Miniature yellow-green suns morphed through the atmosphere and brought with them laughing death. Chuckling skulls sprayed the air, their rictuses bared in a diseased frenzy! They screamed, inspiring horror in the most stoic of folk! The citizens on the ground had no time to admire the magnificent destruction because they were busy dying. Another planet vaporized!!

But suddenly then the scene of our story shifted to a more boring setting because it's easier to write those: outer space where the warship Poloexoo sat plopped in orbit, stationed like the gigantic battlecruiser that it in fact was. “Great work, Commander,“ the sweating Admiral Kirieiemer called from his Admiral’s Chair. The Admiral’s Chair groaned under Kiririeme’s weight. It was not meant to support the weight of such authority.

“Thanks, sir.” Commander Chugsen didn’t care but had to pretend he did while he was on the clock. Typical job. He checked his watch and blinked, hoping the blink turned into a nap but it never did. Just a blink. One more hour and then he could go home. Planet XJXXaXNX was the latest failed civilization and it was the Empire’s job to clean it up! Lots of clean-up operations lately which made money for the investors, and when the investors are happy, so are the workers. At least according to investor logic. Chugsen was not happy so Chugsen inferred that investor logic was not for workers.

The bombardment ceased while the Configurators on the ground examined their handiwork. It was Chugsen’s task to keep the Configurators on task and also to keep them from going too nuts with configuring. Day 47 of this odious mission and still they had to play by the book. Chugsen repressed a quiet sigh and uttered a loud sigh instead. He opened a channel to the ground crew and this is what he said in the professional tone that he knew was required of him: “Status please, Alpha55.”

The reply was immediate and excited, very unprofessional but it communicated the information. Configurators could get away with anything, thought Chugsen with a purpleness. The reply said: “Green status Alpha major Bravo Bravo Alphador BRINGS IT ON HOME before the chicken COMES HOME to roost and the eagle EATS its young!”

“Thanks.” Chugsen flicked off the mic in a hidden rage. He could barely get through this job. These daily tasks just ended and there was never a satisfying resolution to any of them. He remembered what his friend Joro said about working Empire gigs. Joro had warned him. But Chugsen hadn’t listened, caught up in the image. He said to Admiral Kkehjhxbhj, “Yes sir Planet XHEJX is secure.”

“MOVE ON TO THE NEXT PLANET,” screamed Admiral Kxjrujx from his Chair three feet away.