FTL Log Entry 1
The following is a transcript of an audio log received by the Federation. It is still in the process of being decrypted, but updates will follow as they're available.
Captain's Log, Day 1: My name is Markel. I don't know why, but I figured I would keep a log of this shit. In case anyone finds these recordings, they'll know that we were tasked with a nearly impossible mission. It's like they're setting us up for failure.
First off, I'm only Captain since I'm the only one with flight experience. So I guess that means I'm the pilot. We've been given information about the Rebels vital to the Federation fleet. Apparently, having information about the flagship of their fleet set them on a scramble. I would laugh at how similarly this resembles the introduction to the first "Star Wars" movie, but the reality of the situation is that we're in worse shape than Princess Leia. I've been assigned a measly crew of two others in a refitted Kestrel. These things were outdated years ago, and we're supposed to be meeting up with the rest of the Federation fleet. We're seven sectors away, and according to my engineer Aisha, our engines can only make small jumps unless assisted by telemetry from long jump beacons. At the moment we only have enough fuel for sixteen jumps. Perfect. Who knows what messes we'll run into trying to get from one long jump beacon to the next. Bjorn, our gunner, says we have 8 missiles. With the Rebels on our tail, we better hope that's enough. At least we have a basic shield to hold us together.
The crew seems hopeful. I'm not sure they understand the gravity of the situation, but their high spirits may be what pulls us through.
Captain's Log, Day 1: My name is Markel. I don't know why, but I figured I would keep a log of this shit. In case anyone finds these recordings, they'll know that we were tasked with a nearly impossible mission. It's like they're setting us up for failure.
First off, I'm only Captain since I'm the only one with flight experience. So I guess that means I'm the pilot. We've been given information about the Rebels vital to the Federation fleet. Apparently, having information about the flagship of their fleet set them on a scramble. I would laugh at how similarly this resembles the introduction to the first "Star Wars" movie, but the reality of the situation is that we're in worse shape than Princess Leia. I've been assigned a measly crew of two others in a refitted Kestrel. These things were outdated years ago, and we're supposed to be meeting up with the rest of the Federation fleet. We're seven sectors away, and according to my engineer Aisha, our engines can only make small jumps unless assisted by telemetry from long jump beacons. At the moment we only have enough fuel for sixteen jumps. Perfect. Who knows what messes we'll run into trying to get from one long jump beacon to the next. Bjorn, our gunner, says we have 8 missiles. With the Rebels on our tail, we better hope that's enough. At least we have a basic shield to hold us together.
The crew seems hopeful. I'm not sure they understand the gravity of the situation, but their high spirits may be what pulls us through.
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