Today I have decided to start a log of everything that happens to myself that is of any significant note. It is my sincerest hope that in the future, when this is read by the children of our children's children, they will know what life was like for those on the less socially acceptable side of the law.
For those reading this in the future, if indeed you are, then I hope this log provides some insight as to why history seems as complicated as it is, and helps you to understand the culture of the time period as well. [color=transparent]"'!
Today I returned home to the Junk Pile/Junction's wreck from a rather extended vacation of approximately two weeks' length. When I arrived in Kansas, I was greeted by a group of individuals calling themselves "The Project," as well as Krys and Kels in their gunship. The cheerful band seemed to be led by a man whom was referred to solely by the name "Uncle Smelly Old Pete." Certainly, he fit the description.
They claimed to be searching for a new home, and they had pegged Junction as the ideal spot to do so. I informed them that it was already inhabited, and that they would have to wait until a vote had been called amongst the inhabitants of the station as to what to do about this rather peculiar situation.
While I was doing so, a Reaver mercenary with the callsign "Silver" appeared and chased the group, consisting of two Border Worlds Transports and an antiquated Pilgrim Liner, out of range. Krys and Kels moored the Binary Coupling at the station, and Billy Stewarts, who had arrived earlier, began talking with me about the strange group.
One thing led to another, and, well... it was certainly a memorable evening. I'll be sending a message to the other inhabitants of Junction soon, wherever they may be.
That concludes this log entry.
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