Zero-Gravity Disco Danger

The rickety spaceship, affectionately nicknamed "The Rusty Bucket" by Gleep (though Astra suspected it was more of a "Leaky Bucket of Bolts"), sputtered and coughed its way through the inky blackness. Outside, the stars, usually so reliably sparkly, seemed a little dimmer, a tiny bit less enthusiastic. Astra, still in her ill-fitting space cadet uniform, peered out the viewport, a frown creasing her brow. The comet, that sparkly-tailed menace, was still a speck on the horizon, but it was a growing speck. And the kingdom's starlight? Well, it was starting to feel like someone had turned down the dimmer switch on the universe.

"Are we there yet?" Astra asked for the tenth time in as many minutes.

Gleep, hunched over a sparking console that looked like it had survived a meteor shower and then some, grunted. "There where, Princess-who-is-pretending-to-be-a-cadet? We are chasing a runaway celestial body. There is no 'there' until we catch it. And even then, it's just 'here' with less starlight theft." His voice, a gravelly rumble, was as comforting as a space slug’s hug.