The Fog of Time: SCUL Day '19

For the 23rd time, brave SCUL pilots rode forth into the sodium light of time's misty roads in celebration of SCUL's emergence from the void. After RadMax christened their vexillologically exceptional new ship TRANSGALACTIC to cheers and much appreciation we launched into the night with spirits high and quickly arrived at the Central Luna for snax. With the darkness of the unknown lands south of the asteroid belt beckoning, we pushed on.

Gravity increased as we ventured further and further from the well traveled space lanes, challenging new and old pilots alike as the fleet wended its way deeper and deeper into the suddenly misty darkness that goes by many names. South-of-the-river, JP, or "oh-is-that-in-new-hampshire?".

Pilots felt a deep unease when the water fountain was found to be missing from its post near the nebula JP. Acehole, Vomit, and Fart Noises sprang into action, converting pilots' unease into pun-ease with the chalky outline of a brown-chicken-brown-cow. The fleet blazed forth, punnier and brighter than before, until we reached the gate.

As we entered the ancient Arboretum gate, our lights were dimmed and life support was quieted in remembrance of the times we've passed this way. Also because we had a brief mechanical. The quiet, darkened, fleet launched into hostile space on high alert. Then suddenly, ahead in the dark, we saw what we feared: Waves of light radiating from the helm of a Deep Control Run (DCR) intercepter. Luckily, the pilot waved us on our way with some bemused words, and we proceeded to our objective: THE HILLTOP WHERE TIME STANDS STILL!!

On arrival, many pilots were suddenly and joyfully without spacesuit, running and riding laps in the mist. We stayed awash in mist as hammocks were strung, food was laid out, and layers upon layers were worn for protection from the chill of space. Pastry Queen appeared from the mist with damaged lighting, navigation, and thruster.

We spent many cycles on that hilltop, held close in mist and comforted by the glow of ship plasma. The ghosts of the past and future walked with us and we heard tell of the "Deer Eye Land" radiation, ancient frequency jamming antics, inadvertent in-flight thruster appropriation, safety cone patches, and so much more. SCUL's history came alive as we talked and snacked, napped and shared, and stared out into the totally-not-a-metaphor mist. We pointed out the time capsule deep in its leafy slumber, then set off for home.

As we crossed the bridge in the fresh dawn light of SCUL's 24th orbital, the mist rose again and the wild ocean looked as if we could reach out and touch it. Fifteen tired pilots reached the landing pad, celebrated one last time, and disappeared into the dawn, soon to return.

HAPPY SCUL DAY! I LOVE MY GANG!

Link to Full, Unedited Pictures from Rocket
https://imgur.com/a/xGdIxGK