Another segment of The Beamer fanfic project… will this last any longer and more importantly, will there be another segment that won’t need a month long wait?
Ship’s Log… somehow, this runabout has an old-school notebook in one of the storage bins. Actual pen and paper… who would have guessed? And since there’s more than enough light outdoors, I guess this will be my main means of reporting.
Beamer crashed onto the planet surface… somehow, I survived, but ship is totally beyond salvation. All efforts to restore power have failed… I stepped outside and was able to confirm that, yes, there is an oxygen atmosphere making this hospitable to human life. I can walk outside and breath this planet’s air… but that’s all I can do.
From the look of things, I’m dealing with endless wasteland. Mostly sands, some mountains in the distance… even saw a couple tumbleweeds bounce around like I used to see in those Ancient West stories. The temperature seems almost pleasant… not too warm, not too cold, and just enough sun to…
Wait…
I just felt a drop of rain…
Spoke too soon…
I open my mouth to try and catch some of the drops… at this point, what have I left to lose? Fortunately, it tastes like rainwater. Whether it actually is that or something else entirely, I’m not quite sure. I don’t have any working equipment to identify, so I’m taking a chance in letting this rain down my throat… if this ends up being my last entry, then at least you know my possible cause of death…
It’s been an hour… I’m not dead yet…
I look through the remaining storage units… the emergency beacon seems to be intact… a flick of the switch and the beacon hums with light and sound. For the first time since this whole bloody affair started, there’s an actual smile on my face. This girl still has a chance.
The downpour of rain continues… seems like it’s been hours… meanwhile, I’m not dead yet… though I might as well look it. I could use a good shower right about now… or at least a fresh new uniform.
Nothing else to report… if I make it another day, I will begin a new log… in the meantime, I can only hope that someone catches my signal and comes by soon. I don’t care if that ship who attacked me finds me. At least I’ll be off this rock and I can also find out who’s responsible for this whole mess.
This was Lt. Uma Dowe. End report.
END SEGMENT 03.
dtm666 