As Captain Blomar descended the Hubidiot's mountain, his gaze wandered along the horizon. Somewhere in the distance he could see various piles of junk, some of them looked like tiny ant hills filled with busy little people going about their lives. He saw his proud ship, which was diligently being worked on, he hoped, but was quite sure was not the case despite his faith in Schrotti and friends. He saw a faint straight line that connected the Nori to the Bar where his men had picked up Mr. Clap. His focus shifted along the stairway to the foot of the mountain. What met his gaze was a scene of utter destruction, neatly organized in a grid pattern. He could speculate quite precisely on what moronic idea had possessed the dumbest of his subordinates, and, in an archaic way, it was right, it pleased him. Perhaps once, he would have looked at the unapologetic violence unleashed upon nature here as an act of terrorism, but all he felt was heart-warming catharsis. Retribution for time wasted and energy spent on climbing a pointless mountain to meet a pathetic excuse of a ghost man. It was a fitting, almost graceful show of disdain, to unearth and irradiate a man's front yard, a clear message to be remembered by. Blomar approved.
The Group made it back safely to the Nori, and were welcomed by a couple of security bots that Schrotti and friends had apparently conjured up from some old scrap they had found lying around.
The security bots weren't taking any chances when it came to their job and stopped the group from proceeding further, much to everyone's dismay. A lengthy identification process ensued. It didn't help much that Schrotti had apparently followed a rather 'practical' design process when conceiving of the 'Rusty Menace Mark I', and chose to forgo intelligence in favour of a more brutish look and behaviour.
As such, the Bot's did a fine job, but lacked the conversational skills to speed the user experience to a pleasurable level. Blomar's increasingly angry queries and pleads with the decidedly stupid Robots yielded no appreciable results, except for irritating the poor machines. Which resulted in them huddling together for a minute like a football team, putting their scythe like arms around each other for a minute, deciding on a course of action, and shouting a suspiciously racist, barely recognizable, anti-biological lifeform war cry, before returning as a group to Blomar and taking him away into custody abort the Nori to await further instructions.
Bonnet shrugged, got back into the pilot seat of his still dirty and somehow smug looking transport drone, waved the others aboard and got back to the Nori alongside Rackham's Drone, which seemed to be equally pleased with itself. Bonnet guessed that even machines could enjoy a good workout. It is nice to move your body, and it takes a while to get the juices pumping when you were a 1000T nuclear-powered multipurpose mining and transport machine.
It took another five hours before anyone notified Schrotti that his 'Rusty Menace' bots, had thrown Blomar into the pen and kept him there in silent isolation. Shortly after, the crew gathered in the Nori's cantina.