Backwater Corridors

Who: The Medical Staff and Patients
Where: Corridors
When: During the mechanical madness
There was another loud crashing as the top part of the ceiling dropped
away directly above the robot and a dusty looking Shakespeare
descended from upon high, landing on top of the murderous machine.
"Dieth foul monstrosity!" Shakespeare shouted, pounding the top of the
mechanical menace with his bare fists.
There was a plethora of sparks and fizzes as Shakespeare beating took
its toll on the robot, before finally and with one last resounding
whirr it stopped moving and dropped to the floor.
"Now iteth ist thy safe," he said to a stunned looking Keto.
Twenty minutes later, Keto was feeling anything BUT safe.
The medical staff had carefully made their way along the various
maze-like corridors that extended around behind Keto's quarters. It
should have been a relatively simple matter to find their way back to
the main ship corridors, but they were somewhat hampered by the fact
that Keto kept pausing every minute to yell something at Shakespeare,
Wildflower, the Tree, or in fact any hapless staff member or patient
who happened to wander within ten feet of him.
This, added to the fact that the corridors they were in were BEHIND
the main crew quarters and thus not very well used, meant that after
twenty minutes of walking it became apparent that they were all very
badly lost in a maze of twisty little corridors, all alike.
"Whence goeth we now, Charles?" asked Shakespeare as Keto paused at
yet another corridor junction, which looked identical to all the
corridor junctions they had previously walked through, albeit with a
slightly different layout of dust.
"Away," growled Keto, turning around. The medical staff stood behind
him, looking around uncertainly. Behind them, the line of patients
spread away, each one walking at a different speed depending on how
severely injured they were.
It might have been a good idea, Keto mused, to have treated the
patients back in his quarters. Well, no point in crying over spilt
milk, or injured patients.
"Does anybody have ANY idea where we are now?" he asked, sighing heavily.
"A corridor," replied Wildflower helpfully.
"Aboardst thy Blue Dwarf," added Shakespeare.
"You're both going on my list," snapped Keto, "Does anybody ELSE have
any idea where we are?"
Nobody replied, and Keto closed his eyes. Whether it was the dust in
the air or just Shakespeare's inane prattling, he was getting one hell
of a headache.
"Look, Charlie," began Wildflower, giving Keto another possible
explanation for the pain in his head, "We're lost in corridors that it
looks like nobody's walked down in years. We need to get out of here."
"Truly, you are a genius," muttered Keto, not even bothering to open
his eyes again, massaging his temples with his fingertips, "Because
naturally I've just been wandering through these corridors for the
sheer fun of your company. I've been TRYING to get out of here, you
wretched nurse! What do you suggest we do, magically float through
the floor to another deck!?"
"Don't be silly, there's no such thing as magic!" laughed Wildflower,
"But there ARE such things as service hatches. You know, for
maintenance and so forth."
Keto opened his eyes and glared.
"I am forced to reassess the scope of your genius," he said coldly,
"You're actually right, there ARE service hatches."
"Exactly!" beamed Wildflower.
"For maintenance," continued Keto, "As you say. Now, tell me, what
exactly maintains this flying deathtrap we call a ship?"
"Umm...technicians?" said Wildflower. Keto smiled, but without any
"Sometimes. What else?"
"Thine tiny minions named skutter?" asked Shakespeare. Keto nodded,
his smile getting wider.
"Exactly, oh brain-addled bard. And what, pray tell, is it that we
are currently trying to flee from?"
"Murderous mechanical demons of a most unkind breed!" said Shakespeare
Keto grinned.
"Precisely," he nodded, and then whirled back to face Wildflower, his
grin turning instantly into a snarl, "And so tell me, Wildflower,
exactly how climbing into service tunnels intended for skutters and
maintenance robots is going to help us escape from, oh I don't know,
skutters and maintenance robots!? No, please, do enlighten me. I'm
DYING to hear this, as you will too if I have any say in the matter!"
"Maybe they won't find us," said Wildflower stubbornly. Keto raised
an eyebrow.
"Oh, maybe they won't find us! Because of the stealthy and
undetectable nature of a giant pink tree in a tunnel, two dozen
severely injured and/or crippled patients, the most irritating nurse
the universe has managed to conjure up and Shakespeare?!"
Keto stood for a second, his jaw opening and closing noiselessly.
"RIGHT! FINE!" he managed after a moment of dumbfoundedness. He
stormed back up the corridor and turned to where a service hatchway
lay embedded in the corridor floor. He reached down and began to
unlock the securing bolts.
"But Shakespeare's going first!" he snapped, and was momentarily
gratified to hear a faint whimper from behind him.
OOC: Tag anyone! :)

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