I haven’t seen another ship since departing the station. But the scanners
inundated with debris signals, so the shields are warming up. But that’s
all that’s out there. Just another lonely stretch of space. You really have
to make friends out of these. It’s the only way to get by out here.

Remnants of a fighter. The wings a short distance away. Then the rest of it,
strung out over a blue-green nebula. A disemboweled cruiser lies ahead, light
from the gas cloud floods through the hollow. It’s quicker to fly through rather
than round. The other side presents a ship graveyard, left to rest in this
silent aftermath.

Every wreckage is a story. Of lasers carving up cockpits. Of chain guns mutilating
engines. Torpedo’s rupturing pod bay doors. And…well, that’s new.Like a thousand
tiny maws chewed the hull wide open. No sense in hanging around. Lets go.


Music listened to as I wrote this:



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