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