The vacuum of space doesn’t carry sound but inside the neural-link of the MTLRTTLSNK the air was screaming with overdriven distortion. It was a masterpiece of bio-mechanical engineering, 120 Meters long, segmented, its hull made from carbon-cobalt scales, propulsion by the ingenious Harmonic Resonance Drive and fueled by high-octane sonic vibration. Its form bore all the advantages of a giant metal rattlesnake in space. One of its passengers was Houba, his skin a weathered shade of cobalt from years of radiation exposure, crinkled as he squinted through his red-tinted ocular implants. He adjusted his grip on his guitars. Behind him sat Petbot, a series-18 percussion droid with more rhythm in his hydraulic actuators than a pulsar and a supernova together. He tapped a relentless beat against the snake’s chassis with titanium sticks. 

Leaving the rings of Saturn had been easy. The icy debris acted like a natural amplifier for the MTLRTTLSNK’s engine. As they banked away from the gas giant, the ship’s segments groaned, spitting golden sparks that trailed into the void like a comet’s tail. "Petbot, keep that tempo steady," Houba growled over the comms. "If we drop below 140 BPM, the gravitational shear from the rings will tear the tail off." - "Processing," Petbot replied, his green optical sensors flickering. "Recalculating blast beats for optimal escape velocity for Saturn slingshot. We are currently at 104% efficiency. Rock and/or Roll, Houba."

Their first waypoint was the Old Moon Spacestation, a rusted derelict of the early 21st-century lunar colonies, now repurposed as a refueling hub for the fringe-dwellers. "The Old Moon isn't a rock anymore. It's a graveyard with a gift shop." as Houba wrote in his Log. They didn't dock for the pitstop. The space rattlesnake did a high-speed fly-by refueling, snagging a line of liquid hydrogen as they whipped around the station. The station's crew watched in awe as the massive metallic serpent hissed through the silence, its red eyes glowing like dying stars.

As they passed Earth, the mood changed. Once the cradle of the music they played, the planet was now a marble of swirling storms and quiet ruins. Houba switched to the bass, playing a slow, mournful progression. They didn't stay long. The Rattlesnake’s scales rippled, shifting from a dull bronze to a shimmering gold as they caught the solar winds, pushing them faster toward the outer rim. 

The destination loomed: Jupiter. The Great Red Spot looked like a giant, unblinking eye watching their approach. This was the stage. The atmospheric pressure of Jupiter provided the medium they needed - a dense, gaseous sea where sound could finally live again. "We're hitting the atmosphere in sixty seconds," Houba shouted. "Rhythm sequence locked," Petbot signaled, his silver arms moving in a blur. "The vibration levels are reaching critical mass. The Rattlesnake is ready to strike." With a thunderous chord that could be felt in the very marrow of their bones the MTLRTTLSNK plunged into the clouds of the king of planets. To call them explorers would hardly be adequate, they were the loudest thing in the solar system and they were absolutely willing to carry that to Jupiter.