4th of Jugust, 5501
Afternoon
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Fennel alerted us to another raid this morning, already in our walls.
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The dog fought bravely, and is recovering now.
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Denis and Paine were shot before they could reach the raider in the rice fields.
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Rifle in hand, I finished the job.
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Aftermath: Marjot, Denis, Paine, Klein, and Fennel – all injured, some critically.
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Our herbal medicine supply is all but depleted.
5th of Jugust, 5501
Morning
An unsettling turn of events unfolded today.
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It seems Marjot has succumbed to the pressures of our life here.
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He declared his intention to leave for the wild, and set off towards the gate without another word. I do not know when he made this decision.
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​​Paine intercepted him, and somehow managed to coerce him into a bed in our makeshift prison.
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The rest of us gathered to deliberate on the situation.
We agreed it was best to keep Marjot confined until he regains his senses. It's a precaution, both for his safety and the colony's.
6th of Jugust, 5501
Morning
Marjot is resorting to self-harm.
Denis took his six-gun for safekeeping. ​We convened again to decide our course of action.
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Leaving him in that state feels wrong, profoundly so.
Yet, releasing him into the wild, especially in his current state, seems akin to sending him to his doom.
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We decided to continue holding him. ​
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We'll keep watch over Marjot, hoping for a change, a return to clarity.
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For now, all we can do is wait, watch, and hope.
7th of Jugust, 5501
Night
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A shuttle crash-landed early in the morning.
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Only one survivor, a woman named Sandra. Paine carried Sandra in and tended to her injuries.
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I was unavailable, for I found myself gripped by a compulsion to clean the colony, an urge so strong it bordered on mania.
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Room by room, I scrubbed and tidied, lost in my own world of order and cleanliness.
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​In my fervor, I failed to notice a mad boomalope that had followed me into the colony. Klein stepped in, the hero he is.
He slashed at the creature to draw its attention and then led it carefully out of the colony. ​
As night fell, I finally broke free from my compulsive cleaning.
8th of Jugust, 5501
Morning
Raided at dawn. This time, we used the killbox.
Coleman manned a gatling gun of his own make. Paine and I supported him with our small arms while
The raid unfolded with mechanical efficiency.
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One raider broke through and charged at Denis. In a swift move, Denis neutralized the threat. The rest of the raiders fell soon after.
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We emerged unscathed. The days of being caught off guard are behind us.
9th of Jugust, 5501
Afternoon
Marjot lost it today, really lost it.
Just after breakfast he went berserk, thrashing around and beating on the walls.
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We gathered to discuss the situation.
We agreed it was best to let him go once he calmed down.
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Amidst all this, another issue cropped up. With Paine, Klein, and Denis eventually leaving, we will be without competent cooks.
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I have requested that Denis prepare a large stockpile of meals, both fine and simple.
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Night
Released Marjot into the wild.
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Maybe out there, he'll find whatever it was he was searching for.
10th of Jugust, 5501
Afternoon
This morning, Coleman managed to win over Paine with his incessant flirtation. I wonder if he remembers Paine is only a guest?
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Paine, Klein, and Denis plan to leave in seven days. I hope that is enough time for the two of them.
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Night
As night fell, Sandra, who had been recovering from her shuttle crash, decided it was time to move on.
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As she left through the killbox, a pack of manhunting fennec foxes was waiting outside. The foxes stormed past Sandra, and towards the open medical bay.
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Coleman and Paine intercepted the foxes, and took a stand in the corridor. Back to back, they fought off the hoard, sustaining only minor injuries.
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They’re resting now. I am proud of that boy.
11th of Jugust, 5501
Morning
The absence of Inna, Tommo, Nikita, and Schlitzer is a constant ache, a void that seems to grow with each passing day.
On top of it all, my frustration over not being able to augment my body, to enhance myself beyond these human limitations, gnaws at me daily.
Afternoon
Fennel is gone.
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Our bravest colonist, struck down by a cougar just outside our walls.
Coleman was understandably hit the hardest by the loss. His emotions boiled over, delivering him into a full-blown tantrum.
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I believe the outburst was about more than the dog. I know the loss of Tommo has been festering in him, an open wound that refuses to heal.
What else will this world take from us?
13th of Jugust, 5501
Night
Our largest raid yet this morning, from the east. Tribals.
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We stuck to the protocol. Gather at the killbox. Initially, our defenses held strong.
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As the battle wore on, fatigue set in, and the final wave of raiders managed to breach our position. Coleman took a desperate shot with his shotgun as a raider breached our walls. The raider fell, but so did I, a victim of friendly fire.
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My left lung was shredded.
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I'm recovering now, but this injury has left me physically diminished. Breathing is a struggle, each inhale a reminder of what's been lost.
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Amidst this setback, there's a glimmer of hope. A bionic lung could restore me, even improve me. But first, we need to find one.
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As for Coleman, the guilt in his eyes is punishment enough. He's been barred from using the shotgun again.
Aprimay 5501...|...Septober 5501
