[center][b]Good Cop, Bad Cop - On The Landing Pad[/b][/center]
Maracun Cropman's arms shot up into the air as best they could; the cut of the jacket really didn't suit such a sudden motion, and the Prax Slitharii were a species blessed with so many elbows that the Galactic Union of Contortionists barred Twitchers from membership because it'd put most of them out of business. Maracun tried his hardest to remain perfectly still in the face of a rifle, even as his twitching antennae sought to betray whatever air of cool confidence he could still cling to.

Then came the hug, and Maracun stammered out [i]something[/i] that sounded more like a string of meaningless syllables than anything truly intelligible, but the general gist of it - going by tone, at least - was that he was much happier being hugged rather than being shot. The rifle was still there, of course, and all four of his eyes were staring quite intently at Vanessa's trigger finger for any sign that she was feeling twitchy.

"[color=fff79a]This. Way. It, uh, m-mind if you ask your, uh, friend, if they'd put down the piece,[/color]" Maracun cajoled his tongue and his brain to work together for just enough time to translate a coherent thought into a mostly coherent sentence, "[color=fff79a]um, I've got to, uh, I'll have to give the knock, let... let them open it from the other side, you know?[/color]"

[hr]
[center][b]Fiddlesticks Goes On An Adventure - Under The Landing Pad[/b][/center]

Grimy water dripped from the ceiling of the maintenance tunnel. Here and there were some light fixtures, set behind layers of protective red plastic and metal grating, primed to illuminate the whole scene in a comforting red glow, but they sat dormant for now. Pale, almost translucent insects danced about in the dim light of the cleaner bot's screen. Some of them wore little hats made of discarded paper and plastics that had washed up here. The need to party in Ofromia ran all the way down the food chain, it seemed. They paid no mind to the confused duo.

The robot took a few tentative steps towards Fiddlesticks. The face on the screen flickered between two different states; confusion and concern. There was still a chance, considered this rogue copy of the Ship AI, that this was a trick - after all, that's exactly what it would do in this situation.

 "[color=#d9d9d9][i]Lost?[/i] I'll just connect us to the ship, I'll get it to ask for th-[/color]"

 The face on the screen disappeared, replaced by a dull console with lines of green text running down it.

>failed to connect to QoF_Network1Fore
>failed to connect to QoF_Network2Aft
>failed to connect to QoF_COFFEEMATE2000
>failed to connect to QoF_FileshareANIME
>failed to connect to QoF_DocFroNet
>failed to connect to HR_CustomerNet
>checking for available networks
>connecting to OFR_Undernet
>login: guest
>password: ***********
>failed to connect! check password
>password: *****
>failed to connect! check password
>password: *********
>failed to connect

 The face came back to the screen, looking quite pleased with itself.

 "[color=#d9d9d9]Great news! I am lost too! No turning back now, I'm free! [I]We[/i] are going on a date![/color]"

 From somewhere further down the tunnel, further into the darkness, came an ominous rumbling.