Nine months drifting before the sleeve support systems turned over, and here I am.
Nine months in a long, elliptic orbit around Zoline Port. Nine months, technically dead.
And here I am.
Are we all deathless now? Our ships burn and we vaporize in space, or in stars, or to thargoid fire, and poof; we come back.
My support systems died. My sleeve lost power. Poof; I'm back.
The future is long.
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