Roadkill, the Captain

With a grunt, the large squirrel would roll over. “Good Morning, Captain Roadkill.” a slightly feminine electronic voice says. As he pushes himself up, he would yawn. “Morning, Xena.” He responds as he looks over to the table against the wall, where a wrapped cheeseburger sits on a plate. He grabs his clothes that Xena has laid out, changing into his pink shirt and khakis before taking a seat.

“The usual, eh?” he asks as he opens it, his nose twitching at the smell. “Darter-Bat patty soaked in a little peanut oil, topped with the usual cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and onions.” she says, he licks his lips as he puts the burger on his bottom teeth, behind the long pair that extend past his chin, eating with a bit of a mess, which is cleaned up by laser as it piles up.

“Incoming call from S.A Carrier-Alpha.” Xena would announce, “On-screen.” the squirrel says, and a thuggish blue lizard would appear on screen. “Hello? Oh, there it goes! Hey, you got food right? We’ve got a lot of men to feed, and our supplies are cut off. How war works you know?” Roadkill would nod, “You’re on Snivelak then? Very well, we’ll make a stop in neutral territory near you.” The lizard would nod, “Excellent, that’ll work! You’re not as bad as you are furry.” he says before signing off.

Xena would speak, “Course plotted for Snivelak, confirm?”, “Confirm.” Roadkill says, making his way to the door, hearing another alert as he does. “Forward to my communicator.” he says, grabbing the device, and putting on his Captain’s hat, on the way out, hearing it ring and answering, while making his way to the bridge.

“Hey, Captain. Could you stop by the Engineering deck real quick?” He would turn at the next hall, entering the elevator. “On my way, Chief.” he puts his communicator up, wiping his mouth with his paw.

Soon reaching Engineering, the squirrel looks at a green, leather-skinned humanoid. “What’s do you need, Vitara?” he asks, “It would appear our last hyperspace jump damaged the drive, we can get at most twenty-five percent power out of it as is.” He would nod, “And how long will repairs be?”, she would look at him. “That depends sir, on whether you want to risk having it completely offline. It will be a week if we can take it offline completely, or we can have some use out of it, but it will take a month to repair.”

Roadkill nods, “The 10-K-C engines are fully operational right? We can stand to be without hyper-drive as long as we avoid combat.” She would nod, “Your call, Captain, we’ll take it offline as soon as the crew is awake.” Roadkill nods, his communicator ringing again and answering it, “I’ll be right there.” he says, returning to the elevator and going to the back of the ship, to the restaurant portions.

As he arrives he would make his way through the lines, “Captain here, what do you need?” he would ask in a loud tone, to no one in particularly, until a white mouse waves to him. “I er… need to be trained?” He would step up closer, as a grey dog comes over. “Dawson?” he asks, the dog nods. “As you know I’m new to being manager and policy is to have a regular manager for the first 5 sessions, today’s the fifth.”



Roadkill nods, “Alright, I’ll supervise. She must have missed a session?” he questions as they head to the grill, and Dawson gets to work demonstrating making a patty, cooking… as well as answering, “Yeah, Quasar wanted her for something?” he nods at the mention of their mascot, who’s image is plastered upon the walls of the restaurant, a brown dog with a pink heart tattoo around the eye.

Roadkill would nod, “Very good, you’ve got things down. Looks like you’ve got a lot of orders…” he chuckles, “Just to speed things up a little.” he would leave briefly, returning with a flamethrower, a Pyrocitor. Dawson would blink, “We’re not -that- busy, Captain...” he shakes his head as he fills a rack with patties. “Hm… what’s your name, mouse?” he asks, and she would blink. “Tulip, Captain.” he nods as he hands her the weapon.

She would blink, holding it awkwardly, “You want me to shoot this thing?!” she questions and he nods. “That I do, yes. All employees must handle weapons, especially this one for the dinner rush...” she would pull the trigger, watching as the flames sweep the patties, Roadkill confidently standing inches from the flame.

“Very good, Tulip.” he nods, taking the weapon back. “Sounds like you haven’t received your standard issue weapon?” She would nod, “Stop by the armory later then.” She gulps and nods. He would make his way toward the front again, back around the counter and pulling out his communicator as the line moves forward, putting it down and smiling as he looks at an armored scorpion headed his way, “Hey, you want to play later?” he asks, and the scorpion nods. “You know I always want to.” He smirks and nods.

Turning to the mouse, who’s moved to a register by this point, he would smile. “Yes I’d like a number seven, with a side of mixed nuts.” he says, and she nods. “And for the drink?”, he would nod, “Two large root beers.” she nods, “And since I’m the Captain just press “Special Charge” and the one that looks like me.” she nods, “Uh huh. And is that for here or to go?” He thinks a moment, “Eh, I’ll eat it at my station, To go.”  He would grab his drinks and step aside for a bit, waiting to grab the food.

Making his way back to the front of the ship, he would pass by the bridge and up to the command room, which sets above it and has the same controls as the Captain’s Station below, but more privacy. Grabbing his blaster and HK22 gun from the walls, holstering the former, and having a look at his gadgets, and a chunk of raritanium, he smiles a bit more and sets his food down. The day has only begun...