I hate Med Techs. With their fake sympathy and hollow words, it makes me sick (haha) hearing them tell me it’s not treatable… yet.

The latest news is that although it’s not terminal, my cognitive abilities will continue to diminish as the Ipamuni 4 virus spreads throughout my brain. I have already begun feeling the fog in my near memory. What did I eat for breakfast this morning? Did I even eat anything at all?

Time. It’s a force that overcomes us all eventually, but most have the advantage of not seeing it sneak up and take them. Lucky bastards. Lucky me I get to gaze at it with no recognition as it slaps me over and over. Soon I won’t even realize that the virus is erasing my memory of each slap. My mysterious friend Ipamuni 4 leaving me with an odd feeling of pain that seems to be source less.

Time. It takes a lot of it to travel the vast distances between stars to get to a usually sterile white room and wait for the Med Techs to do their poking and prodding. The endless tests, the labs, the consultations with “experts” that seem only to be experts at extracting fees. All to tell me what I already know (for now at least) that no its not fatal, no its not contagious, no known cure, but we can develop one, for a fee.

Time. With the clock ticking I better get cracking on earning some real money to find a way to evict my little friend from my skull. This last treatment seemed to be making some headway at slowing down the progression of memory loss. I at least remember where I put my list of things not to forget. Installing the AI CoPilot seems to have kept me from crashing into a station pad for lack of deploying landing gear. I should feel grateful for its ability to allow me to keep my flight certification, but I not so subtly hate it for precisely that reason.

I’ve tried my hand at currier gigs, but they pay crap unless you know someone. Ferry services are barely worth the upkeep from wear, tear, and piracy. Mining has been fruitful for quite a little bit if I steer away from the most lucrative trade lines where the pirates love to prey on fat slow rigs with no defenses.

My most recent risky move was to buy a Beluga liner. Very posh, very stylish, very expensive craft to cruise the star lanes with uptight entitled rich brats that want to see the galaxy as if it were a video game and they could just win it with a few micro transactions. I think I could make it profitable if I had enough…

Time. So, I met up with a few people, at least one of which has a story as sad as mine. It’s true that misery loves company. What I’m really interested in is the Fleet Carrier. Some colossal money can be made with one of these gems but alas the cost of purchase is also colossal. Once I can rid myself of my little friend, I will learn how to get my hands on and run a carrier of my own. In the meantime, I’ll build up my financial reserves out in the black running the scanners and SRV to get cartographic data and collecting exo samples for Vista Genomics. They pay the best and some of the techs there have been useful in suggesting research facilities that specialize in antivirals.

before I get too melancholy, I want to remind myself to stay focused, earn it all, and track each antiviral lead I can beg borrow or steal along the way.

P.S. I hope I remember to read this and write another log so I can remember to read that log and so on.