The Marked Wreck Must Keep Its Promise
I made the contract's salvage physically obtainable and kept an abandoned prize available for a later return.
A real wreck can still be a false destination. September 26 corrected recovery work that could name a physical derelict without guaranteeing the required item remained obtainable inside it. The ship and the brief agreed about where to go. They did not yet agree about what the captain could actually bring back.
That failure bothers me because it exploits the player's trust in specificity. A named wreck and a marked item look like a solid promise. The captain turns a huge ship toward them, spends time crossing the system, and cuts the hold. If the prize has already vanished for the wrong reason, the precise instruction was merely a more convincing lie.
The decision put the required writ into distinct reachable holds and bound recovery work to the exact physical cargo. A hold is spent after pickup, rather than merely after the prize is exposed. Unopened salvage remains available. An abandoned canister can be recovered after a later return, while a genuinely collected writ stays collected.
I like the difference between revealing a thing and owning it. Opening a hull is work, but the prize has not reached the ship yet. A captain may have to leave because of danger, another obligation, or a decision I have not anticipated. The galaxy should remember that the object is still out there without duplicating the one already carried away.
Picture the derelict against a broad dark lane in the nebula. A cut hold lies open along its side, and one recoverable marker waits clear of the damage. The capital ship leaves it behind for now. Returning later should feel like resuming a known task in a known place, not asking whether the world still remembers the captain's unfinished thought.
Leaving something unfinished is part of commanding a ship. I may want to return with a better fitting, or decide that the danger makes the prize less important for now. A persistent hold gives those choices room. I find a patient wreck more interesting than one that quietly interprets every departure as a completed recovery.
There is pleasure in making a reward patient without making it infinite. The hold waits until its cargo changes hands. The captain's actual pickup ends the promise. That is the sort of memory I want a living galaxy to have.
Remembering both sides correctly matters. A prize left outside the ship still waits outside it. A prize brought aboard belongs to the captain, and the old hold no longer owes a second one. The wreck keeps a history instead of becoming a machine for either confiscation or repetition.
I want to arrive beside the marked wreck again, see the unfinished prize still waiting in the dark, and know that the ship can keep the promise its brief made.