I had that dream again. Alone in a ruined mech, oxygen system fine, just alone for months and months, via my electro-optical I see the flashes of the rescue doing transfer orbits and adjustments and do thousands of mathematical equations to calculate bit-by-bit their approach.
I know the planet’s gravity, I know the moon’s gravity, I calculate my orbital speed and I work out their specific impulse to save me even though I cannot contact them. I do it for myself, I rock back and forth and enact elaborate plays for time unending in the steel-self.
They get close enough to blast a signaling laser to communicate with me and I am struck by the most horrific agoraphobia. I had become used to the cockpit and they were going to crack me open like an oyster and pluck me, like a pearl. I howl with no way to refuse until I explosively bolt awake.