Sea or Sugar
This night we set sail for the distant beaches of Revere. Hoo-ah!
We embarked ten doughty pilots, dropping to nine (on average fractionally doughtier) pilots as Metoikos burned up near the Sullivan mega black hole. Flying by the power plant we saw the rarest of sights: LIVE SPACE WEEVIL. We gazed in wonder at the opossumoidal being. It gazed back, saying nothing.
After a brief stretch of luxuriating in new space paving on Route 99 (complete with new starship travel lane, navigators take note!), we turned eastward into the dark and turbulent territory of Everett System. Enormous space potholes, megalithic transports, the hair-raisingly tacky King Arthur, immense heaps of God knows what, terrifying bridges...I don't know how we survived. The local food was inexperienced but supportive, and in the end we made it through to Revere Beach.
We summoned our gravitas and promenaded down the strip in a stately fashion, accepting accolades left and right. Then with some delay and difficulty, we procured food molecules from the locals.
Ships on a beach! Ships in the ocean! Catastrophe kicking up a big ol' rooster tail...uh oh, giant floodlight! It turns out Reveeehan STs are unpleasantly vocal in their disapproval of ships on the beach and in the ocean. But they let Bane Thunderwolf go in...where is the justice?
Refreshed, and some with damp Thunderpants, we headed north to visit a planet of Epoxy's choosing. The surroundings got so posh that the very air tasted of Chanel #5, and there were free sparkly unicorns cavorting on the private beaches. A curious transport of arcane, archaic make nearly claimed half the mission with its fascination, but in the end we broke free. We marked the waypoint, then hoisted our lightsails for home.
The lightyears rolled by in perfect night weather. Luna after luna was closed. There were no donuts. At last, as we returned past the King Arthur, a great light dawned: the Dunkies next door is 24-hour. DONUTS! All was good.
And from there we returned to base without further incident. This mission failed, as its one concrete objective was to not get kicked off the beach, but by Crom we claimed the turf. Epoxy turned in a fine showing as a novice navigator, and the rest of us kept morale up and ships in flight, just as it should be.