Ex A Log, entry 00: Carbon Star
13 Aug 2016Lothal Vanderheim
It has been a while. I decided recently to start making log entries again. It helps me stay sane, you know? Months ago, I was launching my great voyage to the other side of the galaxy. I had my trusty exploration-fit Anaconda, I was ready. But after less then a week of travel, I started to feel bad. Really bad.
When I reached the core of the Spiral Nebula, my first way point, I turned my ship towards the core. Ignoring my headaches and other ailments, I forced myself through the routine of preparing to jump, when I noticed something in my control panel: According to my ship's database I've already visited this system before. I had unwittingly put down an already explored system for my first way point!
Normally I would have laughed, but I wasn't sane anymore. I had a complete break down. Trashing and screaming, I did my best to destroy my controls until the computer panicked and send a sedative through my space suit. For two full days, I would wake up, go mad again, and get sedated again. When I regained control of my mental faculties, I felt like shit. Quite literally.
After cleaning up, the headaches came back and I feared the madness was returning. As fast as I could I rushed back into civilization. I've never felt so relieved as on the days when I saw the lights of Skvortsov Orbital, our home station. My shivering self basically fell into the arms of my fellow Diamond Frogs when I finally lurched out of my ship.
Then, black out. A week later I woke up in a hospital bed on board Skvortsov Orbital. The doctors later told me I had suffered from some sort of chemical imbalance in my brain, making me literally mad.
It turned out the guy who owned my Anaconda before me had done some DIY-maintenance to save money and re-wired the life support systems wrong somehow. Some filters had turned bad and the sensors normally observing them had malfunctioned. I could have payed for a complete repair of the faulty system, but after suffering through this little adventure the thought of flying around in that piece of scrap metal again left a bad aftertaste in my mouth.
Instead, I put the ship up for sale, with the additional note Warning: Life Support Systems Severly Damaged -Not Safe For Use- and a price 10% lower than the standard asking price. Taking the loss wasn't nice, but hey, it's not like I'm poor. I've traded and explored enough to keep me wealthy.
After that horrid experience, I went back to my rusty, but trusty Asp and just flew around for a while, sometimes helping out with whatever problems the locals had.
Then I went to this place:
A random carbon star not far away from the bubble. Just a short jaunt to prove myself I still got it. And it worked: Visiting this carbon star and his dark majesty made me remember why I started with this profession years ago. The sense of wonder had me again. I rushed back home and made great plans again.
But no shitty rust buckets from the black market anymore, this time it's time for a real ship!