God, Love and Starships

The great Grunkiahu bird shot off like a bolt, flapping frantically around a cluster of tree buildings.
The rider on the black beast push a button on his baton, and a spray of gray material shot out, cocooning Quana's body like Spider Man's lasso. The hunter jerked the weapon back, and she went flying from the saddle with a scream.
He watched with horror as his girlfriend fell helplessly through the air, her control rod shattering on a tree branch on the way to the forest floor.
"Quana! No!"
The hunter hooked his baton to the saddle of his black mount, leaving Quana to dangle by the gray stretchy substance, bouncing and swinging with the momentum of her fall like someone at the end of a bungee cord.
Paralyzed with fear, Matt could only stare helplessly as the hunter pressed a button on the baton, drawing the gray cocoon into his waiting clutches.
With a look of puzzlement, Nubsa craned her head around, sniffing and blinking at him. When she saw the empty seat, her eyes widened, her feathered visage forming the expression of a mad horse about to stampede.
"No," he gasped in terror. "No!"
Nubsa only nodded, blasting air out of its nostrils.
"No!" he yelled.
The creature responded by mooing in his face, filling his nostrils with the smell of melted plastic and jasmine.
All color drained from his face as he saw the bird whip its head forward, furiously beating its wings.