Entry #010 - Defeat
15 Apr 2017Zinnsei
Commander's log, 15 APR, 3303They're gone. The logs, the crew, the ship... Napoleon.
A short recap is in order, I assume. About a month ago, we set out for the Core. It was a spur of the moment thing and before we knew it, we were more than halfway there. We explored the neutron stars, the black holes and the vistas along the way. We even tested out the new camera suite and made some nice shots. They are all I have left, since they were on my personal device when it happened.
We had reached the core. I had stared into that abyss that is the yawning mouth of Sagittarius A*. I tell you, you don't come back from that unchanged. It is simply impossible to see that wonder and continue being the same person. We even went to Source 2 and refueled the tanks and then back to the awesome gape of Sag. A.
That's when it happened.
I was on the observation deck, when we came too close to the Body Exclusion Zone. The alarms and klaxons started blaring and while I was running towards the bridge, I heard Napoleon over the comms.
Get out, Commander. Get to the pods!
I heard the hull buckle under the stress of the hungry behemoth and heard the engines give way. The explosions tore through the ship, as the event horizon drew us in. Napoleon pleaded once again over the intercom and I faced the horrible truth: We were going to lose her. The Zenith was already gone.
I sprinted to the escape pods and jumped into one of the last few remaining on the port side. As the doors sealed and the hyperdrive engine started to whine, I saw Napoleon. He was still on board the Zenith As the last locks clicked into place and the escape pod let go of the mothership, I saw him raise his hand in a salute. Then the pod was jettinsoned out into the void and away from the crumbling ship.
The last thing I saw, before the drive launched us back towards Jaques Station, was the Zenith, a stunning profile against the epic world eater. Explosions tore though her and lit her up like small, blinking Christmas lights. As witch space closed around us, I saw her reactor blow.
I still bear some hope in my heart, that Napoleon is still alive, out there. Maybe he managed to get out. Maybe he survived by way of one of the fighters. Maybe we will meet again, one day.
I do not believe this. Nothing survives that kind of destruction.
We've been back at Jaques for about a week now. The Pilot's Federation has helped me repurchase a new Cutter, as close to the original as possible. The few surviving crew members have agreed to stay on for the rest of our trek, but we have had to engage a lot of new souls. I've also taken on a fairly unskilled young pilot by the name of Lenard Bradshaw. He used to do fighter runs in the navy but has found himself down on his luck and most of all bored. When he heard of our misfortune, he was quick to apply. He is no Napoleon, a friend like that does not come easily, but he is dedicated and adventurous.
All this misery and not even the scans remain. I have nothing to show for our efforts than a few pictures and a transcription of "The Core" visitor's beacon.
I tell myself that we must return to the core, to pay our respects to the lost souls of our crew - and to Napoleon - but the crew is discouraged and disheartened. They want to go home.
I will have to think about this.
Oh. I almost forgot. In honor of the tragedy, I have named our new vessel "Zemt Quinta Essentia. It means "The Zenith of Quintessence" in old Earth Latin. She will forever be a reminder and a memorial to the people, who lost their lives at the very center of this galaxy. They are one with the void, and we all dance around them, forever and ever.
CMDR Zinnsei, out.