robberbaron
First Post
Piratecat said:
Perhaps later.
I think he would suit a Super-Intelligent Pet, but that wouldn't really be Role-Playing, would it?
Excel sheet looks brilliant, a thousand thanks.
Last edited:
[Spaceship Zero] Q-Ship (actually updated 19 May 2007)
- Thread starter Capellan
- Start date
Perhaps later.
I think he would suit a Super-Intelligent Pet, but that wouldn't really be Role-Playing, would it?
Excel sheet looks brilliant, a thousand thanks.
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Piratecat said:Right! Make Plane Sailing play a Slave Girl.
Hey, that sounds like it might be some role-playing fun.
(Did I say that out loud?)
Capellan
Explorer
"Blast Off!" - Part 22
It doesn't take long for the plan to hit a snag.
"I can't believe they don't have enough furs for the bag!" Fury stands with legs astride, hands on hips, "They make their clothes from furs, for heaven's sake!"
"You may not have noticed, but their clothes are rather small."
"Oh, I've noticed."
S'Ondra scowls,
"In any case –" she continues, "- the chief says they have only enough for half of the bag. We will have to find the rest of the furs some other way."
"Did you make sure he's telling the truth?"
S'Ondra greets the question with a withering stare. Fury shrugs,
"Just asking. So, did he say where we could find more furs?"
"Oh, he had lots of ideas." S'Ondra rolls her eyes, "Mostly, they involved charging off to the nearest tribe, using our 'mighty sky god powers' to enslave them, and then stealing all they had."
"Good man -" Fury catches a glimpse of S'Ondra's expression and smothers his words in a cough, "That is, I mean, Good Lord, what kind of savage would suggest that?" he ponders for a moment, "Maybe I could head out with my pistol and shoot a few of the local animals. How many would I need to kill to get enough furs?"
"More than 'a few'." Is S'Ondra's estimation, "Listen, I've been talking to my duplicate."
"Really? Did she say anything about me?"
"No. Now, try to be quiet and listen. She said that there is another tribe, only a few hours away from here –"
"I thought you didn't want to attack another tribe?"
"I don't want to attack them. I wand to trade with them."
"Oh." Fury considers this for a moment, then nods, "Sounds reasonable. I'll get the others."
The Captain finds Gustav standing at the edge of the mould, watching as Archie slowly scrapes away the brown covering over the ship of the Pathfinder. Every now and then, a small shudder of distaste runs through the robot's body.
"I have found the hatch, Doctor."
"Well done, Archie." Gustav nods in pleasure, "Now, open ze hatch –"
Reeeeaaaaark. There is a screech of tortured metal as the servomotors in the robot's arms go into action, the hatch peeling back and buckling as it is forced open. Fury goes pale.
"Could you ask him not to do that?"
"Zere is no alternative." Gustav shrugs apologetically, "Ze controls for ze hatch are within the ship, and we cannot reach zem."
Archie wrenches again, tearing the hatch free. Crumpling the metal into a rough ball, he opens a panel in his chest and deposits the remains of the hatch inside. Then, he reaches into the gloomy opening in the side of the ship, pulling forth the silvery sampler arm.
"You must bring it to full extension, Archie." Gustav calls, "Only zen should you detach it." He turns his attention to Fury again, "What is it you wished to discuss with me, Captain?"
"We're going to need more furs." Fury winces as Archie begins to drag the sampler arm free from its housing, "S'Ondra and I are going to head over to the next tribe and try to purchase some. I was going to ask if you wanted to come, but you look very busy here. Very important work you're doing, too – no time for interruptions, I'm sure." He turns to leave, as if all is settled.
"Not at all." Gustav waves his hand expansively, interrupting Fury's attempt to leave. "Reconfiguring ze sampler arm is a matter of child's play, but it will be for nought if we do not have ze furs. Archie and I will accompany you on zis important mission."
"Oh." Fury manages a rather forced-looking grin, "Great."
So it is that the four space adventurers – and S'Ondra's duplicate – make ready to set out for the neighbouring tribe.
"Know way good." Their guide informs them, from her position on Fury's arm (the real S'Ondra scowls, but says nothing). "This old tribe."
"Old tribe?" Gustav is curious, "Why leave old tribe? Why join new one?" his machine burbles the translation as he speaks.
"Captured in fighting." Is the cheerful reply, "Made warrior's bride." The girl waves her hand at a nearby Venusian male, whose scowl at Fury is eerily reminiscent of S'Ondra's.
"Barbaric." Gustav shakes his head, "I am sure my wife would never stand for zis,"
"Oh, I doubt they stand, old man. Probably drag them by the hair."
The journey the old tribe of S'Ondra's savage counterpart takes about an hour, as the group picks their way through the dense Venusian underbrush, steering a wide birth around the enormous spines that project from most of the cactus-like plants.
Eventually, they emerge into a rough clearing, which is dotted with several rudimentary huts, collected in a rather bedraggled-looking circle. The sudden appearance of these intruders sends the villagers into a spasm of activity: men rush for their spears, women fall wailing to the ground, and children dance excitedly from foot to foot.
From all of the chaos emerges the village chief: an older man, his gaunt height exaggerated even further by the huge headdress he wears. Catching sight of S'Ondra, his eyes widen, just as the Princess herself recognises his face:
"Father!"
It doesn't take long for the plan to hit a snag.
"I can't believe they don't have enough furs for the bag!" Fury stands with legs astride, hands on hips, "They make their clothes from furs, for heaven's sake!"
"You may not have noticed, but their clothes are rather small."
"Oh, I've noticed."
S'Ondra scowls,
"In any case –" she continues, "- the chief says they have only enough for half of the bag. We will have to find the rest of the furs some other way."
"Did you make sure he's telling the truth?"
S'Ondra greets the question with a withering stare. Fury shrugs,
"Just asking. So, did he say where we could find more furs?"
"Oh, he had lots of ideas." S'Ondra rolls her eyes, "Mostly, they involved charging off to the nearest tribe, using our 'mighty sky god powers' to enslave them, and then stealing all they had."
"Good man -" Fury catches a glimpse of S'Ondra's expression and smothers his words in a cough, "That is, I mean, Good Lord, what kind of savage would suggest that?" he ponders for a moment, "Maybe I could head out with my pistol and shoot a few of the local animals. How many would I need to kill to get enough furs?"
"More than 'a few'." Is S'Ondra's estimation, "Listen, I've been talking to my duplicate."
"Really? Did she say anything about me?"
"No. Now, try to be quiet and listen. She said that there is another tribe, only a few hours away from here –"
"I thought you didn't want to attack another tribe?"
"I don't want to attack them. I wand to trade with them."
"Oh." Fury considers this for a moment, then nods, "Sounds reasonable. I'll get the others."
The Captain finds Gustav standing at the edge of the mould, watching as Archie slowly scrapes away the brown covering over the ship of the Pathfinder. Every now and then, a small shudder of distaste runs through the robot's body.
"I have found the hatch, Doctor."
"Well done, Archie." Gustav nods in pleasure, "Now, open ze hatch –"
Reeeeaaaaark. There is a screech of tortured metal as the servomotors in the robot's arms go into action, the hatch peeling back and buckling as it is forced open. Fury goes pale.
"Could you ask him not to do that?"
"Zere is no alternative." Gustav shrugs apologetically, "Ze controls for ze hatch are within the ship, and we cannot reach zem."
Archie wrenches again, tearing the hatch free. Crumpling the metal into a rough ball, he opens a panel in his chest and deposits the remains of the hatch inside. Then, he reaches into the gloomy opening in the side of the ship, pulling forth the silvery sampler arm.
"You must bring it to full extension, Archie." Gustav calls, "Only zen should you detach it." He turns his attention to Fury again, "What is it you wished to discuss with me, Captain?"
"We're going to need more furs." Fury winces as Archie begins to drag the sampler arm free from its housing, "S'Ondra and I are going to head over to the next tribe and try to purchase some. I was going to ask if you wanted to come, but you look very busy here. Very important work you're doing, too – no time for interruptions, I'm sure." He turns to leave, as if all is settled.
"Not at all." Gustav waves his hand expansively, interrupting Fury's attempt to leave. "Reconfiguring ze sampler arm is a matter of child's play, but it will be for nought if we do not have ze furs. Archie and I will accompany you on zis important mission."
"Oh." Fury manages a rather forced-looking grin, "Great."
So it is that the four space adventurers – and S'Ondra's duplicate – make ready to set out for the neighbouring tribe.
"Know way good." Their guide informs them, from her position on Fury's arm (the real S'Ondra scowls, but says nothing). "This old tribe."
"Old tribe?" Gustav is curious, "Why leave old tribe? Why join new one?" his machine burbles the translation as he speaks.
"Captured in fighting." Is the cheerful reply, "Made warrior's bride." The girl waves her hand at a nearby Venusian male, whose scowl at Fury is eerily reminiscent of S'Ondra's.
"Barbaric." Gustav shakes his head, "I am sure my wife would never stand for zis,"
"Oh, I doubt they stand, old man. Probably drag them by the hair."
The journey the old tribe of S'Ondra's savage counterpart takes about an hour, as the group picks their way through the dense Venusian underbrush, steering a wide birth around the enormous spines that project from most of the cactus-like plants.
Eventually, they emerge into a rough clearing, which is dotted with several rudimentary huts, collected in a rather bedraggled-looking circle. The sudden appearance of these intruders sends the villagers into a spasm of activity: men rush for their spears, women fall wailing to the ground, and children dance excitedly from foot to foot.
From all of the chaos emerges the village chief: an older man, his gaunt height exaggerated even further by the huge headdress he wears. Catching sight of S'Ondra, his eyes widen, just as the Princess herself recognises his face:
"Father!"
Zaruthustran
The tingling means it’s working!
Piratecat said:
[Reaches out, cranks volume knob on vaccuum-tube-powered radio, passes box of Animal Crackers to Pirate Cat, resumes laying on floor with chin propped up in hands, wide-eyed, anxiously awaiting next spine-tingling episode.]
-z, who actually did inherit and listen to a vaccuum-tube-powered radio when he was a kid. Though, alas, nothing like Spaceship Zero was heard from its dusty speakers.
Capellan
Explorer
"Blast Off!" - Part 23
The old man staggers slightly as S'Ondra races forward, throwing herself into his arms. A look of confusion crosses his face, growing to absolute bewilderment when he sees S'Ondra's savage counterpart, clinging timidly to Fury's arm.
"Really." Archie complains primly, "All this touching is quite unhygienic."
"Who you?" the elder Venusian manages at last, having succeeded in prying himself out of S'Ondra's gasp.
"I'm your daughter!" she wails in response, "But you're dead and I'd lost you but now you're not dead but not you!"
The old man takes a half step backwards,
"You not daughter. Her daughter –" he points at the savage S'Ondra, "- but her taken Cliff tribe. She belong them now."
S'Ondra, her eyes still brimming with tears, begins to recover herself a little,
"We bring her back." She says at last, "Belong you again."
"But how? She war-prize them, belong them. If you take, belong you. Not belong us."
"I don't think they understand that we want to return her," Fury says, then glances sharply at S'Ondra, "Not that I remember us actually discussing that –"
"She's his daughter!"
"- but I'm willing to accept it." The Captain ignores S'Ondra's interjection, "Regardless, I don't think he understands the idea of us giving her away. Let me try something."
Stepping forward, Fury points at the reality's S'Ondra,
"She ours, but we want trade. We give girl, you give furs. All happy."
"She not please you?" the elder Venusian asks in puzzlement. Fury struggles to reply, as he finds himself being pummelled by the small fists of the savage S'Ondra.
"It not that –" he manages through gasps of pain as he tries to protect himself.
"Straighten your arm more!" S'Ondra calls to her counterpart.
"- it just need many fur. All you own. Very important."
"You need to follow through with your left!"
"Stop giving her hints!"
The old chief, watching his daughter flail away at Fury, gets a crafty expression in his eyes. He knows desperation when he sees it,
"Girl not enough." He says at last, then ducks as she turns and throws a clod of earth at him, "Need more if want all furs."
"We give you fire." Archie promises smoothly.
"What fire?"
"It good stuff." Fury takes advantage of savage S'Ondra's distraction with her father to grab her wrists, "It keep you warm."
"What 'warm'?"
"Venus has a proper temperature, Captain." S'Ondra rolls her eyes, "It doesn't get cold. We'll need a better reason than that."
"Blast it!" Fury shakes his head, "We could tell them about cooking, perhaps?"
"Not really." Archie shakes his head, "I don't think they'd really understand the value of properly cooked food. All the microbes it kills -"
"It make food keep longer!" Fury bursts out, looking pleased with himself, "Not go bad and make dying!"
The Chief considers this,
"Fire is good." He decides at last, "We make trade. But first you tell who she?" he points at S'Ondra, whose bottom lip wobbles.
"Is it right to trade a person?" Gustav interrupts, "Zis is not something zat we should do lightly. Selling a person is like slavery, ja? We should be asking her vot she wants."
"To be fair, Doctor, we are doing it to save their planet." Fury sighs, then turns his attention to savage S'Ondra, "Do you want to go back to your old tribe?" His only answer is a look of confusion, as the girl seems perplexed at the mere prospect of being asked her opinion.
"You have to go back to him!" the real S'Ondra bursts out, rushing over to her twin and grabbing her by the shoulders, "He's your father and you have a chance to be with him and love him and spend time with him and not have him dead but alive and know that he's proud of you!"
"We gods." Archie calmly tells the Chief, having realised that the man still needs an answer and that using the same lie as before is better than any of the alternatives, "We take people form. She choose your daughter." He points at the two S'Ondras, "But her mind go bad." He twirls his finger beside the glass dome that passes for his head, in the universal symbol for 'mad as a hatter'.
The chief shrugs, his curiosity apparently sated, and the trade is concluded. The four adventurers are seen off on their return journey by the chief and his daughter, who nestles in the crook of his arm as he waves them goodbye. Archie, laden with so many furs that his faceplate is concealed, is one of two crew members who does not wave back.
"Are you okay to see, old boy?" Fury asks him, watching the robot trundle around the various obstructions.
"Naturally." Archie sounds mildly offended, "I have simply recalibrated my vision wavelength to allow me to see through the fur material. I shall, however, need a thorough decontamination after this disgusting experience."
The other crew member that does not wave is S'Ondra, who stalks on ahead of the others, never once looking back. This way, no-one will see her tears.
The old man staggers slightly as S'Ondra races forward, throwing herself into his arms. A look of confusion crosses his face, growing to absolute bewilderment when he sees S'Ondra's savage counterpart, clinging timidly to Fury's arm.
"Really." Archie complains primly, "All this touching is quite unhygienic."
"Who you?" the elder Venusian manages at last, having succeeded in prying himself out of S'Ondra's gasp.
"I'm your daughter!" she wails in response, "But you're dead and I'd lost you but now you're not dead but not you!"
The old man takes a half step backwards,
"You not daughter. Her daughter –" he points at the savage S'Ondra, "- but her taken Cliff tribe. She belong them now."
S'Ondra, her eyes still brimming with tears, begins to recover herself a little,
"We bring her back." She says at last, "Belong you again."
"But how? She war-prize them, belong them. If you take, belong you. Not belong us."
"I don't think they understand that we want to return her," Fury says, then glances sharply at S'Ondra, "Not that I remember us actually discussing that –"
"She's his daughter!"
"- but I'm willing to accept it." The Captain ignores S'Ondra's interjection, "Regardless, I don't think he understands the idea of us giving her away. Let me try something."
Stepping forward, Fury points at the reality's S'Ondra,
"She ours, but we want trade. We give girl, you give furs. All happy."
"She not please you?" the elder Venusian asks in puzzlement. Fury struggles to reply, as he finds himself being pummelled by the small fists of the savage S'Ondra.
"It not that –" he manages through gasps of pain as he tries to protect himself.
"Straighten your arm more!" S'Ondra calls to her counterpart.
"- it just need many fur. All you own. Very important."
"You need to follow through with your left!"
"Stop giving her hints!"
The old chief, watching his daughter flail away at Fury, gets a crafty expression in his eyes. He knows desperation when he sees it,
"Girl not enough." He says at last, then ducks as she turns and throws a clod of earth at him, "Need more if want all furs."
"We give you fire." Archie promises smoothly.
"What fire?"
"It good stuff." Fury takes advantage of savage S'Ondra's distraction with her father to grab her wrists, "It keep you warm."
"What 'warm'?"
"Venus has a proper temperature, Captain." S'Ondra rolls her eyes, "It doesn't get cold. We'll need a better reason than that."
"Blast it!" Fury shakes his head, "We could tell them about cooking, perhaps?"
"Not really." Archie shakes his head, "I don't think they'd really understand the value of properly cooked food. All the microbes it kills -"
"It make food keep longer!" Fury bursts out, looking pleased with himself, "Not go bad and make dying!"
The Chief considers this,
"Fire is good." He decides at last, "We make trade. But first you tell who she?" he points at S'Ondra, whose bottom lip wobbles.
"Is it right to trade a person?" Gustav interrupts, "Zis is not something zat we should do lightly. Selling a person is like slavery, ja? We should be asking her vot she wants."
"To be fair, Doctor, we are doing it to save their planet." Fury sighs, then turns his attention to savage S'Ondra, "Do you want to go back to your old tribe?" His only answer is a look of confusion, as the girl seems perplexed at the mere prospect of being asked her opinion.
"You have to go back to him!" the real S'Ondra bursts out, rushing over to her twin and grabbing her by the shoulders, "He's your father and you have a chance to be with him and love him and spend time with him and not have him dead but alive and know that he's proud of you!"
"We gods." Archie calmly tells the Chief, having realised that the man still needs an answer and that using the same lie as before is better than any of the alternatives, "We take people form. She choose your daughter." He points at the two S'Ondras, "But her mind go bad." He twirls his finger beside the glass dome that passes for his head, in the universal symbol for 'mad as a hatter'.
The chief shrugs, his curiosity apparently sated, and the trade is concluded. The four adventurers are seen off on their return journey by the chief and his daughter, who nestles in the crook of his arm as he waves them goodbye. Archie, laden with so many furs that his faceplate is concealed, is one of two crew members who does not wave back.
"Are you okay to see, old boy?" Fury asks him, watching the robot trundle around the various obstructions.
"Naturally." Archie sounds mildly offended, "I have simply recalibrated my vision wavelength to allow me to see through the fur material. I shall, however, need a thorough decontamination after this disgusting experience."
The other crew member that does not wave is S'Ondra, who stalks on ahead of the others, never once looking back. This way, no-one will see her tears.
Capellan
Explorer
"Blast Off!" - Part 24
Back at the Pathfinder, the Venusians sit in a huge circle, diligently sewing the massive bag, while Doctor Gustav stands watching, and taking notes on their technique.
"My wife was an expert with ze needle." He confides to Archie.
"Indeed, Doctor." The robot answers by rote, while fastidiously picks through their rapidly dwindling pile of furs, "Did she perhaps tech you a stitch that would allow us to save four point eight square feet of material?"
"Nein., I was never very good at it, myself. I could never get ze thread into ze little hole."
"Oh dear." The robot sighs, then calls to Fury, "Captain, we have a problem!"
"So you've noticed as well?" Fury asks in a low voice, as he draws near, "She's been depressed ever since we got back. I made her a cup of tea - nothing cheers up a rainy day like a good cup - but it didn't seem to do any good -" he trails off as he realises that the robot's blank expression is somehow more blank than usual. "Ah, that is, what's the problem, old boy?"
"We do not have enough material for the bag."
"What?" Fury presses the heel of his hand to his forehead, "Damnation." Taking a deep sigh, he straightens up and prepares to take the bad news, "How much more do we need?
"Four point eight square feet."
"Excuse me?"
"Four point eight square feet."
"Four point eight."
"Yes."
"Square feet."
"Yes."
"I think I can solve your dilemma, old boy." Fury deftly unbuttons his shirt - something at which he seems to have had a great deal of practice - and proffers it to the robot, "Latest Space Force issue. Polyfibre weave that's guaranteed tear resistant." He grins, "Much to the ladies' distress."
"... thank you, Captain ..." Archie holds the garment at arm's length, then gingerly deposits it atop the furs, "That should suffice."
"Ah, leibchen!" Doctor Gustav calls to his foster-daughter, as she walks listlessly nearby, "Good news! We have enough of ze material to finish ze bag!"
"That's great, Doctor -" S'Ondra replies, eyes downcast, with a sigh, she looks up to say something more, but the words are forgotten as her gaze falls on the shirtless Fury.
"Isn't that wonderful news, Princess?" Fury flashes a smile and flexes his muscles, "And a wonderful sight, as well. The bag I mean. It's nearly done." He gestures at the huge mat of black furs, somehow contriving to flex again as he does so.
"It's, uh, great news." S'Ondra suddenly seems to find her own feet extremely interesting, though her gaze keeps making unconscious darts in Fury's direction. "So when are we leaving?"
"The bag will be complete in approximately one hour and fifteen minutes." Archie responds, "At that time, based on the projected suction of the Doctor's device -"
"It vill suck a lot!"
"- we will be able to gather all of the mould within two hours. Based on current growth rates, the bag will at that stage be filled to ninety-seven percent capacity, and we will need to be ready for immediate departure. Under the expected conditions it will only take ten minutes for the mould to multiply in sufficient quantities to burst the bag."
"Is that enough time?"
"I'm a fast worker, Princess." Fury promises.
"No doubt."
"It will be sufficient." Archie continues his analysis, "On an optimum course, clearing the atmosphere will require slightly less than eight minutes. In the frigid temperatures of space, the mould should not continue to multiply, and we will be able to safely make it to Earth."
"Provided zat ze bag does not burst from ze turbulence of ze ascent, of course."
"Yes, Doctor."
"But perhaps I can recalibrate ze gravitic shields to help protect ze bag." Gustav muses. He picks up a long stick and begins writing complex formulae in the dirt, "Of course, zat would vastly reduce ze protection to ze crew -"
"Doc, if the bag bursts, then it's all over for the home side." Fury pats the older man on the shoulder, "Make the changes as soon as the Pathfinder is free of the mould. We'll take our chances without the shields."
Back at the Pathfinder, the Venusians sit in a huge circle, diligently sewing the massive bag, while Doctor Gustav stands watching, and taking notes on their technique.
"My wife was an expert with ze needle." He confides to Archie.
"Indeed, Doctor." The robot answers by rote, while fastidiously picks through their rapidly dwindling pile of furs, "Did she perhaps tech you a stitch that would allow us to save four point eight square feet of material?"
"Nein., I was never very good at it, myself. I could never get ze thread into ze little hole."
"Oh dear." The robot sighs, then calls to Fury, "Captain, we have a problem!"
"So you've noticed as well?" Fury asks in a low voice, as he draws near, "She's been depressed ever since we got back. I made her a cup of tea - nothing cheers up a rainy day like a good cup - but it didn't seem to do any good -" he trails off as he realises that the robot's blank expression is somehow more blank than usual. "Ah, that is, what's the problem, old boy?"
"We do not have enough material for the bag."
"What?" Fury presses the heel of his hand to his forehead, "Damnation." Taking a deep sigh, he straightens up and prepares to take the bad news, "How much more do we need?
"Four point eight square feet."
"Excuse me?"
"Four point eight square feet."
"Four point eight."
"Yes."
"Square feet."
"Yes."
"I think I can solve your dilemma, old boy." Fury deftly unbuttons his shirt - something at which he seems to have had a great deal of practice - and proffers it to the robot, "Latest Space Force issue. Polyfibre weave that's guaranteed tear resistant." He grins, "Much to the ladies' distress."
"... thank you, Captain ..." Archie holds the garment at arm's length, then gingerly deposits it atop the furs, "That should suffice."
"Ah, leibchen!" Doctor Gustav calls to his foster-daughter, as she walks listlessly nearby, "Good news! We have enough of ze material to finish ze bag!"
"That's great, Doctor -" S'Ondra replies, eyes downcast, with a sigh, she looks up to say something more, but the words are forgotten as her gaze falls on the shirtless Fury.
"Isn't that wonderful news, Princess?" Fury flashes a smile and flexes his muscles, "And a wonderful sight, as well. The bag I mean. It's nearly done." He gestures at the huge mat of black furs, somehow contriving to flex again as he does so.
"It's, uh, great news." S'Ondra suddenly seems to find her own feet extremely interesting, though her gaze keeps making unconscious darts in Fury's direction. "So when are we leaving?"
"The bag will be complete in approximately one hour and fifteen minutes." Archie responds, "At that time, based on the projected suction of the Doctor's device -"
"It vill suck a lot!"
"- we will be able to gather all of the mould within two hours. Based on current growth rates, the bag will at that stage be filled to ninety-seven percent capacity, and we will need to be ready for immediate departure. Under the expected conditions it will only take ten minutes for the mould to multiply in sufficient quantities to burst the bag."
"Is that enough time?"
"I'm a fast worker, Princess." Fury promises.
"No doubt."
"It will be sufficient." Archie continues his analysis, "On an optimum course, clearing the atmosphere will require slightly less than eight minutes. In the frigid temperatures of space, the mould should not continue to multiply, and we will be able to safely make it to Earth."
"Provided zat ze bag does not burst from ze turbulence of ze ascent, of course."
"Yes, Doctor."
"But perhaps I can recalibrate ze gravitic shields to help protect ze bag." Gustav muses. He picks up a long stick and begins writing complex formulae in the dirt, "Of course, zat would vastly reduce ze protection to ze crew -"
"Doc, if the bag bursts, then it's all over for the home side." Fury pats the older man on the shoulder, "Make the changes as soon as the Pathfinder is free of the mould. We'll take our chances without the shields."
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