[@Scorpionius]

The words "Long Live the King" echoed, yet become stronger with each repeat, as though cascading in some sort of dark amplifying theater before everything went suddenly quite, just for a moment, and then Sir Swallow found himself spat out onto firm, dirt-ground with the afternoon sun beating down on him. To his left and to his right are rows and rows of tottering piles of lifeless, broken vehicles. Anything of any value had been stripped, leaving their rusted carcasses heaped one on the other and waiting to be fed to the crusher. In the near distance ahead he could see the large metal gate of a high brick wall crowned with rolls of razor wire, and above the gate was a sign that spelled out four red words in graffiti style font, [b][color=ed1c24][b]Little Bob's Wrecking Yard[/b][/color][/b] 

Between himself and the gated exit, however, stood a young, pretty lady with brown shoulder-length hair and green eyes. Despite her obvious beauty - and not that Sir Swallow should care about that detail - she was dressed in well worn black boots, torn blue jeans, and a dirty grey flannelette shirt with sleeves rolled up unevenly. In one hand she dangled a half-drunk bottle of beer, in the other was loosely clutched some variety of remote activation device.   

Sir Swallow would have had barely enough time to come to terms with his plot, before the young woman held up the remote device in her hand with a threatening sneer. She angled the device so he could view the red button she was covering with her thumb, then glanced up to the 5 tone wrecking ball hanging in the air directly above him.

"One false move, Metal Head.... Do I make myself clear?" 

She then takes a quick swig of her beer, wipes her mouth with the sleeve of the same arm, and has a little giggle before saying more.

"...And here I was minding my own damn business, when right on outa the blue some spatial anomaly opens up and out you come - the most peculiar look'n machine I've ever seen. I've seen a lotta fancy machinery in my life, but you are something quite unique. Now, how about you tell me real calm-like just what you are and what you're doing here in my uncles wrecking yard, and maybe I'll think about not dropping that big bad ball of steel on ya."   

The stockpile of cars on either side of Swallow are close, leaving him very little room to move from side to side. Behind him remains the open fissure, though it remains slowly closing. The only other direction was straight ahead where the young lady stood on the narrow dirt road that led to the gate. 

[hr]

[@Quote5]

After escaping any real damage from the Supernova blast by... uh... unknown means, and while interacting with his navigational systems to seek out an inhabited planet or space station, another transmission from an unknown source is received by Ernest's communication systems. The voice once again is feminine and speaking in an unknown dialect, but repeating the same words as before: "[color=f6989d]Dorsin ost halit.[/color]" 

As the transmission is then terminated by its own doing, Ernest's navigational sensors detects a structure several lightyears away from his position. The structure is too small to be a planet and mostly metallic based, but they indicate that a single life-form exists within the structure. If Ernest attempts to bring up an image of the structure at that distance he will fail. If he chooses, he could just go there and investigate the source of the readings to find out what it is.