Scratchers. . .
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| art by Mighty Eroc |
My cup of basic* was getting cold and the cleaner-bots were no closer to rounding up all the scratchers than they were an hour ago. Scratchers, so named because of the noise they make when scampering about inside the hulls of ships unfortunate enough to get infested. Nobody even knows where they come from, or how to get rid of them for good. They aren't useful for anything, not even reprocessing for nutrient value; they taste terrible, and ruin any basic they come in contact with. Nice little buggers though, if you can get past their nasty appearance.
Same old, same old on the FEED. The Solar Council draws closer to its doomed future, all the while assuring us that everything is under control. Control my ass! Red Shift, Blue Shift, the Yellow territories, does anybody really give a crap?
I'm starting to feel more akin to the scratchers, a small creature in big quadrant with no apparent value or purpose....
Maybe I should go talk with that alien mystic we brought to the station, seemed like he knew something about purpose. what was his name again, Dam-Joohdi? Something like that, I'll go look for him when the bots are done.
*Basic - a pudding like high energy protein food dispensed on most ships. Cheap and easy to store.
THE END . . . . for now.
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