The Fuelrat commander entered and nodded to the comms officer, "Let's hear the message."

He tweeked his equipment until a faded voice crackled over the static, "...hyperdicted by Thargoids... ...trapped in Witchspace... fuel..."

The comms officer sighed. "The message just repeats. We tried to contact him, tell him there's no way we can get fuel to him. Either he can't hear us, or he doesn't want to hear us. What can we do?"

The Fuelrat avoided eye contact with the comms officer. "If you were in the same position as that stranded pilot, you'd grasp at straws as well."