| Matthewnsw journal entry for 3733 0523 12:34 | |
| Subject: | Entry 4. Sanctuary. 0EC9:007C:099B:0020 |
| Location: | Euclid Galaxy, Xafordully Terminus region |
| Discoveries: | |
Entry
I had been forced to learn many things since first waking beside my ship all that time ago but arguably my most important lesson was this: no matter how pressing your journey and how alluring your destination, sometimes it is essential to stop moving, find a place to rest and allow yourself to heal. The challenge is then to find the right place to allow this but then, once you’re recuperated and renewed, the challenge becomes to stop resting and start moving again – and that can be a very difficult challenge sometimes.
The new system I had jumped to was packed with freighters, haulers and explorers buzzing their transit lines to and from the stations, to and from the surface of the three planets my scanner had picked up. Of course there were raiders – where there is trade & opportunity, the raiders always appear – but they were focused mainly on the bigger prizes and I was able to skirt the edges of their battles and travel unmolested to the nearest planet surface.
In hindsight, that system and that planet arrived just when I needed it most. The moment I broke through the atmosphere and saw rolling grassy hills, majestic peaks and dense patches of forest my interest was piqued. Upon landing, I had to check my environmental readings twice because I did not believe them the first time. No toxicity, no radioactivity, nothing extreme whatsoever. The air was largely breathable. A little colder than I would like but not freezing. There was a light mist of perpetual rain but it felt right. The planet felt right and I knew immediately that I would stay here a while.
And stay I did. I lost track of time and, for the first time since my awakening, that did not matter. Every new day that dawned on this planet offered yet more opportunity to explore, to catalogue the minerals, the plants and the animals. The more I explored, the more I found observatories, trading posts, other life. The more energy I expended, the more there was to do – and yet I felt replenished rather than sapped by this life. The more steps I took, the more I wore my footprint into this planet.
It was Entity Frava the Korvax Technician posted Xqai Forest Tranmission Station that first told me of the abandoned outpost. It had been many sols since the last occupants had left the planet and he believed no viable claim was pending. The lure of sleeping somewhere other than my ship’s cockpit was strong and I set off on the flight towards the destination that Frava had marked in my ship’s records. I flew until the sun was low in the sky off to my right, the land passing in a blur beneath me until I finally saw it – a solitary circular structure alone on a green plain of swaying grass. I landed close by out of habit – always intent on covering the open ground from ship to structure as quickly as possible before some predatory creature could attack me but I had nothing to worry about. What creatures I saw were docile, content to leave me alone as long as I left them alone.
The door circuitry was old and easily bypassed and I told myself that if the outpost was viable, my first job should be to strengthen the security. It turned out that the outpost was viable but I never did enhance the door protection because it was not needed. The door stayed locked, kept the cooler rains and the inquisitive sauropods outside whilst I tinkered, slept, dreamed and built within. I was a being possessed and by the end of the next sol I had gathered enough resources from the surrounding land to plan my expansion of the outpost.
As far as any Korvax can ever be considered friendly, Frava always greeted me with something approaching warmth when I would visit with him. He was a wealth of information: he offered suggestions on how I could further expand the outpost without breaking my unit balance; where certain resources could best be located but above all, Frava offered his company to me. He was the first connection I had made since starting this journey and the realisation of how much I valued his friendship made me fearful of ever travelling alone again. The more I stayed, the harder it became to leave. Long after my recuperation was complete, I found new reasons to avoid leaving the system. I left the ground when I needed to buy more rare commodities that planet-side traders did not stock or when I had enough gold mined to sell to the merchants whose haulers landed constantly at the orbital station. Upon Frava’s recommendation, I secured the service of some specialist technicians who were able to help me further improve and expand my abode. Many sols later I realised that I had created something I had feared would be forever lost : I had built myself a home, finally a place I really belonged.
My next realisation came two sols later when I realised that I was afraid. This fear was different to the ones I’d felt before. This time I was not afraid about being stranded on a violently aggressive planet with no resources, nor about being overpowered in the dark of space by a pirate fleet. The fear I was starting to feel now was far more relevant and home-grown. I was afraid of losing my safe place.
It started rationally enough. I became reluctant to leave the planet on those necessary trips to the orbiting station. Oh, I summoned the courage when I had to, but increasingly I told myself that I could do without those ‘necessary’ items that the orbital station stocked – that I could rough it, make do without and my off-planet trips became fewer in number. I relied more on the trading post, only 0.2 sols flight from my home and for a short time that was the answer. In time though, even that journey became too challenging, too inconvenient. The Season of Storms had arrived on my world and the weather had changed; bringing driving freezing rain from light until dark. It did not hinder travel, especially for an experienced traveller I but I seized the opportunity to further limit my radius. My ship sat in the long grass, battered by the winds and rains and did not lift off for many sols. I took shelter in my base, drawing the technicians into long discussions about potential improvements to pass the time. Eventually they tired of my procrastination and, in turn, my company. They would present me with a concept, engage my support in obtaining resources or blueprints and I would promise faithfully to venture out, obtain them. I never left the base, never kept my end of the agreement. My Gek farmer was the first to leave my service, 17 sols into the Season of Storms. I had sensed the discontent amongst my colleagues but even so, I had always assumed that my militaristic and forceful Vy’Keen colleagues would be the first to leave. As it happened they were departures two and three, lasting 2 sols longer than the farmer. After that it was just a matter of time before my Korvax Scientist announced his departure and, by sol 21 of the Season of Storms, I was alone.
It was halfway through the 38th sol when I finally acknowledged that I had no choice but to leave. My provisions were no more, my resources were no more. What little chance of survival I had was sitting in my ship – minor reserves of plutonium in my thrusters, enough to launch once and once only. I was forced to acknowledge that if I stayed any longer, this home would become my tomb. The idea of leaving still scared me – but the idea of dying scared me more. It was time to go.
Bowed and braced against the driving rain and winds, I covered the open ground to my fighter and climbed inside, pulling the canopy into place and shutting the storms outside. My idyllic life and safe home were on the other side of that canopy but I could no longer recognise them through the darkness and the storm outside. It had been so long since I had sat in this seat, looked out through the glass and the HUD that it took some time to get my bearings and organise my thoughts. The force of the winds thudding against my ship’s hull brought me to my senses; told me that my launch window was slowly closing and I reached down and engaged the onboard computer, hoping that the passing of time had not rendered it inoperative I need not have worried – a low surge, a quiet hum and lights all around me lit, flashed, settled into their patterns as readings were obtained and data projected. Thrusters were primed, the ship was ready- and even then I reached out for one final sign that my leaving could be avoided; that the storms would soon fade and I could venture out of my base, forage for resources and stay for longer. My prayer went unanswered, unheard above the natural cacophony swirling around outside my craft. With one final look at my abode, I engaged and lifted upwards, nose piercing layer upon layer of cloud until I broke through; sat above the storm in the peace and quiet of the atmosphere in some kind of neutral zone. Below me was a boiling cloud mass of fear and chaos as far as I could see. Above me lay unknown galaxies and systems. Somewhere out there would be another home, a new home and I punched the galaxy map up on my display. I had rested for long enough and now my journey would continue. Many worlds lay before me, countless possibilities offered up. Surely one of them would have answers to my questions?
As I engaged the hyperdrive and flew forward into the pool of light fragments that enveloped my ship, I realised that I had not said goodbye to Entity Frava – yet immediately I knew that I would see him again. I did not now how or when, but I knew for sure, our paths would converge again before my journey was finished.