"And you've endured the madness of the slip again?"
"Yes." Not silence, but humming. That damned humming!
The two of them sat looking, starlight-to-starlight, as the great pantheon of outerspace swept beneath the sails of their vessel like a sponge pushed under the water, cushioned by the oncoming stellartide.
"It's all about superimpositions, arcs of an epic bildungsroman," she mused, arching an eyebrow as the dull amber plasmatic phased towards a red core.
And throughout it all, they'd voyaged this far, 1066 regions. Even a skeptical explorator could fault them for their quantity, but not their quality. (After all, who wants to be a King when you can be an Emperore?)
They often entered new lands like aliens at an unfamiliar dinner table, quick to eat the food, but even faster to say a gracious thank-you for the meal.
And they were always hungry for new opportunities others could not see.