driftfleet | i'm a space cowboy, bet you weren't ready for that

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i'm a space cowboy, bet you weren't ready for that

Who: Han Solo + anyone on the Caprine
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Also yes
When: right before/after the 2/10 Shuffle

[ It's just about Han's luck that he, uh. Oversleeps.

That is to say, he wakes up on the Marsiva and has barely enough time to get his bearings-- to find his blaster missing and sidle over to the wide windows in the viewing bay to stare out at the unfamiliar stars-- before--

Okay, he actually has no idea before what. What happens. One minute he is quietly, definitely not panicking about the fact that he has no idea where he is, and then he's somewhere else with less idea of where he is, and confetti.

It takes him a few minutes more to catch up and (sort of) figure out the communicator, and by the time he actually tries to reach out, he looks visibly harried. ]

Okay, look, I really don't have time for whatever this is... And where is my ship?!

[ Because that is definitely the most. important. question. of all! ]

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[A kid with huge pointy ears is probably not ranked very high on the alien meter.]

As you are doubtless already aware, [he says in a prim and dry British accent,] it has been left behind in the time and place you were taken from. And there it shall remain until the day you are lucky enough to be returned to it.

[ Chances are Han would be less comfortable without non-human races around. That's usually a hallmark of Imperials, and in his experience the best thing to do with Imperials is keep them at a distance and potentially fill that distance with lasers. ]

That's what people say. It sounds crazy. But everyone's been pretty consistent in their crazy. So if nothing else you're all really organized.

[Imperials usually means Garleans on his world, which... same, honestly.]

They have some control over dimensions, it seems. 'Twould be difficult for me to believe had I not experienced the effects firsthand.

We exist and yet we do not exist, somehow living outside the stream of time. Supposedly we are puppets dancing for some audience's benefit but I have yet to see any real proof. T'is more likely our captors' true purpose is something far more sinister.

Who'd want to watch a bunch of strangers stuck on subpar spaceships, anyway?

The thought that someone derives joy from our suffering is sickening, though not altogether surprising. But without proof I am loathe to believe it.

A more serious matter that no one has touched upon as of yet: do not touch the object implanted into the back of your neck. Doing so will cause you great pain, and continuing to abuse it will kill you.

What's it do?

It feeds us information. I do not come from a place where people traverse the stars, but I can still carry out my duties aboard this ship. It passed on some general knowledge of how things work-- so unobtrusively, in fact, that I only discovered this upon deep reflection.

Of note is that we can understand any language spoken to us despite being dimensions and universes apart. I find it highly unlikely that your common language would match mine, and yet here we are.

[ He hasn't even thought about the language thing, though in his defense he understands quite a few languages without an implant. ]

You're from somewhere with no space travel?

[ That sounds... horrible. ]

That is correct. Some have perfected the art of travel between dimensions, but such 'freedom' comes at the cost of one's life and physical form. It cannot be compared to travel like this, where instead of waves, we sail among the stars.

That doesn't really seem perfected to me.

For them, their goal is more important than life itself. They do live eternally in a sense, but it is as servants to their void god.

[It's clear that he has no love for these people.]

Well that's charming.

Quite. But you come from a universe where interstellar travel is the norm?

Sure. I mean, there are landlocked planets but not many that don't get some kind of traffic.

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i'm a space cowboy, bet you weren't ready for that

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