LOOK AT ALL THE PRETTY STARS
“Twinkle, Twinkle, really big star..don’t blow up until I’m afar,” Jake hummed-sang to himself, as he cut the side thrusters, the life support, all the unnecessary instruments in the ship…all the unnecessary ones. At this moment.
At this moment, when he needed to get the fuck away into safe dark space before this one blows the shit out of him.
Jake’s job was to collect energy, causing near dead suns to give off their final energies in one great Battery Recharging sublimation into final flame out. All he had to do was fly the Collector into the right area (“alignment with Federal Central still a go” said Leeza, his co-almost dead cohabitant), drop the Servilenuke right into the heart of the sun (Pink Floyd blasting away as he did so..”oh, the oldies are still the best) and then getting the hell out of there. Let the Collector collect the energy blast. He just wanted to keep collecting heart beats at this point.
The ship was crippled. The planet he was circling around, it’s gravity was too strong. He waited too long, got hit by that fucking meteor, concentrated too long on screwing Leeza for a “job well done”…and now they were both screwed. He put all the energy into the drive to get them out of here, pushed this and pulled that and commanded the computer to haul ass…
Nova, so bright.