Somewhere, a few miles away, a gargantuan monster of a raccoon sat in what appeared to be a cabin of a boat. He had, at one point, gotten his paws on a receiver, and leaned in close to the screen. As the blip from the shuttle's distress beacon popped up, the raccoon shot up like a rocket, and trudged out to the deck of a massive man-of-war, made of bleached bone and worn leather. He barked out, his voice literally shaking sand from the sails overhead. "Aw roight, lads! We've got 'em now! Full sails, git us south bound!" The crew got to work, and soon had the ship sailing over the sands, the gigantic raccoon watching the desert ahead from behind the wheel.