28 January 3307 – 1000

What a time for my ship to choose to do a system reset! I was three planets shy of having this whole system scanned! Technology can be so frustrating sometimes!

I guess it does give me more time to reflect…

…If I can concentrate that is. Every now and again the lights flicker off and on as the main computer core decides to shut off various systems and turn them back on as it updates the firmware that is sent out weekly across the void from Lakon Spaceways. I have inquired at the customer support network as to the possibility of shutting this feature off or rescheduling it to a time that I am not actually actively piloting my ship, but the pretentious, preppy-voiced young woman at the other end told me that the optional package to do so would cost well more than 5 fleet carriers and had to be selected as an option prior to the ORIGINAL purchase of any individual ship. She continued, in her most infuriating and condescending tone, to tell me that the option required specific module that was non-standard and needed intricate tie-in modules to all ship systems that required such intricate integration it prevented any post manufactured ships from being upgraded with this feature.

I’m not a ship builder, but it sounds like a load of biowaste to me. Such a useful feature would surely come with a premium price, but the engineers cannot have built these ships in such a fashion to preclude such later modifications. Unless Lakon just does not make such a feature and they lie to those who request it in such a way as to make the customer change their minds on choosing such features.

Oh, well, at least I have a beautiful view of this amazing waterworld that I managed to scan before my onboard AI shut down my control of the ship. I am just imagining the beautiful vistas and scenery that I would be able to see if I were down there exploring the planet on foot. The detailed scan I did of it says that it be a bit cold and that I would have to stay in an environmental suit (for now) but that there should be some amazing flora and fauna combined with some amazing terrain features down there.

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One thing I am glad that I was able to do during my downtime was workout some entertainment for these types of times. Using the skills I learned about scanners from Felicity Farseer, I found some old signals from Sol that were transmitted during the late 20th century. I also managed to build something that resembled an old FM radio with signal booster to pickup and amplify those signals so that I can listen to some of the music that humans used to enjoy during those times. Right now, I am listening to something called Enigma, a apt name for some of the mysteries I find out here, a group that rivals some of the most intricate musicians of our day. At least they do in my mind anyways.

I have also come to a decision: I am going to give my shipboard AI a name. I am going to name her Mother. The idea came to me after watching a psychological thriller from a two-dimensional broadcast from the same era as this music is from that I also found hidden in the noise of the galaxy.

She is not pleased with the prospect. Nor is she pleased with the addition of the additional equipment in the cockpit. She complains that it is not tied into her systems and presents a security risk to the navigational controls and an additional ejection hazard that could expose me to injury if the ship were destroyed.

She and I had quite the heated discussion over it. I told her that if she were so worried about additional debris that could injure me that she should upgrade her self-preservation subroutines to give me a better advantage so that SHE wasn’t destroyed. The discussion ended in a stalemate, or so I thought. The next morning, I found that she had performed a technical miracle and disabled the HUD’s exclusion zone boundary display in an act of malicious compliance. It took me three days to figure out how to turn them back on.

Mother can obviously be vindictive when she wants.

A thought just occurred to me as I was thinking of that self-preservation piece: I have been through all the material on the Conflux sites that are in my data banks and am convinced I need to explore it more. I know that the mystery is more than four years old, but something just doesn’t seem right about it.

If this was truly a relocation site for humanity, why is it so small? I am not sure I have all of the information I need to actually make that judgement about the location, but those four bases do not seem large enough to relocate a huge portion of humanity. Even if one expected 50-60% loss of life before ships started reaching those three locations (The Formidine Rift, Hawking’s Gap, and the Conflux), the size of those locations does not provide enough room for humanity to be there without overpopulating the worlds in the area.

The information that is provided me in the data mentions that there were supposed to be beacons seeded around ELWs that would point humanity to safe settling zones. The locations of these worlds seem to be missing as well. Have the ELWs just not been discovered yet? Nothing about beacons appears in the data except that there were beacons found in the region pointing people to these four planetside locations. Again, my afore mentioned assertion stands: This is not enough room for humanity to relocate to, let alone thrive.

Nor do I believe that this location affords settlers to this location the protection that “the Club” was looking for to give humanity a large enough buffer so that they have the time needed to develop the necessary technology needed to protect itself from further Thargoid incursions.

One last observation that I have hit upon: The logs that were found at these sites four years ago talk about some interesting observations. The fourth log found at the Conflux Gamma site mentions that they were setting beacons out in the void. From what I can piece together, the best an Anaconda pilot could hope for back in the 3270’s was about 30 light years (about half of what I can manage in my ASP). If the pilot was describing a location as a void, was he meaning that there was a lack of jumpable stars? I do not think that it would matter whether they were scoopable, as the Formidine Rift location appears to have a huge number of stars that are not scoopable to form a buffer zone of travel as an added measure of safety for the settlers.

Also, as part of this observation, the logs recovered from the Delta site indicate that the ship was experiencing troubles from the effects of a neutron star in the area. I have not done the most detailed of investigations of the region yet, however I do not see on my star maps any neutron stars in the immediate vicinity of these locations. Were the logs transmitted back to the base that the crew had just established or were they from somewhere else and just captured in the computer data cores on the Delta site after they were transmitted? If so, why was the ship position not captured with the data logs?

These observations leave me with a lot of questions. Papa always said that I was more curious than a cat, but this really has me intrigued. My best guess is that these sites in the Conflux were not set there as a relocation site but rather as a waypoint to gather astrological data for navigation and additional supplies for continuing their trip into the void. Travel is much faster now and supplies less critical to long range expeditions, but from the holos I have seen, that is almost what the location appears to be in my mind.

Perhaps I will explore these regions when I get back. It can’t get me into anymore trouble that I was (am?) in for accidentally stumbling on to the crash site of a Cobra Mark III that was registered to one Commander John Jameson in the HIP 12099 system on a planet that isn’t “officially” marked off limits. All I know is that despite not being officially off limits, the ships that kept popping up on my scanners for the first two weeks after that landing were all remarkably similar. None transmitting IFF codes and all black.

I am just getting paranoid for no reason. I am out here alone and my mind is playing tricks on me…

26 January, 3307 – 2000

Weirder and weirder.  I can’t understand some things sometimes.  When I woke up, all the cargo that I had found was gone.  Saying gone implies that someone took it, but that would imply that there was evidence left that someone took it.  No, the cargo had vanished.  It was almost as if the cargo had vanished.

There must be a reasonable explanation for how the cargo disappeared without a trace.  Though the snow was blowing around heavily when I went to sleep last night, I could still find traces of my own movements out near both sites.  It was almost as if someone figured out how to collect cargo from the surface with limpets.  That or they figured out how to pilot the limpets themselves.

Listen to me!  I am starting to sound like one of those tin-hat crackpots that think everything is a conspiracy theory!  I need to stop listening to that data in my ship’s memory core.  Even my dreams are conspiring against me in this regard.

Well, true to form in the conspiracy theory vein, I checked my ship out with a micrometer to make sure that someone didn’t use that ordinance to set a trap for me.  There seems to have been nothing to find anywhere on my ship.  Surprises may have been left out at the burnt out SRV, which does still seem to be there according to my scanners, but I was too afraid to get into my SRV and go out there to check it out again.

The whole thing just left me creeped out, so I did what I always do when I get spooked:  I ran.  It is just like what I did when I started this adventure into the deep after seeing that Imperial Courier pick up the two ejection pods from the two pirate ships I had just finished off in the HIP 22550 system while helping out the Marlinists get established in that region.  I was sure that I saw NMLA markings on its dark hull.  Despite the new paint job, I know I recognize that ship and that is what freaked me out.

Why would I, an Imperial, work to help the Marlinists?  I have been asking myself that same question.  In retrospect, I must believe that the reasonings go back to what happened prior to the death of Prince Harold Duval.

Growing up, Tia and I both idolized Princess Aisling Duval.  We were both just a bit younger than Princess Duval and so it was quite easy to get caught up in the media sensation of her life.  That was especially true growing up in the Cubeo system, the headquarters of the Prismatic Imperium.  Both Tia and I wanted to make our own contributions to the young Princesses’ legacy, in our own separate ways of course. I was an addlebrained, teenager who got enraptured with the beauty of the activities of the royal court.  Everything around Princess Duval was stunningly beautiful, manicured, and pristine.  My mind focused on those things (and boys too, of course) and so I naturally drifted to art as an outlet for my energies.  My aspirations eventually settled on creating artwork that would be of the quality that Princess Duval would take notice of.  I almost hyperventilated thinking of the possibility that something I created might one day be recognized as worthy of being in Her Royal Majesties’ presence.

Tia was the more levelheaded of the two of us.  When old enough, she asked Papa to use his connections to help her get established in working in the outer systems of Princess Duval’s influence to try to help make a difference with her initiatives.  Tia worked hard to help improve the conditions for those of the lower castes.  

Being out there had some significant risks for her and her ideals though.  Her letters to me became increasingly despondent in July of 3305.  That was about the time that Unchain purchased 4000 slaves who were set to be freed by an Imperial system.  

Tia could not understand why Princess Duval was involved in owning slaves when her stance was to help create a system within the Empire where no one was a slave.  I wasn’t too knowledgeable on the subject as I was hip deep in an apprenticeship that was supposed to grant me a guaranteed spot in one of the most prestigious art schools in the Cubeo system, and perhaps an internship working for the artistic restoration department in the Imperial Art History center on Chelomy Orbital.

By August, she had stopped speaking to me.  I didn’t see her again until 24 September 3306.  That was the first day of the funeral observances for Prince Harold Duval.

All of us were there at the Capitol for the funeral.  Papa had made sure that both Tia and I were coming to fulfill our roles as members of his household.  He was required to be there, and he felt that our absence would be viewed as a slight upon our patroness, Princess Aisling.  

Papa and Mama looked regal as ever, him wearing his best dress uniform with all his medals displayed on his chest and Mama in an equally stunning gown.  I wore something a bit more reserved and characteristic of my own station within my service to the Princess:  A dress specifically modeled after the design of my uniform carrying all its distinctiveness and markings but tailored to better suit the elegance of the female form, to include the 10-centimeter black band around my right arm to show my solidarity with the mourning that my patroness was in over the loss of her father.

The three of us gasped when we saw Tia.  She was wearing a dress that closely resembled the uniform she should have been wearing as lower-level civilian in the Imperial Diplomatic Assistance Corps, except it was all black.  Every bit was there, exhaustively replicated in shiny onyx black detail, layered out instead of the usual bright colors that should have adorned the uniform.   The matte black 10-centimeter band around her right arm stood in stark contrast to the glossy finish and exquisite detail of what she was wearing.

Later that night, I heard Papa and Tia arguing in the study of the family suite that had been reserved for us.  Papa had been chastising Tia about her obvious slight against the Princess and how poor in taste her political statement had been at the funeral of Prince Harold.  Tia did not relent and stood her ground defending her actions.  The last clear statements I remember from the conversation were chilling.

“I don’t care if I have slighted the Princess.  She should have thought about the repercussions of her actions well before this if she cared about her people.  She is a hypocrite to everything she claims to stand for.”

“Tia, you obviously don’t understand politics and all the nature of things that must be done to achieve one’s personal goals.  I think I will talk to your superiors and have you reassigned to my office.  Maybe then I can help you see and understand how circuitous of a route politics is in achieving one’s personal goals on such a grand scale as the Empire is.”

“Don’t bother, Papa.  I am already working with people who are dedicated to achieving true freedom for those in the Empire.  The only leader the empire has had that seems to understand the vision we should all be reaching for was Marlin Duval.”

“You are working with the Marlinists?” I heard Papa shout before the door to the study slammed shut.

I do not know how the rest of the conversation went, but their voices were loud and heated, though muffled through the thick Mahogany door of the study.  They argued late into the night, and though I tried to stay up to find out what was going on, I fell victim to the exhaustion of the previous morning’s travel and the activities of the day.  In the morning, Tia was not there, and Papa refused to speak about the incident.

I guess that is why I was helping the Marlinists, some part of me reaching out to my sister and hoping my actions were helping here establish a better future for herself.  That Imperial Courier that I saw there, much like that burnt out SRV in a system that was supposedly undiscovered, just set off warning klaxons in my head.  I needed to get out and away.  I set off quickly, not knowing where I was going, just away.  

Now, I find myself in the Fallows with another mystery on my hands.  This one could prove just as dangerous as trying to unravel what happened to Tia.  I just hope I live to tell my grandchildren about it.

I am going to press on a bit more tonight.  I think putting a few more lightyears between me and that SRV will do my nerves good.  I just hope I can find a planet with a decent gravity to sleep on when I finally get tired.  Last night’s rest at 1.66 G was very soothing until the events of this morning…

25 January 3307 – 2200

I am letting myself get lax at this. I fell asleep before writing my log last night and neglected to write one this morning. I am forcing myself to do it now because so much exciting has happened.

First off, I am no longer in the Inner Orion Spur region. Officially, I am in the Temple region. It is exciting to say the least. I thought my first sight was going to be my last as my FSD dropped me right between the exclusion zone of these two beauties. I wanted to snap a picture right when I dropped into the region as it was my first experience in a new region of space but that didn’t happen.

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/131594/

Instead, I had to be especially quick on the controls as the two stars are 10 LS apart and their exclusion zones almost touch. My computer was screaming at me “Warning: Temperature Critical” incessantly. I screamed back at it, “Yea, I know.” The speed that they were rotating around themselves made getting out of there hard. My engines were screaming as I was wrenching on the controls trying to navigate out of the maelstrom of solar flares passing between the two stars.

Hindsight: I probably should have just bottomed out the controls and went straight down between them, but in the split second I had to make that call, I just reacted by instinct. Afterwards, I took a rear-view shot of the stars and then went to my stateroom to clean out the inside of my flight suit and take a shower to clean up the mess I had made of myself.

After that, my Codex started going batty as it started recording everything I astronomical body came in contact with. It took me a couple of jumps to realize that it was because I had entered a new region and had not recorded any astronomical data here before. My nerves have been on edge since seeing that ship and the incident with the two Class A stars had not helped my nerves.

I haven’t really thought much about Tia and my family the past two days. I probably will dream of them again tonight as I am mentioning them now. I am still trying to pick apart what happened the past six months. Maybe I will spend the next couple of journal entries trying to sort it out, especially with the other things that are on my mind.

The first of these is that space in my computer’s memory I cannot erase. I admit, my curiosity got ahold of me and I started listening to the information that is stored there while I was flying. It wreaks of a conspiracy theory, yet with all of the information there I cannot deny that there has to be some truth in the information.

Most of the information was open-source reporting. Much of the information was from the recordings of CMDR Drew Wagar and CMDR Mattius101. It seems both commanders had done some investigative reporting on something called “the Club” and some secret project that had been initiated about 14 years before I was born. In particular, the information in my data banks was about a few sites found in the Conflux region.

I have to bear my heart here: With the information that is stored here (I verified that it is real though a simple crosscheck scan of the galactic news archives), I cannot deny that something fishy was going on. It also seems that in the midst of revealing this information a young pilot, one CMDR Salome’, was killed trying to reveal the existence of these locations to the Galactic networks.

My computer does seem to have a little more information than was not in the archives though. Some speculative research that was hidden deep down in some personal files. I still do not know who was doing the research but given what I have heard from the news archives about those who go poking around in this too much, I understand now why this old ASP was so in expensive.

I think I am going to do some poking around into this mystery myself. I am going to be smart about it though. I have had my computer fabricate some old Sol products called paper and a pencil. They seem small enough to be able to hide in my cabin so they should be overlooked if ever my ship gets investigated back in the Bubble.

The second thing out of the ordinary that happened was quite scarry. I mentioned in my last journal entry that I saw a ship warp into one of the systems I was just leaving. I know I was far enough away from the initial drop point that they could not have gotten to my wake to scan my destination, but I still made several jumps thereafter and did a double back to make sure they weren’t following me.

Well, today, while exploring the planet I am on tonight, I found the smoking wreck of an SRV just sitting out in the middle of nowhere. My computer told me that this system was undiscovered, yet there it was. To make matters worse, there was about 8 cannisters lying around it: 6 of explosives, 1 of bioweapons and 1 of nerve agents. What is that kind of destructive power doing this far out in the unknown?

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/131595/

https://inara.cz/gallery/0/131596/

I spent half an hour looking for additional signs of life. There was no ship in the area, no tracks to follow back to their source (not surprising as my ship has about a foot of snow on it that has blown off the ground onto it. There isn’t really an atmosphere, so all of what is falling is being carried by the solar winds blowing across the face of the planet and picking up the minute particles), nor any other indication that the original owner of the SRV was anywhere to be found. Since I don’t have a cargo bay (I wouldn’t really feel comfortable with all of that ordinance on my ship anyway) I set homing beacons in all of the cannisters in case someone came for them, and I moved the bioweapons and nerve agents quite a way off. I moved my ship to a more remote location but trained my external cameras on the site of the SRV and the two cannisters I moved. I also set my ship’s alarms to awaken me if someone showed up to mess with any of the wreckage.

Tinfoil theories are sounding rather real right now. Hopefully, it is just my imagination getting the better of me.

Personal note: Toa don’t forget to refuel the SRV when you take it out again. You were so creeped out about things, you rushed back and stowed it with only about 22% fuel left in the tank!

24 January, 3307 – 0825

I hurt this morning. After all the physical exercise two days ago and the fact that I did not take it easy yesterday I was ready for sleep last night. I was so tired that I didn’t even write last night’s log entry, promising myself that I would sit here and write it this morning before I ventured further off into the void.

That was perhaps a mistake. I really need to look at the gravity levels of the planets that I choose to spend my nights at. Sleeping in .07 G is not all that restful, especially when one tends to toss and turn as much as I seem to at night. I jarred myself awake several times as the low gravity levels allowed me to propel myself off my mattress into the air. I guess I understand now why the previous owner had the plexi walls installed around the bed. I would have found myself on the floor of my cabin if I had not closed the cocoon last night.

The planet above me reminds me of Cubeo. It is a deep, rich-blue Class II gas giant with blue rings to match its vibrant color. The scene reminds me of looking down on Cubeo from the exterior windows of the orbital station above the planet. It brings back a lot of memories from my childhood.

Just thinking of that time makes me feel like I am a hundred years old.

I don’t remember much of my youngest years. Remembering the stories that Mama told me, Papa was originally a member of the Pilot’s Federation and aided the Planetary Defense Force in the Cubeo system as a free-lance pirate hunter. After achieving the rating of Deadly, he was pressed into service with the Imperial Navy as a Midshipman in the Prismatic Imperium. Papa was one of the pilots who worked diligently to protect the Duval family. Mama said he was particularly good at his job.

I guess it was during this time that Mama and Papa met. She was a young lass, barely out of pigtails as she put it, when she met him at a ceremony honoring a large group of pilots freshly promoted to new ranks. She said that Papa looked particularly dashing wearing the shiny new shoulder boards of a freshly minted young Naval Lieutenant. He must have because they dated for some time after their first meeting and eventually got married shortly after Papa made the rank of Lieutenant Commander.

I have a holo of their wedding photo on the wall of my state room. He looks dashing dressed up in his Imperial Blacks, his medals shining in the midday sunlight. I am kind of partial here, but I think he looks almost as good as Mama in her white Montreal style wedding dress and cape. You can tell that the two held a special prominence beyond the special occasion of the day.

I wish I knew more about her past. She never talked herself or her family beyond the unending adoration and support she lavished on Papa and the two of us girls. As an Imperial Lady, she was not arrogant or boisterous in her behavior like other Imperial women. I loved that about her, that she was elegant and regal yet not beholden to the decorum of Imperial demands on how a lady should act in society. She kept to herself in public and was aloof, above all the political intrigues and machinations that swirled around her in society. She was self-aware and self-assured of her place and status in society.

They enjoyed a private life of travel and assignments as Papa served in his assignments with the Imperial Navy. In 3283, shortly after being promoted to Captain, Captain Lord Yuri Targus and Lady Miriam settled on Cubeo 3 when Papa accepted an assignment as an Imperial attaché to the Imperial Diplomatic Corps. The next year my twin sister and I were born.

Originally named Tianna and Annatoyla Targus, my sister and I quickly became known by our nicknames, Tia and Toa. We grew up happy and safe, knowing our parents and their love throughout our young lives, despite being different physically to our contemporaries. You see, we always stuck out because of our appearance.

Tia and I were both redheaded children, despite the blond hair that both of our parents had, with pale skin marred ever so light-colored freckles all over our faces. Our features were so extraordinary that it seemed as though spotlights focused on us as the center of attention when we walked into rooms. Unfortunately, that was never good because our overly pale skin and bright, fire-red hair seemed to mark us as impure in Imperial society. We were lesser creatures because of our deformities according to society.

Papa used to refer to us as his own “China Dolls” when we brought up our disapproval of our appearances. He often mentioned to us that he and Mama had talked at length about genetic engineering of their children and had opted against it. They believed that society was losing something special when it messed with the genes of their children.

We were happy once. That was so long ago yet it seems like only yesterday. I wish I could go back to that time. I wish I could go home at period, but the Kepler Orbital situation has destroyed any chance of that. In a real sense, Annatoyla Targus died that day and Toa Targus was born.

I didn’t think a human being could cry as much as I have over the past three months. It is amazing saying it like that, three months. Could so much have really happened in that time? It must be able to as I look up at stars that have not been seen this close ever before. I just wish the tears would stop sometime soon. Maybe they will, maybe they will.

Looking at the Chrono, I need to end this reverie for now. I have wasted the past couple of hours wallowing in self-pity and misery over what I can never have again. I also need to get moving forward if I am ever going to get back to the Bubble.

I chuckle at that last statement as my current pathway is in exactly the opposite direction of where I just said I am heading. I want to get a look at some of the sights out in the galaxy. What I have seen already shows me that whomever or whatever painted this void is a much better artist than I am. Or should I say, was in my previous life. I want to see the beauty of this void for a bit before I head back to the politics of Imperial society and try to pick up the pieces of my life back there.

Two last things of note that I want to mention in this log: first, I need to update the library in this old ASP when I get back to a station. It seems a significant amount of the computer’s long term memory core is write-protected with a significant number of files pertaining to something called the Dynasty Project and the Scutum-Sagittarii Conflux. It seems that the previous owner was investigating a group called “the Club” and their workings in this area of space. I might have a look at it, but to me it sounds like one big conspiracy theory, complete with what those of old Sol would call “tin hat” suppositions.

At least the previous owner had good taste in music as the library is also full of wonderful artist such as Bach, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, and Mozart. Such relaxing music to while away the hours alone in deep space. It is also wonderful for reflection and introspection as I try to find myself.

The second thing was not particularly noteworthy, other than I did not expect it. As I was jumping out of the system BLAU EURK MS-J D9-9, I noticed a contact appear on my radar the last second before the jump happened. I guess I should not be too surprised, after all, it is not like I have any particular claim on this section of space. I just struck me as odd as I did not expect anyone else to be this far out. Maybe I will let my mind play on that later, but for now, I need to get going back into the deep again.

22 January 3307 - 2107

The dim, reddish hues of light reflecting off of the planet above me has me in a quiet reverie of the day. Today was a better day than I have had in the past couple of months. I actually enjoyed the day rather than just survived it.

I am glad that I opted for this particular ASP Explorer. The previous owner was a deep space explorer like myself and had a viewing ceiling installed above the bed. I can program the computer to retract the outer hull panel so that I can look at the stars as I fall asleep and then close it after a set amount of time. I stayed up once to hear it close and the actuators make so little noise that if I had not been watching for the change I would have missed it. Even the decompression chamber that leads out to my SRV makes more noise when I break the airlock seal than the viewing panel makes.

I may have to replace the bed in this thing when I get back though. The previous owner did not like restraints so the bed is an enclosed box under the viewing panel with a mattress at the bottom. On worlds with at least .75 G, I can leave the side panel open and not feel quite so claustrophobic, but tonight that isn't an option. Here on Byoi Thua RG-T b33-1 4 a the gravity is 1/4 of that of SOL and 1/5 of my home world in the Cubeo system. Feeling so light, I am afraid that I will fall out of the bed and find myself drifting through the cabin in the morning. I know it won't happen, but I have already experienced first hand the harm that floating in 0 G can do to a body if you aren't careful.

I have had a lot of time to think since leaving the Blue Shiny Nebula. Whoever named that was really inventive in their naming conventions. Seriously, naming a nebula by the flashing bluish light pulsing of the Wolf-Rayet star at it's center almost seems a comical understatement of the beauty that the universe portrays in that system. The Federal who gave the nebula it's name should be fired and someone with an imagination to match the beauty and wonder of the galaxy hired in their place.

I can't say exactly why I have decided to undertake this sojourn. Perhaps it is to try to find myself again. So much has been lost to me since the Kepler Orbital incident last year...

NO! NO! I have had too good of a day to go back to that now. Life is about moving forward and healing, not violently ripping the scabs off old wounds to emotionally bleed out again. Today was a good day.

In actuality, today really was a good day. I may be sore from the exertion, but I had fun and enjoyed the day. I haven't felt this good since my mother died.

So this is what they were talking about in flight school, why keeping a Commander's log is so important. It helps to keep you sane when you are alone out in the void. The deep space psychiatric specialist stressed to the trainees daily that they needed to keep a log for mental health reasons, no matter how rudimentary of a writer we were. Most of us jotted down numbers from spreadsheets in the trader's log, but spent very little in the personal reflections area of the log. I think we thought that piloting a craft was more about being good maneuvering our craft than taking time to reflect on how we were feeling.

Not that I felt I was really qualified for composing any real detailed logs myself. Composition was not an important subject for me at while studying at the university on Cubeo. I was studying to be an artist, not a pilot. That changed after the NMLA decided that they were going to blow up Kepler Orbital...

Damn it! Not today! I know I have to mentally deal with that and a whole lot of other emotional baggage on this trip, but today was a good day! Why can't I focus on that?

Perhaps, tomorrow I will do some soul searching while piloting my ship and deal with some of these issues from my past. I am due for a good cry again. Perhaps that is why I chose this particular sojourn. The route I am planning to take travels through the region called The Fallows on the old maps. It sounds prettier, no, more nostalgic and has the flavor of renaissance to it. The newer designations make it sound less romantic and more clinical than what the beauty of space deserves. Maybe that is just my artistic side coming through again.

This region just feels quieter and more alone than the dense star packed regions of the stellar arms or the galactic core. A place to get away to deal with the things nagging me from my past. The psychiatrist almost didn't pass me because of those things. I remember him saying that I had experienced more in my 22nd year of life than most people have to deal with in a decade of life. Even though he rounded my age up, I guess I have to agree with him. No one should have to go through what I have this past year as quickly as I have...

So, maybe I'll have to deal with some of that emotional baggage tonight. I am going to dwell a bit on the positives before I drift off into those dark emotions and a nice glass of Cubean Wine as I drift off to sleep. I hope that the wine takes the edge off what I am going to relive in my dreams.

I managed to traverse a little over 1300 LY today. I charted several new systems, most filled with icy bodies or rocky ice bodies in them. A highlight to my exploration logs was that I found a couple of high metal bodies that were candidates for terraforming and a couple of water worlds.

The highlight of my day was when I landed on Byoi Thua ND-S d4-5 1. The planet is in a system with a Class A star and my computer said that it had a low atmosphere with .75 G. I landed and decided to take out my SRV for a couple of hours.

I am usually very timid with that thing. There wasn't much instruction to driving it in the pilot's academy so I haven't felt very comfortable with the controls in it. I don't know what it was about today, but I did not hold back on the fun I had with it today. I managed to get it going at top speed several times and only spun out a couple of times. I didn't even flip it today!

I guess I was in the mood for an adrenaline rush because at one point I took it full speed up the side of a 120M hill. When I hit the top, I ignited the thrusters and shot off the planet's surface. The altimeter in the SRV reached just over 50 meters before I began my descent back to the unforgiving rock. The landing shook my teeth and crumpled the struts on holding the front wheels in place.

It took me the better part of two hours to fabricate and replace them, but it was well worth the time. Though my hands and muscles hurt, I had fun. I don't think I have laughed like that in months. I felt almost like a little girl again.

https://inara.cz/data/gallery/131/131071x1555.jpg

I landed in a crater on Byoi Thua RG-T b33-1 4 a just before dinner. The mood here in the Class M system was subdued and warm, despite the cold temperatures of the planet. The mellowness of the atmosphere is the perfect end to this wonderful day.

"The Heavens declare the Glory of God." That was a phrase spoken at Papa's funeral. I am not sure about where the reference is from or if I quite understand the mythological undertones of the statement, but I can agree that the beauty of the space I have been traveling in the past couple of days has my heart yearning for the eternality of the sentiments. Beauty is all around us and all we have to do is take the time to take that beauty in an appreciate it.

Now, it is time for that Cubean Wine and some music from Ancient Sol. I think Beethoven will compliment the mood well as I drift off to sleep. I just hope this wine doesn't overpower my system too much as it mixes with the low-G effects of this planet tonight...