Crius 9 Exploratory Team 13 Journal Collection

The journal of Lundell M. Bernadette

26 January 2365

As per company policy I’ll do my best to record from now on, as Grace has so kindly reminded me to do. The air out here is heavy with humidity and heat, complimented by the peculiar stench of Yarrow wood; something I've come to think of as an ungodly cross between pine needles and rotten garlic. Making this time of year nearly unbearable on the shores of the River Creik, or as the local beings of these parts called it Budlaz Kuzaddra. I think I spelt that right anyway.

Now what planet is the River Creik on you might find yourself wondering? Well to us of the Galactic Common it's been assigned the name Crius 9. However the locals had already named it long before our arrival, Uht Mon Grath. Sparrow taught me that. Who is this Sparrow you might ask? Why Sparrow is our guide. I mean his name is much more complex than that but he has a great grasp on Galactic English, and doesn’t seem to mind that our party has shortened it.

  I’ll explain a bit about him here before I continue, as a matter of fact I best explain his whole species before I go any further. They call themselves the Uht Mon. Squat looking yet large beings, only a bit larger than the average human. Most alternate between biped and quadruped movement, though opting to be on all fours more often than not. Possessing no mouth or nose to make a face of, the only notable feature on their heads is the large black oily eyes that occupy most of its surface. A match to their pallid off green-grey flesh that almost resembles moss on places. Presumably due to hair, though I have dared not touch our host.

  With backs coated in a breathing membrane that absorbs oxygen and other gases from the atmosphere the Uht Mon are able to breathe but as a result don’t have the mind to clothe themselves beyond straps and bags necessary for carrying belongings.  Using this same membrane they vibrate the air around them and are able to create sound waves producing mesmerizing musical tones,  imitating nature and even speaking in their own tongues. Or should I say backs? As well as in the case of a very select few such as Sparrow taking up the languages of those of us brave enough to visit their unforgiving planet.

Let us get back to Sparrow, because really Sparrow is a great fellow. He has welcomed us into his home and provided us with wonderful food. I mean after we had the whole fiasco where we had to explain cooking and eating to him he has gladly supplied us with the necessary ingredients.

You see the Uht Mon do not eat like us humans, lacking a mouth and all. They instead use a membrane similar to that on their back which exists on their belly. I have yet to see it happen myself but Patross; a colleague of ours who specializes in botany, saw it only yesterday. Patross said Sparrow was able to absorb four large fish in one go, it’s shimmering thin gelatinous orifice suspending and ripping the raw food down in some gory show.

Sparrow has told us about an even greater river to the north known as Siezara Kuzaddra, supposedly the fish there grow to sizes that can sustain a single Uht Mon for days. Though few have ever braved the wilderness to reach it. The company sent us to this distant and virtually unexplored planet because the Adventurer’s Frontier could use some more exotic hunting and fishing destinations in its roster. So if we were to be the party to set up the first beacon the the Seizarra Kuzaddra we’d make at least double the bonus we will for the total of our current camps. I don’t think any of us have a doubt in our minds what the logical choice is.

27 January 2365

Sparrow has agreed to take us to Siezara Kuzaddra, it seemed like the other Uht Mon were not happy about it as shortly after we made the agreement he rushed us out of the village; city, whatever it is. And for the first time since that day we arrived here hundreds, maybe even thousands of other Uht Mon were audience to our exodus. Filling the air with a gut turning symphony that we all agreed must have been intentionally done and in unison as a sort of off sending. Sparrow does not like to talk about it, and has seemed a bit off since our departure.

As I have taken a liking to the fellow; I assure you he is a fellow as he once assured me, I sought him out before I wrote this. He shook off any conversation and insisted I join the other humans at the cook fire. I have never before heard a hint of sarcasm in an Uht Mons speech and am left to wonder if he had picked it up from us humans?

Aside from his aversion to conversation I have also yet to see him eat, and am beginning to worry for my friend. Perhaps after some rest spirits will be higher.

28 January 2365

I hate this forest, I think I might hate this entire planet. If we get a camp set up to the north it will definitely be a fly in camp. Fuck this place. Hewlett says the damn Yarrow flies are carrying some kind of minor virus and the spray doesn’t seem to be working. I’ve had each bite turn into a boil that then bursts leaving open cysts, and only after the pain of cleaning the wound and applying the numbing cream and healing bandages does it finally start to ease.

However those little Yarrow assholes are persistent as the GRS collecting on every little scrap they can from us company men. While we’re out here crossing these planetary death traps so that the exact same big wigs who exploit us can come back and shoot a few exotic creatures. Have their trophies heads and hides shipped off to some taxidermist. And then hang the damn stuffed thing on their office wall to show what a big man they are. How impressive it must seem to those who don’t know. Without men and women like me and my comrades to clean and load the guns and line up their shots.

I won’t continue down that path, but whatever passes for a god out here bless Hewlett for his first aid skills. The man is a life saver. Patross has been having the time of his life in the forest as well. That stocky bald man finds each and every new plant species we come across as marvelous as the Oht Mon had once been to the lot of us. He’s begun to theorize on the biology of plant life here as well, though it sounds like nonsense to me.

“The Yarrow forests are devouring the detritus floor before it even breaks down.” Patross has raved, “hell it might even be devouring the weak and wounded as well.”

He seems to think it’s some sort of issue, we've all been on handfuls of under developed planets and I have never see a forest do much more than grow and provide homes and shelter for the local fauna. Regardless isn’t that the way most forests grow? Devouring the detritus and animal waste I mean.

29 January 2365

Five of us and Sparrow. Five of us and that great faceless, unknowable Sparrow. Though I suspect the fellow is in great despair he hasn’t spoken with any of us the same since our departure. If any make even the slightest request for reprieve from the journey Sparrow only insists we must remain on the move until the next camp. Offering nothing more or less, at the very least the few words he does speak brings me some comfort.

Our rations must also be dwindling as for lunch and supper today we were forced to dip into our sustenance bars. Those tasteless grits that while containing all the vitamins, protein and carbs our bodies could need, are lacking in every other aspect including flavor. Spoiled now by the pink succulent meat of the razor-jaw salmon and smooth white flaky flesh of the much smaller Allan Fish. Both of which had first seemed a minor offense to the taste buds in comparison to the ships canteen, would now be a welcome treat.

I suppose I should take this restless time laying inside my mesh tent; sweat covered and unable to escape the incessant buzzing fiends, to break down the remainder of our exploratory party. This way if we all end up getting eaten by the woods, some manager on the orbiting station that receives and eventually reviews this transmission will at least know whose grave to mark where.

I’ve introduced Patross and Hewlett already, our teams botanist and medical officer respectively. However I have not yet introduced myself, the very author of this works. Lundell, or Lundy for short. If you haven’t pieced it together by my in depth understanding of the species of Crius 9, I am the xeno-biologist. Though I haven’t practiced it in such a professional manner in decades, instead donning my corporate title of frontier wildlife specialist.

Our mechanic is Lina, a young woman who’s beautiful complexion and long brown hair lend well to her charming personality. I have watched her enamor more men and women than I can count, passing our years voyage out here from the Frontier’s edge moving from one partner to another. Though Lina has always been quite kind to me, I get the feeling that she trusts much less than the openness she expresses with her body might suggest. As far as her work is concerned I see her as one of the finest mechanics I’ve had the pleasure to work with.

Lastly but certainly not least there is Mirran, our anthropologist and linguist. The one who should be the closest to understanding the Uht Mon and their strange cultural practices and ways of living. However I have never had less in common with another person, and through my own interactions wonder if she is even capable of understanding another sentient being.

Each time I have had the displeasure of walking beside Mirran on this arduous hike she has ground away my patience with her ability to completely disregard anything I say. Instead giving me her own dissertation on whatever subject piques her fancy at that moment. Today it was her opinion on the Folly of late 21st century capitalism, and how early humans mistakes are still being paid for now. What a bunch of dog shit.

Speaking of dog shit, what I assume are some analog of wolves in these woods must be massive. I found a pile of dung that suggests a diet very heavy in high fat protein I believe to be sourced from the giant flightless birds Sparrow once described to me as living in the plains to the north. However as I mentioned above when I ask about the source of this excrement now, he does little more than mutter. One simple word Jhughar and with that he quickly continues moving. Part of me is curious to see one of these Jhughar, maybe they’d be a fine animal to hunt. But the other part tells me that it perhaps best we have not crossed one.

30 January 2365

Last night I awoke to an unsettling chorus from the woods around us, it was very reminiscent of the Uht Mon’s final dirge. Something about the similarity deeply disturbed me. Sleep only proceeded to elude me following, so I spent the remainder of the night with dark vision activated studying the creatures of the forests canopy. All of which I will describe in my official fauna report.

We had 6 beacons when we landed. Up until now we have been able to daisy chain them as down the Budlaz, so as not to leave their communication range. We have 2 remaining now as we approach the edge of the furthest comm range. When I contacted Grace explaining the situation and that Sparrow wasn’t giving us much for an idea of the journey’s actual timeline, she ordered us to leave comms and release a beacon when we arrive at the northern location. So that was all there was to it.

Our group has left the safety of the network and started crossing this unruly wasteland severing our last tie to the civilized world. Our last link to emergency evacuation. Something that ties a knot in my stomach, as I know the beacons take at least 3 hours to properly establish their low orbit. Leaving us incapable of properly relaying any signals including an SOS to the satellite before then.

The forest is so thick here that we are stuck to the animal paths, and the smell of Yarrow and dung has somehow grown even more nauseating. If we don’t reach the fields where we can see these giant birds and hopefully eat them, I think I might go insane. Sparrow is still his glum self and seems to be checking the rear of the group more and more often lately. I don’t know if the others have noticed, but I’ve made a point of not falling to the back of the hiking line since.

31 January 2365

I’ve gained quite the catalogue of curious species since our departure from the river main, many that I do not recall seeing in the planetary orientation wildlife logs. At this rate it is only a matter of time before I find one worthy of carrying my name. Equally I hope that I’m the first to upload most of them to the database when we do finally reach the Siezara Kuzaddra and send up that signal.

Creik, Allan and many other bastards beat us here, while the rest of us were cutting our teeth on far kinder planets. Sure we are only the third wave, but still I hope after the Siezara they consider us for us one of the top teams for a first wave assignment.

Sparrow says it is only one more day to the plains, and I pray the Yarrow flies let up once we’re free of the woods. From the looks of it, the upper reaches of the trees host large rotten black splotches that are teaming with larvae. I have deduced the disgusting creatures burrow their nests into the trunks themselves lending to the foul smell of the biome.

We came across the corpse of a large ungulate that was ravaged beyond recognition, though the damage to the remaining bones suggested a creature with a ferocious maw. I cannot say for certain that these etching are from teeth given the abnormal nature of all of Crius’ creatures. However in all my experience I don’t what else it possibly could be.

02 February 2365

  I wasn’t able to make an entry yesterday, I don't know how I’m even recording this now. They came down from the trees, their song burrowing deep into our minds freezing us in our skins. Such a horrid song from that terrifying pack of beings, their mangy pale yellow-green algae filled fur stinking of Yarrow and iron.  They pinned Sparrow down binding him with a woven red fiber rope. Stringing him up by his limbs, which only in contrast to these beasts appeared stringy.  Before I knew it I too was bound and strung up, my pack and clothes stripped from my back smashed and scattered. Yet my comm watch remained intact.

Looking about I saw the same happening to my associates. Though I am ashamed to admit it, the thought crossed my mind that it never occurred to me before what a nice body Mirran has. Though I suppose until now I had never seen her so exposed. Patross and Hewlett both didn’t stand a chance, the latter attempting to wrestle his captors and receiving what I hope is not a grievous head wound. Though even as I lay here in the pit next to him holding my hand to his head the blood continues to run through my fingers.

Lina and Mirran Weep together huddling close to cover themselves and keep warm, while Patross is still trying to find a way to climb out of this mud hole. However I know better, for every time he attempts the climb one of what I now presume are the Jhughar peer down from above. The guards eyes so similar to Sparrows own. But for the cold blue glaze to them, watching in what one can only imagine is amusement as the small human slides down bringing yet more soft mud into the pit I have now come to accept as my tomb. If my comm ever reaches signal range again, and someone hears this journal. I implore you to seek out the Jhughar and burn every last one of them down to soot, and then piss on that soot.

03 February 2365

Hewlett is dead, and this pit is not what it seems. Patross was right, the roots are all around us. They are fucking eating us alive, whether we know it or not. They are taking Hewlett, they are draining out the energy that remains in his body. I see the tendrils of root spreading from the ground to his skin and piercing. The fucking trees are trying to eat us alive. I can see their thick roots running in the walls where Patross once slid down, and feel them writhing beneath my feet even now. The Jhughar have fed us to the trees, and what of Sparrow? Where is my friend?

04 February 2365

I am starving, I cannot believe it has been nearly two days, the Jhughar fill the air with their song every night. I wish their damn song would end. Something please deafen these vile demons. What terrible God would allow such creatures to exist, the women are trying to find a way out now and Patross has slouched beside me. I presume he thinks he has joined me in resigning to death. But I have not resigned myself to death. No I will not lie down and let the trees take me.

Despite their incessant biting I have become numb to the pain their blisters inflict, my body raw and unrecognizable covered in sores and boils. Pain is not even the worse of their pestilence. Even now as I prepare this record I am engulfed by the endless itching feeling, my head swimming in the Yarrow’s vile toxins. I’ve dreamt of the ship, and of Sparrow’s village.

I dreamt of a peaceful lake I once knew on a far away planet. I can’t recall it’s name, but it is so beautiful. The water like a sheet of green glass, so clear I can see the pebbles, stones and large fish scattered across its bottom. Mountains rising from its far shore and kissing the sky above, the only disturbance the chirping and bustling of small birds and animals in the trees. Wildflowers ride the mellow breeze blending with the fresh waters own aroma. Lilies, honey suckle and lilacs filling my senses with their wonderful scents. Mish mashed over the heavens a beautiful purple scattered in blue, atmosphere overlaying all with the rich with the wonderfully fresh scent of ozone. If I could die anywhere it would be here, and I would truly be a happy man.

Journal of Mirran Zulastas

08 December 2364

Crius 9, what a vibrant sphere. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a planet so alive with both color and atmosphere. Exhibiting such biogeographical variance visible even now from space, I can’t help but be reminded of ancient flat screen shots of the earth itself. Our shuttle lands tomorrow in the settlement of Three Rivers, and I find myself anxious with anticipation.

While I am excited to get to spend some time studying one of the local sentient species documented by the first two waves. It would be an extraordinary feat to establish some sort of agreement. Maybe then we could utilize local hereditary knowledge to identify the optimal placement for lodging houses.

On a personal note, I was mildly disappointed to learn that Lundell and I have been assigned to the same unit. I suppose one can't pick and choose their teammates, but he made a pass at me early on in the journey and I turned him down. Now the man seems to scorn anything I say regardless if it’s friendly or not. Hopefully once we’re in the bush his demeanor towards me improves.

09 December 2364

I have been getting along with Lina, Hewlett and Patross just fine. Yet that bit of extra tension between Lundell and myself remains. We landed today and have checked into a place called Ulysses Inn, a small modular building that's outter walls consist of reinforced solar panels insulated with a special kind of water supply system. It processes H2O from the ambient atmosphere itself. Using the resulting water both for cooling, and after a reverse osmosis process drinking.

Paid for on the company’s dime, the rooms are quaint but cozy with their adjustable wall-panes and minimalist design. I have quickly come to appreciate the small but comfortable floating bed feeling almost weightless as it suspends me now. Personal washrooms, showers and even a mini kitchen, are tucked next to the entry. Each able to retract into that utility wall at the user’s request. Any of the three other walls able to be used as a flat screen device. Surprisingly the rooms hologram projector is quite realistic as well, with little to no static coming through on the images.

To say three Rivers is an interesting city would be an understatement, if you were to ask me to place it anywhere in history though it certainly wouldn’t be the 24th century. Closer to some bastardized cross between the 19th and 23rd. All the glimmering monolith buildings intermingling with perfectly crafted wooden cabins, storefronts and the forest itself. Walking among the humans breathing the same air presumably, a myriad of strange species, I swore I heard some speaking our Galactic language even. Seeing all this fills me with the hope of finding something truly special out here.

The streets merely dirt paths trodden between buildings and the businesses themselves ran by first and second wavers now retired from the trails. Hard to believe that the first waves arrival was already 60 years ago. Some of the people I’m meeting are second generation Criussian, yet there isn’t even a complete map of this place. Nor a dictionary started for any of the native species language, there is much work to do.

On an unrelated note this whole time dilation thing is really putting me through the wringer. Those smaller week or month trips inside the Galactic Common would only account to an extra couple months, at most a year for those back home. But in that year of travel for our trip out here to Crius 9, nearly 30 have passed everywhere else.

When we finally reached a slow enough speed last month that I was able to call my mother, I could hardly recognize her in that floating hologram. Time has waged war on those sharp features. Bringing out the edges of her boney face and carving trenches of laugh lines into cheeks and forehead. Its sad to see the deteriorating state of one you love, but somehow comforting to know that she lives a happy life. I hope I can make it back home to Silas to see her one last time though, because at 180 she is beyond pushing the edge of her generations age expectancy.

10 December 2364

We’ve procured our personal crawler and Lina seems happy enough with everything, she says the metallic beast is well equipped for most terrain as well as some amphibious ventures. Though it likely won’t be able to enter the thickest sections of the woods with its tread and the 8 spider like limbs that are folded over its back like a shell.

Looking over Lina’s shoulders from the storage bay while she is at the controls, I am able to see out from quite a height. Our nose pointing towards the rivers forks giving me a picturesque view of the point where the first 2 rivers rushing waters collide. Spuming a white froth on the rocks there that mists in the air. Watching the violent display I can’t help but wonder what awaits out in the wilderness, if only Lundell wasn’t the one in charge.

Our course has been decided as well, a carrier will drop us to the northwest on the banks of a river known as Budlaz Kuzaddra. According to the orbital data it snakes a thousand kilometers to the North and twice that further west, with only the southern third having been explored previously. Studying the maps I’ve identified hundreds of tributaries, and multiple clearings I believe to be settlements. Within a few months we should have all of the beacons deployed and many ideal locations for lodges.

After my journal entry last night Lina convinced me to join her at the local watering hole, and we had some good conversation. Prying my gaze away from the endless droll of reviewing old holos was some work. Though I was grateful to her for allowing me the peace to really appreciate the star spangled sky, with that small strip of the Milky Way tearing a magnificent line through it’s center. Aside from the buzzing of insects I haven’t heard very much in the way of nature sounds. Perhaps our alien presence in this area has startled away the local animals?

11 December 2364

What a ride. I’ve been up in water birds before but never in a crawler suspended below a carrier, now that was something else. Caring not for the terrain the woods grow thickly here as to block a view within their canopy. Regardless of that it is evident there is a plethora of life on Crius 9. Once we hit about the 100 kilometer mark from Three Rivers the scenery nearly brought me to tears with its beauty. Rolling hills and valleys nestled with lakes and great rivers carving and shaping the land, raising some feeling I have not felt since I was but a girl in my chest. That great inspiring awe that charges you with a feeling that you are truly on top of the world.

I was able to convince the party to request a landing near what I hope is a Uht Mon village. From my readings I’ve deduced the Uht Mon are quite the unique group, and one of the few to have peaceful interactions with humans. Though none of their language has been recorded as far as my research has shown. Mind you I have a heap of data yet to review, since we hit slowspeed and the last 30 years of transmissions came through I’ve acquired quite the backlog of data. I took hard copies on my device of a few documents that especially interest me, one in particular is another journal like this one I write now. Written by Kopling Cheviyani a genius anthropologist who arrived with the second wave. Prime contributor to the new data on the Uht Mon culture that I’ve read and I believe his own words will unveil great insights into their psychology and practices.

We have established our first camp, releasing the beacon almost immediately after the carrier was clear on its way back to Three Rivers. Unfortunately the area wasn’t inhabited, however it is the perfect place for a fishing lodge. Lina joked with me at one point that the fish did not seem to want to stay in the water the amount they were jumping. However I think it is likely due to the large flies that are attracted to the nose of the crawler as it sits out on the waters banks. It’s spider legs deployed to hold the chassis up and keep us safe from any intrusion in the night.

With all these luxuries it doesn’t feel like we’re in the forest quite yet. It’s surprising how spacious this crawler is, my current cabin being equal to the one I was assigned at the modular inn. With a little work and luck we should be able to keep it running for the duration of our expedition, that will make my life significantly easier. Might not even need the hard files if we stay inside the beacons range as well, and this crawlers signal amplifier sure helps with that too.

12 Dec 2364

  We ventured into the forest on foot today, Lundell seems to think of every animal as potential prey in one of his hunting expeditions. So much so that I have developed a bit of a fear, it is my hopes that at the sighting of the first Uht Mon he doesn’t declare it a target species. Hopefully the few that Cheviyani claims to have taught managed to spread our language a bit further, that way we can verify their sentience to this buffoon Lundell before he goes starting a genocide.

I myself was intrigued by the strangeness of everything we encountered. From the oddly colored almost fang shaped coiling flowers and foliage of some of the smaller plants, to the strands of fibrous purple and red leaves that some of the trees grew in drapes from their heights. Crawling with strange insects and some fuzzy with what I have surmised is a web of sorts.

We’ve encountered a few tracks of larger species and Lundell listed off a series of nonsensical names like Wilfred’s Wallaby. I assume each to be some sort of already identified animal’s tracks and none have seemed to concern the man as of yet. Though it can’t be said if that is due to his arrogant nature, or if there was indeed no threat to our lives.

13 Dec 2364

I stayed back today to review some more data and work on what I hope to be my magnum opus the Galactic Compendium of Extant Species. So far I have managed to collect most of the species and variations found throughout the Galactic Common, however these far reaching worlds seem to have more unique species in one region than whole terraformed planetoids do. In completing this work I’ve found many overlaps in planetary gene pools, such as the Midgran Sparrow and the Eldrin Sparrow. Both of which are no longer even Sparrows in the traditional sense but rather more of a Hawk due to their size and diet.

14 Dec 2364

I stayed back to work on the Compendium further today, there still has been no word of sighting any assigns of other intelligent life in the woods.

15 Dec 2364

This evening I found myself sitting along the shoreline with Lina fishing the good old sporting way, with a hook and reel. We pulled about a dozen fish each in the couple hours we were sitting there. Lina was able to get the crawler to perform inspections on each of the species we pulled out, and all passed tests for human consumption. Lundell had even shown a bit of gratitude when he saw the filets.

16 Dec 2364

Sunsets here are mesmerizing displays. With violets, reds and yellows all mingling together so beautifully. I’m glad I went for the afternoons hike, though I am sad to say there is still no progress within my own field. Looking at the areas Lundell and the others have marked on the maps it seems likely that we’ll move on in a day or two, when they’ve finish scouting and documenting the area.

17 Dec 2364

Another day has passed, though faster than I could have imagined. I don’t feel like I got a lot done today, however everyone has agreed to moving on down the river tomorrow. Based on satellite imaging it looks like there is another ideal location for a lodge a hundred or so kilometers down the river.

18 Dec 2364

  Holy crap, the Budlaz Kuzaddra can be quite aggressive. Lina exclaimed something around those lines when we reached 150 kilometers an hour riding the tumultuous currents, though I suspect we got going much faster. Not long after we departed it became clear that we were slowly descending into a  deep canyon, gaining speed as the rapids began sending us ricocheting between the rocks and cliff face. Reflecting back the rusty tones of the stone on the water to make it look like roiling frothing blood on the monitors.

I don’t know how Lina managed but she gained control and was able to at least keep us from taking on water. In the heat of things we were unable to safely latch onto the rock face anywhere near the clearing we had originally hoped to send up the next beacon from. Instead rocketing our way out of the canyon and onto a serene Lake. Luckily we beached and the crawler hadn’t taken too much damage.

After the dizzying, jarring and frankly unsettling ride I finally have a moment to relax and gain my legs again. Standing on the shore looking back to the beautiful red stone walls in the distance. Appreciating the contrast with the lush green of the Lake sides, I can’t help but lean to one side at any given moment. Nausea twisting my insides when I force myself still for too long, or move in just the wrong way. Scopolamine patches are supposed to help with this and Hewlett slapped one on me, but he did say that it’s usually more beneficial before inducing motion sickness not after. Either way I think I’m going to go lay down now. I won’t make this mistake twice.

19 Dec 2364

I awoke this morning to the loud pelting of rain on the ships hull and the sweet scent of petrichor invading the confines of my room. Finding Lina and the others were up before me and had gone about preparing a dining area, under an awning that extended 5 feet from the back of the crawler. A pot of hot coffee greeted me there next to some steamed fish and poached eggs, cooked to perfection by Hewlett. Everything was delicious, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt upon realizing; through Lundell’s careless words, that it was only coincidence there was enough left for me. I guess you can’t always expect others to be looking out for one another, though I did think we were a team. I mean I helped catch that fish.

29 Dec 2364

It was the 20th of December, day two of the unbroken rain. As I look back on it, I am picturing the deluge as clear sheets of obscuring water from my seat under the awning. I awoke earlier that day and joined the rest of the crew for breakfast. Conversation was friendly enough for the duration, however afterwards the men wished to sit around and share a few cups of coffee. Lundell talking about having stowed a bottle of whisky for such an occasion.

Something Lina found rather humorous, having remarked the men were being scared of a little water. Before I knew it I found myself stripping down in the loading bay and donning a grey-blue skinsuit alongside my new friend. The suits waterproof membrane closing on my entire body as I took a step inside. Air filtration systems in the layers of its gelatinous form working alongside an oxygenation node to fill my nostrils with the oh so familiar scent of plastics and ozone. Two fools setting out on what was meant to be a short walk to explore the nearby extraterrestrial lakeside.

One thing that really imprinted itself on me was how even in the suit, I could feel the chill of the Criussian rain as it enveloped us. Lina and I alone venturing further and further from the blurry glow emitted by the open bay door and towards the swelling waters edgei

I was surprised how little of the black sand beach remained, and even more so by the large number of arthropods that scampered away under each sinking footfall. Letting their presence be known by their tiny prickling and prodding legs, pushing little points of pressure all over my ankles and feet. Waiting as if to welcome us to the neighborhood further down the beach was a large dark blob, it’s shadowy form easily mistaken for a boulder or driftwood at first glance.

Hell I would have not even pegged it as a living thing had it not come to meet us on land, winding me while taking me off my feet easily. Quickly dragging me back into the depths behind its weight. Lina jumped to action before it had the chance to submerge, saving my life by extending a small cutting laser into its neck. As it’s flesh sizzled it released a nauseating damp moldy scent , turning my stomach nearly as much as the shock of the wound had.

It's here that things start to really get hazy for me, I remember her giving me CPR briefly on land. Flashes of lights I believe were from the crawler bobbing in the distance, and I remember waking on and off in the med bay with Patross, Hewlett or Lina by my side. Once even Lundell had been here, though I think that might have been dreamt up in the delirium.

My lower right thigh is sore. Raw pink skin marking it in the pattern of the creatures jaw, where three rows of teeth had evidently separated a good amount of flesh from my leg. Hewlett told me the bay surgeon almost had to amputate and regrow the limb. He also added it will be a couple more days before I can walk again, and a month or so before its gone completely back to normal. I can’t help but get the feeling Hewlett thinks my injury was due to my own indiscretion based on his hard demeanor. I have to say that I agree, and won’t be making the mistake of underestimating any planets dangers again.

Lina came by after Hewlett had left and filled me in on some more of the time I missed. We’re on our third beacon now and have made contact with an Uht Mon tribe and moved the crawler to their settlement. Ironically to my dismay it seems out of the few who speak our Galactic English, one has formed some kind of bond with Lundell. I know it is a good thing Lundell didn’t just shoot the Uht Mon on site, but it would be nice if one of the more intelligent team members would have had that same connection in my absence.

30 December 2364

I managed to go for a walk today with the aid of a cane, making my way through the loading bay to steal a view of the obscure village outside. To my chagrin Hewlett intercepted me on the ramp turning me back to the bed in the medical bay, and proceeding to scold me for disobeying his instructions. I can’t believe what an ass the man can be at times.

31 December 2364

Another year over. After a month on this planet I have to say I miss the ship with its orderly parks and villages full of people. With only these three as company, and what feels like Lina offering any real semblance of friendship. I yearn for socialization. Hewlett agreed to let me out in the village tomorrow, as long as he can accompany me to ensure I don’t injure myself. Hopefully that helps me cheer up a bit.

01 Jan 2365

Incredible, this entire village is absolutely incredible. I had the pleasure of meeting two other Uht Mon, who like Lundell’s friend Sparrow speak Galactic English. With their strange anatomy, preferring to crawl on all fours despite their ability to stand upright. Even stranger than that though is their lack of facial features, with only eyes on their heads. I was mentally prepared by Cheviyani’s journal for their unique forms, however I still could not help but be shocked.

02 Jan 2365

Ulam and Nierali have been most gracious in introducing Hewlett and I to various members of their village. Ulam disclosed that she is actually the eldest member of her family line at 45 years old, and had been friends of my first wave predecessor Cheviyani near the end of his career. It seems he left a lasting impact on her as she spreads his teachings within the tribe, and encourages all of her descendants to practice Galactic English. Both Sparrow and Nierali being Ulam’s grandchildren are the only two of their tribe who actually came to understand English in a functional way.

Much like his grandmother, Nierali is a wonderful teacher. I’m told he has been chosen for some greater purpose. A purpose that they both would only vaguely elude to as just that, something greater. While the Uht Mon appear to be very civilized, there is something in their unwillingness to discuss Nierali’s fate that makes me suspect other potential practices. Maybe even similar to those fatal ones we humans once took part in, long ago at the dawn of humankind.

There is so much to write about, but I’ll leave it at this. If what Ulam and Nierali say is true, each of these Uht Mon tribes are so diverse with a colorful cultural history that expands at least a few centuries, intermingling with many other sentient lifeforms that we have not even begun to understand.

03 Jan 2365

My leg was too sore to explore the village again today, however Ulam has spoken with the other elders and gained permission for Sparrow to accompany our expedition as a guide. Lundell is beyond thrilled with this and I have to say I am as well, maybe during our travels I too will have a better chance to get to know Sparrow. For up until this point he has been kept busy with Lundell, touring the man around his own hunting grounds I would think.

04 Jan 2365

  Maybe I pushed it too hard the other day, my leg is killing me. Each movement lighting up the local nerves with excruciating pain. I don’t think I can write much more for today.

05 Jan 2365

Hewlett has begun examining my leg more often again, it makes me feel a little uncomfortable. He hasn’t said anything to me about it, but the pain has caused me to pass out on multiple occasions. Now waxing and waning throughout the day.

15 Jan 2365

I can barely keep my mind in a single fucking piece. As I write this, my senses are invaded by a stench far worse than imaginable. It makes my guts churn.

18 Jan 2365

Is the nightmare finally over? I awoke today, cold sweat broken for the first time in what feels like an eternity. The air smells rotten here, and I can’t help but feel a bit nauseous from it. Hewlett came around about an hour after I remember waking, a strange cylindrical vessel held in his hands. Inside of it a roughly five inch floating mass, and what a strange multi-headed worm floated there in the sickly pale liquid. Reminiscent of the ancient Greek’s Hydra. Each of the necks ended in a nightmarish tangle of thin dark threads, shimmering like the little sharp edges they must be when the light hits them just right.

I’m glad I was sitting for what he said next, that creature was inside me. With many more breeding and spreading like a disease, though none of the size nor level of development of this specimen. My skin crawls at the thought, and I have insisted on seeing some evidence they were no longer present. Hewlett explained how difficult they are to actually identify and how it wasn’t until Sparrow heard about the nature of my incident that they became aware of the parasitic infection. That they were able to keep me in a kresh and experiment to find a cure compatible with our bodies. As these helminth don’t seem to have the same neurological impact on the Uht Mon or other local fauna that they do on us humans.

19 Jan 2365

Lina came and had lunch with me today, I think I can almost get up and out of bed again. It will feel wonderful to once again participate in the exploration. I can’t help feeling a mix of disdain and relief learning this terrible stench I’ve been experiencing since I first woke is not a side effect of the parasites. No rather it has something to do with the region itself. Yarrow trees they say.

20 Jan 2365

Oh god, we’ve begun moving. I never noticed the motion so much the journey’s first leg, it is beyond nauseating. And with each painkiller I take it only worsens.

21 Jan 2365

  We’ve deployed our fourth beacon now just outside of Chekel as I have been informed Sparrow has named the place repetitively. Lina thought it was important for me to know that.

I am hoping Hewlett lets me out of this hell hole of a sick bay for an hour or two tomorrow. Yet somehow I can’t help but feel we will be calling in a pickup before I have the chance to truly learn about this planet forsthand.

22 Jan 2365

In the middle of the night I awoke to a strange cry, it chilled me down to my bone. Fortunately Hewlett either was not awoken by it, or did not see my shadow crossing his doorway as I took up my cane and crept from the infirmary.

I had to open the bay door to catch a glimpse of the surroundings. I can’t believe Lina didn't tell me, this is a goddamn city. Twice the size of Three Rivers at least. Perched atop the flat of a gigantic boulder that offers a segmented view of a vast valley. Throughout other such stone monuments line the grounds. Each carved with grooves and niches, giving the impression of ramps, doors and windows. Even more amazing painted on the front of many of these structures are great reliefs. In some of the walls niches soft blue lights glow, illuminating the paint more clearly. Though its source I can’t quite make out at this distance, but doesn’t have the flicker or glow of fire.

Chekel the city of the Uht Mon.

23 January 2365

Finally I can leave this room, having Hewlett keep me on bedrest yesterday was unbearable after my midnight excursion to the loading bay. Lina had what appeared to be half the crawler disassembled on the rock face, all of the metal components so out of place in contrast to this almost Neolithic cave city.

Oh how wrong that assumption was of me, this is no natural boulder field. Not a large chunk of it at the very least. One of the locals whom has some relation to Sparrow; Linus I will call them as it is the closest approximation I can manage, gladly explained the history of Chekel. It reaches back to a time before the their own peoples settlement. Despite little being known about the first builders Linus was able to point out some subtle differences between the structures as we walked.

  Most notable of the differences being a more precise cut to the corners and flats, eroded by time to give them smooth rounded edges. While the boulders brought in and carved by the Uht Mon themselves were of a lot rougher craft. Yet they found beauty in all the rugged features left behind by their primitive tools, allowing it to inform the artwork that cover the walls. Capturing unimaginable frescos of things which I began to interpret as far beyond their imaginations, and technological prowess. Paintings of great towers of ivory on backgrounds of rolling rainbow fields spotted with trees of as many colors as the grains below. Others of strange creatures and beings that Linus gladly named for me in unintelligibly complicated phonetics that I am embarrassed to attempt myself.

The Kluryghlh, Mrchuoi, Jaghur, Luthoj, Minnrest, Ulham and Uhtar. Those and many more, though even now as I write them I can’t help thinking Kluryghlh isn’t an appropriate approximation of the species name.

24 January 2365

  Foul air blows in from the North, Sparrow gave me more context for this, it is due to what we call the Yarrow tree. A foul smelling conifer family that grows in the Boreal and Temperate Forests of Crius 9. Linus invited his cousin along with us this day and I was pleased to get to know Sparrow a little better. His true name is Sprarholichramoun which is honestly one of the easier Uht Mon names, however I think he has taken a liking to the Human name Lundell has given him. I learnt more than I could have imagined of our guide, it turns out he is one of the more pioneering of his species. While at only 16 years of age he has gone far beyond the reaches of Uht Mon territory. Far north to the land of Siezara and west to that of Nuranamos. Each of these areas with even stranger sounding terrestrials than the Uht Mon. I’ve deduced that both are the name of rivers. Likewise I learnt that Chelek is considered the gem of the Budlaz, and from pursuing that line of thought further that the Uht Mon value gems.

After talking with both our Linus and Sparrow further on the subject of valuables, I found it was quite as expected with a sedentary peoples. The city is host to multiple pigment and artisan markets with gems and other stones used as currency in trading . Whether the use of currency is a result of human influence or not, it is safe to say they have always held gemstones and other strange or rare stones in high regard. I find it quite interesting and would like to learn more of what role trade plays in their society.

25 January 2365

Well I am saddened to say Lundell has located a firearms market, making it evident that despite multiple regulatory motions prohibiting the dispersal of weapons or dangerous technologies and concepts. Yet corruption always finds a way.

26 January 2365

I’ve begun recording and transmitting the murals from the city to my storage module aboard the satellite. Absolutely fascinating, for me to even try and describe the views portrayed would not even do them justice. Some of the simpler designs implementing single tone silhouettes of great wilderness scenes featuring all sorts of unique plants and animals of unimaginable anatomy. A leg bending the wrong way here another with too many legs altogether giving spiders a run for their money. Others more apparently Uht Mon or other somewhat recognizable creatures. Even now and then the silhouette of a human has been added.

Journal of Mirran Zulastas pt. 2

27 January 2365

  In a sudden turn of events we departed Chekel midday. Lundell ordered Lina leave behind the Crawler and bring only the necessities. Our remaining beacons, pop-up tents, rations and other survival basics. To say Lina was furious is an understatement. As I understand it Adventurer’s Frontier has a stipulation in their contract holding the crew mechanic responsible for returning all equipment, and in failing to do so she will sacrifice a hefty chunk of her pay. I don’t know why the hell Lundell is so insistent on moving on anyway. She said it would only be a week or so to rebuild the gyroscopic balance that had failed.

Sparrow whispered to me as legions of Uht Mon cleared a parade way for us. Saying they were siinging us out with a multi-tonal ritual dirge. That haunting slow melody clawed at the primal instincts of my amygdala putting my head on a swivel.

A song of long ago in the time of Sparrow’s distant ancestors. When the north lands were spoken of in fear, the creatures and denizens of the Yarrow woods were said to be akin to demons, kobolds and goblins from our folklore. Twisted lurkers in the trees who prey on lone travelers and those weak of spirit late in the evening. This song then is to ward off the evil Yarrow spirits and give us protection. Our guide doesn’t put much weight in the superstition himself though, claiming on his many trips north to Seizaras Kuzzadra he had never once encountered such evil spirits, though there are dangerous predators. Lets hope we don’t meet any of them.

We hiked 6 hours into the night before we reached a place suitable to rest. Sparrow insisting we make camp before the true Forest begins, so as to avoid too many days in the foul thickets. My leg is killing me though it was doing a lot better at the beginning of the hike. I will have to find a walking stick for tomorrow before I fall asleep.

28 January 2365

Hewlett and Lundell refuse to do so but the rest of us have rubbed the oil of the Yarrow wood into our skin. It stinks worse than the septic system of a long haul star ship but has done wonders at keeping the devil flies off of us. I opted out at first as well, but after a few dozen insect bites gladly accepted the balm from our guide.

29 January 2365

Somehow Lundell ended up hiking in tandem with me today, his lousy logic leaves me reeling. First I brought up how we should have waited for the crawler so as not to put so much of Lina’s pay on the line, and next thing I know we were arguing about old style capitalism and economy. I don’t know how he managed to completely downplay her loss with comparisons to the broken pay scale of the early 21st century. In which the backs of the workers were constantly broken for the profit of the corporation. Even in the most well off of places. With food, shelter and sometimes even water being the workers responsibility while the company only need pay them enough to survive.

That old fashion thinking so primitive in comparison to the modern Corporate machine. A machine in which the company takes responsibility for those employed. Providing all necessities and more to us who sign away our lives, even cooks aboard the satellites have all they need. Their pay only there to augment their ability to enjoy hobbies, pastimes and intrigues. Some; myself included, who need only their brain and the archives to stay happy, send it all back to family to allow them to travel and enjoy their own time. The young before they too sign on with some corporate body and the old before their internal clock runs out. Maybe one day I’ll be in the same place as my own mother, a 500 year old, with a 200 hundred year old daughter of my own. Pitying me that technology just wasn’t there to preserve me soon enough.

30 January 2365

What the fuck is happening. I awoke to a melancholy harmony echoing in and out of the forest surrounding our small clearing, exiting my tent and finding Sparrow circling the camp. Approaching him I went to speak but was preemptively silenced by a chopping hand signal indicating to keep silent. Pointing me back to the tents and resuming his sentry of the camps perimeter he said not a word.

Nor did Sparrow speak of it this morning when the rest of the party awoke. Though it was evident that like myself the others had been awoken by the strange howling dirge of the woods. Goosebumps still prickle my skin when I think of it now, with the sun still up and my leg sore and aching from the journey.

Once or twice I slowed so much that they unknowingly left me behind, Hewlett or Lina only realizing minutes later and waiting for me up the path. Once I even stood for a few moments leaning on one of the foul Yew trees, and thought I heard a rustling in the bushes above me that spurred me to move faster than I knew I could at the moment. Something about the demonic legends that Sparrow shared with me in the beginning of our journey made me nervous of any tree inhabiting predators.

31 January 2365

I don’t think I’m going to make it. This pain is unbearable. At least I can take comfort in knowing Lundell may not either. The headstrong fool still refuses the Yarrow Oil Balm, but despite looking like a hemorrhoid ridden dogs anus he is in high spirits. Picking through animal dung and making more noise than a brooding ape when the group encountered the emaciated remains of some great beast. One benefit of his constant need to stop is it keeps the group within sight most instances. I feel like I would be a lot more enthused myself if not for the constant ache in my leg.

01 February 2365

Help… S.OS… some- trigger the system to flag this, please save us. I don’t know if by some miracle a fly by will catch this entry, but if it… no it can’t. tell my mom I loved her. 39.86

Select entries from the Journal of Patross Collins

NOTE FROM AUDITOR LAUDELLE : I have omitted segments of Patross Collins personal journal as they only reiterate information presented thus far by both Mirran and Lundell's journals.

09 Dec 2364

Absolutely breath taking. Almun, Lucius and Padovi’s documents while extremely informative on the cycles of this planets ecosystems, failed to capture the rugged beauty of this wild land. Rife with wonderfully drawn parallels between the plant species of the MegaTerra. They had mostly skirted the phytoplankton and edibles the locals seem so fond of. Instead gorging straight into the trees and shrubs of the lower mainland. Fucking hairy you come

What a silly mistake. I wish we could have landed at the mountains base and made our way east from there. Each moment I spend writing this is another I could be in the field documenting it all.

Lundy that old bag of bones seems excited enough as well, though he’s been a bit sour lately. Think he might be off his game these days, looks like the whole trip out here has been a dry spell for the man. Everyone else seems to be in good enough moods however, and was I ever glad to see Lina is our mechanic as well. We spent more than a few starry nights together on the journey over, and I feel we have a fairly good friendship.

Three Rivers is your standard expedition city, advanced enough to have all the modern amenities. Only wrapped up in a rustic bow, the glaring 19th and 20th century influences obvious in not only the structures but the manner of the people as well. I pulled Hew and Lundy out for a few drinks and we ended up at a pool table. By the stars leave it to a place like this to have that old game, it took me back 10 years to my first deployment to Murrayfield on Heracles 4. Back when I was only a lad of 17.

20 Dec 2364

I’m afraid there was a terrible accident, but everything will be fine. On another note Lina and I got into a bit of an argument this morning. I cracked a joke about how she probably cannot wait until we are back on the ship, and finally rid of me. She clearly cares more than I expected, I didn’t think she’d come to enjoy my company quite that much.

A while later with things yet unresolved, we were all sitting outside around one of those small floating tables. The remnants of our hardy breakfast strewn atop its surface. After a bit of awkward tension; and heated words between Lina and Lundy, I watched both Lina and Mirran's silhouettes first distort and then dissipate beyond our world. Far past the cascading waterfall produced by our crawlers awning.

Within an hour of their departure the two were back, Mirran held in Lina’s arms. Globules of her blood suspended on and in both of their skinsuit membranes. Mirran’s right leg was an absolute mess, the suit had begun to tourniquet her leg. However strips of muscle and fat dangle from a shattered bone. Her upper thigh was in fairly rough shape as well, but it was only evidenced through the large spot of blood rhythmically sweating out of the membrane with each beat of her heart.

I don’t know if I’ll sleep tonight, I know it’s truly not my fault. I just can’t help wondering if I hadn’t made that quip at Lina this morning, would the two have stayed in the safety of the group? Would Mirran’s leg not now be half amputated, growing anew?

24 Dec 2364

What a spectacular site, these Uht Mon folks sure do have quite a collection of natural gardens. Dozens of berries, grains, maize likes and nuts galore. They also grow small groves of these stinking trees, a species that matches very closely one documented by my colleague Padovi. Yarrow trees he had named them, for the bunches of flowers they grow in the dry season resembling those of Achillea Millefolium. Not this season it seems, but the smell clearly isn’t a product of said flowers.

I was fortunate enough to have a few moments to speak with one of those few Uht Mon who have tamed the galactic tongue. Offering a little context on the trees purpose. As it turns out there is a compound in its rosin disrupts the sensing organs of insects, causing them to instinctively avoid the object. Which I thought is strange; and my host found comical, as it is from the wounds in the trees left by flies spawning that the sap flows. Though perhaps that is the very reason they lay their eggs in the trees? I can only speculate, for that we'd have to bring an entomologist in.

20 January 2365

This has been a very unfortunate journey, for how near the city Sparrow had claimed we were. The crawler is almost scrap metal and I’ve had about enough of this uncomfortable transport. Being tossed about as the chassis sways. Blasted internal mechanisms that normally hold us level grinding, and releasing unsettling crunch coming often enough to hammer analogical nails into our skulls with each crack.

This place, Chekel is certainly not underwhelming, but I’m having trouble concentrating or enjoying it as much as I should. Lina is beyond stressed, spending all of her time working on the crawler. Taking any left over aggression out on me. I fear the feeling is contagious, as I’ve begun to think quite negatively as well.

26 January 2365

Mirran is happily back to work finally looking a lot better too. Wholly recovered from those terrifying parasites. I am glad that Hewlett has managed to devise a vaccine of sorts. The doctor claims should another of us contract the nasty helminths, our bodies will release trace enzymes to poison them. I do not know how it all works, but Hewlett says aside from some fluctuation in body temperature and the shits we probably will not even know we are sick.

I’ve met an Uht Mon fellow, I won’t dare attempt their name or names I’m not sure. However for the sake of this I'll call them the woodsman. The woodsman is fairly well versed in Galactic Common, as well as an avid outdoorsman. We only spoke for an hour or so this afternoon, but I gleaned as much knowledge as I could on their local flora. What I found most interesting is an area to the north in which he describes even more wild plants than the Yarrow, James Pine and Bramble Branch that seem more common around the Budlaz Kuzaddra.

Part 2 : Inspectors Tale

5 – Chevyana Space Elevator

Pushing his fingers against the wrinkles that covered his forehead the middle aged man let out an exasperated sigh. Flourishing with his off hand in a wave that encompassed a set of three windows floating in augmented space, each containing a member of exploratory team 13’s journal. All closing in that singular motion, the man shook his head, opening Lundell's file once again.

“If I could die here, I would be a happy man.” The Inspector’s brow furrowed, “I hope you got your wish and died in that delusional state you crazy bastard.”

To be continued...