Logbook entry

John Grant / 19 Feb 3305
Rebel Scum, Empire Strikes Back (at the Thargoids), and Return of the Giant Survey, LLC chronicles

Author's Note: I intend on having fun with this 'logbook' so enjoy the fruits of a bored yet active imagination.

Commanders log (3305-1-24) - We've made it! The void... it called and I answered. There's surprisingly little out here. To most explorers this sector, and others like it, might be considered the edge of the map. Well, here be dragons.
Wait, I can't feel my legs! They won't move, I can't get up. Help!

The Void... It's really dark out here."

"Really, really dark out here!"


"The Perfect Storm"

Commander's log (3305-1-25) - So apparently there was this coup attempt in the Empire that went no where, most likely because - you know - we want to fight Aliens not each other. Stupid short sighted narcissistic... no seriously I can't feel my legs anymore, how long have I been sitting here?

Commander's log (3305-2-1 - Chelomey Orbital) - Gravity!!! It feels so wonderful! I can stand again. I'm going to spend some time on land for a while. Fuck space.

Commander's log (3305-2-1; approx 3 hours later) - So my next voyage will likely be back towards the center.... no I lied, I want to see the Crab Nebula. No passengers this time though, I hate passengers.


Mehhh!!!! Fortuna won't let me leave! Something about incursions and mankind needing to stick together to combat the Thargoids. I don't wanna fight anyone, flower flying crab people included! I'm formerly a rear-Admiral in the Federation, I've done my fighting, I've ferried my soldiers, I've done my fair share dammit!

"Went looking back through my old war pictures. Enjoy!"

Killing time, stationed on Earth
"Murica... Fuck Yeah!"

Waiting to deploy, time to take a Selfie
"We're going to need a bigger boat! Shut the fuck up Carl!"

Killing Separatists
"You have disappointed me for the last time"

Still Killing Separatists
"Rebel Scum"

"Yeah... war, it never changes."

Commander's log (a week later!) - I did as her majesty Princess Fortuna ordered and ferried people out of burning stations, even spent money on two new ships: The Atlas (this beautiful type 9 heavy), and Orpheo's Hope (Beluga Liner I designed for maximum people haulage). But was that enough? Ohhh no, she want's Hepburn and I to come up with a ship design to go into combat with. Matter of fact why is her consent necessary for me to launch MY ships? (Later) So I'm going to build a really, really powerful Corvette. Fred and I think it will cost us something like another two or three hundred million, a crap ton of raw mats, and perhaps a season or two of ass kissing. Luckily we'll likely also need exploration data at some point so once we get the first two, I'll get what I want - a voyage by myself.

Final Commander's log (3305-2-18) - So far we've stripped and sold my old combat Anaconda, the Star Destroyer, and used the money from the sell to buy a Corvette at Lembava. My working name for it is Star Destroyer II, but Fortuna is worried we'll get sued if we don't come up with something else. Bertuccio took my Krait Phantom, the Hayabusa Maru (It means Falcon Circle/Millenium in Japanese I think?), and is currently mining somewhere near Alderan. Meanwhile I'm running cargo to the Witch Head Science Centre with Fred as my co-pilot and Princess Fortuna as my irritating passenger. Now don't get me wrong, in small doses I can tolerate Fortuna. She's kept the company going, she's basically my adopted little sister who I've known for years... but please kill me. Between her constant nagging, and Fred's loud chewing (I've taken to calling him Chewey by the way, that's how frikkin loud it is) ... grr, I don't know I'm just at my wits end.

Supplemental: It's actually Aldebaran, not Alderaan... Aldebaran.
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