The Smoldering Journal

[Hector]

Day Thirty Eight:

FNG…Damn, I guess I’ll have to learn his name now, has taken over piloting duties. Apparently a lot of times when he’s been hanging out in the cockpit Roper has been…damn, it’s so hard to think about Roper not being with us…Roper HAD been giving him lessons. He’ll never measure up to Roper.

Rockman and Elizabeth both volunteered. Elizabeth is such an ace at the shields the only way I’d move her to pilot is if we were down to just her and me. Writing that down right now, I sure hope I haven’t jinxed us. Lanng didn’t even ask. He knows he’s needed running the engines and fixing the Oxygen generators. Rockman…I just think he’s too slow, for combat flying at least.

[Hector]

Day Forty:

This may sound cruel, but I don’t have to learn FNG’s name after all.

That stupid moron got himself killed just days after Roper.

Get this...our sensors picked up intelligent if primitive life. I was thinking about how handy it would be to have another hand around to share the labor. Turns out the planet was inhabited by these big quadrupeds that FNG swore looked just like the pictures of whoresess Roper was showing him in his cowboy books. I guess they rode whoresess. Or maybe Roper was pulling FNG’s leg with some play on words about prostitutes that the kid was too dense to get.

Whatever.

FNG ran off to catch one ‘in honor of Roper’ and got himself stomped to death. Roper was wild and bold, but he was smart about it. I really feel guilty for feeling this angry about it. If I am honest with myself, I’m angry at ME for making the decision to go down there.

Sam Gormba, I’m sorry I always called you FNG. Gormba, I hope you are in a better place now.

Mostly, I hope we don’t all join you soon.

[Hector]

Day Forty Two:

This Kestral has turned into a monster. Word apparently is getting out that the only way to take us down is by boarding party. Rockman has been piloting, so he hasn’t been able to get back and into the fights like he used to. It’s amazing the kind of pilot Rock has turned into. While his legs are slow the myrid of pebbles that are his ‘fingers’ just fly over the command console and the ship dances.

I’ve been calling both Elizabeth and Laang to face the boarders more than I like. It’s gotten so desperate that I abandon my station and run into the fight almost every time now too. The shields and guns on autofire can keep the enemy at bay. We’ve all learned from Roper’s death, and we are all quick to fall back and heal before re-engaging. I am carrying around a pretty decent size pile of trade goods hoping to entice a new crewman or two to join us.

[Hector]

Day Forty Five:

Well, I finally did it. No, not a new crewman, a drone system. I had salvaged a hull repair bot schematic. I’ve been collecting drone nanites for this entire trip…although I did trade some for fuel not that far back. I finally bit the bullet and purchased the system. By selling back the system repair schematic that came with this version of the drone system I was able to afford a few missiles and some fuel. I figure us living crew can turn a wrench just as well as a droid.

Fixing the hull is an entirely different matter.

[Hector]

Day Fifty:

If I could resign my post, I would.

Elizabeth died today.

Boarders.

She was fighting like a wildcat, wounded but holding her own, as I ran from Weapons to assist. She was fighting them in the storage bay behind engineering. Laang grabbed me and pulled me back from the door just as a missile hit the storage bay. It burned her hair off and charred her right side. But she wasn’t dead. Not yet. She looked up at me, and tried to stand to reach the door. The boarder looked at me too.

And then he smashed her face in with his rocky fist.

I cried for hours in my bunk. Elizabeth and I had developed a special relationship this journey. No, it wasn't sex (and no, she wasn’t a lesbian), it was built on faith in each-other and the principles of the Federation. That might sound cheesy to you, and if it does you can go fuck yourself. War is hell.

I think about all the Rebellion has taken. My Parents, Roper, and tens of millions of other beloved sons, fathers, daughters, friends, and mothers.

Elizabeth is different.

Her death is on my hands, not the Rebellion.

Just yesterday I had purchased an additional schematic the drone system...security droids.

I failed to engage that system.

I failed and she died because of my stupidity.

[Hector]

Day Fifty Five:

I am just guessing at the days now.

I’ve been empty inside. The two remaining crewmen aren’t human so I don’t know how to connect with them the way I do…I did…with my fellow humans, especially those who were classmates for four years. Maybe because I’ve been so detached that I’ve been so successful of late. The Kestrel has become even more of a warbird, but her system inefficiencies are starting to show. I’ve maxed out the power to the weapons system. I’m still relying on that pair of Mark II burst lasers. I’ve added in a Mark III and would love just a trickle more juice to run my small bomb teleporter. Maybe I’ll scrap out that Mark III at the next trading post. It’s just too slow and too much of a power hog.

Honestly, a third Mark II and a Breach Bomb would be ideal, but the trading posts never have what I really want.

[Hector]

No Date Entered

THE END.

THE FUCKING END.

I GIVE UP. MY SHIP IS IN FLAMES, THE OTHER TWO CREW MEMBERS ARE DEAD AND THE HULL IS GOING TO BREECH ANY SECOND. I’VE WALKED AWAY FROM MY STATION TO NOTE OUR END ON THIS ACCURSED JOURNAL. TO WHOEVER FINDS THIS, THE UNIVERSE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT ANTS LIKE YOU OR ME, THE REBELLION THE FEDERATION OR ANY OF THAT BULLSH

[azelea]

This has just been excellent to read. Thank you.

If I was a millionaire, I'd hire you to chronicle each of my playthroughs.

[Merf Avenger]

This is going to make FTL a much more emotional experience for me, now that I think of these events. Well written.

[saydelver]

What a cool, extremely well-written story—I enjoyed reading it very much!