2nd of Aprimay, 5501
Morning
Madeline and M’ikayla left at dawn. An imperial shuttle arrived to ferry them home.
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As thanks, they are having a neurocalculator implant shipped to Stalwart Haven.
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I do not blame them for being eager to leave.
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We offered protection, then showed how tenuous our defenses here truly are, crumbling in the hands of a mere seven tribals.
9th of Aprimay, 5501
Night
Tenuous.
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LAUGHABLE.
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We broke our backs building those walls just for them to come from the damned sky!
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Suborbital drop pods. Launched from nearby, no doubt.
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Nine operatives, not mere bandits or tribals, but well-armed soldiers. By a stroke of luck they arrived outside our walls.
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We were outgunned. The killbox would be no use against such a force.
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We devised a plan to use the southern gate as a choke point, and engage them in melee. The plan was risky, but it was all we had.
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We were no match.
Schlitzer was hit first. A flash of light, a handful of buckshot, and he was dead. It didn't seem real.
The chaos that followed was a blur of gunfire and screams.
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Tommo, Coleman, Nikita, Inna, Schmidt, and I – we all fell, our bodies riddled with bullets, our blood soaking the soil of our home.
Then, Marjot appeared, from the trees.
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Dressed in a black trench coat and cowboy hat, he was like a shadow given purpose.
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His six-shooter barked death, and two raiders fell, their grip on Coleman and me loosening.
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Tommo, Schmidt, Nikita, and Inna were already gone. Marjot carried Coleman and me to safety.
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Tonight, our home was broken. From seven, we were reduced to two. Then three. Schlitzer, my advisor and friend, is dead. Tommo, my son, taken. I have failed this colony.
10th of Aprimay, 5501
Morning
Coleman and I owe our lives to Marjot.
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He has taken over my usual duties as doctor, and his bedside manner may be better than mine.
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Marjot buried Schlitzer near the road.
Afternoon
A trader passed by. Marjot stepped up to negotiate on our behalf.
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He sold 39 of our components for six vials of glitterworld medicine.
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Night
Marjot showed me an additional item from the trader. A psytrainer.
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The packaging promises a “berserk pulse” ability for the user. He said he had read my notes on psyonics.
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I appreciate the gesture, but must admit that my psionic abilities aren't yet advanced enough to harness such power.
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11th of Aprimay, 5501
Morning
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Held a funeral for Schlitzer at dawn. No one else attended.
Afternoon
Marjot shared his story.
His wife, taken by the same raiders who attacked us. He followed their pods, hoping for revenge, or maybe just closure.
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His horse, spooked by gunfire, had deserted him, leaving him to fight alone. It's strange how fate brings people together at the crossroads of despair.
Night
Gathered in the dining hall to discuss plans for rescuing Tommo.
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Marjot talked us out of it. We were outgunned, outmanned. Rational thought prevailed over the raw ache in my heart.
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We needed to fortify, to prepare. Building better defenses, arming ourselves with more than just hope.
13th of Aprimay, 5501
Morning
Three tribals at our gates – Paine, Denis, and Klein. Looked like they've been through a lot.
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Paine has a good eye, might be useful for hunting. Denis is good with his hands, a real craftsman. Klein's young, but he's keen to learn.
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Schlitzer is no longer here to turn them away.
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We've been short on hands since Tommo and the others were taken. The colony can use every willing hand.
Night
I can hear them chatting in the common room. It's been a while since we had new stories around here. Seems like they're fitting in just fine.
Decembary 5500...|...Jugust 5501