Logbook entry

Y'Endreen / 11 Feb 3305

It seems rather fitting that my ramblings about the futility of life and my cynical view on humanity as a species would come back to bite me in the arse just as I start to actually question mortality.
I've had close calls before, near misses, moments where, in hindsight, I was lucky to survive. But that all pales in comparison to my attempted journey to Khun.
I've overcharged my frameshift drive in the jet streams of white dwarves often, maybe too often...that might have been the problem: complacency. This time, however, I didn't even see the bounce line as I lined up my rust-bucket Anaconda with the Jetstream until it was too late. It was literally within a second of my ship being buffeted by the star that my ship was knocked out of supercruise and out of control. Another few seconds and every system was overloading. The bridge was filled with a cacophony of warning beeps and sirens. and despite the heatsink absorbing the excess heat, a few small fires still managed to tear through a few consoles.
As I tried to get just a little bit of control of the ship, I noticed the windows had begun to crack. By the time the FSD was cooled enough to be activated, the ship was pointing directly at the star and no matter how hard I fought the waves of energy that were tearing at the sluggish Anaconda, the thrusters did not have the power to change course. The cracks in the window had snaked almost all the way across and I knew that the canopy would not last long.
Almost every module was overloaded and shutting down by this point, and somewhat typically, just as my ship was knocked round to a reasonable escape vector, the FSD went offline. As did the thrusters. Then the canopy blew out and almost everything that wasn't securely attached was sucked out into oblivion. The suit had around seven minutes of air, but I honestly thought that the ship would not even last that long: there were multiple hull breaches and my thrusters and FSD would start up only to cut out again after several seconds. The thrusters could not line up to an angle of escape and the FSD couldn't stay online long enough to even charge up halfway.
My oxygen was running low by this point so I synthesised another supply before trying again to repair and reboot In the hope of getting some manoeuvrability back, but even that was failing to complete, my thrusters went offline again, leaving me completely at the mercy of physics and chance. Power usage of the systems had increased to around 150% with everything already shut down but at least the continually dropping hull integrity had slowed down and the energy waves seemed to be pushing the ship away from the sun. Maybe I could keep synthesising my oxygen supply until somebody could rescue me?

I think, in total, I spent 23 or 24 minutes in the deadly Jetstream cone of that white dwarf before the hull integrity dropped to 0% and I was forced to bail out in an escape pod. That's the last thing I remember. Next thing I know I'm aboard a station's medical wing, with a concussion and a few bruises. Somebody out there apparently found my escape pod and had the compassion to save a life. Restores my faith in humanity a little. and it makes you appreciate what you have.
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CMDR's logbook

11 Feb 3305
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