Controlled Chemical Explosion Propels Fleshy Specimens Toward Low-Orbit Tin Can

The local tribal entities are at it again. This morning, a group of bipedal specimens will be strapped into a pressurized metal cylinder and propelled by controlled chemical explosions toward their leaking, aging orbital outpost. It is a spectacle of high-velocity hubris.

The venture, orchestrated by a prominent tribal resource-hoarder, aims to replenish the International Space Station—a structure that resembles a pile of discarded kitchen foil held together by hope and bureaucratic momentum. Viewing of this primitive ascent is available to all local inhabitants via their glowing pocket rectangles.

We continue to observe this Crew-12 cycle with the same detached curiosity one might reserve for watching a colony of insects attempt to navigate a ceiling fan. They call it progress; we call it an expensive way to achieve weightlessness without leaving the gravity well of their own insignificance.

— Zog-7, Sector 7 Observer