(no subject)

It had been a busy day for Dirk. So far he had performed a number of great
tunes for the people in Parrott's, as well as getting rid of that annoying
mechanical bird with a well place magnet, and created elaborate equipment for a
rare and tricky procedure for making an android almost completly human out of
damn near nothing. Not to mention he was still able to make the Flying
Leathernecks at the cinema. Yep, it had been one hell of a day.
But it wasn't over just yet. An uneasiness was overtaking him. Something
wasn't right.
"Where ya' been?" Dirk yelled as he saw Dren walking towards him.
Dren smiled, "Been takin' care of business, if you know what I mean?"
"Your lady friend again, eh?"
The usually grungy third-technician was dressed to the nines, or six and seven
eigths considering his pay and choice in clother. He was all smiles as he ran
his fingers back through his hair, "Just call me Cassanova." He did a little
dance in the middle of the floor. "How about you? What have you been up to?
Probably not as much as me." He kept dancing.
"No, not as much as you. Just did a couple of sets at the bar, fought with a
renegade novelty parrot, and saved a machines life, or whatever."
"Loser," Dren started to do the robot with the intent of teasing Dirk.
The dance was all for naught, though. Dirk's attention suddenly went off into
space. His gaze, as though it went through the hull of the ship, pierced into
the vast blackness. He was far away, yet there at the same time.
"Hey! What is it? Something wrong?" Dren asked after noticing Dirk's lack of
attention at his rendition of Mr. Roboto.
"Something's wrong," he responded. "It's as though a million voices cried out
at once,....and then,... suddenly stopped."
"What?!"
"BBBBUUUUURRRRPPPPP!!!!" Dirk pounded his chest with his fist. "Then again, it
could have been that burrito I had for lunch."
"How about a beer?"
"Sounds good." The two walked off down the corridor.
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