After nearly three years of faithful combat service, the Dropship Horizon made its final return to Mudd Eisley. Her missions had taken her throughout the galaxy and beyond, through good times and bad, and she had always brought her crew home. Her final run was completed. The passengers disembarked, the cargo bay cleared, and the Horizon was taxied to her hangar for a well-deserved rest. At least, they thought they had cleared all the cargo...
The ship powered down, and all the lights went out. A ground chief made one last sweep of the ship, noticing his team had missed one rather large crate. He shined his light directly on it, and saw that it was marked ROTTEN FRUIT. "Oh well," he grumbled to himself. "It's not like they'll get any fresher. Someone can deal with that later." He left the ship, sealed the hatch, and closed the hangar doors.
An hour later, the crate opened from the inside. Seven dark figures emerged. One moved quickly to the engine controls, as the others raced to the bridge. One of the men coughed. "Beggin’ yer pardon, Cap'n, but did we need to cover ourselves wit’ real rotten fruit? We'll smell like it fer weeks!"
"Be silent, or I'll lock you back inside." The captain looked out the forward viewport. "I can't believe they were just willing to leave a ship like this in storage. Are you certain we will be able to fly her?"
A third man stooped down and sat at the helm controls. "Of course, sir. There are seven of us. The Horizon’s last Captain only had the MasterChef and Dropship Bunny for a crew." He flipped a few switches and adjusted several controls, but to no effect. He sighed. "Has anyone seen an owner's manual?"
Stay tuned...
The ship powered down, and all the lights went out. A ground chief made one last sweep of the ship, noticing his team had missed one rather large crate. He shined his light directly on it, and saw that it was marked ROTTEN FRUIT. "Oh well," he grumbled to himself. "It's not like they'll get any fresher. Someone can deal with that later." He left the ship, sealed the hatch, and closed the hangar doors.
An hour later, the crate opened from the inside. Seven dark figures emerged. One moved quickly to the engine controls, as the others raced to the bridge. One of the men coughed. "Beggin’ yer pardon, Cap'n, but did we need to cover ourselves wit’ real rotten fruit? We'll smell like it fer weeks!"
"Be silent, or I'll lock you back inside." The captain looked out the forward viewport. "I can't believe they were just willing to leave a ship like this in storage. Are you certain we will be able to fly her?"
A third man stooped down and sat at the helm controls. "Of course, sir. There are seven of us. The Horizon’s last Captain only had the MasterChef and Dropship Bunny for a crew." He flipped a few switches and adjusted several controls, but to no effect. He sighed. "Has anyone seen an owner's manual?"
Stay tuned...







