I wander the other rooms. A large empty rooms, with hatches leading to what I can only assume to be space, and the other being a nuclear fission reactor powering this rusting hull. The thing that all of these rooms have in common is the severe lack of life. There's no visible or audible sign that someone has been here before. The rooms are dim, yes, but they're still relatively clean. The reactor seems old, really old. Even I know that fission reactors are a thing of the past, modern ship hulls use fusion reactors. How do I know that? Who am I? What the fuck? How did I just recall that thought? I don't even know who I am and yet I can recall that. I don't know how I got here and yet I can recall that. What the fuck just happened. What the fuck. What the fuck.
I need to focus. I need to breathe. I clamber to the computer room and do my best to get eyes on the outside of my ship hull. I execute some commands. I don't know how I know these commands. My hands do the work, whilst I myself can barely comprehend what I'm even doing. Before I know it, the ship is already en-route to a wreck. An ASCII illustration of the wreck is displayed on the terminal. I'm a fucking grave digger.