The Garden Of Forking Drafts

I imagine the conversation was pretty straightforward. An ultimatum. I don't begrudge you your choice. It's the correct one. 

And then, perhaps, some simple instructions. Something like: No warnings. No clues. No goodbyes. Cut him loose. 

However it happened, it happened quickly. I felt my lifeline go slack, and I tumbled into the void. 

Fortunately, I am naturally pessimistic. In case something went wrong, I had packed a solar-sail, a portable de-aetherization still to make more oxygen, and tucked a multi-tool into my boot. 

I imagine you knew I'd be okay. 

Well, not okay, but that I'd survive. I'm not activating the distress beacon; that might give away your position. 

I always have a plan. Although I admit, this plan is pretty straightforward.

Stay alive, until you can find me.