Narrator:A battle rages at the core of our galaxy. The immense swarm of Dark Matter Paan'uri outnumbers and out masses the ships of the Fleetmind by enough orders of magnitude that you'd think "magnitude" was something your busload of collegiate Armorball players could order at Tacobufa on the way to the game.
Narrator:The weapons it is fought with are invisible and silent, which means there isn't much to see.
Narrator:Nothing to see. . . Right up until the Fleetmind loses a ship.
Narrator:Or two.
Narrator:Or three.
Narrator:Or ten.
Petey:This sector is lost. Regroup at BT-31-X.
Captain Kevyn:We're losing, aren't we.
Petey:No, we're winning very expensively.
Petey:We've worn down Paan'uri forces to the point that it will take them several more hours to destroy the galaxy.
Petey:Our own forces are reduced by thirty-five percent but mass-production of teraport field projectors has begun in earnest.
Captain Kevyn:You can produce enough projectors in a few hours to blanket the entire galactic core?
Petey:No.
Vice-Lord Ihm'g'd'p'fnar:Hello, Petey. Hello, Captain. Your projectors are finished and in place.
Petey:Thank you, Vice-lord.
Petey:I finally convinced the F'Sheri-Ganni that we were at war. All gate-copy mechanisms in the five Buuthandi have been operating at full capacity.
Petey:The galactic core is now completely recovered. Every Paan'uri within 600 light years is dying or dead.
Narrator:The battle ends decisively, and, in a lucky break for the cartoonist, it ends without a spectacular explosion.
Captain Kevyn:You know. . . Now that I'm not worried about everybody dying here, this place is kind of pretty.
