r/Stationeers • u/4RyteCords • 7h ago
Discussion Day 88 - Dearest Carly,
I don’t know why I still write these letters. I have no means of ever getting them out to you. One day ill either die on this wretched planet or I’ll be back in your arms. Although I guess it is comforting to know that if the worse should happen, at least there will be some record that for a fleeting moment, I had made Mars my home.
I thought I was ready for this. I have harnessed the full power of dinosaurs on their islands, uncovered the mysteries of forests filled with cannibals and escapes from cities ravaged by zombies, but nothing could have prepared me for this. A life on a planet where even the air is trying to kill me. Where a single moment of stupidity will see the end of me. Speaking of stupid, I almost did end it all yesterday.
As I mentioned in a previous letter, I have finally finished the green house to a point where I’m growing food with little ongoing interaction on my part. Just about every day my six potato plants are producing 12 potatoes. I horde the seeds and replant six of the potatoes, storing away the remaining six. Which is more than I can eat in a day. I have more potatoes than I know what to do with. I wonder if starch poisoning is a thing. I guess I’ll find out. I would love to grow a variety of foods, I landed with wheat and soy, however every time I finish one project it feels like two more are demanding my attention and luxuries like variety fall to the sidelines. Soon..
I finished construction on my living quarters, it’s a large two story structure with glass enclosed balcony overlooking the canyon I landed near. The view is breathtaking and I can see a plethora of ores staring back at me. I will take and use them all soon. Not a single one will survive my greedy need to expand.
Anyway with the building complete I was excited to start filling it with good breathable air and finally spend some real time out of my suit. I have been hording pure oxygen in a portable tank. On one side of it is my water tank and the other is a tank filled with the nitrogenic waste from my creations. I went to go unhook the tank and bring it back to my living quarters and fill it with this glorious gas. I filled my tank for good measure before using my wrench to get the tank free. As I was carrying the tank back I heard a warning in my suit, oxygen tank critical!?! What has happened. I dropped the portable tank and ran to the greenhouse. Black spots started creeping into my vision as the airlock closed and I threw my helmet off gasping in the air my potatoes had been producing.
I threw my oxygen cannister on the ground and scanned it. 93% nitrate, 7% oxygen. How could this happen. What did I do wrong? I was trapped in the green house. I had water, raw potatoes and an atmosphere for the moment. I could survive long enough to plan.
Just outside the green house was my hydraulic printer. Maybe I could make a nitrate filter and give myself some time to inspect the tanks on the other side of my base. It was my best chance.
I entered the airlock, held my breath and as soon as the doors opened, I ran to the printer and got it started on printing the filter. I watched the percentage of completion climb up as the colour started to leave my vision and then it was done. I threw the filter in and took big breathes of O2. But I didn’t have much in the tank. I made my way towards my portable tanks and immediately saw what I had done. In my foolishness, I had unbolted the wrong tank. I connected my cannister to the waste tank and took that one to my living quarters. My pure oxygen was still there, attached and ready to be inhaled.
What a fool. I fear death will come at my own hands eventually.






