Botan was in a deeply contemplative state of mind. Spending hours upon hours as the only little dot of warmth in about a light-years radius with the only thing keeping him alive also being the thing that kept him awake. Cycling through his small pile of O^2 packs that he had knit in a chain and attached to his belt was a necessary effort, moral dilemma aside, he was just happy to be alive for now.
That daft little princess ship, he had cleaned her bathrooms, brushed her corridors, and generally taken the shit away after it had hit the fan. Sometimes the bloody thing even asked him to sing her a good nighty. And now this treacherous cow of a ship left him Him! Here to cook on the float. And she even had the audacity to have her brute of a cargo bot Stamp some sort of sheet over his visor and shove a personal locator beacon into his arms, thankfully, and of they went. Big light spectacle and bye-bye.
The PLB came with solar panel flaps and a magnetically bound rotible Ball that gave the whole contraption bit of a weird insect like look, wings to the side, spinning ball in the middle. The concept of it was ridiculously spartan. You were supposed to get the PLB to line up with the local sun and hide in its shadow. It allowed you to freely speed up or slow down the ball inside it via four big and Spacesuit friendly buttons with arrows on it and use it to adjust, in the intended use case, a shuttle massed object's rotational velocity without expanding fuel. It didn't have any thrusters but in a small side compartment it had stored away a tiny CO^2 scrubber and a water filtration unit as well as a 60-day ration pack of Sgt. Sniggers Waste'o'nutri premium mould flavour which were coveted to the point of bedside murder between couples. Good Stuff. But would it alleviate the boredom to come? No, but it will help.
However, lining up the PLB and adjusting the spin proved to be a rather difficult challenge that Botan couldn't quite find the motivation to solve and settled for a spin instead of a stable position in the PLB's shadow. It wasn't like this puny little red dwarf star put out much radiation anyway. What he cared more about was food. Premium mould flavour it said. But to actually eat would only be possible if he opened his visor to cold space, flung the snack into his helmet and then close the visor up again. If for any reason this process encountered complications he could suffer serious injury by decompression and or death by asphyxiation. But the temptation grew and hunger would eventually become reason enough to try it. He left it at that and turned his attention to the PLB'S com-unit. He activated the base distress call by hitting the interface twice with enough force to hurt his gloved hands a little, but it worked. Now it was time to wait and survive long enough for something to him and pick him up.
He fell asleep.