Stardate: 23651 Location: Sector Alpha Nineteen. Enroute from Grognar. Garbage Containment Unit. Size: small Mood - fuzzy So now seemed a good a time as any that i should remember to start updating this. Given my current position i seem to have a bit of time on my hands and the freedom in which to get my thoughts on the datapad. I can't say this will last long, or if it will ever see the light of a star - unless that's where we're heading right now, but i sort of doubt it. It's not just that i can't see the ship's destination being the heart of a sun but from what i understand somebody actually paid for the trash pile i'm in. Maybe you're that person. Maybe you've just pulled this pad off my corpse after you found me in your scrap pile and was kind of curious as to what i was writing. If that's the case. Screw you. I hope you mix your charts up and do cruise into the sun because you're just that stupid. That's what you get for killing stowaways. I had to do it anyway. There was no other way off that rock. It's hard to keep track of time when you're used to three suns and two moons. How does a planet with only one of each manage it? How do you know when it's time for a half day nap? You may think i would have had all the time in their world to ask but the Grognars there weren't the type that were willing to speak to me. So in case you're wondering. My corpse stowed away on your vessel because it just wanted off. Nothing beyond that. I had nowhere else to go and when i realised the scrap was being sold i just got into the easiest to fit-and-seal-myself-in Container i could find and just waited for you to smuggle me on board. Then i waited here, not quite knowing if i was going to be used for furnace fuel or not, and waited for you to find and murder me. If i may make a request, i would prefer the furnace over the airlock. I always had this fear of being trapped outside a ship you see and well, it doesn't seem like it would be the best way to go. It occurs to me i’m in one of those positions where i have very little to say. It’s certainly cramped in here. I’ve had no food for at least two half days and my left leg has most definitely gone dead as i haven’t been able to move it for a while now. Perhaps this is how i’ll die. Trapped in a box that i’ve yet to realise can only be opened from the outside. Should i describe myself for you, in case your finding and subsequent murdering of me leaves my body unable to be identified. No i don’t think i’ll bother. Though as i type i realise two half days doesn’t make sense. I should be a lot hungrier by now and the whole need to relieve myself thing should have become a more pressing issue by now. You would think i would be a lot less light hearted about my situation. Well let me just tell you this, my eventual murderer and would be incinerator of stowaways. The situation i was in before this situation in which my movement is mostly contained to my typing fingers and the occasional wiggle of a cramped limb devoid of blood, was such a bad situation that compared to it i might as well be in the pleasure baths of Lacron Nine right now. The expensive ones that is. I like to convince myself that we all fell for the budget ones the first time we went there on Academy break. The expensive ones just have to be better, either that or the marketing department is fantastic at executing word of mouth. Loss of time sense probably means we’re still travelling through the light. The time is off on the datapad at the moment so i have no idea. Not that you care about the specifics of this. This is no doubt nothing more than an amusing byline as you see my skin solidify to an uncomfortably low degree as i float past you on my the beginning of my endless trip through eternity. I know you don’t care about me. No one cares about me anymore. My family are dead. My friends are gone. The people who found me won’t be finding me again anytime soon with any luck. I am wonderfully alone and couldn’t be happier. Feast on that little bit of information as you toss me out the nearest airlock. You ruined my happy moment, trapped in my little container, completely unaware that i passed out about half way into writing this and when i woke up again nothing had changed. You ended that the moment you killed me. You better regret that you piece of Talon turd. I could have been so much and you took it away from me because you just didn’t like stowaways. Why if i weren’t being ripped apart by the vacuum of space i would-
The cylinder opened, stuffy air escaping to back back in with the fresh stuff. The sudden influx of light made the gleam of her datapad seem pitch black by comparison. Mateo let her eyes blink their way back to seeing the world around her. A light above her. Little else. For a moment she dared not move, not just out of fear for what may be outside the cylinder but also the numbness of her leg that made itself all too clear as she hauled herself out of the tube.
An attempt at leaving stealthily was made, but quickly thwarted as needles struck her from within and the sudden loss of balance caused her to tumble out of what was her home for the last unknown number of hours.
Her new home was larger, yet just as poorly lit, only the light above her and one leading off to a corridor giving her any kind of idea where she was. A room full of scrap. There was a shadow leaving the room as she flopped her way out of the cylinder.
“Hey wait-” she tried to say, hours of silence taking their toll on her voice and coming out as a barely audible croak instead. The shadow disappeared, and she was suddenly glad for the lucky break. Hiding was the best cause of action at this point. She had no idea how big the ship was, no windows would imply something a bit beyond a Floater. If she was lucky it would be a Cruiser, something that would allow her to wander with the crowds without being noticed. If she could get to a port window, she could work out bearings from there. There was even a possibility she was already in atmosphere, though it would be just her luck if she was still on Grognar after all that. There had definitely been a lightspace jump, so it was at least ten percent unlikely.
Mateo gave herself a few moments, letting her blood get back in all the right places and remembering to switch the datapad off. It wouldn’t have much juice left after the trip and she may need it later to attempt communications or transfer monies.
First, make a plan.
Find out where she was. Find food or liquids to consume. Find somewhere where she can sleep undisturbed where no local security could bother her. She had only been in the cylinder for a few hours of current time and someone did come in here, apparently to open cylinders and then leave without checking their contents. Perhaps they just wanted the lid. Even so, it meant here wasn’t safe enough to stay hidden for long periods of time. A bathroom would do the job nicely. If it is a cruiser then public ones mean she could have a stall to herself for the duration of the trip. That would be perfect and not at all horrible and kind of traumatising. Still. Better than Grognar. Anything will also be better than Grognar. One mile in any direction away from here is better than Grognar.
After that, waiting. Waiting waiting waiting. Oh how she would wait, and when the opportunity arrives jump ship. The three closest inhabited planets to Grognar were Arillion, Camerio and Skull World VII. All civilised. All reasonable compared to the harsh, continuous hell of the always raining at all times Grognar.
Skull World would be the best. She had never been on a Spin Flasher before.
Then what? A job would be best. Get some monies and a place to stay. And then. A new life. One where she started again. Away from everything she knew. With nothing left.
A fresh start.
Mateo shook her head. It wasn’t the time for that. She had to investigate. Step One of the plan. Find out where she was.