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It's three in the morning and I'm trying to get back to Earth as quickly as I can. My oxygen is in short supply, and soon I will suffocate if I don't find a planet with an adequate atmosphere to refill it. Speaking of supplies, I had to scrap half of my gear, including my radar, in order to get the parts necessary to repair my ship's hull after a near fatal encounter with space debris in the last star system. So without the aid of radar, I'm blindly flying to the closest system: the only system my remaining wisps of fuel would allow me to get to. I have no idea what awaits, but I'm hoping for a planet rich in oxygen, with friendly natives, and ample with the resources and fuel that I need to continue my journey.

In the deep space of Out There, luck, much like oxygen, is in short supply. I come out of my jump, just short of a black hole; a dead end. I don't have enough fuel for another jump, not that I have enough oxygen to live long enough to even attempt another jump. So, it looks like I won't be making it home.