Terry pranced about the Voidship, currently docked in one of the many shadier Starports around Gustanov. At this altitude, gravity was barely felt. His ferro-magnetic boots made a soft clicking sound each time he landed a step and space walking generally meant at least one foot had to remain in contact with the floor – lest one floated away.
Grimskarg was rummaging through an open electrical panel at the rear of the ship, his massive behind blocking sight of whatever he was doing. Estrenelle was already strapped into her seat, fiddling with a strange Aeldari gadget. Terry noticed there was only one more open seat. Weren’t there three of them? He counted his fingers.
Millions of questions echoed through Terry’s mind.
“Why is this ship shaped like a shipping container? Wait… this IS a shipping container?!”
“Don’t we need a Navigator for void traverse?”
And lastly, the most important part…
“Why the hell am I here?“
His mind drifted back to The Existential Crisis, where Grimskarg had excitedly shoved a glowing stone into his face.
“See dis?” growled Grimskarg. “Dis rock’z got da powah ta juice up a voidship – biggest zoggin’ one dere eva wuz!”
According to him, a Grot had come across this stone from a crashed Rogue Trader ship, and a survivor mentioned something about a “Planet wiv da shine.” One world matched this description, and Grimskarg had dragged the trio onto his shipping-container excuse of a voidship, apparently to “help wiv da zoggin’ gov’ment trubble-paperz fer travellin’.”
Having served as a chef on board a Rogue Trader’s Voidship himself, Terry offered a silent prayer to the crashed ship. Technically, he was still employed but he had stopped receiving work instructions months ago. Terry did not pursue this, as his Rogue Trader boss operated with mysterious intent – and after all, he was still paid every month.
He slowly walked toward the front of the rusted shipping container. There was a single panel and a big red button, with no other instruments or monitors typical of any spacefaring vessel. He squatted down and peered under the big red button.
Estrenelle had put away her gadget and was staring absentmindedly out of a square opening, probably intended as a window. Terry waved at her and pointed at the button.
“It’s not even connected to anything?” he whimpered.
“Matter not, my friend. All is well,” replied Estrenelle with a smile.
Terry staggered to the remaining seat.
“This doesn’t make sense. I think I’m gonna throw up.”
“If it makes you feel better, you can excrete right through this open window!” said Estrenelle.
Terry’s face gained the same greenish hue as a Death Guard for a moment. Weren’t they in space? What was he even breathing? Resigning himself to the fact that logic somehow didn’t apply that day, Terry strapped in and fastened his seatbelt.
“Youse ladz ready? Den let’z stomp!” bellowed Grimskarg as he rushed past them toward the control panel. Without hesitation, he pressed the big red button and Terry shut his eyes as hard as he could.
Meanwhile, from the Starport’s observation window, a human spotted a strange glimmer as a shipping container suddenly glowed yellow and vanished without a trace. She rubbed her eyes and stared.
Maintenance worker FYP-12521 Stellar Linsaless shrugged and returned to her duties.