It’s cold. Too cold. If the life support systems are failing, I don’t want to know. We’ve already had too many malfunctions on this ship for the crew to handle. I hope we can find a station that can do repairs soon, or we’re going to be in trouble.
The cold hasn’t gotten any better, but it hasn’t gotten any worse, either. I guess no change is better than bad change. Maxon decided it would be a good idea to move the rest of the crew out of C sector and shut off power. We’ve now got 18 people occupying A and B sector. It’s cramped to say the least, but at least we’re saving on energy.
On a better note, the food replicators are finally working again. Not sure how or why. We don’t have a mechanic on the ship any more. I guess the bug just worked itself out. No matter. At least I can have my tea again.
It’s a ship. It’s another damn ship. We haven’t seen anyone for three months and finally, out of nowhere, we get a hailing call. All attempts to connect failed, but we all heard the frequency. Maxon ordered the ship moved in the direction of the hail, but we’re on reserve power. We should arrive in another few days. Gah I can’t wait to see people again. Well, different people. two years with the same crew can do screwy things with your head.
Well, the good news is that it’s not cold anymore. The bad news is it’s almost 34 C inside the ship. Nobody can figure anything out. All ship systems seem to be functioning normally, but without Deckard on board, we aren’t able to do a deeper diagnostic. At least we’ll be to the other ship soon. Maybe they’ve got someone on board that can help.
We found the ship, or what was left of it at least. I’d never seen something so torn to bits before. We sent over probes to look through the cabins. God, it was terrible. The suffering those people must’ve went through. It looked as though their bodies were burned, but there weren’t any scorches on the hull or inside the ship. We want to go over to look for supplies, but Maxon won’t let us. I can’t blame him though. We’ve already lost so much, I don’t think we can afford to lose any more.
Maxon finally decided to send over a small, two-man crew. We docked with what was left of the air lock and put on our suits. It’s difficult heading out there, into space. One of the things you never forget is the silence, the striking, painful silence. It rips into your ears like a train at first, and then you begin filling it in with noise of your own. You can hear the blood flowing through your eardrums. You can hear your heart beating in your chest. It’s too much.
I left the airlock first and jetted over the causeway onto the ship. The door was locked, and for good reason. Through the window in the hallway, I could see three bodies huddled in the corner, all holding one another. We passed what must’ve been their kitchen until we made it to engineering. But hell if we knew what to do when we got there. All the signs looked normal, well, except for the scratches on the control board. The body in the chair next to the main computer had its fingernails ripped off, like it was trying to claw its way through to the wires inside before it died a horrible death.
We found the supply room after that, thank God. We grabbed what we could carry, fuel, power coils, hopefully all functioning, and brought them back to the ship.
The only good thing about being out their in the cold darkness of space was that we got out of the ship. Coming back inside was like entering a sauna. I know the rest of them were jealous that I was able to get out, even for ten minutes, but I would’ve traded places with them in a heartbeat if I could have.