Hello, me.
When I awoke, I was told that many of my crew had settled, somewhere, married and retired. The majority, however, seemed content to wait for my return from deep sleep. Yes, my slumber has come to an end, though the nagging threat of existential doubt still lingers on. Should I walk again, pilot again those vast hulks of my armada, in spite of all the dead in the past? Should I allow myself to risk the lives of ever more of those I consider as my comrades or fellows? The old crew and me held us a meeting, and they were all ready to go, after years, ready to get that last fat salary to afford the mansion of their dreams.
I felt a tiny bit sorry for them, when they died in Abyssal space.
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