[Meanwhile, on the planet Clarion...]

A dizzying display of blinking lights and monitors surrounds a communications technician in a decorated white uniform as he attempts to decipher the computer generated voice coming in across subspace.

"This is Toxica to Ground Control," says the faint artificial voice, which is polluted with heavy interference. "Source of distress transmission is habitable planet. Plant life is present, but animal life has been exterminated by hostile sentient robots. Unknown if robots have jump drive, but believe they will attack any organic life they encounter and would attack other systems if they are able. Osprey crew currently in custody of robots, unsure if escape is possible. If we do not escape or send further tranmissions, assume that this planet is hostile and send a large fleet to destroy machines if you believe they may atta..." The rest is washed out in a tidal wave of static.

The technician attempts to regain a lock on the signal. "Ground Control to Toxica. Your circuit's dead. There's something wrong. Can you hear me, Toxica? Can you hear me, Toxica? Can you--"

"Compose yourself, major," orders a gruff voice from behind. Standing at full alert behind the technician is none other than David Arconium, Duke of Hiatia, the high commander of the White Light Royal Marines.

"Subspace signal degredation is normal over such long distances," continues the commander. "Are you sure the message is legitimate?"

"The voice was generated by a computer, so a voiceprint match won't do us any good. The security codes check out, though. If the danger is real..."

The major didn't need to finish the sentence. Arconium hated losing any of his marines, but in this case he would actually be losing his four best marines. Still, with the Osprey gone, the White Light militia couldn't afford to send away any more of its forces.

The high commander comes to a resolute decision. "If the danger is real, it extends not just to our away mission but to the entire Frontier. Get me a secure line to Rear Admiral Kh'rane at the UPF building."

[And now back to the adventure...]

Paaglo's pseudopod is reaching for ids personal arsenal, but a look from Toxica asks id to hold off for the moment.

Toxica glares at the blue robot. "You claim to be the end product of fourteen working models, but your removal of our companion seems to be an emotional response," she says flatly. It takes all her effort to maintain the façade of calm. "S.H.E.R.M.A.N. has taught us that logic should override reason, that emotion is a biological trait. Perhaps your line is in need of further upgrade. You should return our companion and bring us to the Unimind so we can learn from its pure programming."

She pauses, hoping against hope that her ruse will work. This far into the complex the team would have almost no chance of escaping by force.

"Your requests are of no significance," replies the robot. "Your incorrect correlation of the Unimind's actions and biological emotion is both illogical and irrelevant. The Unimind has need of your companion, and has acted accordingly."

The blue mechanoid makes no further attempt the explain itself or the actions of its metallic comrades.

Kro'khan is already at the wall where Yaundorr disappeared.

[Kro'khan INTUITION: 60%, Rolled: 06]

"There's no opening mechanism or other exposed features on this wall," mumbles the Vrusk to Paaglo, who has stepped forward to assist. "It must be activated by a signal of some sort."

Kro'khan turns around to face Toxica and the robots. "Our master ordered us to stay together," he says. "I do not understand, do you want us to disobey our master?"

The robot does not take long to make up its mind. "Your actions are of no consequence to the Unimind."

"The let us through this wall," demands Kro'khan.

The blue robot's reply is not at all what Kro'khan, Paaglo or Toxica expect: "As you wish."

The wall whizzes open of its own will, revealing a dark area bathed in a dim golden light.

Toxica nods to the others. "Let's go."

You stare into the shadowy recesses of the four walls surrounding you, but Yaundorr is nowhere to be seen.

"You realize we're trapped now, don't you?" says Paaglo, wiping blood from above ids left eyespot.

Kro'khan's mandibles curl into a hard grimace. "Am I reading too much into the story or did the blue robot describe his 'lineage' with pride?"

"Impossible to tell what's going on in those mechanical minds," says Toxica, wishing she could put her psycho-social skills to use.

Kro'khan nods. "At any rate, this could get deadly pretty quick. Once you get that self-destruct program set up on the Osprey, I think you should consider rigging it to some kind of dead man's switch. We don't have much leverage with the population as it is."

"That's a good idea. If we get a chance to rest here pretty soon, I should be able to finish setting up the program."

"Can you use your chronocom link to the Osprey computer to see if anyone's trying to get on board or tamper with the ship's systems?"

"The ship's defense program should detect any unauthorized entry, assuming the robots don't defeat the security. I'll set up the computer to notify all of us by chronocom if a threat to the ship is discovered."

Toxica taps a few keys on her chronocom and looks up, staring at her environment. All around you, strange plants are growing in tanks of liquid. "Why would robots be experimenting with hydroponics?"

Kro'khan shakes his head with a blank look. "This certainly is the oddest plant life I've ever seen."

There are beautiful orange thistles with complicated, wormy looking centers. Green melon plants, looking like holiday ornaments with multi-colored spikes and delicate hairy growths at their tops, have magenta cups filled with a smelly liquid. And all the plants have one thing in common--small weak-looking leaves.

The deep, golden light--unlike any sun you've ever seen--gives the place an eerie feeling.

"You feel like you're being watched?" asks Paaglo.

Toxica looks up at the luminous ceiling panels that are providing the lighting. "There could be cameras in here somewhere."

"No, it's not that," says the Dralasite. "It's something else. I'm not sure..."

You hear a dry, rustling sound behind you. You whirl around, but no one is there.

Toxica tries to shake off the spooky feeling and only half succeeds. "Let's split up, see what we can find."

[Paaglo INTUITION: 65%; Rolled: 44]

Paaglo stops near a noxious purple cactus with black spikes that are oozing a thick, gluey substance. Id bends closer and notices red stains on a few of the spikes. There are also what look like brown hairs on the gluey ooze.

Paaglo looks up and sees id is alone. "Kro'khan, come look at this."

The Vrusk appears from around a corner of curly vines and studies the plant carefully with his compound vision.

"The hairs, do you think their Yaundorr's?" asks Paaglo.

Kro'khan slides his environkit from his shoulders and begins to unpack a few tools. "There's only one way to find ou--"

Kro'khan is cut off by an abrupt rustling of leaves.

"YAAAAAAH!" comes Toxica's scream from somewhere in the room. "Let go of me!"

Paaglo and Kro'khan jump into action, madly searching the narrow aisles between the rows of plants.

They find Toxica struggling with the plants around her. From one side, a thick vine is constricting tighter and tighter around her waist. From the other side, the worm center of one of the orange thistles has wrapped itself firmly about her right forearm. Her imprisoned right hand reaches in vain for the knife sheaved at her thigh while her left arm does its best to block the plants snapping at her head.

Her eyes turn to Kro'khan and Paaglo. "Look out!"

One of the green melons opens into three sectors and clamps down on Paaglo's left arm. Kro'khan fends off and assault of towering black sunflowers with fangs and barely dodges the spikes of a purple cactus that swipes a branch at him.

The entire room comes to life, writhing with a concert of greedy vines, glistening spikes, and hungry jaws!