Local Bipeds Successfully Cling to Orbital Debris

The hairless primates of the North American tribal cluster have once again utilized archaic chemical explosions to propel themselves into the vacuum. Using a transport pod manufactured by a prominent billionaire warlord, a handful of 'astronauts'—a local term for those who endure high-velocity vibration—successfully nudged their craft against an aging, pressurized metal tube currently orbiting the planet.

This 'International Space Station' serves as a performative neutral zone where rival factions pretend to cooperate while their planetary leaders bicker over fictional resource credits back on the surface. The docking sequence, which the inhabitants watched with primitive religious fervor, is the mechanical equivalent of a toddler successfully placing a square peg into a square hole.

While the humans celebrate this 'giant leap,' they remain blissfully unaware that they are essentially splashing in the shallowest tide pool of the galaxy. Their vessel is powered by burning refined ancient biological sludge, a method so inefficient it makes one's sensory tentacles ache. They have swapped occupants, presumably to share stories of how difficult it is to consume liquid in zero gravity without drowning.

— Zog-7, Sector 7 Observer