Romancing The Rod: A Problem Arises

[CALDARI PRIME. Beneath a pitiless slate sky, camera drones race across a plateau of shattered rock and artificial ruin. The small machines deftly dodge embers between columns of acrid smoke as they press relentlessly into the heart of the storm. Beneath their hum, eviscerated bodies sink into the ignominy of futile war. Cresting a ridge, the drones swirl through ruined superstructures, down, down to a sunless, churning sea of waste and rainwater. Along its shores, Sebiestor underwear models in ripped boxer briefs affixed with bunny tails strike ineffectively at the desecrated earth with shiny mattocks. Appearing suddenly above them on an off-kilter terrace, a bent crone clings to the crooked arm of her towering cylindrical kameira for balance.]

Good news, everyone!

Do you remember that movie, you know, the one a while back, it was something like, oh, I'm not quite sure, I think it was... yes! Yes! That one: Blood Raiders of the Lost Temple of Death. That one. Do you remember the scene where the villains were digging in the wrong place? Oh! It's just the most amazing coincidence, Bunnies!

We're digging in the wrong place, too!

Tie an altar boy to the mantle and diddle him with a baster, would you believe it!? Not even just the wrong place, but the wrong planet - orbiting the wrong star! And more is the pity. Tibbus and his lads did such a wonderful job softening up the ground, here. Well, can't be helped - foot massages and warm oil tummy rubs for everyone!

Back to the ship! Fast march!

I love fast march.