The rich vista of gas clouds and newly formed stars had passed him by virtually unnoticed as the shuttle docked at Nebula 7 station. He’d seen it all before, so many times, planets, supernovae, nebulas, star clusters, all the spectacular sights the galaxy had to offer. Their charms had worn off long ago as he worked the seemingly endless circuit of galactic super cons.
Once again the hotel-pod he’d booked didn’t provide free wi-net access. This was the thirty first century, for Cowell’s sake, not the Stone Age. He’d have to find a cozy stim joint on the station so that he could jack in and update his netline followers on his latest adventure. He couldn’t complain, really, it was a good life, and he enjoyed travelling.
Hopefully one day one of his comi-dramas would be picked up by the entertain-U studios and earn him enough credits that paying for wi-net in hotel-pods wouldn’t be an issue. They were small ambitions, but they were his.

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Ian Sharman

Ian is a freelance writer and artist. He founded Orang Utan Comics Studio with Peter Rogers in 2006, writes for their Eagle Award Nominated anthology Eleventh Hour and regularly inks for Panini’s Marvel Heroes comic.

Latest posts by Ian Sharman (see all)

• How the War Began - 30/12/15
• Prince Of Peace - 22/12/15
• Cogito Ergo Sum - 25/08/15
• Hayfever’s End - 17/08/15
• Regrets? I’ve Had A Few - 14/08/15