39 lines
1.7 KiB
Plaintext
39 lines
1.7 KiB
Plaintext
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From: UFV Downeaster
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Position: 21.30, -88Z.28, -357.4Y
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Departure: 2120.13.10
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Reldate: 00229889
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Source: A321.8S9.H1A.0900
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Destination: A321.78C.00A.1001
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Seckey: aPSK42bYhZ09JCX0i2xm9ktyUGk4gJnOsz7P+iBC/4g=
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Mode: COMM
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----
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LOG ENTRY #90
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I remember once thinking that time was the enemy -- there's never enough. Here,
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I expected celestial objects to take my breath away and make time even more
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precious. There's nothing but time now.
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I also remember reading about the first Terran astronauts, floating in hacked
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together treehouses in low-Earth orbit, their schedules planned to the minute.
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No time to waste when it costs the GDP of a small nation to keep you at 17k
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km/s and only technically in space; barely out of atmo.
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Given the choice, I bet those cowboys would have loved to change places with me.
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Here, travelling near the speed of light, a dot of rock somewhere on our
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electronic horizon, a mission to strip it of all it's precious metals so we can
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keep the fab going at least one more generation. But I'm not gonna lie to this
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log, I would change places those fucking cowboys in a heartbeat, too. This
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isn't the wild west. And it's not low-Earth orbit either. Our schedules are wide
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open until we make contact and beat the living shit out this miserable rig
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hoping it's dark sleep hasn't caused something else to die.
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No, I'm not happy today. But that doesn't really matter. S-8S9.H1A.0900 is
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locked in front of us and we'll spend the next six months trying to slow us down
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enough to do what we're paid to do. Part of me hopes this message gets lost in
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the QEC shit hole. I've probably already been too honest for CentOps comfort.
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Mission parameters nominal. Target signal strong. ETOA 6.2 terran months.
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