**Captain's Log - SS *Good Times II***
**5 July - 26 August 4501**
**En Route to Midgard (Via Every Backwater This Side of Nowhere)**
**5 July - Novaya Volga, Republic of Istengrav**
Customs took their sweet time—two hours of paperwork and suspicious glances. They cleared everyone as tourists... except Beñat. His Vega Federation citizenship might as well be a plague marker out here. They confined him to the ship for the duration. "Try not to start a war from the cargo hold," I told him. He responded with a gesture that needed no translation.
While refueling, I asked the kiosk clerk to add pelmeni and a pear soda to the bill. The man looked at me like I'd asked for a live chicken. Beñat’s gonna eat cold dumplings alone in the dark like some kind of political prisoner. I almost felt bad. Almost.
Castor, ever the vulture, asked about Aidan’s money. We voted to dump it into the ship’s fund. His battle dress and plasma pistol are locked in the armoury. Some things feel too heavy to wear just yet.
6-7 July - Io to Istengrav
Refuelled at Io. Picked up a couple fleeing the Republic—asylum seekers with tired eyes and no credits. Agreed to drop them at Rachnos for free. The *Good Times* isn’t a charity, but sometimes it damn well should be.
14 July - Stepanos
Abandoned system. Automated perimeter drones still buzz at the edges, keeping the Jred at bay—mostly. We siphoned spore-infested water from a black-glass lake. Lucid’s running it through three extra filters. I don’t trust it. I don’t trust anything out here.
21 July - Rachnos
Dropped our refugees. Acid atmosphere, everything buried or orbital. They thanked us with a bottle of something that might’ve been liquor or coolant. We’re calling it “Rachnos Rocket Fuel.”
Lucid found us a scientist in a dusty bar—Dr. Aris Thorne, a crazy scientist type with wild eyes and wilder theories about the Jred. He’s convinced Midgard holds “the truth.” I asked what we should expect.
“Automated defenses. Still active. They don’t like visitors.”
He wants to set up a lab there. Alone. Either he’s brilliant or suicidal. Maybe both.
**28 July - New Prague**
Library data warned against landing. Locals shoot first and don’t bother with questions. Refueled from the gas giant and kept our distance. Sometimes the mail can wait.
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**6-15 August - New London & North Southampton**
Jred-infested worlds. We landed under watch, siphoned fuel, and processed it in orbit. Every shadow felt like it was moving. Every vent whisper sounded like spores. We didn’t linger.
24 August - Miracle
They call it "Miracle" because the Jred never came. No one knows why. Maybe the Jred didn’t see anything worth consuming. Maybe the planet’s just lucky. Castor called in a favour from Heinrich H., a jump drive tech and part-time fence. He looked over our schematics and whistled. *“I can work with Midgard parts. If you don’t die getting them.” We did monthly maintenance: air cycled, water purged, and food restocked. The Good Times feels almost livable again. Almost.
26 August - Miracle Orbit
Refuelled at the gas giant. Processed the tanks. Next stop: Midgard.
The scientist is humming in the lab. Lucid’s running diagnostics on the Danger Bot. Beñat’s still sulking in his quarters. Everything’s normal.
We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.
— Captain Peter Avignon
SS *Good Times II
*“Chasing miracles and missing parts”
**[Addendum: The pear soda was awful. Beñat laughed when I choked. Worth it.]**