Kramer could feel himself falling in the blackness and turned in his sleep. His eyes momentarily half opened and he caught sight of a dull light in the darkened room. Two something . . . not sure . . . the numbers become pin points of light, and the pin points fill the air . . . stars, galaxies, the universe in a grain of sand. Yes, there are great sights to be seen just off the shoulder of Orion.
Kramer steered the ship with ease and turned it towards a veil nebula just off his starboard bow.
Roll 92 degrees port yaw . . . beware of aliens . . . there's a starman waiting in the sky . . . I'm the urban spaceman baby, I've got speed . . . foot on the accelerater . . . maximum warp, minimum weft . . . passing through clouds of newborn stars . . . a cosmic nursery . . . the planet of my dreams, the Earth, my Earth. This island Earth.
Then slower, taking time on his voyage to smell the daises. . . boldly going.
Ahead a supernova flared in the distance lighting up the whole universe for an instance before fading to a pinpoint. Forget it all for an instance. Sweet lottery of life!
Then in to view at the bottom of the window a small and slightly reddish planet with the faint outer halo of an atmosphere. Kramer touched the control panel, a vast layout of bright lights, dials and gauges and the ship responded, levelling out a thousand feet above the surface. He could see moutains, extensive plains, a deep gulley scarring it's surface. An alien Grand Canyon two thousand light years from home. It's so very lonely. He continued his orbit, now in total control, and skimmed the highest peaks, dived into the deepest vallies, banked and climbed, his engines scorching the rocks as he passed.
But all was not right. A red warning light was flashing and Kramer sensed trouble. He flicked the auto pilot on and left his position, making his way towards the rear of the ship, passing through doors that opened and closed with that hiss familiar to all Star Trek fans.
He smelled burning. He opened the final door and was faced with an inferno, the whole after-section, the engines, reactors and fuel tanks were ablaze. Gaping holes afforded him a clear view of an outer engine as it sheared from its laser rivets and cartwheeled in slow-motion down to the surface, leaving a burning trail in the alien sky.
The ships Tannoy blared out a message over and over. "It's the Mother Ship, it's the Mother Ship and Kramer ran. The ship was changing shape now. It was narrower than before and pipes that lined the interior of the disintegrating hull became tentacles reaching out to touch him.
"The Mother Ship, the Mother Ship." Gotta cut out of Carson City!"
Suddenly there were people everywhere. Some could be seen climbing into lifeboats hanging from davits just below the bridge like survivors from the Lusitania. The tannoy shouted: "will the last one off please turn out the lights." A line of uniformed men sprinted past and leapt into the void through one of the many rents in the burning wreck, parachuting in formation to the surface below. Judges now sat where the control panel had been and held up cards announding their scores. 9.2, 9.1, 8.9, 9.3. 1.2 . . . 1.2? The final judge was biased in favour of the Soviet Team who jumped next.
And the band played on. With a hey nonny nonny, and a hot cha-cha! T h e M o t h e r S h i p ! The voice was slowing down. Slurring the words until they became a low drawn out growl, vibrating the air around him and hurting his ears.
What was left of the ship shuddered and imploded and then vanished in a blinding white flash and Kramer found himself standing on solid ground.
