Status: Success
Hallowheels: Neon Blood
Hallowheels! The time when the veil between our world and the realm of the supernatural is thrust aside allowing for all manner of spectral anomalies to emerge - entire planets plunging into darkness; nebulas boiling in the heat of a thousand suns; the dead rising from the grave; human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together - mass hysteria! When creatures crawl in search of blood - neon blood - it's time for the mighty Starchasers to bust the funk and restore order to the intergalactic posifunkitude.
Sixteen pilots, space monsters, and sky pirates embarked on a chromasonic journey into sugary madness, performing various tricks for treats, and infusing the necrosphere with a healthy dose of big dance energy. Starchasers Unintelligence Division intercepted a distress signal emanating from Planet X, and it was up to us to answer the call. Flying at the speed of funk, we made our way through the Buttonwood Constellation, narrowly escaping the gravitational pull of the Barnard Memorial Blackhole, and navigating through an especially dark wormhole devoid of all light but the warm glowing glow of our glowing lasers.
As we entered orbit around Harrington Park, SheRa's port booster misfired just in time for a totally planned and completely scheduled shore leave. While the crew assessed the damage, chalk bag was deployed, candy bag was activated, and Civitron collected scans of each pilot to update SCULfleet records. Field engineers determined the booster was fully stripped and required repairs beyond the capabilities of tool bag. So, the mission leader advised Zardoz to accompany his cadet back to base to swap ships and rendezvous with the fleet on Planet X.
The airspace surrounding our destination was eerily silent. Omniluminiscent swirls painted the walls of the installation. Indigenous lifeforms, dragons, and various beasts of unusual size stood awestruck by the magnificent Starchaser fleet. However, ship sensor readings indicated a surge of percussive rhythmosis originating just beneath the planet's surface. It was there we would discover an alien-filled funk palace devoted to the worship of the ever-loving chromasonic groove!
We split up to mingle and explore this gallery of x. The locals were welcoming and offered us fuel to power our ships for the flight home as well as steering dampening fluid to challenge us. Soon, we re-connected with our friends and they joined in on the fun! We found the experience intoxicating. Between the beams of stardust and waves of pure bliss, we found a commonality with the people of this strange and savage planet. We found it almost overwhelmingly difficult to leave but as with all good things, our time here had to come to an end. After all, a ship in harbor is safe but that is not what ships are built for. We are a space faring people and it was time to get back to it.
On the steps of this great temple, the Starchasers assembled to weigh anchor but first it was time for the Division Admiral to bestow upon his babies the gift of two mission exclusive holographic stickers and award some prizes! Of course, all pilots on this mission earned the beloved "Medal of Chic" for their masterful space suit disguises but there can be only one victor in the eyes of the Subspace Oracle. The collective voice of the interconnected network of instant telegramers had awarded 3rd prize to Ledgehammer on Banana Bag, 2nd prize to Batfish as Scarecrow, and 1st prize to Beanstalk as Joker! Congratulations Starchasers!
At last, it was time to begin the final leg of our journey. Through the DNB Quadrant, along the tentacular limbs of the Octopus, and back toward the Buttonwood Constellation. Grooving along to the music of the night, we reentered the wormhole, passing the nebula, and into a secret expanse for one final taste of twilight before returning to the launchpad.
Following the debriefing, the Division Admiral invited everyone back to Starchasers Headquarters for warm fuel molecules and a screening of the film "Psychomania" presented by the Midnight Romero Society. And as the light of the projector danced across the interior walls of the fort, the sounds of zombie bikers pulsing through the radiobox of the FTL Starfire, DAdm Civitron's heart was filled with a magical love as he looked around at the smiling faces of his friends.