“Well damn… didn’t think I’d ever say this…
but after all that Stargasm trash,
and Todd’s voice—Butt Pimple’s music actually sounds like a blessing.So tell me, sweetie…
how the hell did that rusty bucket Z-P-N-E-S manage to fly
ONE. MILLION. DAMN. LIGHT YEARS… alone?!That’s insane…
And I’m pretty sure our listeners are wondering the same thing.
Otherwise they’ll think we’re just talking bullshit here.Enlighten us, oh great and wise senpai Jackie…”
[Jackie cleared her throat theatrically, like she was about to deliver a lecture designed specifically to destroy Dick's self-esteem]“Alright, my dear void listeners…
and an equally void Dick…Fine. I’ll explain hyper—
something you’re going to misunderstand anyway,
but I’ll at least try to explain it
in a way even Dick can grasp.”
[Her words punched straight through Dick's self-respect, but he held it together]“So… what you call ‘hyper’…
It’s not movement.
It’s a state.
Like the feeling after your first cup of coffee.
Or a smile from someone you love.Let me put it the way Neil deGrasse Tyson would explain it—
the man Blindy worships like a religion.Imagine space…
as a sheet of paper.Yeah, that one—
the same kind you used in school to draw…
let’s call them crude anatomical doodles—instead of solving equations.Now imagine you need to get
from one edge of that sheet to the other.You can go in a straight line…
slow…
energy-consuming…
and painfully boring.If space travel worked like that,
no species would ever leave their own backyard.But if you fold the sheet—
bring the edges closer—
that distance turns into a short walk to the nearest store.Some brainiacs looked at origami
and invented the hyperdrive.The hyperdrive does one simple—yet beautifully insane—thing:
It bends space into a tube
and creates a wormhole.You don’t fly.
You dive.
You fall through space and time.
And once you’re in—
you only come out where that tunnel leads.Change direction halfway?
Sure.
If you feel like getting torn into quarks and bad memories.HYPERDRIVE CLASSES
Class L—beginner trash tier.
Jump range: about one parsec.
Reliability: none.
Luck: required.
If you survive—congratulations, miracle.Class C—up to ten parsecs.
Used on space buses, cheap freighters,
and taxis that break down three times on the way to grandma’s.Class B—one hundred parsecs.
Mid-tier military ships,
large transports,
wealthy show-offs with personal space limos.Class A—one thousand parsecs.
Elite level.
Mid-sized flagships,
next-gen fighters,
toys for major conglomerates.Class S—one hundred thousand parsecs.
Titans.
City-ships.
Nation-ships.And just a reminder…
our lovely duo destroyed two of those:
MH Outlook and MH Office—
leaving a hole in Macrohard™’s budget
the size of a supermassive black hole.Class X—myth and legend.
Half a million parsecs and beyond.
Considered impossible. Unstable.Mostly exists as a video game mechanic.”