Ad infinitum.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
CL4-Site Alpha//CL4I-Site Zeta.”
“This is site Alpha. Zeta, do you copy?”
“Affirmative, sir. Site Zeta, ready to deploy.”
“After so long we’ve been assigned to another infected planet. As always, two sides. Crimson and Corruption.
Though the last planet’s infection had been subdued into another eternal slumber, this world aches for an archaic freedom.
Two task forces were plagued by this impious madness, disavowing their home lives to chase down the last fragments of destruction festering the world as a personal compost bin. We gathered our bio-tech foam launchers, which shoot out a cleansing conglomeration of chemicals for this specific purpose. We donned our gear for spelunking into the maw of chaos! The real job is a lot more boring than that, haha! This planet was small enough that you could traverse around the circumference in less-than two hours. Four on one side, four on the other.
Terminal > Pvt. Reyes > Log Entry > 14 > Crimson Insurgents.
“...And that’s all there is.” howled Corporal Aumann.
With a snap, Lieutenant October, (a recently moved Lieutenant, as of a week) said the following which changed the outlook of our mission completely:
“Notice that..? The last message, which should’ve been the status report, was cut off by the deployment.”
We all sat in a stunned silence, bewildered at this revelation that not even Captain Faulkner had realized. The solar wind began to pick up outside. The view to planet Auburn-28 was still as it was over twelve hours prior, when the recovery team found these tapes, no bodies or ashes of bodies or fingerprints or remnants of people ever being seen.
The proverbial summer had come to a screeching, death-rattling halt whilst the insurgents were tasked with finding anything they could about the lost crew. I’m writing this log in preparation for my trip to Auburn-28, keeping the formalities in case of my death. While my squadron, the 15th CCI division prepare to explore the now cleansing scorched remains from the 12th CCI division… We find it wholly - frankly - terrifying. There’s never been an issue like this with any of the other CCI expeditions. I speak for myself when I say I’d rather not be the first team going down, yet that’s the nature of this job. They hire the “brave and the willing” so they say. Hell, I even shaved my head for this role! That’s dedication. If there was a way to record my long sighing, fatigued voice, you’d hear my tone. This place takes a toll. A toll on a lot of things, mostly mentally. They train you for everything and anything that could possibly happen, yet they don’t train you for when your brother-division seemingly (and suddenly) vanishes from every trace of recorded history overnight. Hopefully wherever they’ve gone, or if they have; it’s a land of luxury. Godspeed, Starbase Theta. Private Reyes out. Ps. if I don’t return, leave everything to my lovely wife. Thank you.
Terminal > Cpt. Faulkner > Log Entry > 3 > Nightmare.
Corporal Aumann came to us with a startling new discovery on the 12th Division case. Right before the final wave of transmission cut through the tape, a small dialogue between the two sides (which should have occurred at the utter beginning of the recording) happened referencing their deployment. Just a little over thirty-six hours into the recording. Either they had intended on pulling a prank on us, or the tape had malfunctioned, yet never within the twenty years of this new-fangled NoS13 style tape has that happened. Furthermore, if it was intended as a prank, their spectacular disappearing act has surely dwarfed whatever they had thought up.
Beyond that, these two specific teams had been working for over thirty years together, barring the two new recruits from one man retiring on both sides. The higher ups always scorn my insistence on the use of tapes instead of digital recording, well, they’ll see how helpful it can be when not all devices require a Beta-Thoman signal…
Wait. I’ve just remembered, we recently switched our suits. For posterity, within the last three months, we began phasing out the use of Nano-Hardplate equipment, into Beta-Thoman. Beta-Thoman is a type of radio wave that enhances the units wearing them with subtle changes: blood flow, cooling gel, pulse limiter. Nano-Hardplate was simply becoming too barbaric for such finely tuned tasks. Every new recruit would come back with a complaint about how heavy it was, how bulky it was, how hard it was to move. List goes on. The testing on these new Beta-Thoman suits was done by the company, for the company. Though I am a leader in the industry when it comes to making marketable protective equipment, (Captain’s Claw, a device which allows the user to stick onto walls with mounted spikes.) I am certainly not a stranger to people lying to cover things they did not test. Perhaps something on the planet induced a highly charged radiation frequency, destroying one of the cooling gel packs. It wouldn’t explain the disappearance, yet it could very well explain the death. I’ll investigate more. Before that, we’re praying that Private Reyes and his company have a safe mission. ~Captain Faulkner.
Terminal > Pvt. Reyes > Recording > 1 > Tape Transcript. > Alpha
Several minutes of silence & breathing coincide with the optical view spanning several seemingly deserted rooms. The lights have begun to fail and the outside has a light breeze. Nothing of note besides the blinking lights. Pattern: Long, short, long, long, short. A pause. Short, short, short, long. Conclusion: failing generator. No audible anomalies. Names added before words for log view convenience. ~Pecora Co. NoS13 tapes. Always Know the Pecora Glow!
Pvt. Reyes: “What do you think could’ve done all this?”
Pvt. Williams: “Hell, Reyes, I don’t know. This whole damn planet had an eery feel to it. I told everyone we should’nt’a”
Pvt. Reyes: “Recording.”
Pvt. Williams: “Oh, that’s right… In any case, we all knew this planet was severely hostile. Just not sure the 12th’s old bones could keep up here.”
Pvt. Reyes: “That is certainly a bold assumption. Wouldn’t you consider that Alexander the Great was of later age when he began to conquer..”
Pvt. Williams: “Spare the history lesson, please and thank you. We’re currently looking through a case that might become one.”
Pvt. Reyes: “Noted.”
Several more minutes of silence.
Pvt. Williams: “*sigh* You are correct, though. They were prepared with enough equipment to handle an infestation like on Sibilant-14. There’s no reason any of this should’ve happened. I’m telling you it was those damned new suits. Those radio-wave bullshit things. Trusting a company with only its own tests ran. Fuckin’ idiots.”
Pvt. Reyes: “You know, that is a good point. We didn’t really have time to run anything against them. Even still, they were marketed which means they got through the Starfleet Incorporated testing.”
Pvt. Williams: “Well, either way, I don’t trust these damn things.”
Long, drawn out silence while delving into the lower floor of the facility. Note: other officers talking in the background may be added intermittently due to feedback from room acoustics. While these officers were not equipped with Pecora Co. tapes, they were given optical recording devices. Voice filter applied for higher accuracy of intended targets. To remove this feature, simply open the back of your Pecora Co. branded tape and cut the black wire. Try your hand at a Pecora Co. NoS13 tape today, by submitting a small pamphlet of what you’d use them for in your local starbase’s mail electronizer. Always Know The Pecora Glow!
Pvt. Reyes: “Williams, you seein’ this?”
Pvt. Williams: “What the hell? Looks like the whole hull got torn apart!”
Pvt. Reyes: “Maybe we didn’t know how strong these things were after all…”
Pvt. Williams: “Listen, it’s growing dark. Let’s come back tomorrow at Site Zeta, see if we can-”
An officer in the background shouted that he had found what looked like a log entry.
Pvt. Reyes: “Great! Now let’s get out of here.”
Terminal > Sgt. Kumięga > Log Entry > 1 > Progress.
What a beautiful day on a beautiful planet! I’ve longed for the joy of making a difference in this grand universe. My last mission was so simple that even recruits could do it. They said this planet, Auburn-28, was similar to that of Sibilant-14. What a challenge that was.. Still, even with the rushing adrenaline and heart thumping a-million-miles-a-minute, It is a little nerve wracking, I must confide. Either way, this space virus, I wonder how far its roots have spread… Seems like anywhere in the galaxy you can find a rotting planet, usually not with both, however, which is why we were called in. I have no doubt this is an overblown example of Theta blowing things out of proportion. Between my squad and our German friends over Site Zeta, we’re like a proverbial progeny of Häyhä & Richthofen. Never lost a man, never lost a friend. Thirty-two and a half years counting. As far as provisions go, we’ve been loaded up to the gills with everything you could ever want! If this wasn’t an active duty mission, I’d consider it shore leave. We’ve already checked in with Zeta, they too share the feeling. Ah, another year another habitable planet we can make together. Above all that, we’ve got these new suits. They supposedly work with radiowaves, making the wearer feel all sorts of performance boosting effects. I’ll be honest, I’m slightly hesitant, but… It passed Starfleet, it works for me. We’ve staked our claim and sent out our turbo-housing, let me get off of this computer and enjoy the scenery for a few.
~Sergeant Kumięga, Crimson’s Deathbird.
Terminal > Cpl. Aumann > Recording > 3 > Day two.
Among the stunned silence reading this message aloud, the crew engages in specular discussion over whether or not it was really from The Deathbird, most noting how it had his distinctive prose; characteristics of his speech patterns. Deep thought analysis, 99.8% sure The Deathbird composed that letter. Have you heard and seen the quality of Pecora Co. tapes? If not, check a movie at your local cinema. Pecora Co. is a proud sponsor of Silver Sea Productions™. Always Know The Pecora Glow!
Cpt. Faulkner: “Well, now we know nothing was wrong with him upon landing. Great. Listen, I’ve been working on a theory-”
Cpl. Aumann: “And theories will get us nowhere! How many times do I have to keep reminding you of this? Remember how far your theories got us on Sila-9?”
Cpt. Faulkner: “Remember how I was the last man standing against a thousand bug wide infestation when I used my experimental Eratorbomb? Let’s not argue semantics, Corporal.”
The Corporal shrugs a mighty amount. He takes a long breath.
Cpl. Aumann: “I get it. Sorry. Tension is high right now; you know this isn’t my strong suit.”
Cpt. Faulkner: “Never change, Corporal. Never change. Now: I’ve been working on this-
The Captain makes a very noticeable glance at the Corporal
hypothesis. Those new suits haven’t truly been tested for all the money they’ve dumped into them. At least not in our field. Is it at all possible that something could - say - interfere with the way they adapt electricity?”
Pvt. Reyes: “For what it’s worth, Williams and I could share our feelings about these new suits, if you so wish to hear.”
Pvt. Williams: “What he means is that we all agree it was a terrible idea to use something that was only tested by the manufacturer.”
Cpt. Faulkner: “I have had my reservation about the whole ordeal, yet-”
Pvt. Reyes: “Yes, we know they passed Starfleet’s testing.”
Cpl. Aumann: “You’re saying you think the radio waves somehow got disrupted?”
Cpt. Faulkner: “...And since no one has truly tested them, who knows what it could do? It could’ve exploded, fried, overloaded-”
Cpl. Aumann: “15th.”
Pvt. Reyes, Pvt. Williams: “Yes Sir!”
Cpl. Aumann: “We’re going to study these suits, you two drop to Zeta, see if you can find anything about them. Reminder, while this mission is of top priority, do not put yourselves in jeopardy.”
Pvt. Reyes, Pvt. Williams: “Affirmative.”
The 15th Division walks towards the landing pods.
Cpt. Faulkner: “You seem to be taking my training well. Moved them just like a senior captain. Now, let’s get to the lab.”
Terminal > Dr. Kumięga > Recording > 74 > Beta-Thoman suits.
Corporal Aumann & Captain Faulkner are seen entering the science bay, approaching Dr. Kumięga. They are talking quite fast and at range; some words may be lost. Enhancing gain. Have you needed more quality for your recording output? If so, try a Pecora Co. NoS13 tape. Always Know The Pecora Glow!
Cpl. Aumann: “--- the - - - - testing these ne- - - - - -”
Dr. Kumięga: “You can pardon the attitude, Lance. Need I remind you that was my brother down there? That I not only just lost one of the very few that believed in me, but also that I don’t even have a scrap of him left to grieve over?”
Captain Faulkner: “Forgive his mood, he’s been under a metric ton of tension. I’ve been letting him handle the deployments as I plan to retire sometime soon.”
Cpl. Aumann: “Listen, I’m sorry. Alright? I can’t imagine being in your position, I just-”
Dr. Kumięga: “It’s fine. Always fine. Now, this is a peculiar visit: both Lance and Alan at once. What could possibly permit such a blue-moon event?”
Cpt. Faulkner: “Those new suits, the Beta-Thoman receptor ones. We believe something inside could’ve caused the disappearance of the 12th. We have nothing concrete but think of how they-”
Dr. Kumięga: “The radio waves… Yes.. you two might be onto something here.”
Corporal Aumann and Captain Faulkner look at each other, appearing shocked.
Dr. Kumięga: “If it weren’t for Starfleet, I’d have had these scorned and relinquished to our jailed. Blasted things. Who thinks adding all these enhancements will actually make a damn difference? It’s all magic. Creating a new wave of under-trained soldiers solely based on-”
Captain Faulkner nudges the Doctor
Cpl. Aumann: “We wanted you to try and reverse engineer some of the effects of the receptors.”
A look of bewilderment brands Dr. Kumięga’s face.
Dr. Kumięga: “Damnit Lance, I’m a Neuroastrologist, not an Ionic-Engineer!”
Dr. Kumięga breathes a heavy sigh, Captain Faulkner putting his arm on the Doctor’s shoulder.
Captain Faulkner: “We just need you to try. You have more knowledge on this, even if limited, than us both.”
Dr. Kumięga: “...Sure. Give me a day or so and I’ll have these wound inside and out.”
Captain Faulkner: “Thanks, Irek.”
A smile briefly glows over the Corporal and Captain’s face as they leave.
Dr. Kumięga: “This damn mission. If I had any fight left in these old bones I’d go down there and personally kill whatever did this to us… Hear me, Nikodem?! Damn Deathbird… Should’ve just retired. What was that you always used to quote? ‘Everything that you are will make up a star eventually’? God, I hope you’re right, you old bastard… Is this thin-”
Terminal > Cpt. Faulkner > Log Entry > 4 > Doctor.
We handed two suits off to Dr. Kumięga for investigative tampering. While he claims to not know everything about everything, I can assure that he’s lying. Especially when he wants to know something. This mission has drained us all mentally, probably physically as well for the 15th Division. That’s a position I do not envy. They’re currently being sent to Site Zeta as I type this. Certainly they know of the danger, yet I can’t stop feeling compelled wanting to tell them everything. I suppose that’s what being a parent will do to you. I’m glad I managed to talk my kids out of this job. It’s hell. Maybe not in the physical sense; certainly the emotional sense. My time as a cleansing rifleman was just as miserable as these good lads on the 15th. Oh, Lord, I can hear that message in Niko’s cheery voice. He was always too pure for this role. You have to turn off all emotions, become callous. That’s why it makes me glad to see that Aumann has some of that fire in him still, that fire to disobey the rule of Starfleet and object when he feels wronged. I told those damned fools on the 12th that this was similar to Sibilant-14.
I just wish I could’ve been there to protect them. Whether it be the suit or the bugs. They were in the service, still opting to do CCI missions. Didn’t deserve any of this.
~Captain Faulkner.
Terminal > Pvt. Reyes > Recording > 2 > Tape Transcript. > Zeta
Several minutes of silence accompany slow movement displayed by all members of the 15th Division. Site Zeta appears to have been destroyed completely. There appears to only be a small room intact, seeming to be the kitchen. The outside has begun brewing what appears to be misting rain. There is a strong breeze. The few remaining lights are flashing inside the kitchen. Pattern: short, short, short, short, long, short, short, short, long, short. A pause. Short, short, long, short short short. Translation: “Save us” Severe anomaly detected: energy readings highly unstable. Have you heard how we began? If not, check the manual that comes with every Pecora Co. branded tape. Always Know The Pecora Glow!
Pvt. Reyes: “What.. the.. fuck? What happened here? Did a bug do this?”
Pvt. Williams: “That’d be impossible. If so, it’d be the biggest, strongest damn bug that we’d ever come in contact with.”
Leave while you can!
An officer replies but no one responds, or seems to notice.
No
Pvt. Reyes: “Isn’t that.. the truth. Either way, barely anything left to scrape from here now. Looks like the whole fuckin’ place exploded from the inside.”
An officer shouts from behind them, once again no one noticing.
“Help!”
The 15th Division continues as scheduled, finding a few Pecora Co. branded tapes. One curiously entitled “Alpha log 2”
Terminal > Dr. Kumięga > Recording > 75 > Revelation, don’t be cruel.
Corporal Aumann and Captain Faulkner are seen walking into the science bay, most likely at the Doctor’s behest.
Dr. Kumięga: “Your hypothesis is correct, Alan. These suits react strangely to the incoming electronic field. Still, nothing could’ve been so powerful as to vaporize them, surely.”
Cpt. Faulkner: “...I told this fleet. Don’t trust anything that hasn’t been tested by the people actually using it.”
Dr. Kumięga: “You seem so convinced it was the suit. Need I remind you that this planet was similar to Sibilant-14? The bugs on that nightmare were big enough to eat you whole.”
Cpl. Aumann: “He’s right. We’re talking about the 12th Division. Not some recruit team.”
Dr. Kumięga: “I understand their propensity for achieving the impossible, but even then, isn’t it believable that maybe something was just too powerful on this go-round?”
A loud voice overcomes the room
“Shuttle CL4I-Zeta Retrieval has returned to orbit.”
Cpl. Aumann: “Forgive us, but we need to see them.”
Aumann and Faulkner begin to scurry out of the room in a haste.
Dr. Kumięga: “...Wait! Those interceptor rigs..”
Yes,
Terminal > Cpl. Aumann > Recording > 4 > Zeta Update.
Everyone gathers around to examine the tapes, most intrigued by the ones labelled under the Crimson designation appearing at the Zeta site. They were shocked to see the seemingly morse code translation. Checking the energy readings showed a semi pulse-like rhythmic beat. The group loads the first tape from site Zeta. New Pecora Co. branded tapes use radio-waves to achieve the ultimate in quality, using raw energy as a recording medium. This provides our patented “glow”. Always Know The Pecora Glow!
Pvt. Reyes: “After all that happened, it began pouring rain to the point we could no longer see. That was accompanied by rumbling from the ground and a screech from something obviously large and bug-like.”
Cpt. Faulkner: “I see. We discovered up here that those new Beta-Thoman suits can be interfered with by stray electromagnetic energy.”
Pvt. Williams: “I knew it. Damned idiots.”
Cpl. Aumann: “Well, what are we waiting for? Put those tapes in, let us see what we’re dealing with here!”
Cpt. Faulkner: “He’s right. Any more idle chat and we might lose the chance to go back a last time due to that storm..”
Private Reyes puts the tapes into the computer, revealing two log entries. Before viewing, he also put in the Crimson tape, yet it was locked by an encrypted passkey. Suggestion: call the Doctor.
Pvt. Reyes: “Here, a few logs.”
Terminal > Sgt. Eberhardt > Log Entry > 8 > Rumbling.
The more time I spend here, the more I strangely wonder what could be under the ground causing these bizarre fluctuations in stability. I know for a fact that Alpha’s base is from the same maker as ours, yet I sense the instability being rather high here. We tried to investigate a high pitched screeching sound heard the other day during a storm. These CCI missions are starting to wear on us, I think. I was going to ask Niko if he was considering giving up the ghost, but I know deep down he’d never leave. Not voluntarily, anyway. As for me? I’m starting to get that feeling: what if this is all I am? A ghost, for a major company. I’ve thought about finally choosing to rank up. We’ve had that option for so many years now. I can’t bring myself to it, though. Letting that old crone Deathbird out on his own would be my gravest sin. We don’t truly “need” each other; we’re both decorated with many complete successes. It would feel like losing a brother, though. Look at this, big brave Sergeant Eberhardt getting all emotional in his terminal entry. This job has its way with you. Really, it does. Ask anyone who’s done a rudimentary CCI job. Sibilant-14 or Physo-5, doesn’t matter. It’s got a certain charm to it, a certain mind-altering charm. That storm yesterday knocked out Zeta’s communications. One sided, however, as I could see the flarelight in the evening sky when we tested it towards Alpha. Between this new recruit and this now one-way communication… This mission just gets better and better. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day. For now, we’re putting up a strong perimeter of those new electric forcefield chains. Can’t be too sure. Ever, really. Especially now, though, with these strange happenings. Up until yesterday, Niko remained in his constant chipper mood. Sometimes I envy that.
~Sergeant Eberhardt, Corruption’s Butcher.
Terminal > Sgt. Eberhardt > Log Entry > 17 > Garganta
We’ve discovered what was making those rumbling sounds. A creature beyond appalling, it lumbers in a slow manner with the weight of a thousand tons. How it begins to coexist here shocks my company to our core. Our communications are still out, Engineer Scott is working tirelessly on that. It seems the beast is not attracted to scent or any common method of hunting. It seems to slink its way around with no discernible pattern. Almost like a whale. Its maw remains in a constant state of open, its thousand tiny legs propelling it to wherever its destination is. We ran a test of using a small round of fire, seemingly to no effect. As it travels, it leaves behind these smaller, worm-like creatures which spring to life and within a day are adults. I’m starting to doubt that Alpha has the worst luck here. Usually we get the more laid-back missions; they get all the combat.
This time, however, I feel like we have the "privilege" of being the front row seats to this world's denizens. We saw a fire start at Site Alpha earlier. This coincides with Niko’s usual self, yet he isn’t responding over flare. Our communications worked one way before, I can’t imagine they’d fail now. That being said, the fire is also quite large. Not unusual for him, yet not standard either. I begin to fear for our Polish brothers. If we have this monstrosity, what could they possibly have? I think for tonight we shall focus on rest, I’ll tell Körbl and Scott to give it a rest. If that creature comes back, we’ll have to try everything to stop it. I believe Freya is going to make a larger portion tonight in preparation. That’d be nice. Rationing everything gets old extremely quickly. I wonder how Świętopełk and Kaja are doing over at Alpha. Never really get to hear from them. Goodnight, reader.
~Sergeant Eberhardt, Corruption’s Butcher.
Terminal > Dr. Kumięga > Recording > 76 >Emergency Exit.
Tape begins with a strong set of footsteps in pure dark, followed by a shocked voice from the Captain. NoS13 Tapes, the quality you need. Always Know The Pecora Glow!
Cpt. Faulkner: “Ir- Doctor?! You have live-”
Dr. Kumięga: “Yes, yes I know! I received an alert from the helm that I was needed!”
They all share a look of confusion.
Dr. Kumięga: “Are you sure? I can show you-”
Cpl. Aumann: “We believe you. None of us sent anything, though we did need your help.”
Dr. Kumięga: “Well? I have live subjects I need to tend to.”
Pvt. Reyes: “These last two tapes were encrypted. Their titles are ‘Stars’ and ‘memento mori’. We think these will let us know what happened.”
Dr. Kumięga: “..How could I know the passwords?”
Pvt. Williams: “One is from Crimson, locked by your brother. The other, well, the captain tells us you been fumbling around with radio waves. Aumann noticed in the automated advertisement at the end of the tapes automated description feature, it says they glow due to using radio waves to record.”
Dr. Kumięga: “You want me to try and corrupt the file into working?”
Cpt. Faulkner: “Pretty much. Yes.”
The crew all cast large sighs into the room, Dr. Kumięga looking outside.
Dr. Kumięga: “You know, I don’t get up here often; has that star always been there?”
No.
They all turn to look.
Cpt. Faulkner: “I believe so, Doctor. We’ll do a scan on it tonight, however, since I can’t seem to remember.”
Dr. Kumięga: “Hm. Now, you do all understand how risky this is? This ‘potential answer’ could simply be wiped away from existence. Corrupting things isn’t a pretty artform or a sultry glance.”
Cpl. Aumann: “You have no legal responsibility for these tapes. That’s been relieved already by Starfleet. Whatever happens, good, bad, that’s fine.”
Dr. Kumięga: “...Fine. Which one first?”
Cpt. Faulkner: “As much as we hate to say it-”
Dr. Kumięga: “Crimson. Got it.”
The crew walk to the science bay.
Dr. Kumięga: “Isn’t this ironic? I might be erasing my brother’s last words.”
Cpt. Faulkner: “Really, I hate to ask. If there were any other way we could attune this-”
Dr. Kumięga: “I get it. Business over life. Another day, another dollar. I just wish this encryption wasn’t so binded. If we could replicate it somehow, I could master the right frequency to see both opened.”
Pvt. Reyes: “And why can’t we?”
Dr. Kumięga: “This special encryption was invented alongside these new NoS13 tapes as a security measure for big-time studios like Silver Sea. They have a machine at Pecora Co.’s home of operations that will scramble the data inside to prevent leaking onto cyberspace. The way it does that is unknown, though I now theorize it has to do with - effectively - subcutaneous radio waves.”
The crew stands aside while the Doctor begins to inject high frequencies into the tape’s outer edges.
Dr. Kumięga: “Not even sure why they call them ‘tapes’ anymore. The olden days when they actually used it would make sense. Now they just keep it for the branding.”
After a pause, he continues.
Dr. Kumięga: “There. Check to see if it works.”
The crew run back to the helm, inserting the tape into the main computer, only to hear its contents slightly jumbled. They return to the science bay to see a distraught looking Doctor
Dr. Kumięga: “Didn’t work, I take it?”
Cpt. Faulkner: “Actually, it worked extremely well for a first go.”
Dr. Kumięga: “Oh?”
Pvt. Reyes: “It’s jumbled. Past the point of words being legible.”
Dr. Kumięga: “Oh.”
Cpl. Aumann: “I mean to assume that you were only a few numbers off on what frequency to use. For this second one, turn it down by around five.”
Dr. Kumięga: “..And how would you know, Lance?”
Cpl. Aumann: “There was a distinct sped up feel to it, that would indicate-”
Dr. Kumięga: “Understood.”
With another burst of energy, the tape received 25,844 doses of macro-generational wavelengths. 5.5 less units than before.
Dr. Kumięga: “It’s done, Alan.”
Cpt. Faulkner: “Wonderful. You’re always reli-”
Dr. Kumięga: “Listen to me. After this mission is over, I want an express trip to Pecora Co’s homeworld so I can try and get this one fixed. I don’t care how it looks on us, Starfleet, or any other miserable corporate entity we’re entwined with. If I’m right in assuming those are my brother’s final words, and I just corrupted them out of existence, I want the best chance possible of having it saved.”
Cpt. Faulkner: “I… Understand, Irek.”
Dr. Kumięga: “Thank you.”
The Captain turns back before exiting to meet with the rest.
Cpt. Faulkner: “We’re running tests on that star. I mean it.”
Terminal > Sgt. Eberhardt > Recording > 21 > Auburn
Lady Freya: “My God! They’re-!”
Sgt. Eberhardt: “Finish rigging that setup Scott! For Chrissakes, Körbl, help him with it!”
Engineer Scott: “There’s no time, Sarge! They're breaching the hull!”
Loud clanging sounds can be heard echoing through the facility, followed by monstrous shrieking by what sounds unlike any human. It sounds windy outside, with a strong breeze. Sounds of rain can be heard. Panicked, heavy, stricken breathing is audible from all directions.
Sgt. Eberhardt: “Damnit Freya, your leg!”
Lady Freya: “My-?”
A sharp head tilt is seen and a banshee like shriek follows. A large grouping of white worm-like creatures are seen infesting Lady Freya’s left leg. It would also seem that Sgt. Isaak Eberhardt is missing a right leg. Whether or not this is a new development is inconclusive.
Sgt. Eberhardt: “Scott, Körbl! Rig the mainframe for emergency overload!”
Engineer Körbl: “You dummkopf, that’d kill us all!”
Loud snapping akin to a large ship sinking is heard, several screams from Lady Freya growing quieter as each one is heard before stopping. Gunfire overtakes voices.
Scott: "Schieße! How do we know Alpha isn’t still alive? They could reach us! This planet is only an hour or two long!”
Sgt. Eberhardt: “For all that’s holy, Scott, they just dragged away Freya! What makes you think they’ll treat us any better?! Besides, they haven’t sent a flare or anything for days! Our communications worked one way, remember?!”
Engineer Körbl: “We’ve done it! The main has been set to Übercharge!”
Sgt. Eberhardt: “If it wasn’t already clear, I love you both as dear as my family!”
Engineer Scott: “That feeling is reciprocated fully back at you!”
Engineer Körbl: “That goes for me as well!”
Sgt. Eberhardt: “If anyone finds this, tell Niko I’m sorry. Tell my wife she was right. Tell the Captain.. Aw fuck, I don’t have the time for this. I respect you, Faulkner. Even between all my snide remarks. You’re a damn good man and I’d have worked for no one else. Pull the cord gentlemen! A sweet goodnight for Division fif-fuckin-teen I say! Goodbye, Scott! Goodbye Körbl!”
Large, pulsating sounds can be heard, alongside grunting, followed by moaning, suggesting extreme amounts of pain and or anguish. Around the thirty second mark, a cacophony of screams occur from things that aren’t human, followed by an immediate and abrupt stop to all sounds. The last thing seen from the optical sensor was a short frame of a wall where Sergeant Isaak Eberhardt once was. Following this event, a decrease of nearly 99% of audio was heard, besides the outside sound. It sounds calm and peaceful, with either no, or a slight breeze. The audio continues for another six and a half hours, no notable moments. Audio does not peak anywhere in the six hours besides the stagnant noise of air. It would suggest that everything on the planet had halted.
End Recording.
Terminal > Dr. Kumięga > Recording > 77 >Fate.
The crew stands around with their faces sullen, some with watery eyes.
Cpt. Faulkner: “So they had no other choice but to self-destruct. Poor bastards.”
Pvt. Reyes: “My God…”
Pvt. Williams: “...”
Cpl. Aumann: “That explains their death, but how does that explain Crimson’s?”
The crew look over
Dr. Kumięga: “He’s right. Those specific types of self-implosions are quite small in range, designed for use on the battlefield. That would explain their disappearance, yet Crimson remains a mystery.”
A researcher walks in
Scientist Voclain: “Sir, transmission received from planet Auburn-28”
The crew looks collectively shocked.
Cpt. Faulkner: “From… The planet?”
The Scientist nods his head.
Scientist Voclain: “It appears to be a signal scrambled in high frequency.”
Dr. Kumięga: “Let me have a look at it.”
The crew gathers inside a lower deck, observing a primitive oscilloscope that had only been checked once every week.
Dr. Kumięga: “It’s using noises to make lines… Alan, Lance, go grab something with paper!”
The two hurry off, slowly making their way back once attaining said paper.
Dr. Kumięga: “Down. Right. Up. Left. Dash. Up. Right. Down. Up, Up. Left. Down. Dash. Left. Down. Right. Dash. Down. Right. Up. Down. Right. Up…”
Cpt. Faulkner: “Well, Irek?! What’s it say?!”
Dr. Kumięga: “It spells ‘BACK’. Though I fail to see how that is relevant to..-”
Cpl. Aumann, Pvt. Reyes: “The tape!”
The crew runs back to the main computer, putting the Crimson tape in backwards, noting that it is also locked. They return to the science lab, unscrambling yet another signal from that tape, this time with more accuracy.
Pvt. Williams: “Well, put it in already!”
The tape inserts into the main computer with very little effort applied. It immediately begins playing a message recorded by the late Nikodem Kumięga
Terminal > Sgt. Kumięga > Recording > 21 > Star.
An audibly straining Deathbird begins speaking.
This tape will have one side as a log and one as this recording, just incase something happens to one. Me and my company are huddled together right now, an unknown event is occurring which has bound these suits to our bodies. Thankfully, Świętopełk and Kaja, have fallen victim to the overdosing of Ihitocain. As for me and my trusty Engineer Ryba, we have run out of it in our suits. It’s a surreal feeling, seeing the end coming for you. Seeing the darkness grow in the corners of the room, looming. If this is how we feel, I can’t imagine my poor Richthofens over in the corruption. I don’t know how long I’ve got here, so I’ll try to make this quick. To the 15th Division: don’t keep up this job for as long as I have. I simply enjoy the prospect, even though I could’ve been so much more. I can’t help but feel this is a little bit my fault. Eberhardt had wanted to rank up for a good while now.. God I hope he’s alright over there. His communications began to fail just a little bit ago and we’ve run out of flares to communicate back. I hope they get that working again. Lance Aumann, hear this. You’ll make a damn good captain one day, you little rascal. Whether I gave the impression or not, I loved being your unofficial uncle. Alan Faulkner, of all the captains I’d worked for over my tenure, you were by far the best. Strong, commanding, but with humility and a sense of heart. I know you must be treating my brother up there so, so well. Always wished I’d gotten more into his studies. I think Ryba has begun to pass out.. If I could just. Get. this. Suit. off..! Damn it… Why did we ever trust these things? Okay, okay. Running out of- time. Time. That’s it, wait. No. It’s still normal. Keh-heh. Thought I’d got it there. Okay, well. If this is the end, my glorious fading out instead of my Silver Sea explosive ending as though I’d planned. I have one more message. Hopefully he’s around to hear it, not too absorbed in his lab equipment, studying how planets can technically think or whatever it truly is he does.
Irek. Brother. Hah, now I’m getting all choked up. Literally, too.. Hah. Listen, if this should be my final moments, please, for our parents, carry on our name. Bear it proud into the glorious sun I’m staring at. Remember that no matter what academic achievements you complete or fail, you’re still my world. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, you mean more than I could ever say. I know how I can come off sometimes, all brash and what-not. Wow. Wow. It’s getting- alright. No matter what happens to me, anywhere, anytime, I’ll be with you when you need me. I-”
A loud voice.
“A large explosion of electromagnetic waves is approaching from due west.”
“That’s.. No, that can’t be..”
The optical sensors pick up Nikodem slowly crawling to the computer, opening the window, revealing a massive black wave coming towards him.
“Our scanners… They.. Didn’t work?”
“Launching Countermeasure”
“After all this, what does me in is a faulty suit and a broken scanner?”
Several moments of silence are heard as he stares outside.
“Oh, God… This is it.”
Loud screaming comes over the mic.
“The suit is..! Is… Brother, forgive me! I’ve always.. loved..-”
The loud grunting and moaning suddenly went silent. Another sound starts:
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sou nd of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sou nd of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the w aves coll ide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The so und of the w aves collide.
The sound of the w aves collide.
The sou nd of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The so und of the wa ves col lide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the wa ves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The soun d of the waves collide.
The sound of the wa ves coll ide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sou nd of the waves collide.
The sound o f the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The sound of the waves collide.
The s oun d of t he waves collide.
The s ound of the wa ves collide.
The so un d of the wa ves collide.
T he s o und o f t he w av es co llide.
T he s oun d o f t he wa ve s co lli d e .
End Recording.
Terminal > Dr. Kumięga > Recording > 84 >Routine Check.
Dr. Kumięga: “It’s been exactly a week since I learned what had happened. I’ve already made copies so the Starfleet can understand and give Niko an honorable death. A death he so deserved, not what he got. To not dwell, I have set up a micro-exhaustion chamber. It’s a small test that's easy to monitor, for no reason in particular. I was offered leave, but, I think that’d make it worse. In the meantime, Its solar night, all the lights are off. I’m not even in the lab currently. I’m sitting on the helm looking at this star. I could swear that it wasn’t here.
Footsteps are heard faintly
Cpt. Faulkner: “Can’t sleep either?”
Dr. Kumięga: “How’d you guess?”
Cpt. Faulkner: “We finished those readings on that star right there”
The Captain had walked up to the lounging Doctor, pointing out the ornate glass.
Dr. Kumięga: “Oh yeah?”
Cpt. Faulkner: “I think you’ll find these fluctuations quite interesting, Irek.”
Dr. Kumięga grabs the papers, his face suddenly teary eyed, mixed with shock.
The fluctuations spell out a repeating phrase:
I was right.
The Author acknowledges these sources:
Music Artist “Deftones”
Music Artist “Buckethead”
Music Artist “Roy Orbison”
Music Artist “Goo Goo Dolls”
Game by Redigit “Terraria”
Gene Roddenberry Production “Star Trek”
As influences on this work.
E★彡