arrival at zed; found things to be messy (overrun, chaos, general damnation in every sense); handled accordingly (via separation / termination of living & un-); sorted sane from in-; torched the useless; a charred, depopulated place left for any remnants. have since loaded ship, gathered crew, & set to continue colonizing this aerial web. grateful to smith & wesson for financing our foray. final observation: zed is a rather dull, rather dead place.
prepping second voyage, at present suspended flight is only desired action; three leagues away from any areas of note. retiring after dinner for the horrid & the honored dead. pulled muscle (back) when reaching for fallen iPod & desirous of a good night's rest.
stop at outpost longer than desired; spotted abandoned transports everywhere, yet found no motorists. four took to the terra; self, demoted gofer, and two boatswain. directed gofer and one swain into establishment for supplies (mostly beer & chocolate biscuits), and self and second swain explored the ground. silence permeates space, but the inactivity grasped on land signaled disarray. after indicating to second swain noted figures in the foreground, and receiving no response, there turned and found self alone. the gofer and first swain returning at this point, armed, and begining to transfer provisions onto ship. knowing the gofer to be a collected figure, a change in her composure indicated some unpleasantries in the outpost. before an account could be reached, the figures previously noted noticed us, and with great zeal made for ship. eager for information, the first swain made his way to the figures, now very animated and the distance between us shortened, before the second swain, injured and clasping his shoulder, motioned for the sealing of the doors. the four now onboard, with the gofer stating simply "they were all gone." have pressed for more, but in typical fashion, gofer is restrained. medic now tending to the injured lad; fevered communication attempts for looming zed.
gofer demoted: cache all plundered. gofer's inability to show SELF discipline staggers the mind. per second, as the evening waned and others retired, gofer suffered some sort of delusions. began chanting, dancing, and otherwise mocking limitations. several boatswain attempted a suppression, but inebriation made the gofer unmatchable. tired, shamed, and defeated, the coxswain, angered over the destruction, smashed the last bottle over the gofer's head. will pause at the closest outstation, a league or so away from zed. gofer's confined to the stockade, but knowledge of zed and surrounding areas will mean her due release at our secondary and primary stops. have attempted show of good faith by contacting zed prior to arrival, but signal has not been returned. expect a larger can of redbull necessary, as connection has proven unreliable.
writing after a most satisfactory dinner: some not in attendance due to responsibilities of maintaining a successful ship. their absence, though felt, did not impede the gathering's merriment. decided to retire early to permit a sense of unity amongst the crew and instructed the gofer to keep the alcohol supply limited. a continuous supply this evening would mean halting for replenishment, and current pace wants momentum. the gofer requests a stop at the moon zed, citing a richness in sea life. claims we can navigate the deeper recesses of space with completeness if we understand the fishes's simple, profound, & elegant grasp of their dense habitat.
will retire, biding the boatswain to cease their continued palaver and heighten their mediation.
lethargy & limpness abound in space: the crew's lax attitude to missing biscuits disturbs. this being the nessie's first hiccup, it echoes the gang's handling of a future crisis. expectations are deflated, but resolve remains. the ship's gofer, sensing annoyance with the situation, reminds of space ice. will have later.
welcome dinner planned; will iron white shirt and wear silver medal. certain to capitalize on a very important milestone, our first evening in space.
apologies for the late update, multiple attempts at a connection failed before triangulating a signal via an old can of redbull and a pair of manicure scissors. marveled at finding empty can in a strange plastic container on transport. spotted a sort of communicatory emblem on the side of said caisso, best described as a sort of pyramid formed out of three arrows, each directing itself after the first in a sick cannibalistic dance. will have ship gofer document in our records.
travel going as planned, with communications functional and crew content. if things progress at current degree, can expect first intergalatic contact sooner than hoped. must talk to ship's second, as it seems we've run out of chocolate biscuits.
embarking without any tangible prompt, hoping to discover the unfathomable, brimming with a sense of being ill prepared, & arming self with a solar driven iPod & mac. also debating the demands of hand-to-tentacle combat on manicured nails.