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| Strip Content: (16644) |
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| Approved by: |
DaveKellett |
| Last modified at: |
2011-04-06 17:52:14 |
| Status: |
This strip is not currently available for transcription. |
Panel 1 |
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Maker |
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He has never piloted before. But then, he's only been alive for fourteen hours. ...and no others are left to return the spirit. |
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Panel 2 |
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Maker |
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And while he understands the ship's controls, he makes no attempt to understand how the ship itself works. How it travels beyond light...yet remains matter.
May its maker be blessed, it is beyond him. |
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Panel 3 |
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He exits the atmosphere and leaps the ship. But like every leap, it's one not only of space but of faith.
And his faith was in a poor path home. |
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Panel 4 |
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Maker |
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NARRATOR: |
In the imperfect vacuum between systems, the ship intersects an errant piece of ore, not 50 mm wide. |
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Panel 5 |
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Maker |
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In infinitessimal instants, objects meet in an extraordinary dissection: the ore, a bulkhead. The ore, a display. The ore, a forehead. And so on toward the ring.
It's a testament to the ship's maker that the damage barely ripples out.
But like its pilot, this is now a dead ship, and it immediately begins to slow. |
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