This isn’t a playground! Space is a witch’s heart. It's cold, unforgiving, and murderous. Get that through your head. Space is miles and miles of nothing, a vacuum, an empty place devoid of life that doesn't suffer fools. Unprepared? Plan poorly? Run out of food, or oxygen, or fuel … wind up on the drift, and you’ll quickly discover just how heartless outer space can be. The solitude, if unchecked, can drive a man mad. Yet it has its allure. I see that. Like sirens calling with a thousand sweet voices, it lures men to wreck their ships on the rocks. The stars beckon with promises of adventure and excitement. It's the biggest 'nothing' ambitious men want. They lay claim to this portion and that, fight over it, and (win, lose, or draw) count it worth any price they've paid. Fools! Fools, everyone of 'em. My son, don’t forget where you are. Daughter, one split second of indecision will make space your last battleground. If you blink, space will turn on you just that quick. Truly, it will be your game ender.