I am Captain Oni of the Eidolon, a Kestrel-class cruiser in service to the Federation.
I am now departing on a vital mission to relay important information regarding the Rebel fleet to the Federation fleet, eight sectors away. I am unsure if the Rebels know of my mission.
With luck, this log will be an account of our first successful strike at the rebellion, the mission that turned the tide of the war.
Otherwise, may this log serve as a record of our struggle against the savagery of the rebellion. Know that we fought to the very last.
Day 1: This mission is too important to trust to a single ship. However, if mission control has other ships carrying this message to the fleet, I have been left in the dark. A wise move: if I know nothing about potential other messengers, then I cannot betray them if I am captured.
However, I have no intention of being taken alive.
Lieutenant Tach is optimistic. He does not believe the Rebels even know that we're here, much less that we found anything worthwhile to relay to the fleet. He may have a point that the rebels are unlikely to notice a small cruiser such as this one, but I'm guarding myself against complacency.
Ensign Elizabeth seems to feel similarly, though it's hard to tell. She is new aboard the Eidolon, and I've never met her before now. She's a rather intense woman, difficult to talk to. I've decided to entrust her with the weapons system with the hope that such intensity can be directed toward the enemy.
Lt. Tach and I have a rapport already, and I trust him to manage the engines while I take the helm. With such a small crew, I'm forced to leave the shields and other systems to the AI.
As we plot our course through the sector, I notice a distress signal nearby. My mission is first priority of course, but I am an honorable soldier of the Federation: I cannot ignore a distress signal.
Ensign Elizabeth objects to my decision, correctly noting that the distress signal is coming from the opposite direction of our destination. I appreciate her pragmatism, though I am concerned about her willingness to question authority this early in the mission. I hope that she learns to trust my judgment soon.
Day 2: The source of the distress signal turned out to be a refugee ship drifting in space. I hailed them, suspecting that they were out of fuel (our stores are quite full), but it turns out that they were hoping for spare missiles to defend themselves.
I could see Ens. Elizabeth about to offer an opinion, but I cut her off; I'm charitable, but not naive. We will no doubt have need of our missiles, and I'm not one to trade away valuable ordinance.
I declined their offer of trade and advised them to shut off their distress beacon, since the rebels may be coming through the sector soon. They listened to my advice, but their tone was cold once I declined their offer of trade. As we prepared to jump toward a nearby nebula their distress signal was still transmitting.
Day 3: In the murky depths of a nebula, against all odds we happened upon another ship.
A Mantis ship.
The Mantis were true to form, attacking us without provocation. A sensor sweep of their ship revealed no signs of a teleportation system, and I breathed a sigh of relief: a mantis ship we can handle, but a mantis aboard our ship would be dangerous. We have all had combat training, certainly, but we are sailors, not infantry. And even a marine would shudder at the thought of facing a mantis.
Ens. Elizabeth targeted the enemy shields, but a volley of lasers struck the helm, causing several instruments to erupt into flames. I attempted to extinguish the fires, but they spread too rapidly; I escaped the bridge and took control of the airlock system, venting the oxygen to extinguish the flames.
Luckily, Ens. Elizabeth continued to fire upon the enemy, taking initiative and destroying the mantis ship. With the fires out and oxygen returning to the bridge, I set about making repairs.
When the system came back on, my heart sunk: Rebel forces had entered the sector. There was not yet any proof that they were after us specifically, but just to be safe I decided to stay in the nebula for a while, hoping to throw them off our scent.
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