Log Entry 4: 3307-08-19
30 Jul 2024Costacor666
Log Entry 4: 3307-08-19I awoke to the low hum of the ship's alarms, a constant reminder of the dangers lurking in deep space. My head felt heavy, the result of a restless night filled with fragmented dreams of Thargoid attacks. Reaching for my communicator, it took a moment to get my bearings. The other side of the bed was empty, a stark contrast to the bustling life aboard the ship.
“Commander, you’re needed on the bridge,” came the voice of my second-in-command, Akio. His tone was calm, but I could sense the underlying tension.
“I’m on my way,” I replied, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The floor felt cold beneath my feet, a jarring reminder that this wasn’t the comfort of home, but the harsh reality of our existence on the Diamondback Explorer.
Making my way through the narrow corridors, I passed crew members who gave me nods of acknowledgment, their faces etched with the same weariness I felt. The ship’s interior was dimly lit, the result of conserving power for our upcoming encounter.
As I entered the bridge, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. The crew was busy, their eyes glued to their screens, monitoring the surroundings for any signs of Thargoid activity.
“Report,” I commanded, taking my place at the helm.
“We’ve picked up a distress signal from a nearby system. It matches the pattern of previous Thargoid attacks,” Akio informed me, his eyes reflecting the green glow of his console.
“Set a course. We need to investigate,” I ordered, my mind already racing through possible scenarios. The Thargoids were relentless, their attacks becoming more frequent and ferocious.
The jump to the targeted system was brief, but the tension on the bridge was palpable. As we dropped out of hyperspace, the sight that greeted us was haunting. A massive wreckage of a Federal Corvette floated lifelessly, its hull scarred by Thargoid weaponry. The eerie silence was broken only by the occasional flicker of failing lights.
“Scan the area for survivors,” I instructed. The thought of what we might find sent chills down my spine.
The scanner beeped, indicating a faint life sign within the wreckage. “Prepare a boarding party,” I ordered, feeling the weight of responsibility heavy on my shoulders.
Boarding the derelict ship, the air was thick with the smell of burnt metal and ozone. The corridors were eerily silent, save for the distant creaking of the ship’s structure. As we made our way through the twisted remains, the full extent of the horror became apparent. Bodies of the crew lay scattered, their faces frozen in expressions of terror.
We found the survivor huddled in a corner, a young ensign barely clinging to life. “Get him to the medbay,” I commanded, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
Returning to the Diamondback Explorer, I couldn’t shake the images from my mind. The Thargoid threat was more than just a physical danger; it was a psychological one, chipping away at our resolve with each encounter.
As I sat in my quarters, the reality of our situation weighed heavily. The Thargoid war was not just a battle for survival, but a battle for our sanity. Each day brought new horrors, new challenges, and the constant reminder that in the vastness of space, we were never truly safe.
The communicator buzzed again, a signal from the Coterie. It was time to discuss our next move, to strategize and prepare for the battles to come. But for now, I took a moment to breathe, to steady myself for the fight ahead. The Thargoids were relentless, but so were we.