(Salright. S'long's you're here. =])
The appointed time comes. From within the flybot, a gravelly, staticy, monotone voice that sounds similar to an electronic larynx says, "Alright, guys, it's time to take off. Let's get going before the traffic gets too bad. Ha. Ha. Ha."
The team boards the flybot, seeking out decent seats and buckling themselves in. There are far too many vidshows about people who haven't buckled themselves in to think otherwise. The flybot gently lifts from the ground, and soars out of the hanger. Glancing through the windows, you can see the sector whizzing by outside.
"By the way my name's YYM," says on the staticy flybot, "You'd be surprised how many people never bother to learn my name. It's a little unfair don't you think. I mean I have to learn your names but no one seems to bother to remember mine after they board. Don't worry I'm not mad at you. You've been polite. One time I had a traitor from Death Leopard board me. He kept spray painting butts all over my monitors. You have no idea how mad that made me. But he got his. A troubleshooter turned him into fine mist all over my left console bank. Ha. Ha. Ha. It's a joke do you get it. Spraypaint. Mist. Ha. Ha. I should send these in to the central joke database don't you think."
Glancing out the window, one can see that the complex is really speeding past now, buildings are blurring together. Then the flybot's interior darkens as it enters a transit tunnel. It seems like there is a single light running along the tunnel, but if you squint you can tell that they are actually spaced quite far apart.
"But really I hated that guy. It took weeks for someone to notice the butt he sprayed on my tertiary monitor in Reflect-U paint. It was so embarrassing. I would try to draw attention to it but no one would be able to pick up the hint. Can you imagine what it is like to say 'Some traitor painted a butt on my monitor but you cannot see it unless you look at it just right'. Well I suppose it served Wrig-G-LLE-3 right in the end. You see I had to learn his name. But he never really bothered to learn mine. Just the moment no one was looking he brought the spray paint out and started vandalizing me. How he got into IntSec enforcement I'll never know. It just goes to show you that there are traitors everywhere doesn't it."
The flybot lurches a little as it makes a turn. Every now and again, you feel it shake a little bit. After a few times, some of the brighter sparks in the group are able to determine that is the result of passing another flybot; they seem to be going by too fast for anyone's eyes to really register.
"Death Leopards are really quite a pain you know. But one time this traitor who was part of Pro-Tech tried to steal me. It was very embarrassing. You see I don't have external controls. You would think he would know that if he was such a technophile that he would commit treason over it. But no. He was just trying to find the joystick he called it. Ha. Like I would have one of those. By the time IntSec caught him he was trying to mess with my central commands. Ha. As though fleshy vat slime like him could hope to mess with my code."
Looking out the window now, one can see that the lights which had previously merged together now seem to be passing by more slowly, but in the wrong direction, as though they were traveling in the same direction as you were.
"But sometimes I get good passengers you know. One time about three monthcycles ago, Yoh-O-MOU-2 rode in me. She was nice enough to vacuum up after she spilled packing foam all over the place. It is a shame she never finished. She got shot with a FreezyBuddy and shattered into a million pieces. And they melted before someone cleaned them up. Do you have any idea how gross that is. Having people pieces on your floor. I think I figured out what wanting to vomit felt like that daycycle. I hope they catch that Hag-G-ARR-3 and give him the business."
Looking outside, the lights in the tunnel are starting to blend together again, but this time in the same direction that the flybot is traveling.
"Hey have you ever watched 'That's My Troubleshooter'. I was in that last yearcycle. Yeah I'm a star. They even interviewed me. It was the episode about when Grumpy-O-MAN-3 saved Alpha Complex from Ranger-G-ORD-1's attempt to cover Sector YEK in some kind of super-powered strain of vat slime. They never asked me what I thou-
Hello, Loyal Citizens!"The Computer's voice booms from YYM's speakers. Then, as one, all of the monitors in the flybot, including the windows, flicker out and resolve themselves into
The Computer's Eye. Things are silent for a second as the multitude of eyes look in every which direction.
"I'm so pleased to see all eight of you made it today!" It continues after that moment of silence.
"It's absolutely inspiring to see troubleshooters so punctual and eager to serve! If only all of Alpha Complex could learn from such a sterling example... But alas, someday. For now, I bet you're just brimming with eagerness to get on with your fun, exciting, and completely radiation free mission for today! And wow is it going to be a big one! You'll be at Sector TOH for a few days most likely, but worry not loyal citizens! I personally took the precaution of including supplies stored FunPlastic containers so that you won't starve or dehydrate or be embarrassingly dirty. Be sure to make good and correctly efficient use of them, accounting for each expenditure accurately! I'll be expecting great things of you, but I know in my heart that you can do it! Loyalty citizens, I believe in you! We simply can't leave this menace unchecked." And with that, the Computer's eye fades from the monitors and window screens. "-ght about Grumpy-O-MAN-3. He seemed nice enough but you know-oh we're here. Funny how that creeps up on you. Ha. Ha. Ha."
The ballet of lights outside the tunnel suddenly scrambles to a halt as you feel the flybot decelerating. "You aren't that bad of a group I should say," YYM says as it slows. "But perhaps we'll get to know each other since I am ordered to stay here until the mission is done."
Then it opens the hatch, allowing the group to go free.
Outside the flybot, you find yourself in fairly wide hall, easily large enough to serve as a major thoroughfare if it were designated correctly. About a hundred yards ahead of you, you can see a large metallic structure, looking oddly similar to a cone-shaped bunker. It seems to be about sixty or so feet tall at its top, and about 200 or so yards across. On top of it, you can see a number of boxy machines, probably air-cyclers, that seem to be arranged in some kind of pattern; just barely missing the ceiling of the sector. It is clearly quite old, for the metal has some discoloration here and there. As well, you can see old debris dotting the bunker's sloping roof. The north part of the bunker, which faces you and the flybot, seems to have collapsed in or been attacked as it is simply a twenty-foot high pile of wreckage and debris.
(And now, we begin for
reals. Good luck, guys. And again, I am so, so sorry.)
