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The Chief-Administrator rushed down the stairs, beads of sweat dripping from his bipedal shark-like body. Not a strong shark, neither, but the kinda warpy kind you get when sharks evolve in marshlands and with chemical and nuclear waste dumped into their oceans for millenia as megacorporation use the planet as an illegal dump without strict Republic oversight, or indeed due to the wreckages in Ploo IV's deep ocean from an ancient Mandalorian war against the rest of the galaxy. There is a Quermian historian on Ploo IV that really has a unique insight into the evolutionary strain of the Fluggrians.. but I digresss..
<"Late Night Science with Long-Necked Lonny, only on Klenn Channel Eight!">
Morwu passed the screens showing commercials for the television station he owned, which made him chief-administrator in the first place, and now finally reached the underwater train. The entire station was in a sort of leaky bubble. The smell was clearly due to dormant puddles of water and the sound of water droplets falling from the ceiling was unmissable.
Unfortunately it would take a minute before the train arrived, so Morwu took out his DT-12 blaster pistol turned around towards the stairs and tried his best to strike an imposing figure.
Then Dusty Daytona showed up. "Dusty!" Morwu cried, his blaster pistol pointed in the Glymphid's general direction but wasn't yet aimed at thim. Morwu wasn't a trained marksman, after all. He was a politician and media mogul. "Kriffing Glymphid TRASH! You destroyed my cannon!"
@Fantasy Liver @Darasuum @Nor'baal
<"Late Night Science with Long-Necked Lonny, only on Klenn Channel Eight!">
Morwu passed the screens showing commercials for the television station he owned, which made him chief-administrator in the first place, and now finally reached the underwater train. The entire station was in a sort of leaky bubble. The smell was clearly due to dormant puddles of water and the sound of water droplets falling from the ceiling was unmissable.
Unfortunately it would take a minute before the train arrived, so Morwu took out his DT-12 blaster pistol turned around towards the stairs and tried his best to strike an imposing figure.
Then Dusty Daytona showed up. "Dusty!" Morwu cried, his blaster pistol pointed in the Glymphid's general direction but wasn't yet aimed at thim. Morwu wasn't a trained marksman, after all. He was a politician and media mogul. "Kriffing Glymphid TRASH! You destroyed my cannon!"
@Fantasy Liver @Darasuum @Nor'baal