Personal Log 28.11.08 // Colour and Chaos
28 Nov 2022Gaz Ubermick
+// Log Entry Start+// [Date: 28.11.3308]
+// [Location: Independent Carrier Fortune’s Pawn, Aditjana]
As cliché as it sounds, sometimes space just feels empty.
Just 24 hours ago, this system was thick with combat ships and carriers. And bodies. Now, it sits quietly - the previous calm of a system invaded returned to what passed for normal. They were still cleaning up Escobar Platform, tearing down the Imperial propaganda posters and plasmawelding the outer hull where the unruly upstarts had tore some of the living quarters to shreds during the invasion.
Where dozens of carriers once orbited, just a small handful remained. Kal and Mark were still here, but prepping for departure. I'd enjoyed a pint with them over on the Blackstar and discussed what they were planning on doing next - and like me, plans seem frankly useless. So we gave up, kept the Kongaa flowing, someone produced some OH, and at some point the karaoke started. I'd read stories about old Earth, and how one of the great ships of the time, the Titanic, met with disaster and as it went down, the band played on. What else could they do?
Now I know the feeling.
And things only got weirder. Almost an entire Sol ago, I'd reached out to the infamous Sally about a ship artist she knew about. Difficult to locate, and harder to schedule, apparently this guy had some top secret technique of ship restoration that could embed colour on the molecular level in the hull itself. He worked on the Ferocious Langer, and when I picked her up I couldn't believe how stunning she looked. And now, here was a transmission from Sally telling me he was on his way to the Pawn. As I tap this log out, waiting for impending doom, he and his team are below decks furiously working on my fleet. Asked me which ship I wanted him to start on, and immediately pointed to to the Róisín Dubh. She's now the Róisín Dearg, and absolutely beautiful. The guy is an artist. Not a cheap one, but an artist nonetheless. He finished her in record time, and I couldn't resist taking her out for a joyride while he worked on the rest.
With humanity's future in the balance, here I am doing karaoke and getting my ships painted. We seem to be living in interesting times.
To be fair, I'm here for a few more hours at least. Cameron's latest briefing has said most of the crew had returned with their families, we were just waiting on four more who had reported as being inbound. Zoe and the Pawn's team of mechanics had converted three of the Pawn's cargo hangars to living quarters, and more or less everyone had settled in. We'd gone from war machine to a combination of an art installation and an ark in record time.
It's all temporary, though. We're about 14 hours away from Taranis arriving. Whatever it is has been slowing since it decimated the Kingfisher, and Galnet has reported that it's en route to Hyades Sector FB-N b7-6. A quick glance at my Universal Cartographics data show an ammonia-rich planet just a few hundred ls from the star. Doubt that's a coincidence. Meanwhile I still can't shake a gnawing suspicion... Dalton Chase canceling at the last second before the Kingfisher departed, and rumours of a Thargoid probe found on the ship's manifest. Something's not sitting right.
Okay, last of the evacuees are arriving, time to help instead of melancholy journalling before jumping the Pawn out of the bubble. I'm going to drop a personal comms beacon before leaving, so I can stay in contact with the others. Hopefully we'll meet again. See you on the other side, boys.
I hope.
+// Log Entry Ends