Shuttlepod Logs

Personal log, Lieutenant John Kearney, Starship Atlantis, Supplemental.

The Romulan bird-of-prey crashed before her crew could enable the self-destruct mechanism. A cheer went up among the men in the torpedo bay as huge sections of the enemy vessel burned up in the atmosphere. I don’t blame the crew for cheering death. We spent weeks playing a deadly game of cat-and-mouse through a nearby asteroid field until we finally got the jump on them in this uncharted star system.

Scans of the planet revealed that whole segments of the hull went down intact and were strewn across a debris field over 100 kilometers long. Captain Suarez  sent us to the planet surface to salvage the wreckage for technology that might help the war effort.

Personal log, Lieutenant John Kearney, Supplemental. After a thorough investigation of the Romulan vessel we found no salvageable technology. As we returned to our shuttle, the ground began to quake and one of the distant volcanoes, which we had earlier thought dormant, erupted. Its ash quickly blocked out the sun. We found our shuttle on its side, thrusters damaged. We retreated inside to transmit our report to the Atlantis crew and request immediate assistance, but received no answer. We have spent the night holed up here, battered by violent weather, eruptions, and more quakes. None of us have slept. Though at least the night righted the shuttle.

From what we can surmise, the Atlantis has disappeared. If she had to break orbit, the captain would have found a way to let us know. Has she been destroyed by another Romulan bird-of-prey in a surprise attack, stranding us here? Ensign Bowman thinks he can repair the shuttle’s thrusters, and that we should return to orbit in hopes of finding answers.

Personal log, Lieutenant John Kearney, Supplemental.

Ensign Bowman is dead. He worked through the night on the thrusters. We found him outside in the grey morning, covered in a strange blueish moss, which seemed to be eating him alive. There was nothing we could do to save him.

The shuttlepod can’t leave the planet surface, even if we could repair the thrusters. The moss has infiltrated the engine exhaust ports and drained the power system. It must feed on energy. We are putting the shuttle in low-power mode and setting an emergency distress beacon in hopes of rescue. Using gloves from our EVA suits, Ensign Crane and I will be taking shifts clearing the moss from the door. The ground continues to quake daily.

Personal log, Lieutenant John Kearney, Supplemental.

Two weeks and the moss regrows each day, almost as fast as it can be cleared. Even rationing, our supplies are nearly gone. We will hold out as long as we can. The weather grows cold. Except for the moss, it seems all other plant life is dying.

Personal log, Lieutenant John Kearney, Supplemental.

There was an accident. Crane cut his arm while hunting the single-eyed rodent-like animals we have been subsisting on. The moss must have gotten in the wound. It ate him from the inside out, like a flesh-eating bacterial disease. This will be my last entry. No one is coming. I am alone here now.

 

Shuttlepod Logs

Star Trek Adventures MarcoRafala MarcoRafala