“I’m beginning to understand why those DIY enthusiasts love their craft so much. There’s a certain thrill to it, a satisfaction of creating something with your own hands. Though I doubt most hobbyists have the fate of their survival riding on their projects. And I doubt they’re working with spaceship scraps on an alien planet either. Not exactly your standard backyard project.”
“It’s been challenging, to say the least. My toolbox consists of what wasn’t incinerated during the crash. Not much, I can tell you that. Some parts of the spaceship are completely fried, no better than scrap metal. Others, however, still hold potential. The solar arrays for instance, they’ve survived surprisingly well.”
“I’ve been studying the layout of the land. It’s barren, save for a few odd rock formations, but it’s flat. Ideal for what I need. Space isn’t an issue. Sunlight isn’t either. My main concern was the capacity. Back home, an energy company for a 250kW solar system installation would have been able to design a whole complex battery system. But here, it’s just me.”
“However, I’ve been able to salvage enough parts to build a makeshift power grid. It’s not as sophisticated or efficient as a 100kW solar system, but given the sun’s intensity here, it doesn’t need to be. I’ve installed panels all around the crash site. They soak up the sunlight, converting it into the much-needed electricity.”
“It’s a bit ironic, really. I was a pilot. I flew through the stars. Now, I’m an electrician, an engineer, and a survival expert. And I’ve become all these things on a world bathed in eternal sunlight, where every metaphorical sunrise is just another false hope of rescue.”
“The makeshift solar system is operational now. Lights flicker on in the ship, and it’s as if Tranquility has come alive again. It’s a small victory, but a vital one. I now have power. Power for heating, power for my equipment, power to send out distress signals. Power to survive.”
“For now, it’s enough. I’ve taken the first step. As daunting as it is, there’s a strange sense of satisfaction. I’ve stared adversity in the face and said, ‘Not today.’ For now, it’s one small step for Max, one giant leap for survival. Max Remington, signing out.”