My psychiatrist says I should start keeping a journal. Great start, Dareon, scare off anyone else who's reading your logbooks. It's nothing bad, I just caught a bit of space madness on Distant Worlds 2. Getting back to the bubble helped a lot, being able to identify the voices as coming over my radio beats the alternative. But I got my head checked out, and the shrink says if I leave human space again I should track my experiences. So here we are. Outside human space. If that wasn't obvious.
So when I got back to the bubble from Sag A, flush with exploration cash and a shiny new Elite decal worn to shreds on my DW2 explorer Caritas, my immediate first stop was Jameson Memorial. After a shower and putting in a maintenance order for a literal ton of air freshener, I started browsing new ships. The result there was Patientia, my Type-10 miner. And boy is that name apropos. I love her, but she steers like a cow and needs to make reservations three hours in advance to come to a stop.
After a week or so of mining and hauling, I started getting the itch to go out in the black again. Not far, I don't think I'll even be ready for a trip to Colonia anytime soon, but part of my space madness was due to the abysmal jump range on Caritas. It wasn't bad, up in the high 30-lightyear range, and people are still making the trip as I write this with lower ranges, but it was just annoying to feel like I was making such slow progress. The whole reason I took Caritas was to act as a tour guide, and the array of toys I was carrying broke up the monotony, but weighed me down. I had a dedicated explorer, but once I was back, going from the relative spaciousness of the Keelback into the cramped confines of my Hauler Humilitas triggered my space madness something awful, so I needed a new explorer. Cue Humilitas II, the Diamondback Explorer. I love this little ship.
Anyway, I'd gotten her engineered fairly well when Zende Partners announced their ferry service. Her loadout's got room for a Guardian FSD booster, so that's what I'm out here working on. The Guardian ruins are fascinating. Millions of years old, mostly still functional until some jumped-up apes come along and start blowing pieces off.
I know there's been a lot of science and speculation about the Guardians. I see occasional feeds across my Galnet eclecto-filter. It's a codex app that samples the most popular discussion topics in each system. It gives me occasional surprises like picking up a pirate comms buoy and dumping a week's worth of shipping attack plans in my lap. Mostly it's just sports scores, though. But I digress. Guardian archeology threads come up every so often, and I think that could have been me if I hadn't lived close to the spaceport and got to watch ships come in all the time.
So this has probably been covered more often and better than I can, but I feel like speculating on the physical structure of the Guardians. They feel roughly on the same scale as a human, maybe a little larger. The triangular nature of their technology seems to imply trilateral symmetry, compared to how much of ours is made to accommodate bilateral. They probably didn't see in quite the same spectrum we do, but that's entirely speculation based on the emissions around here.
...And there's a codex entry, of course there is. I got the size right, at least. Language is based on physical gesture systems, each symbol being a word or concept. So translation will be difficult for anything but the most basic concepts clearly labeled. "Exit." "Drinking fountain." "Self destruct, do not press." I sure hope we've got a translation for that one.
The arrangement of the data obelisks puts me in mind of a server room, I wonder what kind of data we're actually using to make these modules. Actual military blueprints? Their version of sci-fi? Guardian porn?
...I disturbed myself, I think I should get back to work now.