Commander Cow stood on the deck of an outpost situated at the far edge of last wired network. She watched for the Marinators, earthlings, mostly. She listened for the distinctive hum of their pulse drive, veeeeeeeeeel, over and over. Primitives in need of real blood. Toothless beings with arificial mouths, rigged up like vampires. In the distance she heard some battle raging under an ever eclipsing moon. A game, probably, but nothing could be taken at face value. She was a wise old cow.
flash source: spacecow1.fla [1.60 MB]