3 Jun 2003
I know. Where’s the captain?
He’s in the galley but he’s not alive.
He got a frying pan to the head. It’s not pretty.
Shit. It’s just you and me then, man. Who’s in charge? What rank are you? We’re both lieutenants aren’t we?
I got promoted last month.
O yeah. Congratulations.
Thanks. Fuck. I’m in charge. Shit. Okay, that’s fine. I knew this mission would be good for my career.
Yeah right. Donna’s parents will be cool about the two of you getting hitched when they know you have power.
Donna. Shit. We have to sort this out.
I know. We’re about to go critical.
No, you don’t understand. Before we shipped out Donna told me she was pregnant.
Yeah? Congratulations, man!
No, well, yes. Thanks. It is groovy. The only problem is that if she has a child outside of wedlock then the Family will take her.
Shit. I didn’t think.
Neither did I. She needs to get hitched pronto and she’s only ever going to marry me. I need to get back. Right. What are the power levels?
Fair to middling but dropping fast.
Really fast. Captain.
Yes, aye aye. What the fuck are we going to do. Hangabout, what if we flushed the gravity ballast and…..no, that won’t work. Shit!
In my distressed and rather depressed professional opinion I’d say that when that big rock hits us we are not going to be in good shape.
What? How long? When it is going to hit us?
O, about now.
That was fun.
Ugggh. Your irony is not appreciated. Owww.
Look at you! I really hope I don’t look like you. Bleed much?
No. I ain’t got time to bleed.
Wait, what’s that from? Don’t tell me, I know. Wait, wait, I know it. Wait. Shit, there’s more of them. Hold on!
Stabilisers fucked. Life support wobbly. Thrusters coughing.
That big black one over there, I reckon. I can’t be sure because my wingmirrors are smashed.
Looks cozy. Can you land there?
I know I’m pretty shit at flying these things but to think that I could miss an entire planet….fuck. Yeah, I can probably hit it.
Make it so.
Wait, wait, I know that one as well. It’s right on the tip of my tongue.
Fly, dammit, fly!
O yeah, right. I got it Capitan.
Should it be so warm in here? And why’s that flashing?
Pants. Stabilisers fucked. Life support wobbly. Thrusters coughing. Radiation leaking.
Bejesus Christ! Get a grip on things!
Captain, after that fourth attack, I have little to work with. What with the complexity of that wormhole that I just flew through and the fact that at that time only two thrust-jets were operational out of sixty-four, you’re lucking to still have only one nose.
And with All Due Respect, I’d like to see you have a go.
Ummm. Right. I need to get a grip on myself. Hang on, why’s that one flashing?!
Easy. It’s only the….no….surely not.
What’s the problem?
Stabilisers fucked. Life support wobbly. Thrusters coughing. Radiation leaking.
And we’ve run out of petrol.
We’re all out of 16 star. We are bumbling along on fumes and that’s going to hit us as well! Grab something!
Join the Astral Navy and see the stars! Not this fucking close! Get us out of the cosmos now! Land!
Okay but hang on. We’re about to fuck with the atmosphere. I might get the angle a little fucked up.
I order you to do it perfectly!
Yes! Yes! That’s just what we need. Loud voices. Scream! We’re going to spatter! Take a fucking pill man. Chill.
Yes. My demeanor is unbecoming of a lazy dropout no-good chancer who finds himself trying to save the future of the earth whilst being unable to save his own arse. I’m not trained for this sort of pressure. That’s why I never made it past the exam.
Mate, at least you turned up. I got lost on the way there.