When you hear those words, "That was close!", a few light years from home, you're just glad there are good commanders close by to pick up your escape pod and get you to a near-by facility. When you hear those words and you are 20,000 light years from home, you get a little nervous.
There is, however, another kind of close call that I have had to deal with a while back. Hence, the reason I have not submitted any logs since the middle of 3304.
"Roober, you've regained your memory and had to search out some big, meaningful thing," you may ask?
Nope, the memories are still as elusive as ever but, to be honest, I was so busy moving on with my new life that they just became less and less important - until September.
I had just returned from a solo expedition out in the rift. It was quiet and uneventful - the way I usually like them. I mean, what's not to like about getting paid tens of millions of credits to ride around and scan stuff right? Especially when it keeps you on the down low. The client doesn't say a lot, and I don't ask a lot. they just wanted data on certain routes plotted to Base Camp and back and I was all too happy to oblige. Little did I know that I was being watched all along.
Too be continued...
Roober the Stroober | Commanding Officer | 03-ASX "Pilgrim 5"