He shimmied across the bench and peered down the aisle. Fifty, perhaps sixty, bodies lined the craft’s ugly gun-metal grey interior – a sorry bunch of rogue simulants, renegade droids, Axis-syndrome holograms and a bizarre mix of engineered life forms.
All handcuffed.
All reluctant guests of His Imperial Majesty F’hn hiujsrf Dernbvjukidhgd the Unpronounceable.