ENTRY 004
SURVIVAL LOG
BEGIN DICTATION:
I found my ship this morning, more than a mile away in a small valley surrounded by steep hills that would have been tough going without my jetpack. The exosuit repair subroutine walked me through fixes to my scanner and analyzer (thank the Maker - I would be bereft without them!), which helped me track the ship's homing beacon. The repair program must have included some upgrades, because the equipment was rendering much more sophisticated information than I'm used to, but the enhancement was most welcome.
It was a tough slog through this world's damnable corrosive rain and rugged terrain, but I hardly noticed that because I was so preoccupied with the peculiarities my scanner was finding. And I don't mean unique alien plant or animal life, either, although there was plenty of that.
As anyone with even a passing knowledge of xenobiology knows, there are several geological, environmental and evolutionary constants that spread across our Euclid galaxy and that account for similarities on many worlds.
For instance, there is a genus of bright yellow flowering plants found in virtually every star system (with minor differences of root, stem and leaf structure) that all yield zinc when processed down. I found several stands of these flowers (or so I thought) while chasing down my ship this morning - and found they are wildly different than anything in my experience. While their appearance is similar to what I'm used to, their cellular makeup is completely different - and when they are processed, they yield sodium, not zinc.
And this is not an isolated case. There are red flowering plants here that, everywhere else I know of, yield Thamium 9 when rendered down. Here? Oxygen. Oddly, my exosuit hazard protection and life support systems made use of both with no difficulties.
So now, as I follow my starship's self-repair subroutines, I'm again wondering: have I somehow been cast into an anomalous section of our own Euclid Galaxy? Or did the phenomenon I experienced yesterday somehow shuffle me into another dimension -- a multiverse version of Euclid that's similar in some respects, but different in others?
I can't afford woolgathering here. So, Ana, forgive me if I drop the personal tone to these logs. I feel the need to create a professional record of this journey and my fight to survive. Please know that I love you and our life together and I am doing everything I can to get back.
For now, though, I need to get the ship operational so I can start figuring where I am and how to get home. If home, as I knew it, even exists anymore.
No time for that. The ship is a mess: all of the drives are damaged and without fuel, so my task is enormous. Back to work.
END DICTATION

My ship - a smoking, sparking mess. My task now is to get her air- and space-worthy.