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nyumbayangu · 01-30-2021, 03:10 AM

The quiet hum of the nanoscalpel echoed off the metal walls of Narboza's ship, accented by a low guttural sound emanating from the Sardangian's throat. It was an ancient tune that all spawnlings were taught in their first century of growth when they were children learning the ways of their elders. A song about conquest, but also about a longing for home, Manyhands found himself coming back to it often in these days as he still missed the interactions with his own species that he would not be receiving for several decades.

From time to time a thin waft of smoke would waft it's way up towards the vents near his head, slowly being drawn in by the air purification system which kept decontaminates from spoiling the sample. With two of his arms tucked neatly behind him, Narboza was an odd figure to the eyes of most humans, but as he worked away, he felt more comfortable in his ship than at any other point since arriving on earth.

The cuts needed to be perfect, and while this was a fairly routine procedure by Sardangian standards, he did not wish to make even the slightest mistake which might result in damaged goods.

He paused and reached down with one of his hands to peel back the final layer of skin which revealed the skull - the juicy frontal lobe tucked neatly behind the protective bone. Holding the tiny flap of skin in hand he reached down with another, it's digits gripping a laser drill which was already preprogrammed to the right frequency needed. With the click of a button it whirred into life and began to work it's way through the bone and towards its goal.

~~~~~~~

This human had been identified as a prime target for quite some time now. Of average height for an SHL player, at 6'1", and certainly older than nearly every other player in the league, there were certain attributes that Narboza found desirable. First, his accent. Hailing from Ireland, Narboza found the lilting sound of the human's voice to be quite fascinating, and right there this human was put on the short list for sampling. Furthermore, he had a broad range of hockey skills which Narboza knew would come in handy when it's DNA was uploaded into the computer.

Acquiring the sample was a simple task as Narboza needed only to find a way to find some alone time with the human. While his ship was still nowhere ready for interstellar travel, short trips on the planet were safe enough to carry out. The cloaking system made it easy to get around and the distance between Vancouver and Killarney was next to nothing using this sort of advanced technology. He had setup a meeting with the human, asking if he could get some training tips from the veteran player, making it clear that he would be in the area and looking forward to seeing some of the area to enhance his knowledge of the type of human culture in Ireland. It was decided that a quick trip up the Cardiac Steps for some training, and a chat, were in order.

The day was nothing out of the ordinary, with light fog winding it's away around Torc Mountain. A perfect opportunity to carry out his plan. The human had been most accommodating and had taught Narboza about all sorts of Irish culture, from the glorious craic, to the horrific beverage they called Guinness. He also discussed hurling, making the claim that the sport of ice hockey was actually stolen from the Irish sport and bastardized into what it is today. The human had managed to get over his bitterness regarding the cultural appropriation and turned it into a long career in the sport that he could have simply hated.

The stairs were aptly named, and Narboza felt the thrill of the elevated heart rate as they wound their way up the hundreds of rocky steps and towards the top of the climb. The conversation started friendly enough, but by the end both the human and the Sardangian were saving much of their breathing as they huffed and puffed. The fog grew ever thicker as they climbed and Narboza sensed the perfect opportunity as they neared the top, just as they rounded a corner. Removing a concealed neural dampener from a hidden back pocket, Narboza touched the back of the human's neck. It had the desired result. The human fell instantly to the ground and Narboza managed to quickly scoop him up, activating the remote return feature on his ship to pick them both up.

Within 30 minutes the ship was hovering just outside of Doolin on the coast - the Cliffs of Moher in the background. The first step in the process was waiting for the human to recover, as he needed some information on the human reaction to pain. He knew that humans were quite squishy, but he was unsure of precisely how much damage they could take before passing out. It was a delicate balance of damaging the human just enough to cause the desired effect, while not doing anything that could not be fixed with the minimum amount of effort after the fact.

The data Narboza collected was invaluable and between bouts of loud screaming and bloodcurdling moans, he hastily input notes into the ship's computer. He would compile it all up into a report later on that he would add to his greater research. The human performed admirably, and much to his surprise, was able to take a great deal more damage to his physical form, before being rendered unconscious, than expected. Perhaps it was due to his long career in the SHL as a defender, where he took a great deal of physical abuse night in and night out.

Eventually the human succumbed to the damage, and Narboza sedated him. The final steps were to extract the needed DNA from the frontal lobe, then scrape the memories and restore the human back to his pre-experiment form so that he would be none the wiser. He began to hum a little tune as he fired up the neuroscalpel and began his work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With two of his hands busy putting away the tools he had been using, he washed up two others, the human's bodily fluids winding their way down a drain and into the dehydrators. The sample had done admirably and would have made his fellow humans proud with his performance. It was unfortunate that he would not remember any of this, and no one would ever know about it. Satisfied that he had enough data form this sample, Narboza reached down and patted the human on the forehead - it's eyes now shut, and breathing back to normal.

"Well done Jon Toner. You are but the first of many which will most certainly create a future SHL player to rival all others. Your contribution will go down in the Sardangian records for all time."

He slid a drawer closed, tucking away the last of his tools for the night. With a few clicks the ship whirred back up and started heading back to Killarney. Jon would wake up in his bed tonight and think only of the foggy dreams he had, but with a shrug would perhaps pass it off as some bad blood sausage from the night previous. Little did he know the role he had played in the future of an SHL superplayer.

1241 Words

Rancidbudgie · 01-30-2021, 04:43 AM

This is amazing.

... And also terrifying

Thank you to Ham and Sulo for the sigs!

Henrik · 01-30-2021, 06:25 AM

Narboza is quickly becoming my favourite extra terrestrial.

*AgentSmith630* · 01-30-2021, 03:22 PM

Once he has collected enough samples, Narboza will retire and unleash upon the SHL what he has created.

A truly terrifying future

DollaBill · 01-30-2021, 03:27 PM

Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one around here who didn't just eat a bag of mushrooms

Ronniewalker · 01-30-2021, 05:48 PM

Isaac, is that you? Can’t wait for the next episode Smile

Sigs by sulovilen , Ragnar , supertardis101 , Leviadan , High Stick King , Carpy & KaleSalad

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After 69 shots on net with still no SHL goals to show for it, even the opposition started to feel so sorry for Lemo, that they decided to help him out :D

- Bad pass by Jack Klompus, he gave it right to Lemo Pihl.

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TEX @ MAN, S59 game 31

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