Timeskip
13 Feb 2023Fatcat__25
BEEP... SHIP POWER LEVELS LOW... BEEP... SHIP POWER LEV...
Alexander Warrens rolled upright, groggily, and shook his head.
"What in reason...? this ship has no reason to be short power after a night on the surface..."
He pulled out his tablet, and poked at it, checking his ship's internal systems one by one. After going through the list twice, and seeing absolutely nothing wrong, was about to shut it off, and go about his normal "morning" routine, when something caught his eye. The date: February 11, 3309.
Alexander was speechless for a moment, rebooted his tablet, to make sure there wasn't a bug, and then leaned his head on his hand. "How?" was all the response he could muster. How was it 3309? He had just gone to sleep, after spending a day examining strange geological formations, like he would any day. Nonetheless, he couldn't argue. A year had passed, to the day, and he had slept, or something, for the whole time. How that was possible was another question he couldn't answer, however much he wanted to. For now, none of that mattered. He had to get a ship low on fuel to a star, to replenish its tanks, so he could get home.
"Home"! That was a thought. What had gone on in the bubble in the past year? Not that Alexander really had a home, but he had some places he was fond of, back in the bubble, and some contacts. He was sure everyone he knew had decided that he had left for Colonia, at this point, but at least he wasn't declared dead. Commanders going missing in the black for absurd periods of time was a pretty common occurrence, for which he was glad. That would save on legal fees, if nothing else. He could go home, tell the shipyard that he was Alexander Warrens, let them scan his ID, and he could be right back in his trusty combat ship, messing up pirates and other scum.
With a wry smile, he got up, and stumbled into the cockpit. It would really have been nice if he had at least woken up during the day, with all the lights off, to preserve power. Oh well, tough luck, he thought, as he felt his way to the chair, and settled into it.
A short flight later, and the Far Ranger was safely fuel-scooping off of the system's red dwarf, and Alexander was reading a year's worth of news. Or, rather, an endless stream of foolishness, madness, Thargoids, and an occasional lull of minor chaos. The galaxy sure hadn't changed, it would seem, although the Thargoids had gotten a bit more feisty as of late, apparently. There was a full-blown invasion going on in a system just a few light years from the one he had been calling home, which was awkward. That would make work difficult, especially given how many other commanders were swarming the region to protect several key systems. Perhaps the time had come to move shop.
As usual, Alexander shrugged, and, pulling up the galactic map, picked a random system in the direction of the bubble, and plotted a course. 63 jumps. Not bad. It was good to be awake again.