Diary of Endelle Stroth - 11.05.2270
Well, I’ve been on the road for about a month. I’ve got… three days left of rations before I have to start breaking into the emergency bio-paste… gods forbid. It’s cold as the void in here, I’ve barely slept and I’ve long since run out of clean clothes. Quite the precipitous fall from the days of ambassadorial dinners and the musty stacks of the University’s venerable library. Am I bitter? You bet I’m bitter.
The good news is that by my calculations - and it’s certainly been a while since I last did any field work, but I think I still have the knack for astrogation - the Looking Glass crossed the borders of the Ele Dominion about forty-eight hours ago. I don’t know if that makes me any safer than I would be in Queil or Conglomerate space, but I imagine I’ll find out soon enough.
I’m not sure the Ele even know I’m here yet. I would have expected to see some kind of watch station, or a perimeter field, or something to mark the border. But… nothing yet. No fighter patrol, no regulated traffic. I daren’t risk broadcasting my location by sending out a radio signal; that’d only invite trouble. I’ll have to talk someone down from claiming whatever bounty’s on my head eventually, but I’d rather do that face-to-face than under threat of being pulverised by plasma.
I suppose I’ll just keep going in a straight line until I find a planet. The company could certainly be worse.
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