"Blimey, I'll never get used to zero G!"

Tachanka paused, "I would think not, at least not so soon. We've only been up here for a few minutes."

"'oo's idea was it to put the blasted self-aware computer in space anyway?"

Tachanka shrugged, his thick cosmonaut suit barely showing his action. Turning around, he closed the airlock behind them. A sharp gust of oxygen flooded the airlock as the pair removed their helmets. Thatcher's beard fluttered in the gusts while Tachanka's helmet remained unexpressive.

Thatcher looked out the nearest porthole, "look down there, Earth, that's where we belong. Not up here in some blasted cage of technology!"

"Lets hurry, then" Tachanka said as he drew his mounted LMG off his back.

The two turned their attention to the long corridor of the space station. There was a single room at the end, the entire station was illuminated with white florescent light. That is, aside form the ominously dark server room.

The two began a hurried pace as they floated down the hall at. As they passed the occasional porthole, they took glances back at the Earth. Each glance brought relief as the mushroom clouds had not appeared yet, and panic as they did not know how much time was left.

"Blasted Skynut," Thatcher remarked, "hopefully Mute's shitboxes will buy us enough time."

Tachanka prepared a response but remained quiet as they entered the server room. Insulated wires lined the walls, green LED's illuminated the room as opposed to the florescent lighting of the rest of the station.

"There she is," Thatcher said with a grin in anticipation of the electronic destruction that was to occur.

"I don't see an off switch," Tachanka pondered, "how do we stop it?"

"Don't be daft, shoot it with your LMG!"

Tachanka glanced down at his gun, peering through his helmet, "I didn't bring any ammo, TSA wouldn't allow it."

"But they let you take the fookin' LMG?!" Thatcher let out a sigh and braced his forehead, "how about water, did we bring any?"

"Нет, I didn't think we'd be here that long."

"Blast, we're running out of time! How 'bout piss, 'ave you got any of that?"

Tachanka remained quiet, his helmet hiding his expression as his silence spoke for him.

"Wait, I know!" Thatcher exclaimed.

Turning towards Tachanka, Thatcher began to take off the rest of his space suit. In a matter of minutes, he was out and began to undo his pants, cackling all the while with the euphoria of his own perceived genius.

"Are you going to piss on the server?" Tachanka asked, still grasping his LMG.

"Of course not, it'd just collect in a ball and float about aimlessly," Thatcher's pants fell to his ankles, exposing his flaccid banger and gray pubes, "no, we need something with a little propulsion, something with a little spunk."

Thatcher turned around and parted his cheeks so Tachanka could make direct eye contact with his decrepit anus.

"Quick, use me!" Thatcher shouted, his knuckles turning white as he grasped his cheeks.

"Could you not just wank? Also, we don't have any lube here…"

Thatcher scoffed, "lube's for tossers! They don't call me the back-alley blackhole for nothing, step to it, lets get this two-car-train on the tracks!"

Tachanka took off his space suit as his cock gained mass. Eventually, his erection was exposed.

"Wait, we must make sure…" Tachanka reached into his pocket and withdrew a familiar piece of equipment along with some scotch tape.

Thatcher turned around, "a fookin' laser sight?"

Tachanka didn't break focus as he wrapped both his girth and the sight in layer upon layer of tape, "we can't miss!"

Thatcher bit his lip, "fine, if it's for the sake of humanity, I can permit such-"

Thatcher stopped mid-sentence as Tachanka's testicle-torpedo delved into his ass. His arms gave out immediately as he fell forward, almost instinctively, onto his hands and knees. Tachanka didn't pause, the shift was barely noticeable in the absence of gravity. Thatcher began to let out guttural moans as Tachanka dug deeper into his ancient catacombs.

With each passing minute, Thatcher grew more worried. Glancing out the porthole, he watched anxiously for the first nuclear blasts. Suddenly he was pulled back, Tachanka's inertia drawing him along as he withdrew his massive member.

A red dot flitted around the room as Tachanka steadied his aim, "блат!"

This shout of ecstasy was followed by a stream of semen rocketing across the room and onto the server. A moment passed before it began to smoke and the LED's went dark.

The two operators let out a sigh of relief before Thatcher turned back to Tachanka, "So, how do we get back down?"

Tachanka put his cock back into his pants and pulled up his zipper, "Montagne will catch us on his shield."

"That is," thatcher started, "if someone doesn't 'accidentally' shoot him in the back of the head… again."

The two let out a hearty laugh as they made for the airlock.