Henrik Refsnes

I give up. It’s too hard.

On another note, the slingshot worked, and nobody is going to burn up in atmo. Which is a small fucking consolation when the moon passes by the observatory window. That’s where I’m at now, back where this shitshow started, with grog from the mess, here to watch an epic failure unfold in slow-mo.

After all that, I missed. I fucking missed the moon.

I suppose the leeway was always too small. It was never going to work, and anytime now, the Luna shipyards will pass by in all its glory. Oh, well, what’s a functional shipyard anyway? Frightfully dull, and boring, and, and, completely fucking unreachable.

The last of humanity, in a 60 trillion-dollar junkyard without engines, hurtling past into the dark yonder like some 21st century billionaire’s roadster. Roll the God damn credits.

I quit.