Concordance Station’s nefarious cab driver, Buteo, runs into trouble on the flight deck…


Concordance Station Flight Deck

A high, broad chamber that serves as the flight prep and launch deck for the Concordance Station colony ship. A blister module high atop the port wall, above the entrance, serves as the control tower. To starboard, a wide slit opens onto the blackness of space. The cargo bay is aft. A muster room is fore.

Burn marks and rubble from broken vessels litter the area.

Buteo Limousines Cab – 9327 fires its braking thrusters as it arrives.

Buteo Limousines Cab – 9327 whirs to a stop near the shuttle arrivals platform.

Urfkgar shrugs and says, “Yup. Urf mosterer goodererer. Urf want carrots. Urf eatededed all carrots. Urf no go morerer. Urf do work stuff.”

Buteo Limousines Cab – 9327 whirs near the shuttle arrivals platform.

Neilson chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Urf, yer certainly interestin’. Why don’tcha jus’ get some more carrots if ya want ’em?”

Urfkgar clacks his teeth together and grumbles, “Urf sayededed. Urf do work stuff. Urf no stupid softskin grabass. Urf do work stuff. Urf do work stuff.”

Melody enters from the customs room, steps slow and shaky. In one olive hued hand she holds a pair of wire-rimmed glasses while the other wipes her tear-stained cheeks free of moisture.

The yellow hoverlimo honks its horn repeatedly.

“No – Hero that is most uncalled for!” comes a muffled shout from inside the hoverlimo.

Neilson laughs. “Grabass. Right.” He shakes his head.

Urfkgar shrugs and says, “Yup.” Then, he looks over at the limo and grumbles, “Stupid floaty thingy honky morerer. Stupid floaty thingy.”

Something flaps around the interior of the hoverlimo, squawking angrily and batting at the head of the driver. “Oh why must you disgrace loving Buteo so? Do I not care for you? Keep you fed? Change the papers in your cage? No! No! Not on the back seat…oh, Hero, most terrible!”

Melody turns her head to the honking hoverlimo, narrowing her eyebrows slightly as she mentally debates the familiarity of the voice. However, the moment’s only brief and she keeps on walking and making sure no tears remain on her face, sniffling.

Neilson glances over at the limo. To Urf, he mutters, “Yeah, stupid floaty thingy.”

Urfkgar scratches at his shoulder for awhile. looking strange, maybe thoughtful. Whatever the case is, he says, “Stupid floaty thingy morerer goodererer. No seererers. No seererer no honky. No honky. Urf no bash. No seererers. Urf bash.”

Melody stops for a moment so she can rightfully ease her glasses back onto her face, adjusting them upon her nose for a comfortable set position. Now that her wire-rims have returned to their ‘place’, she lets her slighly red and puffy hazel eyes take in the full sight of the hoverlimo.

The VES Minerva taxis in, firing its vector rockets.

The confrontation between bird and driver continues and the hoverlimo begins to whir seemingly on its own away from the platform and toward the Minerva.

“Okay, I lost ya there, Urf,” Neilson says, grinning. “But I’ll take yer word for it.”

“Hero – bad bird! BAD! See what you make Buteo do!?” comes the muffled cry from within the hoverlimo just before it veers and hammers into a stack of cargo crates that topple spilling electronic components on the deck.

Urfkgar points towards the hoverlimo, grunting, “Goodererer smash.” After a second or so of pause, the Zangali breaks out into a jog towards the moving limo.

Startled at the noise created from the limo’s crash, coupled with her already fried nerves, Melody jumps back in surprise. She blinks a few times, seeing if she imagined the whole incident.

Neilson groans, setting off at a jog behind Urf. “Yeah, dat’s a gooderer smash,” he grumbles in confirmation.

The hoverlimo’s door hisses open as it comes to rest among the chaotic sprawl of wrecked containers, and an osprey flaps its wings gracefully as it lofts toward the rafters of the flight deck.

Melody keeps her eyes trained on the wiley bird, craning her neck as she follows the osprey up to the rafters of the flight deck. She shields her vision from the artificial lighting with one of her hands.

Urfkgar slides into an ungainly stop once he’s near the hoverlimo, still managing to run into the side. He uses this to his advantage, hitting it lightly with his fist. Then, he says, “Stupid softskin mosterererer stupid? No go! Stupid floaty thingy floaty. No go!”

Buteo emerges from the limo, staggering, seemingly surprised by the scaly wall that materializes out of nowhere as he thumps into Urfkgar, then stumbles back and sprawls in the front seat of the cab.

Neilson comes to a considerably more graceful stop than Urf, asking, “Hey, you okay?” of the driver.

Urfkgar shakes his head and says, “Urf sayededed no go.”

Buteo sits up slowly, rubbing his reddened nose – not bloody, just reddened. He remains seated in the car, looking up at Urfkgar, shaking his head. “An accident is all. Buteo meant no harm. Hero.” He shakes a fist at the rafters, scowling. “Buteo shall have his revenge, mon ami!”

Melody’s studious hazel orbs remain transfixed upon the bird in the rafters, almost as if the animal was hypnotic to her senses.

Neilson sighs. “Ya wanna take a trip down ta medbay, get checked out?” he asks, voice a little weary-sounding.

Urfkgar takes a brief look up towards the rafters himself, apparently rather doubtful. He tells Buteo, “Stupid softskin no floaty.”

Kavian exits from the Weathered Storm.

Melody pulls her chin down, lowering her face to peer at the flight deck – mostly to check on the position of the Minerva. Once noted, she looks back up to the rafters.

Buteo smiles faintly at Neilson. “You are most kind to make the offer of medical treatment to one so unworthy as Buteo, but I must decline. Although Buteo’s pride surely suffered crippling injury from this incident, I am otherwise intact despite the best efforts of my feathered companion.” He rubs the bridge of his nose with two fingers, looking up at Urfkgar from where he’s sitting on the front seat of the hovercab. “You, my good Zangali, are most solid.”

Kavian steps out of the CVH, scanner in one hand as he looks across the deck with concern.

Urfkgar shrugs and says, “Yup. Urf no floaty gooderer. Stupid softskin no floaty goodererer. Stupid honky floaty thingy floaty gooderer.”

The bay doors begin to slide open as the VES Minerva prepares for departure …

The VES Minerva fires its engines as it departs through the docking bay doors.

Neilson smirks. “Alrighty,” he says, pulling a datapad from his back pocket. He makes a few quick taps into it and offers it to Buteo. “Thumbprint, please.”

Down from the rafters flaps a frazzle-feathered osprey that settles upon the instinctively outstretched arm of Buteo, who scowls at the bird just as the bird SQUAWKS! and pecks frantically at the datapad.

Kavian raises an eyebrow at the commotion, following the bird’s path to the small gathering. “Minerva sent word something was up here. Everything okay?”

Urfkgar shrugs and waves vaguely towards the wrecked containers and electronic components that strew the area around the hoverlimo. He says, “Smashededed goodererer.”

Neilson cringes, pulling the datapad back and taking a step back himself. “Jesus, what da hell is dat thing?”

VES Minerva begins to rotate toward Demaria, thruster pulses sending her in the right direction. A flare from the engines and she’s on her way, clipping toward the grainy world.

Buteo waggles a finger at the osprey. “Buteo has told you about this before, Hero! Unacceptable behavior! You embarrass Buteo before these good people!” He huffs. The bird relents in its pecking, ruffles its feathers and blinks before staring toward the departing Minerva. Buteo obediently presses his thumb on the datapad, then follows the indication of the Zangali. “Yes, that was a most unfortunate effect of this misadventure. Buteo is terribly sorry and will make whatever recompense is required of him – or, perhaps, I could be of some useful service to the good employees of Concordance Security?” He beams broadly, blinking.

Melody’s eyes widen instinctively at the all too familiar sound of the Minerva departing from Concordance. “W-wait…” The girl gasps out, settling into a slumped and dejected posture, head hanging, as the ship has disappears from sight. Shaking her head to herself, she lets out a sigh.

VES Minerva passes near Demaria, turning in a wide U-turn back toward Concordance, though she slows considerably.

Kavian frowns at the mess, then at the the limo, then at the bird. “I’m fairly certain I don’t want to know. I take it nobody’s hurt…”

Urfkgar grunts and says, “Yup. No basheded. Smashededed. Urf no want stupid mudbrainededed softskin no gooderer floaty thingy.”

Startled but contented with the thumbprint, Neilson tucks his datapad back into his pocket. “Great.”

Buteo blinks again, struggling to comprehend the Zangali. “Buteo wants only to provide a valuable service in exchange for his momentary incompetence. I see and hear many things in my travels throughout the station…” The bird on his arm squawks.

Melody chews on her bottom lip, thinking frantically. Her hands manage to conveniently find themselves at the zipper of the girl’s jacket, clasping and unhooking it sporadically.

The enormous bay doors slowly begin to slide open …

Kavian turns to face Buteo, smiling diplomatically. “I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm. We’ll see about the damages incurred and forward the pertinent information to you. As for your assistance…that might be something to consider. We’ll get back to you on that as well.”

Through the bay doors, the VES Minerva comes in and docks.

The VES Minerva fires is vector rockets and taxis to Military Vessel Hangar .

Buteo nods to Kavian. “Buteo certainly meant no harm, but I cannot speak for Hero in this matter, for he is temperamental and often of a contrary nature.” He furrows his brow at the osprey on his arm. “Buteo suspects Hero will ride with him in a cage should you maintain such terrible behavior.” Hero squawks indignantly.

“Well, seein’ as ya have it all in hand,” Neilson says, “I’m gettin’ back on my way.” He nods curtly to the group and heads for the customs corridor.

Melody jerks her head face-forward to the opening bay doors, revealing the sight of the Minerva gliding in to the Military Vessel Hangar. Not wanting to miss the universe-given opportunity, the girl hurriedly speed walks in the direction of the said hangar.

Kavian nods back to Neilson as he goes. “Thanks.” He then turns back to Buteo, tilting his head to the side. “So the bird was responsible for this?”

Buteo smiles sheepishly. “Buteo admits that this was, in fact, the case. Hero has limited willpower when confronted with an attractive female, and he was rather insistent about honking the horn, you see? Buteo struggled with Hero, but Hero is stubborn, and the drive became engaged, and…” He jerks his head toward the sprawl of wrecked crates. “This.”

Urfkgar points to his eyes and says, “No seerererers. No smash.”

Kavian nods slowly, his face becoming more stern. “I see. Then I really must insist that you keep your pet in a cage if you absolutely /must/ take him along on your drives. Had this been earlier in the day there could have been much more dire consequences to your arguement with the bird.” he glances at the Zangali. “I think that’s a little extreme, Urf…”

Buteo gulps, smiles uneasily, then nods emphatically. “Yes, of course, Buteo will get Hero a cage for safe portability. Buteo will go now and trouble you no longer, if that is your wish? Buteo is but your humble servant.”

Urfkgar shrugs, not looking entirely convinced. He says, “No smash Urf.”

Kavian nods and motions to the limo. “Please do. We’ll have the cleanup crew some see about this, and we’ll be in touch regarding expenses. Have a pleasant and /safe/ evening, sir.”

Buteo bows faintly, gesticulating with a flourish using his free hand. He then scrambles into the cab, while Hero hops up onto a well-clawed seatback.

The door hisses downward on the hoverlimo.

Urfkgar shakes his head and moves towards customs, keeping an eye on the limo.

Kavian sighs, shaking his head as well as he starts to activate his comm. “Wonder if Glim’s has chicken…”

Buteo Limousines Cab – 9327 activates the hoverengines and backs away from the wreckage of the crates then carefully traces an arc toward the civilian vessel hangar.