Perpetual/Connection/Lonely/Sleep

Days and nights have become nothing more than a slog. Well that’s not
entirely true. The last night has been a slog. Its been so long since
I’ve been planet side I’m not sure the day night cycle still exists.
Out here it just seems like perpetual night. Counting the stars
provides something of a distraction.

The bright burn of a jet stream. First one I’ve seen in a while.
It suddenly freezes, then vanishes. God speed fellow traveler. And
that’s a timely reminder. I should check my own jump co-ordinates.
Can’t be too far away now.

The fuel gauge has taken a dive. There’s enough to make it to the nearest
station so that’s pretty good. Hopefully I should be able to purchase and/or
barter for fuel. If not, well, I’m all out-of-pocket.

~~~

My docking request is working its way through the station. It’s
quite possible that it’s taking sometime to be accepted. So I’m
just floating around watching the notches on the ship’s fuel gauge slip away.

People willing to trade, couldn’t really find them. Aliens willing to trade.
Well, I was surrounded by symbols I couldn’t possibly identify trying to
communicate with a guy, four arms and eyes, armour plated. Yet, through a
series of seemingly impossible gestures I came out with fuel and he a nice amount
of compensation. Always nice to make a connection.

There’s a little delay before the console bleeps into life. I double-check the
flight path and see if any adjustments can be made. The engines fire up and it’s
reassuring to hear that noise again. The landing gear clicks into place and it’s
about that time, to head off into that deep black star strewn void.

~~~

I haven’t seen another ship since departing the station. But the scanners
inundated with debris signals, so the shields are warming up. But that’s
all that’s out there. Just another lonely stretch of space. You really have
to make friends out of these. It’s the only way to get by out here.

Remnants of a fighter. The wings a short distance away. Then the rest of it,
strung out over a blue-green nebula. A disemboweled cruiser lies ahead, light
from the gas cloud floods through the hollow. It’s quicker to fly through rather
than round. The other side presents a ship graveyard, left to rest in this
silent aftermath.

Every wreckage is a story. Of lasers carving up cockpits. Of chain guns mutilating
engines. Torpedo’s rupturing pod bay doors. And…well, that’s new.Like a thousand
tiny maws chewed the hull wide open. No sense in hanging around. Lets go.

~~~

Two. Three. Five more come into view. Jet streams burning bright all heading to the same point. I’m almost there. I must be. The console confirms it. This journey marked by its vastness. It’s done. I’ve made it. I’ve made it.

It ain’t much. Just two space traders swapping nods. But by the angles you can tell it’s an connection between two long haulers, an appreciation of those vast distances crossed. Behind us droids and power armour wearers unload cargo. Once that’s delivered, it’s payday. Tis a good day.

Sleep that exists in the context of the day night cycle. Food that is
actually food and not a mess of some freeze-dried deep field stuff. Being
able to sit around and not be on constant alert for pirates. Free from the
tyranny of fuel gauges and star charts. Things to look forward to. I’ll get
the urge to go out again but right now, I’ll rest. For a little while.

~~~

Last four posts all in one. Music listened while copying and pasting.

God it’s good. So good.

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One comment

  1. kutukamus · November 7

    This Mr. Postman will be delivering forever 🙂

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