Domminic Jagger

Sitting in my Skiff, the "Polar Express", I put my feet back up on the console and crack open another beer. Space is quiet and lonely and the droning of my mining lasers are starting to make me hypnagogic, so I turn on some oldies music; I think they called it Punk Rock back then. The sound from a band called, "Social Distortion", pipes through the speakers. I lean my head back and take a long pull from my can of Extra Stout Glacier Dark and stare out at the rock I'm blasting into ISK. Centering the synth-straw stetson on my head, I think to myself with a grin, "Damn, it's good to be a Space Cowboy!".