The Mind finally got the answers they were looking for out of the AI, if only it could simply pick the minds of these other beings and find out what they were thinking rather than going through all this nonsense. Then again unlike most hive minds the Will did somewhat like the fact that it could get surprises like this one from those in its employ, the fact that the AI had apparently been doing online dating for some time, and was suave enough to get a date was a fascinating revealed that would have been ruined if the Mind had seen it all developing to this point.

”you have a girlfriend? How intriguing”

The bees excitedly congratulated the AI on finding a love interest and in their slightly confused understanding of the whole affair asked if they would be getting a baby ship in the future, one that might be bee sized?

Apart from the obvious problem of Fiddlesticks’s probably poor performance on a date, based on what had been observed at the Hendersons Ribs with their conversation with Vanessa, there were some other issues they saw with this plan.

”Won’t she notice that Fiddlesticks does not have the same speech pattern as you though? Or she might ask about things in your chat that he won't be able to respond to. Have you got a way around those two issues? Some kind of teleprompter or earpiece perhaps.”

They were all interested to see how this turned out when they arrived on Ofromia and were attempting to give suggestions so that the whole situation didn’t fall apart at the first moment.

---

All across the ship the bees finished what they were doing and battened down the hatches, so to speak, finishing all the tasks they had inherited from the ex crew-members, tidying up the party, getting themselves strapped in just in-case the sinking into the Unreal had some turbulence this time. Shutters on windows where either raised or lowered depending on which complement of bees were nearby and if they enjoyed the bizarre nature of the Unreal or not, a few set up scientific equipment or easels, ready to observe or paint some happy little absurdities, while others cosied up together, feeling safe in the depths of the ship. Meanwhile a small team of bees from the library were busy rummaging around in a box of past crew-members cloths, looking for a trench coat...

"Girlfriend? I, ah, would, um, I mean to say, it's not like that, yet," the cleaning robot, wearing a single sock, scrambled up on to one of the mostly-empty chairs in the bridge, scattering a few of the bees to see somewhere else to sit. The face of the robot, which was positively beaming with excitement when it bounded into the bridge a moment earlier, now looked embarrassed. Shy, even. It studiously avoided making eye contact with any bee, which involved quite a bit of work, considering that there were quite so many of them.

"I mean, I don't want to jinx it, maybe eventually. She likes me for my intellect, and I hope, um, she'll like Fiddlesticks for his, for his, um, his," the voice shifted to a much lower volume, and the robot spoke very quickly for a moment, "his hot bod and then maybe, we can both change our SpaceBook relationship status. I'll use an ear-piece, that's a great idea!"

"Better than those other plans. Less messy too."

---

The Engine stuttered, then roared into life. The ship shuddered, then sank. From the view of an outsider, it was as if the ship was sucked through some invisible straw, and then nothing. It had gone from the Real, where everything moved slowly enough that it made some sort of sense, to the Unreal, which made about as much sense as Restilov's post-surrealist epic poem "Eschatology & Symbology: The Meaning Behind Asparagus" after it'd been translated into H67-B, a written language that has no agreed upon alphabet.

Within the ship, the outside looked similar but strange, a negative image of the space they were just in. Black stars flicker against a backdrop of blinding white. Translucent shapes moved about somewhere outside, pressing their amorphous forms up against a soap bubble that contained the ship, the occupants of the ship and, should it hold, nothing else. There was little sense of movement on the ship itself now, even as it cut a path through the Unreal. Planets and stars and creatures the size of planets and stars drifted into view, and out of view. Occasionally, you might catch a glimpse of other ships cutting their way through the Unreal, little black spots suspended in tear-drop bubbles of familiarity and safety, chased by a host of hungry, many-tentacled things. Fortunately, there were no windows looking directly behind the Quest for Flavour to check whether such a monstrous thing was following the ship.

Quiet lounge music played over the speakers. It was supposed to be soothing.

Apparently Toony had greatly embarrassed both the robot and Fiddlesticks. Dating a robot was a secret? Toony didn't really get why most organics were such scardycats about their own bodies. What was weird was the cleaner robot being shy about the whole affair too. Sure, a cleaner robot being used for fun times was probably not what it was made for, but Toony wasn't going to push that issue just yet.

"So... if it doesn't matter if I'm a lady, why did you ask and why are you acting so flustered when I said I was one?" Toony said with a giggle, noting how fiddlesticks was being flustered and dismissive. Before much else could happen besides Fiddlesticks digging into his icecream, the FTL drive started up. When they made the jump to FTL space, Toony was relieved that this ship was outfitted correctly for it, having been preparing for some sort of flattening effect due to extreme speeds.

"Glad this ship can handle FTL." Toony said, unpeeling herself from the wall she stuck herself to and walking around a bit. Glancing at Fiddlesticks, she said. "So, besides the attempted robot intercourse thing, got anything you wanna chat about? Vanessa didn't wanna talk at all."

Fiddlesticks felt a strange dip. The kind of dip that one would feel at the top of a roller coaster track. The one that gave the roller coaster carts their momentum for the rest of the ride. This dip almost made Fiddlesticks spill his ice cream. He thought it strange but didn't pay it any mind. The fun berry ice cream was begging to be eaten. And so it was.

"Wha wa dat?"Fiddlesticks asked Toony @Archmage MC. His mouth was full of ice cream which muffled his speech. Specs of the creamy dessert flew from his mouth as he spoke.

He took a massive gulp before issuing a satisfied sigh. "Oh, uhh no reason. It's just that I've never seen a robot like you before. Just curious is all" replied Fiddlesticks. "What the heck's an intercourse? Is that like a special pod racing track or something?" he asked, not really caring whether he was answered or not. "I'll have you know that cleaner bots are not designed for pod racing. Racing pods are cleaned by pit stop cleano bots." Fiddlesticks stated with the authority of a learned scholar.

Despite being completely aware of how attractive this female robot was, he felt neither shyness nor awkwardness. This was a first for Fiddlesticks, especially with a girl as attractive as Toony. Maybe she knew a thing or two about girls and dating since she's essentially one herself. "Actually Toony"Fiddlesticks hesitated before continuing "I need some dating advice, for a friend". "Make it quick though, with faster than light travel, we'll be there sooner than you think" he warned.

The bashfulness the AI was kind of adorable, the Mind decided it would stop its questioning before it caught fire from embarrassment. Not that the Ai was blushing mind you, if parts of the ship or bot where to go bright red that would be… well it would actually be an indication that it was about to catch fire. so it was a good thing it did not exhibit that part of the emotional display.

”Ah, I see. Well good luck with furthering your relationship via ventriloquism. I will speak with you and the crew when we arive, for now I am going to get some down time. See you on the other side”

The purple lights faded from the Bees antenna, the Will having gone back to it’s equivalent of sleeping and so the Bees in the cockpit returned to what the where doing, namely mucking about or watching the subspace go by. Down in the rest of the ship the rest of the bees did the same, or took a nap depending on how busy they had been so far today.

The bees that had been looking for a trenchcoat had found one, as well as a pair of grabber sticks, a balloon, two peg legs and a felt tip pen and were busy working away in a buzz of activity, preparing for some kind of plan they had made up.

Toony didn't find herself to be too surprised at Fiddlestick's lack of insight. Nanobot fabrication robots were extremely rare or outright illegal to make in most systems due to the inherent dangers of an out of control nanobot swarm, let alone one with an AI advanced and seasoned enough to pass off as a person. Innuendos also seemed to go over his head, unless he was being cheeky back, though Toony didn't think he was.

When being asked about dating advice though, Toony decided to be honest with Fiddlesticks, instead of teasing him with her advice. "Honestly? I'm not a great robot to ask for dating advice. If its for a one night stand thats not hard to do for me since most guys or gals jump at the chance. If its a guy trying to one night a girl, they're SOL if the girl isn't into it unless they do something fantastic." Toony said, drumming along in an almost monotone nonchelaunt matter-of-fact voice instead of being animated. "For a real realtionship? I've never had one. But I'd think anything would go as long as both parties were honest. If both parties want an actual relationship anyway it'll work out fine even if its a disaster. If only one does and the other doesn't, its not going anywhere anytime soon I'd think." Glancing away from Fiddlesticks for a moment, she continued, sitting down. "But yeah, I'm not the best person to ask for that. I'm a 'go with the flow' sorta gal." Toony finished, waving her arms in a jointless wave, the rest of her body following suit.

Toony @Archmage MC was right about one thing. She wasn't a good robot to ask for dating advice. What she basically said was that she was so sexy that everyone wanted her all the time. Also, that a relationship would go great guns if both people were totally honest and they wanted the exact same things. Fiddlesticks was a few prawns short of a galaxy when it came to matters of love and intimacy and even he knew that. But still, Fiddlesticks felt that it was nice to know someone or something else that was as clueless as he.

"Oh, ok. Thanks anyway." Fiddlesticks replied. He felt a little nervous now for he was going to undertake a secret mission. A mission that may very well be way over his head. Perhaps this was a test, Fiddlesticks thought to himself. A training exercise maybe? It would make sense. The crew of the Quest for Flavour would have to be ready for any situation. Any situation at any time.

And with that thought, his nervousness turned to excitement. The ladybug cleaner bot did say it was a secret. But that was probably for his sake. It didn't say that he couldn't get help. So Fiddlesticks had to play it sly. He had to get help without it looking like he's being assisted, for that would give away his secret mission. Such a ploy would take a Machivellian mastermind. A mind that Fiddlesticks fancied he had but never really demonstrated before. But, Fiddlesticks thougt to himself, it will be soon. This was his time to shine. A mischievous grin spread across his devious face beneath his cunning eyes.

Fiddlesticks took one more scoop of ice cream but, to nobody's surprise but his own, it was all gone. He must've ate it all whilst coming up with his devious plan. Another habit of his, but a good one though. He called them his tasty schemes. Fiddlesticks found that he could plan and remember better if he ate his favourite food while he schemed. Fun berry ice cream being one of them. Food and Fiddlesticks went together like Holmes and Watson. The success of said schemes though, was another story entirely. One that lead to many hilarious and embarrassing outcomes. But when they worked, they really worked.

An awkward silence of an unknown length of time later, Fiddlesticks piped up with a request. "At the party on Ofromia, could you stay close to me? I may need you.". Fiddlesticks gave Toony his best puppy dog eyes look.

The Engine did it's thing, carefully jetting out just the right amount of Unreal to propel it through the layer of stuff that kept our galaxy (voted "Best Galaxy of the Year" every year since the prize itself was announced) separate from another galaxy that theoretically existed. Navigating through the Unreal was a delicate process, partly because of the mathematics involved in actually reaching your destination, but mostly because staring out the window to check where you were gave most people a blinding headache. There were all sorts of things that could go wrong too, a flask failure in an engine could see an entire ship flooded with the super-dense material of the Unreal, sinking the ship and damning the crew to a life of something quite unspeakable. The bubble of Real could burst. Space madness could set in. The coffee machine could stop working. Pirates could strike. A miscalculation could see a ship reappear dangerously close to a star, or uncomfortably close to an ex-boyfriend or, in the case of Stellar Whales, both.

Fortunately for the crew of the Quest for Flavour, none of these terrible things, or any other terrible thing really, happened as they breached the divide from the Unreal to the Real. From the outside looking in, the ship squeezed itself out through an invisible crack and wobbled slightly before seeming, well, real once more. For those inside the ship, there'd be a loud "pop!" and space outside would look normal as the protective bubble bursts. The Engine went back to sleep, letting red-hot components cool. A few of the marshmellows that the Bees had left on sticks nearby the Engine for just this moment began to brown.

The ship appeared a mostly-safe distance away from the planet of Ofromia. It was swelteringly close to the star of the same name. The original inhabitants weren't particularly inventive when it came to naming, so "Ofromia" refers to the sole inhabited planet, the whopping great big star it orbits, the two satellites that orbit the planet, the main continent of the planet and it remained one of the most popular family names on the planet, until Governor Ofromia introduced "Ofromia's Law #53527", which assigned families new names to stop the confusion. Even from a respectful distance out, you could see (if you cared to look), the giant dome that covered the capital city, Ofromia. It was big. Larger than it had any right to be, really. Striped with reflective panels and solar cells, it positively shone, and did a fairly good job of harvesting power to fuel whatever went on within the dome. Underneath the thin atmosphere, the rest of the planet seems rather underdeveloped - a few settlements here and there, but no sign of anything like the great continent spanning cities of Londis IV, or really much of anything.

Ships came and went, a chain of commerce and tourism that connected Ofromia with the rest of the civilised galaxy. A few artificial satellites hung in orbit of Ofromia (the planet), most of them festooned with solar cells to harvest power from Ofromia (the star). The local ship manufacturer mirrored Ofromian cultural sensibilities, and so nearly every other ship was a long, sleek looking thing with gentle curves and over-stuffed leather seating. If there was a military presence, or even a police presence, guarding the space around the planet, it was very well hidden indeed.

The speakers dotted about the ship crackled into life. The familiar voice of the AI rang out through the corridors, though it did sound as if it was distracted by something. Considering the state of the AI, this probably made it sound even more familiar to those who had spent any time with it.

"Crew to the bridge, crew to the bridge, we're back, in the, uh, I mean, we're at Ofromia, there's... uh, not a problem, just, uh, to the bridge, crew to the bridge, they're wanting to communicate..."

The bridge was a badly curated museum of technological wonders accquired from across the galaxy. From the bleeding-edge technology used in the seat warmer of the pilot's chair to the rather out-of-date weapons control system, it was a small miracle that any of it could function alongside any other thing. There was a knack to it, of course, because getting a NaviComp developed by a species of sentient dogs to talk to a scanner cobbled together by Engineer-Monks of the Blind Brotherhood wasn't always easy unless you routed the information through the set of wireless-enabled fuzzy dice. This, at least, explained why nobody had got rid of the fuzzy dice. Of all the bizarre and wonderful technology on the bridge, none was more bizarre or wonderful than the communication system. It was a red telephone, with a rotary dialler. Wires connected it to various other things within the bridge, and quite how it functioned was something of a mystery. A post-it note attached to the side of the telephone reminded users that you'd need to "Dial 9 For Outside Line".

And now, on the bridge, the telephone was ringing.

When the ship came up out of the Unreal and back into the Real a small alarm clock that Vanessa had bought specifically to sense this type of transition began to ring. Vanessa pushed open her coffin and placed a hand upon the clock, silencing it. Switching off the alarm to prevent it from ringing again, Vanessa took a moment to stretch and felt several pops resonate throughout her body. Taking up her bathrobe once again, Vanessa donned it and grabbed her previous suit from the clothes chest. With this in hand, Vanessa walked towards the showers at a comfortable pace, her slippers sliding quietly along the floor.

Should Vanessa be uninterrupted, she would reach the showers in a few moments after leaving her room, and would take the suit she had deposited in the wash out and place it within a dryer. Setting it to run, Vanessa walked into a showering room and closed the door behind her. Before locking the showering room to private, Vanessa would make sure that the room was empty of anything that might hamper her showering experience. Once she was sure she was clear, Vanessa would lock the room with a faint click and would shower as before.

When Vanessa emerged from the showering room next, she would once again be both 100% clean and 100% dry. Making minor adjustments to her suit, Vanessa ensured everything was proper and returned to her room to deposit the bathrobe she had worn. Pulling on her boots, Vanessa made sure that everything was once again proper and walked out to the bridge after hearing the intercom play that a message was there. Vanessa would arrive there shortly and, since she was likely the first one present, had little to do other than listen to the phone ring. Vanessa knew that the task of answering this phone fell to the captain of the ship, which Vanessa wasn't. Thus, they had to wait for The Bees and The Will to appear on deck before any kind of official communication could take place.

The phone ringing was really quite annoying, but Vanessa could do little about it until the others arrived, or at least The Bees and The Will. Then the communications could take place. Thus Vanessa waited for The Bees and The Will, along with the other crew, to arrive.

The ship arrived in real-space, the journey having been fortuitously uneventful and so the bees celebrated/commemorated the successful voyage with a few more ceremonies/rituals/tasks mainly involving diagnostics on the flasks, cleaning out the ghost room, you could get good money for ectoplasm if you could find the right people and finally those bees who were in charge of the engine and the knowledge about the unreal all got drunk in celebration of not being attacked by giant unreal Bee-eaters.

Up on the bridge the phone started ringing, the captain bees were currently scrambling about making sure they weren't about to hit anything or be arrested while they awaited the pilot’s arrival. Some of them acknowledged Vanessa’s sparkling clean arrival with a hasty good morning as they whizzed past. Finally some went to pick up the phone as the mind began to manifest in the 20 odd bees currently buzzing around the bridge, a strange noise that sounded like a psychic presence giving a yawn and a stretch could be heard as the Mind got ready to lead the odd band of space friends once more.

”Good morning Vanessa. You look like you got up bright and early. I must admit would not have taken you for a morning person” they greeted the currently present crew member before they began the rather odd method of answering the phone.

A two bees arrived, dressed up like they worked in a callcenter, who buzzed up to the phone as it was lifted off the set, one going to the mouthpiece and the other to the ear piece. The dial was spun to 9 as instructed and in an immense act of willpower all of the bees quieted their usual chatter and the bee at the mouthpiece spoke to the caller. Alone.

"You have reached the Quest For Flavour, an Interplanetary Space Friends (Brought to you by Henderson’s Ribs) affiliated vessel, how may we help you today"

On odd thing about The Will’s manner of speaking was that it did not work through most types of communication devices as it was in fact physically speaking to the individual’s minds rather than creating sound. This normally worked, even barely intelligent machines like the server at the restaurant could be spoken to, however a telephone does not have near the complexity to have a psychic presence and thus the Mind was helpless to do anything other than have a specially trained duo to operate the phone.

For convenience, because rotary phones do not have a speaker mode, the mind would communicate whatever the caller said to the second bee to all those present, repeating it word for word so they would not have to explain the call later later.

Vanessa gave a closed lip smile to The Bees (And, by extension, The Will.) and replied to their greeting with one of her own before continuing. "Among my own people I'm considered both a rarity and weird, so it's nothing too out of the ordinary for me. I also enjoy being in and out of the showers before others. It's more private that way. And, of course, the intercom also said to report to the bridge as quickly as possible. So here I am." Vanessa took a moment to stretch again, raising her arms above her head and stretching from side to side. A few faint cracks could be heard from her back as her spine readjusted herself and Vanessa left out a faint sigh of comfort at the relief of her bones moving back to their proper places.

Lowering her arms, Vanessa tugged her suit back into place and made sure everything was tight. She then tugged on her gloves and ensured that they too were snug against her hands. Wearing a suit was a lot more maintenance than most people assumed, and it was very easy to ruin the look by having something pull itself out of place. The key appeal of a suit was a professional appearance, and failing to maintain that ruined the act of wearing a suit in the first place. This wasn't to say that Vanessa didn't have casual clothes, but wearing a suit was preferable since her old job back on her home planet involved a lot of formal meetings and required your best clothes to be worn on a constant basis.

Depending on how the party was going to go, the crew might have been in for a treat since Vanessa may just end up wearing something that wasn't a suit. Perhaps a fine dress if the party was to be especially formal. Vanessa had several to choose from tucked away, and she was sure that Fiddlesticks would hardly be able to look away. Vanessa felt bad for him from time to time, though she certainly didn't want to reciprocate the feelings he felt lest she inspire him to insanity when he found out that he was growing old and she was no different. Turning him into a Vampire would have been an option were he a pure human, but his rather sparse crew dossier stated that he wasn't completely human. The vampire virus would thus mutate his body horribly, if not outright kill him. Thus, Vanessa was aloof, even if it made Fiddlesticks feel bad.

Fiddlesticks was a hard organic to read. Toony wasn't sure exactly what he was thinking, and when she though tit was clear that she probably wasn't the best to get lasting relationship advice from, Fiddlesticks still asked her to stay close in case he had questions, complete with large eyes and everything. "Well, if you see me at the party you can ask me questions or whatever. But I plan to just party, not babysit."

Soon after, the ship came out of FTL space, a noticeable lurch as it did. The Ship AI then asked everyone to come to the bridge, having quite a distracted speech pattern while doing so. "Wonder whats on their thoughts?" Toony said, waving for Fiddlesticks to follow as she made her way to the Bridge. When she got there, she noticed that half the crew was here. Sure Will was everywhere, and mr. Lizard guy probably didn't leave the bridge, being the one at the pilot seat and everything. Vanessa getting here so soon was a bit weird though since last Toony saw her, she was taking a nap on the couch.

"So... Party time? Any rules I should know before we go in?" Toony said after looking at their destination through the window. "OH, and anyone need something before we go? Like a party suit or something?" she offered.

Elarin awoke to the ship's AI calling everyone to the bridge, apparently due to a message coming in from the planet of Ofromia. Elarin slowly shook himself awake, peeled himself off of his bed, and popped a couple of caffeine pills into his mouth to hopefully get himself a bit more alert for when it came time to land the ship. Switching off the heat lamps that adorned the ceiling of his room, Elarin stepped out the door, and headed for the bridge.

Stepping into the bridge room, Elarin noted that two of Will's bees were answering the phone, as Vanessa and Toony stood. Toony had spoke, offering to make a party outfit for anyone that needed one. Elarin spoke as he walked through the door, moving next to the pilot's chair. "That won't be necessary, Toony. The Help Ad stated that clothes would be provided. All we have to do is help make the party great, and then enjoy it."

Curses! Foiled again! Fiddlesticks puppy dog eyes manoeuvre proved ineffective against the mechanical woman @Archmage MC. It always worked a treat before, but only on old grandmas and civilised space gorillas from planet Kong of the Skull system. One things for sure though, Toony was neither an old grandma nor a space gorilla. Fiddlesticks took a mental note of that. He also took another mental note that he had to write down his previous mental note before he forgot. Upon which he placed yet another mental note stating that he had to write down the mental note that reminded him to write down the mental note of his inquisitive findings of Toony. Fiddlesticks decided to stop before he gave himself a migraine. That was why he never used mental notes, they always left a messy mental pile. The mind of Fiddlesticks was chaotic enough as it was.

Did Toony just say babysit!? Fiddlesticks felt a little offended at the very idea that he needed babysitting, but he let it slide. He had to keep on Toonys good side in order for his tasty scheme to work. And so Fiddlesticks just stood there, smiling amicably like a chump.

The PA system issued forth a summons of the crew to the bridge. And apparently, the planet of Ofromia wanted to communicate with the crew. "Wonder whats on their thoughts?" Toony said, waving for Fiddlesticks to follow as she made her way to the Bridge. Fiddlesticks wondered the same thing. What was their char grilled, oil soaked, lovingly seasoned beef with us?

Fiddlesticks picked up his giant lucky spanner from his bed and placed it in its special black strap on his back, attached to his blue denim overalls. He then put on his brown leather work gloves that sat on one of the many boxes in his room. Fiddlesticks cut an imposing figure in his denim overalls, black Wellington boots, brown leather gloves, and his white shirt festooned with various food and engine fluid stains. "let's go" he said, in the deepest most badass voice he could muster, which sounded like a human pre-pubescent child that spoke slowly.

Fiddlesticks followed Toony to the bridge of the Quest for Flavour. A large amount of the bees were there, in an extra concentrated swarm. The uptight iguana dude was there as well. When Fiddelsticks saw Vanessa though, his mind went blank. His shyness around pretty girls returned with a vengeance.

There were many ways in which societies handled the difficulties that came with ships coming and going. Those of a more militaristic bent preferred to let some branch of their armed forces. Others opt to extend the scope (and, hopefully, the budget) of air traffic control systems, using advancing tracking systems and highly trained operators to prevent one ship from bumping into another during take-off and landing. Customs ships, police enforcers, little blinking lights that guided ships to where they needed to be, the particulars rarely mattered - what was important was a sense of professionalism. It inspired confidence and calm, which were both very important indeed.

On the other end of the phone, the sound of a party in full swing. The beat of lively music, the chatter of conversation, the clinking of glasses and the shouting of elaborate toasts to guests and hosts alike. Occasionally, there'd be the sound of glass shattering, and a roar of laughter.

"What-o, visitor," the voice strained to make itself heard over the general background sounds of good-natured merriment and light-hearted debauchery, "this is Ofromia Space Contro- not now, Stan, I'm working, oh, okay, pour me a half- Control, you dig? Just gotta handle the particulars. What's brought you crazy cats out this way?"

The mind, some what begrudgingly, relayed the greeting of the very lax border control of the rest of the crew while the bees rummaged around in the glove compartment for the Newletter from earlier, circling the help wanted ad they had come for and held it in front of the phone speaking bee.

”If this lot are any indication I imagine the party is not the kind that requires formal suits, but as Elarin pointed out, cloths will be provided.”

The Bee, maintaining a calm and stern demeanor even in the face of complete amateurism, continued.

"The Quest For Flavor is here responding to a request for help listed in the Space Friends Newsletter regarding one Zane Heron’s request for a help in, and I quote ‘throwing the greatest party of the season’ end quote. Do we have permission to land?"

Various tiny fingers where jabbed first at the name of the requester, then at a map followed by improvised looks of confusion and searching for him

"Also if you know where lives then giving that information to us would be most helpful in getting our mission underway"

The Bee finished dryly.

(If the rest of the crew had any questions then the bee was ready to relay them, or they could just grab the phone, though that would be a bit rude)

Fiddlesticks walked into one of the leather seats and flipped right over it. He tumbled head over heels onto the floor of the bridge. Such antics would've usually elicited stares and a couple of laughs. But since Fiddlesticks was with the crew for the Quest for Flavour, they went largely unnoticed. At this point in their professional relationship, the crew have probably came to expect such behaviour from him. Fiddlesticks was just so distracted by Vanessa in that suit of hers.

He picked himself up from the ground and dusted himself off. Fiddlesticks then promptly picked up the leather seat from the ground, laying in its side, then put it back into its rightful position. "s-s-sorry" he stammered awkwardly.

"What-o, visitor," the voice strained to make itself heard over the general background sounds of good-natured merriment and light-hearted debauchery, "this is Ofromia Space Contro- not now, Stan, I'm working, oh, okay, pour me a half- Control, you dig? Just gotta handle the particulars. What's brought you crazy cats out this way?" asked the hail from Ofromia.

It sounded like a real wild party they were throwing down there. Fiddlesticks wondered if there were any attractive humanoid females down there, and how drunk they were. He used to be nervous about parties for the longest time, for they were social engagements. But it wasn't until after the incident of the ball pit and the mule with the party hat that fiddlesticks realised that wild parties are one of the only places where it's considered acceptable to make a fool of oneself. That people did it all the time, for fun. If the females looked anything like Vanessa, then Fiddlesricks was sold.

But he had a secret mission from the cleaner bot. Then again, when did Fiddlesticks ever let some vacuum cleaner get in the way of his fun? And so he decided to do both, have fun and help the AI with its relationship issues, somehow.

Fiddlesticks had a question for the Ofromians. "Do you guys find cleaner bots sexy? I'm just asking, for a friend." he asked. It sounded a lot more diplomatic in his head.

"Zane Heron?"

The lively beat of music came to an abrupt halt, the chatter of conversation fell silent and, while there was still the occasional sound of a glass shattering, it was met not with laughter but polite, awkward coughing. Those who could not politely cough tried their best to simulate such a sound, or used one of the many small devices on the market that played recordings of various useful sounds for social situations. Somebody, far off in the background, began trying to propose a new toast, but was quickly shushed by another guest who was rather more aware of the mood.

"Well, that sly old dog, he's getting back into the party game, I mean, sure, permission to land granted. There's a clear spot on Pad 87, I'll light that one up, hold up,"

The Quest for Flavour was briefly put on hold. A brief snippet of the instrumental arrangement of the current national anthem of Ofromia, Ofromia, Oh, Ofromia quietly played. It was an uptempo sort of thing, played by some electronic instrument or other, that was designed to worm it's way into the ear of a listener, wrap itself around their brain and refuse to let go. A new anthem was selected every year, such that the anthem reflected modern tastes, and the Ofromia National Anthem Council made a tidy profit selling "Best Of Ofromian Anthems" compilation albums.

One of the landing pads just outside of the city-dome lit up, the number 87 having been neatly painted in the centre of it. There was a small buzz of activity going on around it, which could be seen even from this great height, though rather than people bringing things to the landing area, they seemed to be taking things away from it.

The hold music stopped just before the bass was to drop in Ofromia, Oh, Ofromia.

"Okay, I've pinged Mister Heron's tower, let them know you're here, he'll have one of his cats meet you at eighty seve- sexy cleaner bots?"

The people in the Traffic Control tower had tried, ever so hard, to resuscitate the party after it choked on the name of Zane Heron. Life had almost been breathed back into it, the wine was beginning to flow once more, and it looked like something could be salvaged. Then the radio operator said sexy cleaner robots, and the party died again.

Only to be reborn a scant few seconds later, rising like a brilliant phoenix to the sounds of uproarious laughter. The in-house band, because nearly every business in Ofromia hired the services of one, began to play a jaunty, bawdy improvised tune that would, in the future, be known as the "Sexy Cleaning Robot Neo-Rumba". Once the roar of laughter had died down to something a little more manageable, the radio operator took a deep breath, gave himself a serious look via his reflection in a nearby glass, and tried to carry on like nothing had happened.

"Anything else we can help you with today, Quest for Flavour?"

If Toony had a nose, she'd be pinching it right now. Fiddlesticks was not putting her suspicions at ease with his comments about eloping with the cleaning bot. Worse still when she heard lots of laughing over the phone when he made his comment about if anyone was interested in cleaning bots. "Well Fiddlesticks, they might be more into bigger robots." Toony said with a sideways glance "I'll letchya know how many robot enthusiasts I find at this party." she said, ending on a wink.

"So, we just party? If so, you all have my comms channel and can call me if something bad happens. I'm here to get smashed. Well, as smashed as a ladybot can, anyway." Toony said with a laugh.