Don't Fly Tired

I swear I've been up and down the Federation for weeks trying to find that old man, or at least somebody who's seen him. People look at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am crazy. I feel crazy. This... this all feels crazy.

I mean two weeks ago I was going through the same daily routine, fixing vending machines, installing new ones, arguing with people about how I just fix the machines, I don't do refunds... Now there is no structure in my life. I fly to a station, I check the job board, I scout out the bars, I maybe fill my hold with computer equipment and fly 13 light years to another station, sell it on... I do what I want. There are no guarantees. There's no manager breathing down my neck. It's freedom. Real freedom. But...

How many different planets have I seen just in the past week, I wonder?

There's always a "but", isn't there? There's times when I wonder if I'll EVER get to see Sol. There's times when I wonder if it even exists, or if it's just some magical paradide like Shangri-La or Xanadu. People keep telling me the same thing - "Join the navy". That's great, but you know what? There's no damn recruitment offices! You've seen the signs, right? "Federation Navy - don't call us, we'll call you". I'm somehow supposed to try and get noticed. So I keep making friends with companies and organisations affiliated with the navy. I take on all sorts of work - combat, trade, even smuggling runs. People tell me I'm sure to get noticed... but nothing.

It's been keeping me up at night. I've been losing sleep. I'm ALWAYS tired. But you know what, if I can give you just ONE tip for how to fly, it would be this: DON'T FLY TIRED. I was hauling 32 tons of Consumer Technology. Easy run, right? only 2 jumps, and the contract was for a LOT of money. Of course, I needed some funds to start with to buy the damn stuff, but no biggie, I was fairly flush.

So what did I do as soon as I got out the station? I hit the damn cargo hatch instead of the supercruise engage. I watched as my cargo got jettisoned into the black. I tried my hardest to scoop it all up, but as it was technically now legal salvage, I could only sit in chagrin as I watched a Hauler fly in, grab everything and then leave. I must have lost 150 grand on that. On top of it all, I got some very weird looks when I turned up in the station again.

On the plus side, I finally figured out how to use my nav computer...

Later that night I crashed into the side of a station, crashed into the side of a ship that was trying to enter the station, and ended up hauling a full hold full of biowaste to Tau Ceti in order to pay for the fine. Later still (in space, the night ever ends) I took on a job to locate some fish and haul it back to Barnard's Star. Try travelling 50 light year with a hold reeking of fish and shit. At this point I had well and truly had enough. So I figured... why not just go for a journey? The trip from LHS 3447 to Barnard's Star was a wonderful experience - no pressure, the thrill of discovery... why not do the same thing?

So I did.

It was on this journey that I witnessed the most penetratingly beautiful sights I have ever beheld: a white dwarf star. Look at the picture. Just look at it.

Forever burned into my soul.

Mere words cannot express the emotions that overtook me when I saw the remnants of something once mighty. I spent hours say in my ship, motionless, allowing the feelings to wash over me. And I cried. I cried because I knew one day this would all be gone. One day WE would all be gone, and there would be nobody left to marvel at its haunting beauty.

Just the thought of it still brings a tear to my eye.

 And then, finally, I slept.