Departing Dashington Station
“You are the loveliest thing I can ever recall seeing,” you say, entirely honestly, “But in truth I can recall so little! I’m afraid that discovering my identity must be my first priority, even above the temptation to touch your really amazing boobs.”
“Ah, well,” the diva sighs. “I believe I can aid you there! I have a personal shuttle, and we could journey out into space together, in search of your identity!â€
The notion is both romantic and appealing, and you instantly depart the station.
Unfortunately, a bare space-mile from the station you are attacked by marauding mercenaries, who perhaps have something to do with the Silver Marauder who you so abruptly incapacitated! Despite your best efforts, you are vastly out-numbered and out-armed.
“Oh dear,” you think, as a phaser missile blows your helpless ship to smithereens. “Perhaps I was somewhat precipitate in my earlier action?”
Perhaps you were!
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