Everyone’s asleep.

Dave’s snoring on the floor again.

Stompington left his book open on the table.

The ship’s still humming though.

You don’t notice how loud engines are

until nobody’s talking.

I was staring at the control panel earlier.

There are a lot of switches here.

More than I remember installing.

Some of them I recognize.

Some of them I’m pretty sure I wired

at three in the morning

when something else was on fire.

The rocket.

The wormhole drive.

The thing that lets us cross half the galaxy

before Dave finishes a sandwich.

I remember trying things.

I remember sparks.

I remember a lot of things breaking.

But the moment where it all started working…

that part’s a blur.

Sometimes I sit here at night

trying to remember what any of this does.

And the truth is…

I’m not always sure.

How long does luck last?

How long does it stay?

How many wrong turns

still go the right way?

One day the engines

are gonna go quiet

Dave thinks the ship listens to me.

Like it knows my voice or something.

He saw me hit a switch once

and the stars folded in half.

Next thing we knew

we were somewhere new.

He still tells that story

But he can only say ooga

Truth is…

I didn’t even know what that switch did.

Stompington never says much.

But sometimes he just watches the engine gauges.

Because one day something in here

is going to stop working.

And when it does…

everyone’s going to look at me.

How long does luck last?

How long does it stay?

How many wrong turns

still go the right way?

Someday something’s going to go wrong.

A light will turn red.

Something important will start making a noise

it’s never made before.

And everyone’s going to look at me.

Because this whole ridiculous machine

was my idea.

How many wrong turns

still go the right way?

One day the engines

are gonna go quiet

And I’m the one

who built this damn thing

There’s another switch glowing on the console.

Hmm..

Never seen it before.

…

Well.

That’s usually how the good ones start.

Everyone