Those of us that had been up all night were in no mood for caffeine and confectionaries, we wanted strong drink.
We were, after all, the absolute cream
of the Distant Worlds Expedition.
Water and food were in abundant supply, but Logistics was being stingy with anything that approached 100-proof. This was where we found ourselves when the fourth Waypoint was revealed: in a temporary canteen set up in the abandoned Conflux Delta Site.
We had arrived at the basecamp 24 hours prior and immediately took up with a certain CMDR Jeff
. He was entertaining on his Beluga and called himself the ‘God of Biscuits
We matched his hospitality with some Harma Silver Sea Rum. It’s incredible what goes on behind those tinted black windows…
We determined to take a little trip to some nearby water spouts to kill the time and attempt to launch an SRV into orbit and, if possible, continue the journey across the galaxy.
It wasn’t meant to be.
Perhaps our attempts were hindered by copious amounts of Rum. Perhaps it was the stimulants that we took to keep us going. Most likely, it was the combination of the two which would explain the implacable laughter after each failed attempt.
Before we knew it the galaxy was spinning on its head around us, it was an absolute miracle that we made it back to basecamp in one piece. Mostly because neither my co-pilot or myself had any recollection of the return flight.
I had no choice but to open my eyes. I had to check to see if my frontal lobe really was attempting to burrow out of the front of my skull. After several minutes of abject confusion, I pieced together that we had, in fact, made it back to basecamp.
CMDR Jeff’s Beluga was nowhere to be seen. Whether he had already departed or was stuck orbiting some rocky world lightyears away in an SRV was a mystery I was in no hurry to solve.
It took several minutes to wake Gonzo from his stupor, fortunately, my efforts were aided by the constant roar of Anaconda’s breaking camp and blasting off for the next waypoint.
We decided to get underway as soon as possible, however, we needed to restock some luxury goods such as food and water. Thus, I found myself battling an unrepresentative hangover and an unsympathetic logistics clerk.
Unsympathetic and completely indifferent, just like the galaxy we were traversing. There was a lesson there somewhere, but at that moment I was far too hungover to appreciate it.