Logbook entry

Recollections, Entry 2

11 May 2016Astrachalasia
Damn this fucking place, damn this fucking ship, damn this Rift, damn this galaxy. What hope do I have but

Last night I dreamt of a cloud. At least, I think it was a cloud. It was big- large enough to cover entire systems. I dreamt that it expanded and rose and became powerful and rolled over 27 Kappa Persei, curved up a galactic arm, and rolled past Sagittarius A. It frightened the people of 27 KP. It frightened me, too. It was powerful; it was a complex, multi layer enigma of power.

Radio chatter is silent. Occasionally a Justicar message makes its way through the Galaxy, through the nebulas and arms and systems and stars and worlds and rings until the signal finally crawls its way into my comms. I hear talk of [REDACTED]. I think that's four or five now.

Aside from this lonely log, there is one thing that keeps my mind occupied. For the past month, I have heard a distant, distant noise. I cannot identify it, nor could I do anything with it if I could. It hails from a strong signal source somewhere between my bow and starboard side, maybe half a light year away from when I first detected it. Occasionally, it scans my ship. I don't know why. Perhaps some other unlucky pilot has found himself in my situation. Perhaps he, too, keeps a log, and perhaps he hears me from a distance, and perhaps he too dreams of hell clouds.

I wonder what keeps him up at night.
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