Issue 1

"Ana-Log this!" Heavy booms through a laugh, while mimicking the uppercut one of the team had delivered at the same time as the quippy line! He wipes a tear from his eye as he reaches for his drink.

"That was a damn fine line! I’ll have to remember to use it next time!"

He eyes the huge glass of Bottom Brew, a murky green liquid that goes down better when you don’t look at it all too hard.

"Ana-Log this!" he says, with a slighter chuckle, and then a long sigh of contentment after a drink.

"That was a mission for the books. Great work, team. To us!" he says, raising his glass for a toast!

"Ehh, those digi-whatsits need to get off their high horse. Woulda saved us the trip."

Rickie grabs his mug of mead "Thanks, Gus."

"To us! And hopefully a longer vacation."

"Oh, I don’t mind a trip… so long as we get our chips." Heavy responds, fishing out some of the ¢ they’d made this mission, before flicking it in the air with practiced skill.

Ptalia hi-fives the waiter as soon as he has a free hand; "GB, my man! Is this actually spicy this time?" Ptalia says looking suspiciously at the soup "Last time you made me sign a waiver for nothing. I dont wanna be able to feel my toungue after eating this"

A young dinosaur walks into the bar and heads to the table with the Kosmosaurs. "Uhm, are you guys the Kosmosaurs I'm looking for? I'm supposed to meet Heavy, Ptalia, Rickie and the Professor here." He says in a somewhat shy voice. "Am I pronouncing those right?"

"I've been sent here by HQ. You guys are supposed to be the best squad to train under." He looks at them with eager eyes. "The name's Frank."

Frank is in full gear and looks like he's about to go on a mission. Looking around he notices that he's way over-dressed. "Did I just hear you say you're on vacation? Did I miss the action? Oh man.... Just my luck!"

"Don't know how you stomach that stuff!" Heavy says, making a face at Ptalia’s soup.

"I wasn’t right for a week last time." he follows up, tenderly patting his stomach.

Grim times…

"The best in the business! That’s us! Come have a seat, hatchling. We don’t bite!"

He guffaws and then slaps the new recruit on the back, good natured:

"Thats the spirit! I’m Heavy. You got the rest of us right, too. And don’t you worry; those Broccoloids will be kicking up a fuss before you know it. And we’ll be on our way!"

Frank just barely manages to keep his balance after Heavy's pat on the back. "Oh good, I was worried there for a minute." He sits down with a sigh of relief. "I definitely want to kick some Broccoloid butt!"

"One blue Dyno-Soar sportsdrink, please." He asks the waiter.

"'Please'? Oh man, don't be too nice to GB, or we'll never get rid of him!" Ptalia says with a laugh and a wink to the waiter, before introducing herself; "Name's Ptalia with a silent P. I'm either flying us toward something, or shooting at it. "

"And sometimes she’s flying us towards something while shooting at it!" Heavy guffaws, and then drinks deep.

"Might be that some other group of crooks blips our radar before the Broccoloids!" Heavy tells the new guy.

"You’ve read the manual? Then, you know what’s out there!"

Stanley shuffled back into his seat as he returned from the restroom, long neck turning to glance from the new recruit over to Heavy. "The 'manual?' Please. Do describe to me in a written paragraph, the sensation of landing on a world unknown to spacefarers since the dawn of hyperdrive. Where can I find the subsection on beholding the birth of an artificial star?" He speared one of his fried extruded protein puffs with his fork.

"It is accurate on one important count, though." He tapped his temple. "Don't forget your eye protection."

"Listen here, kid. We're da best of da best. So command must sees somethin in ya to send ya our way. Try not to disappoint, eh?"

"Hey Gus! Make dat tree waivers! Ptalia and I gotta initiate da new guy!" Rickie yells across the cafe. Then to Frank, "Dis soups to die for."

"There is that. Don’t forget your eye protection." he starts counting things on his huge fingers.

"Don’t get shot. And Don’t Panic.

I like that last one best. Sums it all up. Drink, drink!"

Frank is about to reach for the manual, somewhere in his backpack when he realizes the Professor doesn't literally want him to look it up. He never understood why they still had paper manuals, when every other book has been digital for decades.

"I won't let you down!" He says happily and then pats the helmet fastened to his pack. "I've got this night-vision helmet. It comes with a safety visor." But the smile on his face quickly fades when a steaming iron bowl of soup is put in front of him. "Uhm... Yes, sure! Bottoms up?" He says while signing the waiver, not wanting to make a bad impression and puts the bowl to his lips.

Ptalia signs the new waiver, lifts the bowl with both hands, and slurps...

Stanley flicked down his goggles in preparation for the spit take.