Frank sat there and watched the Sun fizzling and puffing, and let out a small sigh. He’d been employed by Galactic Gas Incorporated for the last fifteen years and this had been his big break. Only 2,732 years old and already he was overseer for the excavation and transport of gaseous excrement from a plasma giant. This was an achievement in anyone’s books, but a few mere centuries later and it was drying out. What on earth could he do?
The fuel mined from stars had since shortly after time began, been used as the staple power source for all space and planet based transport in the cosmos. Of course there were other stars out there, but this had been Frank’s. He’d been the one that scouted the galaxy. It had been his job to relocate the indigenous elements (or, at least report it as so) and it had been his new method of extraction that had made this star viable. Now where would he look?
Frank sat in his Explorer class vessel and watched with a touch of sadness as the star flickered and flustered out of existence, leaving nothing but ‘nothing’ where it had been for the past who knows how many millions of years. Reaching for his sandwich, Frank punched up a galactic chart and proceeded to scour the next system of planets along. His multiple eyes shot this way and that, searching for a star of worth, while his second stomach digested his green and purple snack.
“Yes!” He screamed, startling only himself,” that system will do nicely, now, how to ‘relocate’ the indigenous on the green and blue planet?”