Formidine ***TRANSMISSION ERROR*** 007
18 Jun 2016Alexia Zyxx
***TRANSMISSION ERROR******DATA RECOVERY INITIATED***
...paranoid, but something is messing with our systems. Minerva is encountering a multitude of minor errors -- lights flickering, altitude alarms firing in deep space, data encryption errors. Just this morning the auto-cycler on our oxygen scrubbers stuck and had to be manually reset. There is no reason for these system failures -- Minerva is a young ship, and we completely stripped and rebuilt her from the inside out before this journey -- engineering has since made a multitude of diagnostic checks and found nothing amiss. All systems remain operating above 85% capacity, and the manufacturer's specs insist that random failures and errors will only occur once we are below the 60% threshhold.
Those superstitious among the crew blame the Rift. I'm not sure I disagree with them. Scouting out here on the far edge of the Formidine Rift, we are incredibly alone. The feeling of isolation is tangible - an oppressive block at the back of your mind serving as a reminder that, should something terrible happen, there will be no assistance. And to start encountering these system malfunctions only once we arrive to the Rift feels more than coincidental...
As an effort to clear up our system errors, and maybe soothe the crews' fears, we departed from the edge of the Rift some days ago. We now sit at the far rim of the galaxy, cautiously orbiting a black hole system on the far side of the New Outer Arm while we determine our next course of action. A number of options present themselves -- the most obvious path being...
***CORRUPTED DATA EXPUNGED***
***LOG ENTRY DATE LOST***
***MERGE WITH NEXT KNOWN ENTRY***
***DATA RECOVERY INITIATED***
It's so cold. We've delayed here. Spent the last few days in the same system. Fixing Minerva. Most of the ship's malfunctions are cleared up, but the cabin climate control is still haywire, and it's so damned cold in here.
We received a hyperspace comms transmission; an emergency broadcast from the Children of Raxxla. Something in the Formidine Rift's got them spooked. They're setting up armed patrols at the Rift's edge, based out of two listening posts straddling the Reorte/Reidquat line out in the Wayfarer's Graveyard. Sounds like they're going to be watching and monitoring a four kylie stretch of space for any unusual activity -- no easy task. Whatever they've got wind of, they're taking it seriously.
I need another blanket.
A note about hyperspace communications -- to send a message of this nature is...expensive. Mindbogglingly so. Each bit of data needs to be packaged separately, encoded, accelerated, and broadcast out to its intended target using incredibly specialized and intricate relays. One message to an explorer seventeen thousand light years out, like ourselves, would cost almost as much as the Minerva herself. This message was sent to every known explorer in the 2nd Quadrant. They are taking this incredibly seriously.
Our course from here is clear. I've spent the last few hours with CNO McAlister, plotting our course over hot coffee. We head back to the Rift and cleave straight through; we're unarmed, defenseless, and hopefully can evade any potential threat with our frameshift capabilities. We'll beeline to the Listening Post Beta and rendezvous with the Children of Raxxla to hopefully secure an escort back to the local bubble, where we can find engineers to modify and refit Minerva.
Home. We're heading home.
CMDR Alexia Zyxx
PFS Minerva
Signing off.