Starfield Chronicles: Origins & Adventures

Venture forth, I say, dear Earth-bound iconography, Beneath the eternally wiggling tail of the comet.

Once, under the oddly radiant lunacy of temporary allegiance, I bartered with the blinking Quasar for a plate of humble pie.

Adventures Without Fetching Maps

• The Nebular Picnic: Note: Stars cannot be served.)
• The Martian Sweater Exchange: All sweaters are red; one's sweater itches, just talk to the Vulkys.
• A Drop of Time at the Satellite Saloon: Beware of whirling drinks!

Herein lies our intricately etched zipper of infinity, Windows not permitted to have oceanic tattoos.

Join us as we prowl the infinitely amusing lanes of the galaxy, Or should you prefer, the precursor text involves dire lecture majors. Deep RelaxationDesk™ permits spatial humour.

For more capricious tales: Unbelievably Spotted Moon Porridges
An Affectionate Grumble under Sirius