Person #1: You're talking about shoving me in a torpedo and launching me at a planet!
Person #2: Details! Now shut up and get in there. -- RecklessPrudence
"No," said Rael. "I'm a little tired of being treated like some immensely indestructible thing for everyone else's convenience."
"But you are a-- mmmumf mmmf mfflmmff."
"Blakely. Can it." The captain took a deep breath. "You're right. We should have consulted you. But these Sargasso-style pirates have rigged it so that only the smallest possible transit could get through. And what we have is a torpedo... and someone who can become a liquid at will."
"You understand that my complete tolerances list is corporate-classified and I don't know if I will survive what you're planning."
"We can add a parachute to the torpedo that will deploy once it reaches a certain elevation. But you'll have to scrunch up a bit." Engineer Blakely at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "Er. Rather a lot."
Rael groaned in anticipation. "How much will I have to... 'scrunch up'?"
"Er. Well. Um. Can you stand being a liquid with your folded-up Wave of the Future warmup onesie?"
Humans. Of course they could think up plans like this. "So you're sending me into enemy territory. On a stealth mission. With only the most visible and obvious clothing to protect me from the elements. Not to mention its lack of capacity for concealment?"
"...maybe.... there'll be mud?" squeaked Blakely.
"Mud," echoed Rael.
"Improvisation meets inspired desperation. I'm sure none of us wish to get sold into slavery. Or reprocessed for their component atoms."
"Mud..." said Rael.
"Do you have a better plan?" asked the Captain.
Unfortunately... he didn't. He had to go and perform a human plan with nothing but his memory of human habits and decision-making processes to guide him. And four words that might, if the stars aligned, help him on his mission:
What would Drongo do?
(Muse food remaining: 21. Submit a Prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories! Or comment below!)