Meteors slowly whirred past the star vessel. Their hurtling images only vaguely making impressions in the pilot's eyes before being forgotten forever. He sat idly in his seat, drumming fingers on the control panel. The stars that blinked beyond the meteors teased the pilot with the very fact that they were so far out of reach yet still visible. He whistled between his teeth and pretended that time would pass quicker, and instead of being four more days away, that his destination would materialize within the next five minutes.

He was an interspatial trucker and had already been travelling for six months. Four more days seemed inconsequential, but to him every minute had begun to feel like an eternity. The massive tank being towed by his star vessel was filled to the brim with fresh fuel gel, and such a volatile cargo required the pilot to travel at much slower speeds than he was accustomed to.

The hum of the vessel shook him on his seat and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. The seat felt too small, the cockpit felt too angular, his uniform felt too tight, and he wished he could sidle up to one of the passing meteors and stretch for a few minutes or a few hours or a few months. With an infinite supply of beer and cigarettes. Lulled with these thoughts, the pilot closed his eyes and began dozing.

He failed to notice the silent winged starship, black as a wraith and gleaming brightly with missiles, come astride his vessel. Nor did he see its own pilot gazing inquiringly in at him. The two ships whorled softly through space for some time, neck and neck, the vessel a tremendous gray slug, the starship a charcoal scorpion. Both pilots rested in the silence. A breath, gentle and cold was taken in, and was let out, hot and hungry.

As if he somehow felt this breath, or heard it, the pilot of the vessel opened his eyes. Instead of the blackness of space dazzled with smatterings of stars, there before him was the black starship. But, it was not the silver missiles nor the sleek, inky dark carapace of the ship that caught the man's attention. In illuminated clarity, he could see the starship's pilot, and he began to quiver uncontrollably.

A long, crocodilian face was staring at the man across the small span of space between their cockpits. Lurid and molten, the pair of red orange eyes burned in the face as wide as bonfires. Fangs that gleamed as brightly as the missiles traced along the sharp snout, the bones of a venomous smile. The rest of the hulking beast was obscured from view, but the man knew it had to easily be twice his size, if not more.

The man screamed once and reached for his transmitter. But, his reaction time was too little too late. The other pilot was out of his own vessel and into the vacuum of space within the breath of a moment. His great, reptilian form landed on the outside of the vessel's cockpit with a raucous clamor, causing the man within to drop his transmitter. It clattered uselessly beneath his seat. The creature spread its wings and eclipsed the man's entire view of the outside. No more stars, or black space, or meteors. He screamed again.

Behind the creature, it readied its tail, the blade on the end held stolidly and poised, ready for the plunge. It fell, ripping through the thick quartz glass with ease. It skewered the man through the chest, shattering his ribcage and shredding his heart. He was alive for only half a second more. Satisfied, the creature withdrew its tail and watched the man hang limply in his seat for a few moments, the red extending quickly down his chest, pooling gently beneath him, and dripping with softness away from his chair onto the floor. The creature could afford to relish this, being in space held no issues for him, at least not for a long while.

Eventually, the man's lower half was entirely sullied with red and the creature had grown bored. Using its tail, it deftly flicked a switch on the control panel, and the emergency airlock was opened in the cockpit's ceiling. Magazines and food wrappers were sucked out, and the man's body twisted in its seat belts, attempting to leave with the other debris.

Removing his tail, the creature leapt back to his own ship, reached inside, and removed a large, mechanical arachnid. With a push of its powerful legs, it returned once more to the vessel.

Too large to fit in the airlock itself, the creature simply pushed a button on the robot spider, and it came alive in a neon blue flash, the segmented legs jerking rigidly and the multi faceted eyes blinking with radiance. It crawled from the creature's massive claw, and with hooked feet, it clambered into the vessel and made its way to the control panel. Extending oblong and square fangs from rubber mandibles, the machine plugged itself into the vessel's computer.

Green light illuminated the dead man's face, highlighting his gaping mouth and wide eyes. The ship's computer spoke words at the corpse.

"Reroute processed. New destination: Planet Zebes. Arrival time: approximately two weeks."

The creature smiled to himself and looked at the passing meteors. Their images made no impressions in his luminous eyes, in fact, the giant hunks of rock could very well have not been there at all. His mind was far away, and the great prize within his grasp now was sure to win him favor.

Yes indeed, Mother would be proud, and Ridley knew well what her pride could bring to him.