Mutton

Who: Phil's team
Where: New New New Zealand
When: Shortly after last post
The whole team had made their way down through the thick layer of
sheep covering the planet, and had entered the small run-down shack
the NNNZealanders were seeking refuge in. The shack had peeling white
paint, smelt of lentils and sausages, and had a small makeshift gun
turret poking through one of the walls.
"I, er, like what you've done with the place." murmured Kara
"So, you guy's received our distress signal. Well, as you can see, we
have a slight situation on our hands." said the leader of the New
Zealanders.
"Not to mention your hills, your valleys, your ocean, your homes, and,
well, your planet in general." said Mk.8, unimpressed.
"Well, we export sheep-related products to every planet in the area.
To keep up with demand, we need to clone them constantly. Problem is,
one of the cloning machines has gone out of control."
"It could be sabotage by those guys who destroyed New New Zealand.
They seem pretty fanatical." suggested Phil
"That's what we were afraid of."
Mk.8 saw his opportunity. He disliked New Zealanders greatly, no
matter how many 'New's were in the front. Any opportunity to exploit
them to his own ends was not something he could pass up.
"Say. We have a few things we have to gather up. If we take care of
this little fiasco, could you grab 'em for us?"
He gestured to Chris, who passed the list to the New Zealander.
"Well, we can't get ALL of it; wrong planet. But we can get you a few
of them. If that's good enough for you, we got a deal."
"That ok with you guys?" asked Mk.8, turning to the rest of the team.
He received agreeing nods, and turned back to the New Zealanders.
"We have a deal." he said, shaking the hand of the NZ leader, and
drifted back outside.
He called back inside for Phil.
"Yeah?" asked Phil.
"Can you give me a hand with something? Way I see it, were gonna need
a bit more fire-power if we're gonna take out a militia group." said
Mk.8, before leading the way back to the 'Flying Circus'.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Mk.8 floated into the cargo bay coming to a stop next to the object he
had brought aboard before takeoff. As Phil stepped in Mk.8 flung away
the sheet covering the object.
"Ah, now I get it. 'Mk.9' I presume."
"Yeah, I built it myself." said Mk.8 before letting out a sigh.
"Gonna have to change all my stationary again. Dammit."
Mk.8 eased off his Anti-Grav, and landed next to his new body.
"Now, Phil, just plug that USB 64.8 cable into the port in the back of
my head, and I'll begin the transfer."
Phil did as such. The other end of the cable was attached to Mk.9.
Mk.8's eye faded into blackness, as the eye on Mk.9 began to light up.
Slowly, he stood up, and checked all his limbs.
"Mobility seems fine, all circuits working optimally."
Mk.9 bent down and grabbed whatever weaponry he could from his past
shell and armed his in-built RPG-launcher* and SMG.
"Let's go." Said Mk.9.
He then tripped over a lead pipe lying on the cargo bay floor.
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RPG-launcher* - Rocket-Propelled Grenade Launcher