[With the trusty and reliable onboard Compute-O-Tron 9000 chattering away, Lazlo sifts through the tape output and scrutinizes the latest round of calculations.]
“I cannot believe I’m about to do this. We finally get a shot at a proper dustup, a shot at a proper hat, and here I am runnin’ numbers. Maybe I been listenin’ to that Falkayn character too long, but Tidewalker’s mandibles - this opportunity is just too good to pass up.”
“Station? Didn’t See That Coming. We’re gonna need a load of sandfish. We’re gonna need all the sandfish you got. And then we’re gonna need some more. Twenty two standard galactic shipping units. Yup. That’s right. Twenty two. Look, I’m serious. Just take 'em as far as the bay, I’ll use the loader to bring 'em aboard myself. Yes. I know about the … yes. I’ll get 'em aboard ASAP. Shouldn’t overload the scrubbers. Right. Thanks.”
[The Longshorebots trundle to and fro, delivering a pungent bounty of sandfish to Bay 28. Lazlo works quickly to bring the cargo aboard. Painstakingly, he pushes crates to the edge of the cargo bay first, the next crates closer to the center - always careful not to disturb the ship’s center of mass any more than necessary. After a hard afternoon of space labor, he rests his claws on his cephalothorax and beams with colorful pride at the well-organized crates of sandfish in his cargo bay.]
“Now that is what I call a proper poisson distribution!”
b220 | Mission 1 - Fish On!
= b120 | 12x crates of sandfish
= b100 | 10x crates of sandfish on credit
Pilot Lazlo “Scuttle” Deepwalker of the Didn’t See That Coming.
