Theyth Thinkest Ist Alleth Over...

Who: ?
Where: ?
There was a swooping and a streak of blue as a figure attached to
a long chain glided effortlessly between pipeline after pipeline.
The figure landed carefully on the very top of one pipeway and
crouched down, clasping hold of the metal and becoming motionless.
Down below in the corridor, the figure of Hazel Coffey walked
along humming to herself and wondering how she was going to spend
the next few hours. It'd been a while since Keto had given her an
afternoon off. It wasn't as if she did much anyway, but it was
simply the feeling of knowing that the next few hours would eb
hassle free.
Coffey gasped and jumped back as a figure clad in blue landed in
front of her, low to the ground on all fours.
"I must talk to you," it said to her, the voice low and genderless.
"Excuse me?" she said, taking a step back and looking around
uncretainly. Her ideas of a happy afternoon seemed to be vanishing
"I ned to talk to you."
"Who are you?"
"Not important. Shakespeare is in danger."
"What?!" Coffey said suddenly.
"Shakespeare, he is in trouble. You must find him. Find him now."
The figure clad in blue leapt upwards and scutteled along the
pipes with speeds that would have stunned a tornado.
Coffey began running down the corridor toward her's and
Shakespeare's quarters.
"Holly, where's Shakespeare?"
"Shakespeare's not onboard."
"Does that mean he's in the cargo decks?"
"No. He's not onboard. He's gone."
"Gone where."
"I don't know."
<to be continued>

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