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The black void. A dangling ship, tip-toeing around commerce. Unrestrained landing lights, so harsh, so footlight, so carved out by shadows of floating bodies. Needling puppets skittering across the back wall of the control room, actors across a stage. Settlers, merchants, pirates, lawyers – they all eat, they all crap. There will be mating, berthing, and dancing of fools. All things petty. All things writ large. All things sintering down to a cold and singular fact: two ships meet in the night.
An antique UFO