i did not ration my chemboosts prudently.
drifting amidst moon salvage dying star it is a race between a friendly refueling and being struck depressurized by this backwater system's furniture.
all the billboards have been beaming some crazy stardate not so distant, wonder what it means...

most people stay down and keep the company of the horizon well not me even if or perhaps despite the meaninglessness.
i come to find out the ship has holes.
crackshots, the chaotic good, medicine smugglers, soupfiends, still silent adepts. they are good for a cue but not for company. in fact their horizon is very much their own drifting amidst.
faction credits only selfgenerate in hacked auth the sneak himself a hacker of sorts each horizon a realm each realm a ruler, rival, chaotic natural elements, direction of conquest...

and anyway as long as the occasional debris glint hits the fins it is enough to perpetuate the radio ping fantastic echo cascade