Get Committed to the Asylum
SCUL has finally been committed to an Asylum. We always hoped it would end up like this, especially because we're talking about the Artisan's Asylum on Planet Joy. The wardens do promise they'll let us out for missions.
Silent running is a thing of the past -- huzzah! And add to that huzzah a "boom chicka-boom-boom", a "w0000000000000t", two too-groovy bass lines, three trumpet voluntaries, and a Fozzy style "waka-waka" -- not to mention an entire session of Prime Ministers Questions with Clinton and Parliament.
We packed our physical objects into a series of transports, much larger on the inside than the outside. After a brief jaunt through hyperspace, we re-compressed into our new surroundings, a bit tired from the journey, and in need of bar nuts and a towel.
We explored our new sub-sector of space as Q navimigated us on an experimental reconnoitering mission to explore our new sub-sector of space on an exploratory mission of reconnaissance. (Hmmm, I think there's still some apparent out-of-phase signal delay from the hyperspace jump -- must get to that soon.)
The space-lanes nearby are wide and largely open, with a few useful arteries to get us from hither to yon. We encountered beautiful industrial vistas, including an entire nebula / asteroid belt filled with dihydrogen monoxide! (Sure beats the 19980222x - 20030929w methane storms on Venus!)
After a long mechanical, it was time to return from our journey and respond to a distress call right near our new headquarters.
Our fleet's worth of lasers and sonic disruption systems proved a welcome relief to those earth-lings who had no idea what to do with the black-hole opening up right next to their dance-floor. Our orbital formations proved beyond funk-busting, and many hi-fives were earned in rotation.
After some much needed groove, we chopped our way back to our new home planet -- and enjoyed the sound of our super-sweet posisonic landing pad.