Sitrep. 61 hours to point of no return, and I need another quarter mile cable. It’s close enough that I could dismantle my makeshift coms array and use that cable. I’ll get a smaller window to hit the Icarus, but at least it’s possible.
On the flip side, I would be flying blind. Al’s calculations for that are, well, let’s just say in the world of space pirates, double eye-patches do not make you queen. Hey Al, how’s that for a comeback? You may now call me pirate queen.
Lizzie, I believe the correct idiom is, in the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.
You believe? That’s a new one. Surely there’s some badass queen pirates too?
Grace O’Malley. Landowner, sea-captain, political activist, and queen of pirates. But records indicate she had both her eyes.
There you go. Smart woman and point proven. It’s a long shot. The other option is to jump myself to another wreck and scavenge, which has its own set of problems.
Do I attach the cable to the other ship, secure my way back, and risk nudging the Ark out of its precious alignment with the Icarus? Or do I wait for the Ark to come back around and pray my aim is good enough? The Ark is a hulk, but everything is small in space.
Even the fucking moon. 17.3 seconds. What the hell am I doing? Launching myself blindly into space? Slingshot the Ark? Jesus Christ, I’m losing it.
So. Yea. Anyway, it’s time to go make some epic space-pirate queen level shit here. Wish me luck. Oh right, there’s no one out there. Queen of nothing, that’s me. Al, cue some Metallica and cut the feed, will you?
Henrik Refsnes 
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