"….. It is now the darkest and coldest segment of our journey, we are now exactly positioned between two stars, I look out the small vision panel, there's nothing but darkness across the fuselage, the universe never so much clearer in the distance, but very daring to look at. The Old Man lies steady in his cryo, but his condition unfortunately has worsen, his blood tests continue to show signs of further internal spread, there are more infections. I'm afraid I may even run out of antibiotics before the rendezvous, at times, I've had to carefully clean off the infected skin around his catheters, carefully, without waking him, if he did wake up, he would not withstand it, it is simply too cold inside this tin can, it's too lonely, I've already played far too many "Solitaires"….. By the time the Old Man wakes up, I'm afraid I won't be able to tell him "Good morning", for I won't have any good news for him. I still can't comprehend how he could have put so much at risk… after achieving so much in his life.. and for what? .. for a marine in a wheelchair?.. I can still vividly remember the day we left home nearly three years ago…. he was convinced he would never see it again as he stared at it 50 miles below…reality is that, there probably wasn't much that could have saved him anyway…I guess he felt he didn't have much to lose after all…I can only hope his decision was worthwhile, and that at the end…...he finds what he was looking for….". end of log.