Whisky Alpha Romeo UT19


 

YEAR: 52028 HE

SHIP: Matriark II, Super-Frigate Exploration class

CHRONICLER: Markus Hadey

LOCATION: Nojo Memorial Farms and Gardens

 

DAY SIXTY HAHAO EXPLORATION CHRONICLE

It’s been two months since we set foot on Hahao and we are at war. Sub-Captain Ortner failed to stop Sub-Captain Pines from firing the Death Shower at the Grey-Skins. In the weeks that followed the Grey-Skins attacked. We have been confined inside the ship. Supplies are running low.

     The main weapon used against us is the worm. The Grey-Skins have a way of calling them to battle. The worms obey their commands. We lost Sergeant Dinn to a worm attack.

     After a week of floundering, it was agreed that we needed to manufacture concrete. Larkina sent a one hundred-strong protection unit, with the Professors of Geology and Architecture, out into the wilderness to source some limestone, clay, and sand. A Kiln was built and Ortner’s wall has been reinforced.

DAY EIGHTY-EIGHT

The worms have been nullified by the concrete. If any do make it into our settlement, the ships chemists have created a cheap and plentiful salt that melts them. We are no-longer confined to the ship. Everyone, including myself is working to cultivate a sustainable store of food, should an unforeseen change in weather hit the farms. 

     Moral has started to rise again now that our defences have secured us against attack. The walls are staffed with snipers. The Grey-skins have a healthy respect for us now and know not to step into range.

     We are still suffering from the decisions of the recently diseased Sub-Captain pines. He has lit a fire under the feet of the Grey-skins. I am no expert in war. But I have my suspicions they have not forgotten what he did. I suspect they are working out how to attack us again. But for now we can rest easy. There is enough scrap metal to replace our ammunition, and we have been expanding our farms reinforcing them concrete walls as we go. There will come a time when we need to mine metal. It will not be easy if we are still at war.

     It is my hope we can find a route to peace. The legacy of Sub-Captain Pines, he has set us back for years to come.

UT19

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THE OVERCOAT

Image
  “Tailor of timeless thread Sow me an overcoat fit for the gods From horned rams wool To blunt the teeth of winter Dye it black as the Great White’s eyes So I can slip past the dead Line it with Red Widow’s silk To keep the blood from cooling Make the pockets deep So I can fill them with gold.”   04/02/2011. - Hastings , England.-                 The wind blew in through my back, into my heart, and out through my ribs. It froze my blood, flesh and bones. I had nothing left. My money had splintered into loose change. The post-apocalyptic nightmare called me to come and rest with the ghosts. And yet, there was an immense feeling of clarity at having nothing, and owning nothing, except the rags on my back. My lack of capital was burning round my mind. As the cold ripped into my spine it numbed my despair. What I needed was warmth.        ...
Read more

SMOKE

Image
  I shoved a piece of peanut butter toast into my mouth and left to catch the tube. It was a greasy London morning. I had to interview the butcher. He had information on a suspect. The prison was brick built it smelt of pain and sickness.                                      They took me to the meeting room. Bluestone had killed for money and then for pleasure. The firms didn’t want him anymore. He was too wild to be of any use. He knew the language of blood and butchery better than he knew English.             He held himself as if he were free. The walls of the prison had no effect on him. He could not be broken. The guards feared him. They didn’t like it when he was out of his reinforced solitary cell.                      ...
Read more

Summer Lost

Image
  A hot wind shook the edge of the wild. The lawns were parched. The washing line bowed under the weight of the week. A robin pecked at the mill worms Sandra left him when she hung the clothes. Her kids had escaped the nest, they had grown and had kids of their own. She lived with Frank. He sat inside watching T.V. It was a gorgeous afternoon, right there on the edge of the wild. The wind shook the beeches at the boundary of the fields. To shut yourself up on an afternoon like this was wrong. She knew it was wrong but remained loyal to her husband. Inside was stale. The brown curtains cast a brown light over everything. The carpets were lost under years of filth. The arm rests were blackened with cigarette ash. Frank sat in his chair a meter from the T.V screen. Sandra sat on a two seater to the right of Frank and she had to crane her neck to watch the T.V. There they spent their days. When he was hungry she cooked his meals. When he was dirty she washed his clothes, and scrubbed h...
Read more