Nothing is always First

Day 0: Eve of launch
Captain’s Personal Files

We board the ship tomorrow at 0700. No breakfast beforehand. No food of any kind, since we’re not sure how this portal is going to affect us physically. It’s the only really dangerous part of the whole mission; if we live through it the rest of the trip will be comparatively boring.

I have just reviewed the manifest and made an inspection of the cargo hold, such as it is. This ship was not designed for hauling anything really, except the gates. But it appears that all of our personal effects have been stowed properly. Luggage in crew bunks, sentimental items in our cubbies in the mess hall. I knew a astronaut once who routinely reversed it – put clothes and hygiene items in his cubby and kept his bunk storage for his sentimental allowance. A guitar, you see, fits quite nicely in the under bunk storage.

Against regulations, of course, but it’s that tension which has carried humanity forward. Duty and desire, dreams and despair. Rules and rebellion.

I must make sure to command this crew well. Small though it is. The media is using terms like “elite” and “carefully selected,” but we all know, don’t we, that there are no super-humans. We all have flaws, tiny hairline fractures that will cause our whole selves to shatter if struck in just the right way.

I’m glad I chose to write this first log in my personal files. It’s much too chatty to be official. How should an actual log read?

We board the ship tomorrow at 0700.
An inspection of ship items and manifest has been made.
Ship crew have meshed well in the last six months of training. Last mission test was completed successfully, with high marks all around.
No further preparations required.
Mission command has advised us to “spend these last few hours with family.”

The stars look inviting, here at the helm.