﻿Log 5: A Great Adventure

Call Me Crazy, captain’s log… final entry.

...God, saying that hurt. To know we’ve come so far, and now…

It’s my own bloody fault. Even after everything, I still trusted Blondie. I never thought he’d...

We found Eden.

It’s so beautiful. I always wondered what Earth used to look like, before we made a pig’s ear of it. Blue, and green, and white. I hope we treat this one better. I hope we’ve learned our lessons.

But I guess if you’re listening to this, you don’t need me to tell you what it looks like. Congratulations: you found Eden too. We’re down there, somewhere. Hopefully we’re scratching out a life. 

We were cheering and whooping and patting each other on the backs when the lights went out. When we checked the cargo… It was sabotage, plain and simple. Brown nearly threw Blondie out the airlock right then and there. The bastard spaced half our energy sticks while we were asleep, then falsified the cargo manifest. I guess Chang must have found out and confronted him… dammit. I should’ve double-checked the storage.

So that’s it. We’re officially bingo for power. Blackout. Dead in the water. This system is rich in everything we need… but we can’t refine it without power. All those crystals, so close we could touch them, but the lights are off, the machines won’t work… and there’s no derelicts out here to salvage.  We’re officially out of gas, and it’s a long way to the nearest pump.

Blondie wasn’t even apologetic, he’s still standing there like he just did us all a massive favour. Like he just saved the world, the smug git.

Chef searched his cabin. Turns out Blondie’s a member of the Cult of New Haven, those crazy wankers who think God’s waiting for us out there in space and that we should never go back to living on planets because God threw us out of Eden. That book he’s been reading this whole time? The collected sermons of Visionary Able. 

He’s been brainwashing himself right under our bloody noses.

Well, joke’s on him. We’re going down there. It’s not like we can stay up here with no power, is it? The air’s already getting cold. 

Blondie says he wants to stay up here. That suits me just fine, there’s only room for four on the shuttle anyway. I can do without seeing the treacherous bugger every day for as long as we’re stuck down there.

I don’t care if he hypersleeps or freezes to death. I just don’t want to see him ever again.

So… anyway. I guess this is an SOS. If you’re reading this, we’re hopefully still down there somewhere, in need of rescue. We might be hard to find, it’s not like we can build a colony now. Honestly, it’ll be a bloody miracle if we don’t all starve to death down there, never mind building a radio beacon.

But it’s a better shot than freezing to death up here. I hope to see you, whoever you are, when you find us.

Until then…

This is captain Floyd Pierce of HSS “Call Me Crazy,” signing off.

++END LOG++