he let out a short breath, nodding along to their words. it was easy to let oneself be suddenly flooded with worry – truth be told, this mission felt different, and so enzo was not entirely sure he felt the usual degree of confidence. but as bold of an idea as it were, the crew – himself included – would have to let faith carry them along.
but once that strange sensation died down, enzo felt himself begin to feel the intrigue and excitement of witnessing a new planet get to him. it was like opening a present ( what could possibly be waiting for them? who knew ! ) talking about the inventory made him even more giddy, though thanks to enzo’s own character, the shift wasn’t too noticeable.
“thank you, captain. i am glad to be of help to you and the rest of the crew. as for inventory, my own automated system includes ten weapons, ranging from blades to blasters – though, the exact details about the models are classified, per company policy. aside from this i can confirm that we have an arsenal consisting of six clubbing boomerangs, two messers, one bec de corbin, five shovels, ten sonic blasters, two identity discs, twelve combat jackets, fifteen phasers, three arc guns, ten plasma blasters, five gravity guns, one shrink ray, two particle beam weapons, one colander, one scoop and twelve handheld shields. i have distributed it all in quasi-equal amounts and stored throughout the ship. that way we are not left weapon-less and exposed if one area of the ship becomes compromised.”
Breville listens intently to the list, growing increasingly impressed with each new addition. They especially enjoy the addition of the colander -- a very useful item! “You are enormously prepared!” they chirp, “Thank you for your thoughtfulness! I think--”
They’re cut off as a few things happen with alarming quickness. A pulse of energy, the ship rattling and groaning around them, and finally, moments later, the distinct sensation of the ship starting to pitch downward. Lights go out, their face-screen flickers but their own power source is fine. The ship leans, items and detritus go scattering and rolling with the new angle, but Breville stays put, their magnetic feet anchoring them to the floor.
“We seem to be crashing,” they observe, the height of calm. “All but one life sign is stable.” They can’t detect Cabbie anymore. “Enzo, please report to the ship’s weapons station in case of attack.” Their face-screen shifts, from their little cartoon face to the pilot’s display, the ship jerking mid-air as they try to take control remotely, but still falling. “And brace for impact.”