“Señor Lamont!” The security specialist gasped. “Thank goodness. Send for help!”
As Lamont watched the silver globe descend from its nest in the ceiling of the shuttle, he wondered how many times he would repeat the ritual. Over the course of months he had been aboard Westward, it had become a routine for him to stumble out of his quarters in the morning and take the lift down to the command deck, where technological marvel, architectural genius and cosmic splendor held common space. But that common space had become commonplace, he reflected; something he barely took a moment to acknowledge on his way to the coffee dispenser.
Now he was establishing a new routine. One in which he would climb into the underbelly of the asteroid pod, make the 37-minute journey across empty space to an alien structure of unknowable age and unbelievable size, and gain access to its interior through what Ed described as an “electromagnetic membrane.” One in which he would get into this lift and summon what looked like a magical interface, directing it to take him to a wonderland of unearthly fascinations. Yet somehow, by the mere fact that nothing unexpected was happening, the situation was beginning to feel almost normal. Was there nothing in this universe, he mused, that was immune to basic human adaptiveness?
The reverie was interrupted by the scene that greeted his eyes as the curved portal of the shuttle snapped open to reveal Rico Estevez. His muscular form was straining valiantly, but appeared to be buckling inevitably under the combined mass of multiple miniature creatures that were tenaciously clinging to him. Lamont’s cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he watched Rico stagger this way and that under the overwhelming assault, ultimately sinking to his knees before the lift.
“Señor Lamont!” The security specialist gasped. “Thank goodness. Send for help!”
The newspaperman shook his head regretfully. “It’s curtains for you, I’m afraid,” he said. “Good show, though.”
“We’ve got him, boys!” Jamie Downs crowed, his stick-like brown arms wrapped tightly around the thick cords of Rico’s neck. “Let’s tie him up!”
“With what?” Asked his twin brother Everett, whose entire body was wrapped around Rico’s left arm.
“I ain’t a boy!” Tessa Jackson objected from the opposite arm.
“You weigh as much as a full-grown man,” Rico grunted, trying to push himself up.
“Quiet, you!” Scolded Reese Howard. The toddler was clinging to Rico’s right leg, which she then proceeded to vigorously bite.
That's some pretty good use of the format. Couldn't have a scene like that in a comic