green cloud of chemicals, melting the bowl and one of the walls. Trevor wrote down this phenomenom, nodded, then proceded to laugh, while walking out the door, and bumping into a running gaurd, who, for some reason, had his hand over his crouch.

"Tally-ho, and all that!" Maks said with a little salute to the scientist as he ran past.

Baker started washing some of the used canisters of Beer from last night. "Those mother fuckers know how to drink," Baker felt that his wallet grew heavier. "and that works for me."

He laughed to himself, and cleaned the last of the canisters. "Get me the usual." Baker spun around and started pouring Tequila into a glass and slid it down to the customer. Thats when the room started getting crowded again, and Baker kept sliding down drinks for many of his loyal, drunk customers.