Entry 1
Woke up from a lazy afternoon nap to the sound of crashing thunder and rain splashing against the cockpit window of my starship "Lover, Please Stay...". I had parked her on a small island in a vast, toxic but calm sea—at least, that’s how I left it. Now it churned and fumed like the whole planet had decided to wake up at once. The weather control systems didn’t sugarcoat it either: radiation levels spiking to 92.8 as an extreme storm rolled over the region. Not exactly an invitation to step outside.
So I stayed put. Thirteen hours inside the cockpit, watching the storm drag itself across the horizon in waves of static and violent light. It gave me time, more than enough, to dig around. That’s when I found this journal, tucked away in a hidden compartment beneath the seatbelt housing. Must’ve belonged to the previous owner, a Gek I met at a space station not too long ago. Only two pages were written in it. Both filled with detailed descriptions of his favorite smells and long-winded claims about Gek superiority over every other race. You know… the usual.
Still, it got me thinking. I haven’t seen another sentient lifeform since entering this system two weeks ago. Not surprising, it’s an abandoned red system, after all, but knowing that doesn’t make it feel any less empty. The silence stretches differently out here. So I figured I’d put the journal to better use.
Name’s Zero. Priest of Nal. Iteration Apollo. Traveller of the endless universe. Once, I was something made of flesh and blood, at least, I think I was. Now I’m something else entirely. A robotic shell carrying what remains of a Traveller’s soul. I don’t remember how it happened. Maybe I will, eventually. Maybe it doesn’t matter.
I do know what I’ve built since then. Galaxia Cabins: my own company. Resorts, rest stops, places for Travellers to pause and breathe between the endless exploration. There’s something satisfying about leaving behind something stable in a universe that rarely is. I’ve been moving ever since I first woke up on a toxic world 3 years, maybe more, ago. Hard to keep track out here. I’ll write about those earlier journeys too, when the time feels right. No sense letting them drift away.
.
The storm finally broke not long ago. Radiation levels dropped to a “manageable” 60.8. Still nothing to take lightly. I’ve sealed the exosuit tight, running final checks before stepping out. The sea is still restless, the sky not fully settled, but that just makes it more interesting.
Time to see what this planet has been hiding beneath all that noise.
