Surviving the Milky Way: An Elite Dangerous Survival Diary – Day 4: Pirates, Powerplay, and Pointless Terminals

Day 4 – Pirates, Powerplay, and Pointless Terminals

Playstyle: Courier–Bounty Hybrid (very heavy on the “hybrid”)
Optional Features: Unplanned NPC babysitting, mild existential dread

“These are the voyages of Commander Incognito aboard the Rustbucket: to dodge charity collectors, fail gracefully at space combat, and boldly lean on NPCs where no pride has survived before.”

Ramaswamy Point greeted me with the kind of smile you see on a fundraiser who’s already holding your wallet. Donation missions everywhere. Worthy causes, sure—if your definition of “worthy” includes me being broke. I decided to invest my credits in something more sustainable: self-preservation and very questionable career choices.

Mission Board Math: Credits Out vs. Hull Intact

After declining the interstellar charity gala, I grabbed two bounties that looked doable (or at least survivable): Emily Santopietro lurking in Col 285 Sector GJ-I a39-0, and a flamboyantly named menace called The Universal Alchemist in HR 7674. The order was obvious: Emily first. Why? Because between me and the Alchemist was a moon, and contrary to popular belief, I can’t Frame Shift through solid rock. Goals are good; physics is better.

Target #1: Emily Santopietro (Featuring: My Aim)

I dropped into the instance with the confidence of a pilot who’s watched several tutorials but retained none of the important bits. Pulse lasers primed, target locked, heroic music in my head—then reality. If I landed a single shot, it must have been by accident. Thankfully, the galaxy delivered: a few NPC bounty hunters showed up and treated Emily like an overdue library book. I contributed… moral support. And evasive maneuvers. Mostly evasive maneuvers.

Result: Emily down. My pride? Also down, but technically not on the mission summary screen, so we’re calling it a win.

Target #2: The Universal Alchemist (and the Loosely Organized Lunatics)

Next up: the Alchemist, a local headache apparently on the radar of an outfit calling themselves the Loosely Organized Lunatics. They asked me to “deal with him,” which feels like strong wording for someone who just discovered their own safety is optional. Still, I accepted and engaged.

Combat went much like the last one—lasers buzzing, shields whining, me squinting at the reticle like it owed me money. Once again, NPCs took the hint and piled in. Team effort! Where “team” is doing a lot of heavy lifting and I’m mostly yelling “pew pew” in the background. Nevertheless: bounty complete, hull intact, dignity negotiable.

Back to Ramaswamy Point: Rewards Claimed, Dreams Denied

I returned to Ramaswamy Point, strutted into the Contacts office like I alone had saved civilized space, and cashed out both bounties. Then I did the sensible thing: straight to Outfitting to improve my “combat performance,” which is a generous phrase for “I would like my lasers to hit things now.”

Outfitting, however, had the vibe of a pawn shop at closing time. No better pulse lasers. No real upgrades worth selling my soul for. The Rustbucket remained exactly that: rusty, bucket-shaped, and underarmed.

Courier Hop to HR 7674 (A Detour Into Powerplay)

Spotting a courier contract to HR 7674, I took it and set course for Tenn Terminal, hoping their stock list wasn’t just “no.” En route, the nav panel dangled a shiny new concept: Powerplay, where twelve galactic powers offer perks in exchange for loyalty and a suspicious amount of paperwork. Interesting, but I’m still figuring out how to keep my nose pointed at the enemy. Filing under: research later, pledge never (for now).

Tenn Terminal: Nothing to See Here, Keep Moving

I delivered the courier package, collected the pay, and jogged over to Outfitting like a kid on Life Day. The shelves? Empty of anything useful. Not a single upgrade I needed. Not even a pity laser. Apparently, HR 7674 believes in character growth via disappointment.

The mission board was heavy on bounties, which would’ve been poetic if I hadn’t just proven my lasers are purely ornamental. I parked the Rustbucket, powered down, and promised myself tomorrow would be more… accurate.

Ship Log: Rustbucket Status & Notes

  • Combat reality check: Pulse lasers feel like sternly worded emails. Consider gimballed weapons or multis when I find a station that isn’t allergic to upgrades.
  • Allies matter: NPC bounty hunters are my current business model. Must not rely on this forever (or at least learn to pretend I don’t).
  • Route planning: “There’s a moon in the way” is a valid operational constraint. Add to checklist: confirm approach vector before heroic declarations.
  • Powerplay: Interesting benefits, but I should actually win a 1v1 before choosing a galactic overlord.

Lessons Learned (So I Stop Re-Learning Them)

  • Target practice is not optional: Practice in a Resource Extraction Site (Low) or a training scenario before accepting anything with the word “notorious” in it.
  • Shields save lives: If I can’t upgrade guns yet, upgrade survival: boosters, better shield generator, maybe a hull reinforcement or two.
  • Stations aren’t equal: When looking for gear, prioritize High Tech / Large starports. “We sell dreams” is code for “we sell nothing you need.”

Continue the Journey

Elite Dangerous Hub |
Day 1 |
Day 2 |
Day 3 |
Day 4 (You Are Here) |
Day 5

New Survival Series Begin: Alien Isolation & Elite Dangerous

Two New Survival Journeys Begin This Week

“Because one disaster at a time just isn’t enough.”

This week, two fresh series are launching across the hubs:

Both kick off this week. Keep an eye on the hubs — and as always, expect chaos.

Day 1 Diary – No Man’s Sky – A Freezing Planet, Angry Plants & A Forgotten Ship

Because apparently, space is just as chaotic as survival on Earth.

I wake up to the cold void of Zuwan 58/E6

It’s -54.8°C and my thermal protection is already falling apart. I’m standing on an unfamiliar world, surrounded by snow, rocks, and the kind of silence that suggests no one’s coming to help. The scanner is offline, and the only way to fix it is by gathering ferrite dust.

Cue 30 seconds of frantic mining laser use. It feels like hours. Rocks explode. The scanner gets patched up. Victory—briefly.


Sodium, sabotage, and a slap from nature

With the scanner online, I locate some sodium-rich plants glowing yellow in the distance. I sprint over like they’re the last snacks at the end of the world. Just as I reach one, a hostile plant lashes out and takes a bite out of me. Rude.

I grab the sodium anyway, recharge my thermal protection, and make a mental note: not everything green is friendly.

Then a new signal appears—500 units away.


The Radiant Pillar and the repair list from hell

The signal leads to a crashed starship: the Radiant Pillar BC1. The ship’s still mostly intact, but running a diagnostic reveals both the launch thrusters and pulse engine are out of commission. Typical.

Luckily, I already have enough ferrite dust to patch together some metal plating and get started. Then the distress beacon hands me a planetary chart that points toward a hermetic seal—only 900 units away. I head off to get it.

Halfway there, the planet unleashes a blizzard. The temperature drops to -97.3°C. I barely make it to the building in time, where I warm up, collect the hermetic seal, and take a much-needed moment to question my life choices.


Navigation error: user

With the seal in hand, I’m ready to head back… if only I remembered where I left the ship.

The scanner’s broken again. This time it needs carbon. So I laser some nearby plants—none of which try to bite me, thankfully—and repair the scanner. The ship’s marker reappears and I make my way back, scanning every rock and shrub along the way like a distracted tourist with a scanner addiction.


The great resource hunt and escape

Back at the ship, I finish the pulse engine repair. The thrusters need pure ferrite, which means crafting a portable refiner. That requires dihydrogen and oxygen—time for another impromptu gathering mission.

Once the refiner is placed, I process the ferrite dust into pure ferrite, patch up the launch thrusters, and climb into the cockpit.

Moments later, I leave Zuwan 58/E6 behind. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m not freezing anymore. Probably.


Day 1 complete

Status: Launched
Planet: Hostile
Ship: Mostly duct tape
Next Goal: Figure out how not to die in space


If you enjoyed this one, why not check out my other Day One Diaries

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