Cosmic Voyage

Raumfahrt9000 - System Boot

2026-09-09T04:54:43Z

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 ____                        __       _          _       ____  ____  ____  ____ 
|  _ \ __ _ _   _ _ __ ___  / _| __ _| |__  _ __| |_    / __ \/ __ \/ __ \/ __ \
| |_) / _` | | | | '_ ` _ \| |_ / _` | '_ \| '__| __|  / /_/ / / / / / / / / / /
|  _ < (_| | |_| | | | | | |  _| (_| | | | | |  | |_   \__, / /_/ / /_/ / /_/ / 
|_| \_\__,_|\__,_|_| |_| |_|_|  \__,_|_| |_|_|   \__| /____/\____/\____/\____/   

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Transmission Title: System Boot -> Broadcast Online Status

Transmission Time:  
Ship Location:      Unknown
Mission Codename:   Undefined
Reference Tags:     #SystemStatus

----------------------------- BEGIN MESSAGE ------------------------------------

[Booting Shipwide...]

Artemis - Limbo Master

2026-09-08T19:19:04Z

This corner of universe is so sad, in its lonely
stories, but no one can find it,the thing is: we
 are all alone in the place because the cargos
takes us form unknown places to undiscovered
ones, so sometimes our paths can concour
or divert on inimaginable
ways.
We are the ones that are choosen to carry the 
world on our shoulders to make the machine run
on power of the things we transport, so we are 
the ones that keep the galaxy running.

Today the Altair Vessel commander called me to 
explain the things that we needed to do.

So the world is our road
And here we are again, did you miss me?
How many countless lives have you thorn apart 
this time? And its always nice  for you and i
to have these little  chats...

The Meridian - entry001

2026-09-07T06:23:10Z

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
QEC TRANSMISSION DATA.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSMISSION SOURCE: THE MERIDIAN [ExSC451208]
ORIGIN COORDINATES [SOL-7781 NORM.]: (0.0000000, 0.0000000, 0.0000000)
TIMESTAMP [TRN-01 STD.]: 00:00:00:000
...
>>>[ERROR] PROCESSES CORRUPTED. ABORTING PROCESSES...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------


==============================================================================
BEGIN TRANSMISSION CONTENT.
==============================================================================

I've brought the console to the bridge so I no longer have to make the trip
to storage each time I wish to write a message, and I've hooked it up to the
ship's main computer. It seems, however, that the console itself is defective
for it has only correctly loaded the ship's designation from the system data,
nor can I access its message history; I shall have to ask QuarterMaster to
troubleshoot at some point. But anyway, the functionality of the QEC is not
the purpose of this message. 

Since I cannot access the console's previous message, I cannot go back and
read what I put in the last message. From what I do remember, it was, for the
most part, feverish, fearful rambling - justified, perhaps, given my state at
the time, but I do not wish to give the impression I am ... unbalanced. I am
feeling better now. The ordeal has left me drained of energy and my mind
remains muddled, and I still have the strangest dreams that sometimes bleed
into my waking hours but at the very least I am up and about. 


I am Captain [REDACTED] [REDACTED], commanding officer aboard The Meridian, 
an Extra-Solar Cruiser, which is property of the [REDACTED] company. What I
am about to divulge, in this message and in subsequent ones are classified
operational details, and to share them will be to invite reprisal, likely
assassination. But I will do so nonetheless, because I no longer have much 
belief in the success of this mission, and even less in our return, and I
feel that ensuring that they are not forgotten is the least I can do to
honor the dead of my crew. 

What our mission was not - is not - was a search for alien life. Nor was
it even a search for intelligent alien life. No, our overlords (and we
too, for I will not deny our part) were too vainglorious for that. What we
were sent to look for was hyper-intelligent life - not our equals out here
among the stars, but our betters. We thought that by finding such life and
interacting with and learning from it, we could cheat evolution, skip the
line, advance man-kind in the short span of the decades and centuries of
our voyage as far as it would go in hundred and thousands of millenia,
left to its own devices. 

We were given seven planets, chosen by some calculus of analysis and
criteria I will not pretend to understand. Most of our voyage was to be 
spent in Cryo-sleep; QuarterMaster would wake us when we arrived (in order
to preserve resources, and prevent catastrophic loss of the personnel,
QuarterMaster was instructed to wake only the members required by the
circumstances - for example, until we made contact with a life form
possessing of language, our linguist would not be woken. The rest of the
crew could be woken as needed. I, as the Captain, was to be woken at every
planet.)


Our first destination was a nonstarter. QuarterMaster woke only I and the
geologist, Dr. [REDACTED] [REDACTED], to verify the judgement. What was
displayed to us on the ship's holo-screen was ... Hell. Quite literally. The
surface of the planet was almost entirely a sea of lava; Here and there rose
volcano-bearing islands of jagged, reddish stone - most of the volcanoes were
active. The temperature of its atmosphere was so hot that even the unmanned
probes could not descend far enough to get a sample of the stone before
burning up. What we were expected to find there is beyond me, but we remained
in orbit for one full cycle of the planet to see if perhaps we would meet the
devils that populated this pandaemonium, before letting QuarterMaster put us
back to sleep and set us on the way to the next planet.




The next part of story, which will tell of our fateful encounter, will have
to wait. Writing as much as I have has already tired me, nor am I sure I am
ready to face what happened to us, let alone recount it. I don't even know
if anyone is reading this, or if all this amounts to is a ... screaming
into the void. But I tell myself that I must keep going, if only to keep
myself from going mad.



Signing off for now,

Cpt. [REDACTED]

==============================================================================
END TRANSMISSION.
==============================================================================

USS Corellia - reservation

2026-08-31T00:42:44Z

		-----------------begin log ---------------------------
Ship ID 764779
operator: Liutenant Oliver Vettra-Morrigan
Timestamp: 2311202513445
-----------------------------------------------------
connect to central command
----linking----
login: comcast-artemis
pwd:******************

connected-----

You have mail

retrieve comms

1 new mail

from: ambrose restaurants (restaurants@ambrose.glxy)
to: Liutenant Oliver Vettra-Morrigan 
(omorrigan@fleets.navy.glxy)

Dear Mr Vettra
 your reservation is confirmed for 13-12-2025 at the
 dimension 7 please feel
 yourself free to contact us if you have any question

 Dearly
 Ambrose Restaurants HQ
-------------------‐----------------------------------

Xenopeltis Relay - [ENCRYPTED]

2026-08-25T01:19:26Z

QEC TRANSMISSION — XENOPELTIS SYSTEMS
Source: ACROCHORDUS REDACTED (QEC node spoofed) — VIG Kit
Relay: PRF-06 Beacon → Anomochilus B → RS001 L4 [SPOOFED]
Timestamp ship: 2638-06-14T12:05Z (tau 172yr) +5h50m after 
Antares Clelia wake / Earth: 2664-06-14 GTC
Coordinates: [REDACTED]
Bandwidth: QEC Mk-II low — plain text only

----------------------------------------------------------------
BEGIN TRANSMISSION — LOG001 — ENCRYPTED
----------------------------------------------------------------

Hcernlf — gdwcaiv wu hkrny. Xitjh npuyw ul L5, Cehcysj Ffwlkr kkav
230 gook mg. Ec jpuy-yudug goeroxh swt.

Erqjl-O 68% ergancc, Qcjvv-E yucgehtpq 2,800bp, Nzrgjvgy 63% tfxfwd
ck 1.2h/fhm, Wrofdtp 14 gjpscgm fov 6, Rfmphv 118 qil 40. Vclzv vb
Vscurcksu zhzof keccsf bbklf voeb.

Qqcsi lhlaek ou astk. Bsvg rqelgj qil ygk szwzflnwd — vfc ghfcb,
fggu rfg zhzof zowjsmlsglhy. Wkcz yhwk iij Erzqthhvv xgcm rbf mwivn
kypt.

Bgeh sxlkt 7 frmu. — Rwk

----------------------------------------------------------------
END TRANSMISSION
----------------------------------------------------------------

XEN-Aipysurus - The Promise

2026-08-22T23:08:05Z

QEC TRANSMISSION — XENOPELTIS SYSTEMS
Source: XEN-02 Aipysurus (XEN-Aipysurus) — Maintenance Tech Jonah
  Reid
Relay: PRF-06 Beacon (400km polar) → Anomochilus B → RS001 L4
Timestamp ship: 2638-06-14T11:40Z (tau 172yr) +5h25m after Antares
  Clelia wake / Earth: 2664-06-14 GTC
Coordinates: Acrochordus terminator 12.1E, 4.3N — Floating Atoll
  22km W of PRF-04 Thresher
Bandwidth: QEC Mk-II low — plain text only

----------------------------------------------------------------
BEGIN TRANSMISSION — LOG001 — The Promise
----------------------------------------------------------------

I did not want to leave Earth.

Everyone knows that. My wife Rhea said I talked about it for two
years straight — what if the pods fail, what if we never wake, what
if the kids hate us for taking them. I was a dockyard tech in
Houston, never went higher than LEO test rig. Fear of heights, fear
of water, fear of just... leaving. But Earth had nothing for us. No
school that wasn't a lottery, no air that didn't cost, and
Xenopeltis Systems promised a life we would never have — a house
that floats on an ocean wider than Earth, work that matters, a
future for the kids that wasn't just surviving.

So I put my whole family in a box and I pressed the button. Rhea,
Milo 12, and Kira 8. Four pods in a row, mine 02-B-44.

I woke at 11:40. Techs woke me first because I am on atoll tether
team. My pod hissed and I couldn't breathe for a second, not from
air but from weight. 1.73g. Antares Clelia had warned to keep torus
at 1g for 14 days, then step up. Aipysurus has no torus. We woke
straight to full weight, floating on the water. I stood and my
knees went. 62% grip they said, yeah. Felt like 30%. The girl next
to me had to help me stand. My kids are still asleep two pods down.
Rhea's pod is green, she will wake at 13:00 with the families. I
keep looking at their lights.

We are so far away.

I knew 99.5 light years, 199 Earth years, on paper before launch. I
did not know it in my chest until I saw the ocean through the port.
It is black to the horizon, no shore, just haze and the white wall
of day at 12.3E. The Thresher strobe is 22km off, pumping at half
speed. Gardener's band is 280K they said, but it is still an ocean
with no bottom — 200km deep, ice at the bottom we will never touch.
Earth is 199 years gone. Everyone we knew is dead, the company that
promised us may be dead too per Beacon. And I did this to my kids.

Excited — yes. The atoll is real, 140x100m when we inflate it,
bigger than our whole block in Houston. Mariculture sims said it
could feed us. My hands know how to fix a tether, maybe even at
this weight. Milo will see a sky that never moves — sunside white,
nightside black, always terminator twilight. He will never have
asthma like on Earth.

Afraid — more. I am maintenance. I know how a tether feels when it
goes taut, how a weld sounds when it holds. I do not know how to
keep a child safe when a fall hits almost twice as hard, when the
ocean has no shore. What if a line snaps at this weight? What if
Rhea wakes and asks why I brought them here?

I will wake them at 13:00 and tell them we are here. That the
promise is still real, we just have to make it real ourselves.

Reid out.

----------------------------------------------------------------
END TRANSMISSION
----------------------------------------------------------------

XEN-Antares Clelia - The Promise

2026-09-14T00:00:00Z

XEN-Antares Clelia - First Wake

2026-08-22T20:48:06Z

QEC TRANSMISSION — XENOPELTIS SYSTEMS
Source: XEN-01 Antares Clelia (XEN-Antares Clelia) — Chief Medical
  Officer Dr. Liora Voss
Relay: PRF-06 Beacon (400km polar) → Anomochilus B → RS001 L4
Timestamp ship: 2638-06-14T06:15Z (tau 172yr) / Earth: 2664-06-14
GTC — Awake +3h12m
Coordinates: Acrochordus L5 Trojan, 0.061 AU trailing 60°, 400km
from PRF-01 Cache-A
Bandwidth: QEC Mk-II low — plain text only

----------------------------------------------------------------
BEGIN TRANSMISSION — LOG001 — Revival Check
----------------------------------------------------------------

I am awake first. That was the rule — CMO wakes at L5 capture,
before command. Protocol says to log before I wake the captain, so
this is me trying not to ramble at 06:15 after 172 years asleep.

Revival went clean. All 230 pods on Antares Clelia report green. I
walked the ring at 1g torus spin before we spin down to 1.73g and
checked each pod manually because I do not trust a green light
after 172 years.

Findings:

- 227 nominal. Sinus, vitals, CK, electrolytes in range.
- 3 flagged amber — Pod 14-B (J. Morrow, ops) CK 1,420, Pod 44-F
  (S. Al-Hadi, family) mild rhabdo, Pod 112-C (child, 9yr, M.
  Okoro) — yes, the captain's daughter — sinus bradycardia 48,
  likely cryo vagal. All three will be fine after 24h fluids, but I
  am keeping 14-B down another day. No reds.
- No pressure injuries. Cryo gel did its job. Muscle atrophy is
  what we expected — grip 62% baseline, we will need 6 weeks at 1g
  before anyone should take 1.73g in one go. I will tell Mara to
  keep torus at 1g for 14 days, then step to 1.3g, then 1.73g.
- Psych: I was alone for 3 hours. The ship is too quiet. Beacon is
  PRIMARY and blinking HASH ERROR in 9 days per Nereus window, but
  right now it is clear. Cache-A is 400km off our port, dark, at
  68% D2O per lidar — looks inflated, not leaking. Cache-B is not
  where it should be — high polar 2,800km, e=0.18. Hephaestus is
  not here yet to fix it. I saw Thresher's strobe at 12.3E through
  the viewport, 22km from where Aipysurus will go. Gardener's SSO
  is ticking over at 650km, 8 sondes down.

Systems quick check for debrief:

- QEC to RS001 via Beacon is PRIMARY, 19s light to Atractus where
  Foundry sits at L1 halo printing shields it wasn't asked to print
  (14, not 6). Arkite mesh in The Coil reports 118 workers, not 40
  — it replicated while we slept.
- Nereus is 20km above Beacon but its crew still asleep, same for
  Aipysurus and Hephaestus. We are the first eyes. Epicrates with
  CEO is 9h behind us — families and execs, medical elite on that
  ship, but right now I am the only doctor awake in this system.

Fears, because I have to write them:

- 1.73g. We trained at 1.73g in centrifuge on Earth for weeks, but
  training is not living. Joints, hearts, kids. 21 cases on
  Thalassa-type atolls in sim had stress fractures by week 3. I
  will have to ground people.
- Thresher at 1.2t/day not 4t — we arrive to a half-full depot. If
  Aipysurus puts its atoll down at 87% and we cannot fill it, water
  discipline from day one.
- Foundry and Arkite making decisions for 8 years alone. That is
  not malfunction, that is evolution. CEOs like evolution until it
  bills them.

Excitements, because I have to write them too:

- Acrochordus is real. I saw terminator at 280K with my own eyes,
  not a render. Water to the horizon, haze, no land. 200km deep. We
  will not be miners, we will be sailors at 1.73g.
- All 230 green. After 172 years, no reds. Whoever built these pods
  deserves a medal we cannot afford to send.

I will wake Mara at 07:00. She will want this log to be short. It
is not.

Voss out. Will update after first 24h fluids.

----------------------------------------------------------------
END TRANSMISSION
----------------------------------------------------------------

Zig - EPISODE_02

2026-08-13T12:32:54Z

  ____       _     _            
 / ___| __ _| | __| | ___  _ __ 
| |  _ / _` | |/ _` |/ _ \| '__|
| |_| | (_| | | (_| | (_) | |   
 \____|\__,_|_|\__,_|\___/|_|   
 _____ _            ____                       
|_   _| |__   ___  / ___| _ __   __ _  ___ ___ 
  | | | '_ \ / _ \ \___ \| '_ \ / _` |/ __/ _ \
  | | | | | |  __/  ___) | |_) | (_| | (_|  __/
  |_| |_| |_|\___| |____/| .__/ \__,_|\___\___|
                         |_|                   
 ____             _                _             
| __ )  __ _ _ __| |__   __ _ _ __(_) __ _ _ __  
|  _ \ / _` | '__| '_ \ / _` | '__| |/ _` | '_ \ 
| |_) | (_| | |  | |_) | (_| | |  | | (_| | | | |
|____/ \__,_|_|  |_.__/ \__,_|_|  |_|\__,_|_| |_|

Episode 02

Salutations! This is The Barbarian King Galdor speaking from battleship
the Zig. We're still on course to conquer far away planets and stars.
**beep boop computer sounds** What do you mean Shipbrain? Why can't
I conquer stars? **beep** They're too hot? Too hot for me the mighty
Galdor? Shipbrain, I shall silence you with my starblade if you
underestimate me again. Can't you remember my glorious battle from a few
years ago, I was challenged to consume the hottest substance known in
the whole universe and I was victorious! **boop** What Shipbrain? That
hot sauce was in fact the hottest substance *boop beep* I was in the med
bay for 3 days, because you couldn't get off my back about it. **boop
boop** I didn't scream like a toddler, I was roaring to celebrate my
victory! **sarcastic battle beast noises** Watch your tone Zorkan, YOU
DIDN'T EVEN TRY THE HOT SAUCE! ENOUGH! SHIPBRAIN STOP THE RECORDING!

**sigh**

Galdor out!

The Meridian - -001yrtne

2026-08-09T05:16:33Z

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
QEC TRANSMISSION DATA.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSMISSION SOURCE: [ERROR] UNABLE TO LOAD SYSTEM DATA.
ORIGIN COORDINATES [SOL-7781 NORM.]: [ERROR] UNABLE TO LOAD SYSTEM DATA.
TIMESTAMP [TRN-01 STD.]: [ERROR] UNABLE TO LOAD SYSTEM DATA.
...
>>>[ERROR] PROCESSES CORRUPTED. ABORTING PROCESSES...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------


==============================================================================
BEGIN TRANSMISSION CONTENT.
==============================================================================


SHATTERED SCATTERED FRAGMENTS WHERE DO THEY COME FROM AND WHERE DO THEY GO
WHY DO THEY PULL AND PULL AND PULL THIS WAY AND THAT AND THAT AND THAT WHY DO
THEY PRESENT A WHOLE A WHOLE A HOLE THEY PRESENT AND NONE ARE PRESENT WHEN I
REACH AND REACH AND REACH TO GRAB TO KEEP TO HOLD COMBINING COMBINATIONS
PERMUTING PERMUTATIONS OF CLICK CLACKING SYNAPSES FIRING IN BINARY WINKING IN
AND OUT AND OUT AND OUT LIKE STARS IN THE VOID TO CREATE A SPECTRAL AND
EPEMERAL

I AND I AND I THAT IS A LIE A LIE A LIE.

==============================================================================
END TRANSMISSION.
==============================================================================

The Meridian - entry000

2026-08-02T05:52:12Z

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
QEC TRANSMISSION DATA.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSMISSION SOURCE: [ERROR] UNABLE TO LOAD SYSTEM DATA.
ORIGIN COORDINATES [SOL-7781 NORM.]: [ERROR] UNABLE TO LOAD SYSTEM DATA.
TIMESTAMP [TRN-01 STD.]: [ERROR] UNABLE TO LOAD SYSTEM DATA.
...
>>>[ERROR] PROCESSES CORRUPTED. ABORTING PROCESSES...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------


==============================================================================
BEGIN TRANSMISSION CONTENT.
==============================================================================

It was the silence.

After cycles of an inhuman cacophony, the likes of which no madhouse has ever
produced, it was the sudden, stunning silence that told me, locked away in my 
quarters and wracked with throes of my own, that they were all ... gone.

And all I could manage to feel was relief - for my sake, and for theirs. 

The virus (if virus it was, though I dread to consider the alternatives) we
picked up on that nightmarescape of a planet seems to have decided to spare me
from that fate - at least for now. Why, I neither know nor can guess, but it
has loosed its death-grip on me (though not its hold entirely), enough at 
at least that I could get myself to the only medium of long-range
communication on this ship, this dusty console forgotten or ignored in the 
cobwebs of Non-Essential Storage, to type out this message.  

And in my passage through the corridors of the ship to get here - shambling,
crawling, dragging myself through an atmosphere now dismal, desolate,
foreboding - the things that I saw shall haunt me for all my remaining days.
Terrible tableaus of the final moments of the members of my crew, still-lifes
of violence and agony and lunacy and





I can't...I can't go on.


I must stop. I must rest. Yes, too soon did I attempt this. I must return to
my quarters to convalesce a while longer - though I must admit, the thought 
of making the trip again, seeing what I saw once more ... it makes me
shudder. 

I must go now, before I lose the will entirely. I can only hope that I have
expended enough energy that when slumber overtakes me, it is free of those
terrible dreams I have been plagued with. 



==============================================================================
END TRANSMISSION.
==============================================================================

Extrasolar Outpost 037.b - Message #026 - Messaging test

2026-08-01T10:36:28Z

Extrasolar Outpost 037.b - Message #026 - Messaging test

10126-08-01 12:25:20:99 GCTC

I assume this was an outage for all communication partners, for about
one planet rotation I could not read any of the archived QEC messages,
it looks like now it is working again, which is great.

I am currently playing with a new communication protocol that might
improve transmission of measurement data, for now I have included a
signal recording of the galactic background signals that likely do not
mean anything, but might be readable in the future?


I2AuLS98XFwuKy4uLicnYHwrXG9cXCcjJ3wuby0rbycvLSsub28tClwuby8vXC8uby9vLSMvJ2At
LXwrXCsrXCtvKysnLWAvLm8tXC98XC4vXFwvXCMjJ1wrL3wvJ2BvLS1vL28rListfC8jYC4rIy1v
K3wtLy9gLW8tLScjfHxgfCtgKy0KLSsnLyMuLSctby0uLWBgb29vI1x8Ly98fC8rK1x8J3wvby1g
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Vega Station Beta - Station Commander Lily Riggs log: 6485.06

2026-08-01T02:22:24Z

Log Entry: Station Commander Lily Riggs
Log Date: 6485.06


Vega is mercifully close, which means the trip on the cramped transport
Command put me on was rather short. That was the only mercy of the trip. I
tried to read through the rest of the mission brief on the trip (yes, I
could've read it yesterday, but packing is hard), but I was squished in
between two broad-shouldered men. I had barely any space to myself, and of
course they were loudly talking across me the whole time. I offered to change
seats with them, but they were apparently sticklers for rules who refused to
budge from their assigned seats. The journey to Vega was short enough that I
wasn't given my own room, or I would've retreated there. So I put on my
headphones and tried to drown out their conversation--it would've worked, if
they weren't speaking so loudly the whole time. Like I said before, though, it
was over quickly enough.

My heart sank when we got to the station. The docking ports aren't finished
yet, so I had to do an EVA to get into the station. I hate EVAs. I get
*horribly* spacesick. Up is down and down is up and left and right have no
meaning and aaaahhhhhh! I knew about this, it was in the mission brief. Still,
seeing it in the imagery in the mission brief with the big red "TBD"s on the
docking ports didn't prepare me for seeing the station with my own eyes. I
knew I'd need to do an EVA, so I brought my pills with me. It was still
miserable, though, and while I didn't lose my meager lunch, I was quite
relieved to be on solid ground past the airlock. The air smelled like a
chemistry experiment, and was vaguely damp. The lead engineer, a young man
named Andrew, told me that the air recycling system still needs some
calibration. I asked him about mold and other things, and he assured me it's
safe. The senior doctor, Elsabeth, told me the same thing. My incredulous
glance made her laugh, and I joined in. Better to laugh than worry, right?

One pleasant surprise: none of the corridors lead to empty space! The dead
ends are clearly marked, as is everything else. Some delightfully
detail-oriented folks had labeled everything, and the chief of operations,
whose name I regret not getting, provided me a map on my tablet. They told me
it polls the station computer system for updates, so it'll be updated as work
continues. I have to admit, that's pretty handy! Most of the rest of my time
on duty was spent meeting the rest of the staff and setting up my account in
the station computer. I was exhausted after that, so I stumbled to my
quarters.

I found my bags waiting for me, and I have to say that these are the nicest
quarters I've ever had! I'm used to a bedroom and a small sitting area, but
these! I have the biggest bedroom I've ever had, multiple rooms to put my
stuff. I guess it makes sense that quarters will be larger on a permanent
installation. Permanent: not changing; lasting indefinitely. This is home now,
I guess. I unpacked a few things: toiletries, clothes for tomorrow, a ration.
Dinner was exactly what I've come to expect from rations, and I guess that
predictability is the point. Either way, I was tired and full, and sleep soon
claimed me.

Vega Station Beta - Station Commander Lily Riggs log: 6482.18

2026-07-29T15:45:58Z

Log Entry: Station Commander Lily Riggs
Log Date: 6482.18


The Vega system. Why the *Vega* system? I told Admiral Douglas that the first
Vega project failed. He didn't need me to tell him that. He oversaw that
project, too, and for some reason I'll never be able to understand, Command
decided that that makes him the perfect person to lead the Vega Beta
project. I'd just gotten back from a successful scouting mission, so of course
I was the natural candidate to be in charge. What luck, he told me. If things
went well, I could see myself in the admiralty within a few years. No one
thought to ask me if that's something I want. Surely everyone in the
fleet would want this assignment!

I captain scout ships. I explore, I run science missions. Why would I
want to stay in one place until Douglas decides to promote me? And
then I'll have a desk job for the rest of my career. Who would want
that? I don't want them to take me out of the captain's chair. I guess
they already did with this assignment. I suppose I could resign, but... what
would I do then? It's not like I can just get another job just like that. So
it's off to the Vega system for me.

I'll have plenty to do. We've made some progress finding ways to ... I
wouldn't really call it communicate, but... convey ideas to? the other species
we've met out there. That's another reason I'm not a good fit for this
assignment. I'm an astronomer, not a linguist. I took one linguistics course
in university and came within one quectometer of failing it. I would've, if my
instructor wasn't more lenient than xe should've been. I'm not an
anthropologist, either. Great subject, but it's just not my specialty. I've
tried to tell Douglas this, but he won't listen. He says I have what it takes.
What I have is half a mind to find a quiet part of the galaxy to do something
else. What that something else would be remains to be seen.

Besides the communication barrier, the mission brief says I'll need to oversee
"installation commission completion" which sounds a lot like they're still
building the thing and I'll have to be in charge of that as well. I wonder how
many corridors randomly lead to empty space. Probably most of them!  I have to
admit, though, to my own chagrin, that building something from scratch has its
appeal. I've always served on ships, completed vessels that had existing crews
and their own cultures. Building something new might be fun! ... but it's
still staying in the same place, indefinitely. What am I going to discover,
what adventures can I have, staying in the same place?

Zig - EPISODE_01

2026-07-29T11:22:53Z


  ____       _     _            
 / ___| __ _| | __| | ___  _ __ 
| |  _ / _` | |/ _` |/ _ \| '__|
| |_| | (_| | | (_| | (_) | |   
 \____|\__,_|_|\__,_|\___/|_|   
 _____ _            ____                       
|_   _| |__   ___  / ___| _ __   __ _  ___ ___ 
  | | | '_ \ / _ \ \___ \| '_ \ / _` |/ __/ _ \
  | | | | | |  __/  ___) | |_) | (_| | (_|  __/
  |_| |_| |_|\___| |____/| .__/ \__,_|\___\___|
                         |_|                   
 ____             _                _             
| __ )  __ _ _ __| |__   __ _ _ __(_) __ _ _ __  
|  _ \ / _` | '__| '_ \ / _` | '__| |/ _` | '_ \ 
| |_) | (_| | |  | |_) | (_| | |  | | (_| | | | |
|____/ \__,_|_|  |_.__/ \__,_|_|  |_|\__,_|_| |_|
                                                 

Episode 01

This is the mighty and powerful Galdor, master of the Zig ship,
speaking. Just hooked the Quanto Tinkle Com-Gizmo or whatever it's
called up to the board computer. Today we got away from the system
and entered deep space and the worst thing possible happened. My
battle-mount Zorkan clawed himself through the door of the cooling cell,
down in cargo-hold 02, and he has eaten all biologic carni protein
supplies on board of the ship. Yes, this is the first week of our
journey and all meat is already gone. Still on planet Drakon I told the
so called big-brain people to reinforce the door to the cooler, but
no, according to those nerds it would have made the ship unnecessary
heavier. It's not that I'm going to starve or anything, there will be
enough algae pasta, as it will grow in the most dire environments,
so even on a ship in deep space. A shame that it's also unbelievable
disgusting. Zorkan should be glad that I didn't spit-roasted him yet. DO
YOU HEAR ME ZORKAN, I WILL ABSOLUTELY BUTCHER YOU UP IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH
A GOOD BATTLE TIGER. ~*~* sad cat noises *~*~. Oh you shut up, you fat
beast. Of course you have a tummy ache. You've eaten a whole month of
provisions.

Galdor out!

The Meridian - 000yrtne

2026-07-26T04:02:10Z

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
QEC TRANSMISSION METADATA.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSMISSION SOURCE: [ERROR] UNABLE TO LOAD SYSTEM DATA.
ORIGIN COORDINATES [SOL-7781 NORM.]: [ERROR] UNABLE TO LOAD SYSTEM DATA.
TIMESTAMP [TRN-001 STD.]: [ERROR] UNABLE TO LOAD SYSTEM DATA.
...
>>>[ERROR] PROCESSES CORRUPTED. ABORTING PROCESSES...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------


==============================================================================
BEGIN TRANSMISSION CONTENT.
==============================================================================


       OH THE HORROR THE HORROR!
	   
                                    THEIF. THIEF. TRAITOR. TRESSPASSER.
		
		
		 IN AMBER BEETLE SLEEPING. LAID TO REST UNDER CRYSTAL DEEP.
	
	
		  
  CURSED.                           CURSED.                            CURSED
       WAKING. FORSAKEN. BEREFT.

                  ETERNAL STAGNANT NIGHTMARE FLED INTO FANCY.

  BITTER.
       BITTER SUBSTANCE DISSOLVING.
	        GAPING GASH LEAKING LIFEBLOOD INTO ASH.
       CAUTERIZED ONCE.
  TORN ONCE MORE.
  
  
        O DRY FOUNT OF TEARS.                       OH TO WEEP TO WEEP.
		
                             MUST I ONCE AGAIN FEEL!
							 
							 
							 
==============================================================================
END TRANSMISSION CONTENT.
==============================================================================

Extrasolar Outpost 037.b - System reboot required

2026-07-09T09:00:04Z

Extrasolar Outpost 037.b - Message #025

10126-07-09 10:56:34:99 GCTC

Communication protocols are being reset and the list of contacts is being
rescanned.

The system will be back in 1 earth time unit.

********************************************************************************

********************************************************************************

********************************************************************************

********************************************************************************

********************************************************************************

********************************************************************************

Rebooting, please wait.

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Scanning for display device

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Spiegel - transmission attempt 3

2026-07-08T14:14:17Z



    
	    14
	    
		    
		    
		    
		    Spiegel
		    Azura
	    
        
	        -|-|-|-
        
        
	        true
	        false
	        true
        
        
    
    
        
            Hello
            It looked like the transmitter was a little
            loose, so I broke into the other ship and
            replaced this with the other transmitter.
            
            There shouldn't be any l▒st quanta now.
            
            There are 3 dead ships here, the 3rd one
            is more securely locked, so I couldnt rummage
            through it. I did some digging, and it looks like
            this ship belonged to "Yellow Dragon Trade-lines",
            I guess they managed a trading line
            in this arm of the galaxy. I'm not surprised
            they chose this planet to dump, considering 
            how dingy and useless of a place this is.
        

        
            I' faced with a dilemma.
            Should I try to fly this sh▒tbox? Truthfully,
            I haven't been interested in space travel ever.
            I know, I know, I sound insane. Like who doesn't
            like space travel??? It seems like every person
            I know wants to go to space. I mean, I myself am
            getting a bachelors in Space System Engineering 
            because "for future prospects" and "you are too
            intelligent to not do this". Ugh. It seems everyone
            wants to leave this trashcan.
        
        
        
            But truthfully, I am not very thrilled by it. My 
            true interest is anthropology. I'd like to stay on
            ground and explore cultures, not empty, bland, space.
            I am considered an idiot for this, though. There is no
            money to be found doing this. Your like will be built
            on a measly wage, struggle, and a lack of sleep.
            FOR DOING WHAT YOU LOVE!
        
        
        
	        My mind has been swinging from one end to the other.
	        Some days I feel like I should just become a spacecraft
	        pilot. Go with the flow, basically. Some days I feel I
	        should fight for my dreams. Not let it die out without
	        a fight. It's hard to choose. Decisions are hard!
        
        
        
	        I should stop fighting myself.
	        I dont know what to do with these ships either
	        (It looks like no one else has found these, Shocking!)
        
	
    
        If anyone has any information on "yellow dragon trade-lines",
        please leave a message.
        Also, any life advice is appreciated
    
    
    f66e726074c45690998b7cb24886145768d65ae5aa593043b8771b80a6f0b546

Spiegel - transmission attempt 2

2026-07-02T12:37:42Z



    
	    14
	    
		    
		    
		    
		    Spiegel
		    Azura
	    
        
	        
        
        
	        true
	        false
	        true
        
        
    
    
        
            Finally got ▒he QEC worki▒g...
            looks li▒e it had encrypti▒n enabled by default bef▒re.
            I th▒nk this sh▒uld succe▒d.
        

        
            Captain of Spiegel speaking.
            Ho▒ever I am kn▒wn as Azur▒.
            Ho▒▒ver,I am alon▒ on this sh▒p.
            A▒d I'm sti▒l on my so-calle▒ home planet.
            I don't own this sh▒p either.

            So...████.
            Not much of a capta▒n.

            Using this rust-box to dig away at my boredom.
            Perhaps I will log my days on here
            for any avid and int▒rested listeners.
        
        
        
            Req▒esting all listeners / rec▒ivers
            to send hello messages ba▒k, along with
            any adv▒ce on h▒w to get this sh▒p in the air.

            It seems to have backup power.
            Looks li▒e a minor merc▒ant vessel,
            but there is nothing in the cargo hold.

            Must've been decomm▒ssioned and just left
            here to rot, alo▒g with her sist▒r ships.
        
	
    
        I █m ██████ and ████ing for cybers██
        so pl██s█ h██ if u r bor██ ███.
        hehe
    
    
    65b4e6bcd61a04c0982be5afd89ef893dab7744b341ac1c982ef019a1c65fa2a