Crew Roster
Command - Avir
Executive Officer - Keshet
Biologist - Gefen
Geologist - Noga
Systems Specialist - Hadar
Cultural Expert - Guillaume Pherigo
Recording One: Atmospheric Entry
The crackling rumble of a large chemical engine fills the interior space of a cramped shuttle. The camera feed denotes this is taken from the Commander of this impromptu expedition, named Avir. Avir is a Serf, as are most of the others. They all share the characteristic pale complexion and pleasant, pretty features set on lithe and athletic builds.
The exception is Guillaume Pherigo, a man sitting in the rear of the shuttle and visible only when Avir turns her head, as she does now. He does not look comfortable, or happy.
“Brace, all of you. Aphrah says a storm is forming just as we’re coming in over Archipelago-3. We will try to land as soon as we determine if it is safe.” The noise of Avir’s voice comes crackling through everyone’s shared comms, prompting a nervous jump from Pherigo in the back.
The camera turns back to the viewport. There is nothing to see except the dancing flames of an alien atmosphere as it burns itself against the shuttle. When they and the violent shaking of entry cease, it is utterly quiet. Outside, the world is only dark clouds, a darker void than the space above.
Recording Two: Exploring a House
The camera begins recording again. Heads-up-display elements captured in the recording indicate this is Commander Avir once again. She is standing in front of a dimly lit wooden door set into a small cottage. The building is visibly old, vines creeping down windows and a layer of dirt and grime building up around its foundations.
“I don’t know what it is. The words.” The voice comes through over Avir’s interior suit speakers, tinny and with some fuzzy interference from the storm still passing overhead. Avir wipes rain off her visor and glances back at the speaker.
Guillaume Pherigo is easily identifiable, taller and broader than the Serfs. He waves his hand up at the words carved into the frame above the door.
“Nothing recognizable. Same as all the others. I’m going in. There will be more identifiable material culture inside, I think. People’s belongings and such, or records.” The man begins moving towards the door, past Avir without ever really looking at her. He goes in, and Avir follows.
For half an hour, Avir combs through the house. It is filled with the things one expects of a human home. Pots and pans in the kitchen, one big cast iron frying pan with a stylized maker’s mark on the bottom: a tall lighthouse atop a hill. Cabinets hold plates, bowls, paper bags full of rice, an old tin of coffee beans, and more. Avir spends a good few minutes staring in confusion at a large metal box, its top surface covered in symmetric lines of metal and studded with four protrusions of unknown purpose. She discovers that it can be opened by pulling the handle on the front, giving access to a large interior space with racks inside.
“It is a gas-fired oven. Old Earther tech. Don’t know why they’d use that though.” Says Pherigo, standing in the kitchen doorway and staring at the metal box. Avir looks at him and back at the oven, shaking her head.
“Why? They seem pre-electric. Would that not make sense?” Avir’s words are cold and short. Pherigo shakes his head.
“They weren’t. They hide it well. But these people did benefit from the technology present here. I found a power supply box in the attic; still working even. It receives wirelessly-transmitted power from the atmosphere, I don’t know the source beyond that. There is active infrastructure here, though. Certainly.”
“Then that is what we look for next. We are done here. Tell Keshet to get the truck ready to take us back to the ship.” Avir orders.
“You don’t wanna look around more?”
“No. You have your order.”
Pherigo remains standing there, finally making eye contact with the Serf.
“I’m going to stop and check the temple building one more time on the way back. Just 10 minutes.” He says, though there is no sound of demand or irritation in his voice. Avir nods, and he departs.
Avir remains there and visits the cottage’s central living space, finding a fireplace with a large, soft couch set a few feet away. This world’s air is mostly hydrogen, with just under 5% of it being oxygen. Enough for a Serf to breathe with, for a short while. She cracks the helmet seal and lifts it off, holding it in her lap and staring at the empty fire.
“I fear you will kill me, Qara Göl. Why do I burn, in my dreams here?” Avir asks the question of the empty fireplace. A spark ignites in the old fireplace, Avir gasps, and the recording ends.
Recordings Three to Six
These are scattered and corrupted videos, likely recorded over the course of multiple days or even weeks. Identifying when events happened grows difficult, however, as the timestamps embedded within the data become increasingly aberrant and out of logical order.
Event 1
Stuttering images and broken sound from the interior of a tracked ground vehicle moving at high speed through dense forest. Trees are violently shoved aside, branches scraping over the armored viewport. Avir is holding tight to a Venusian model of shotgun on her lap, ready to swing it out the door or window as if fearing combat. Rain pounds against the windshield. Someone is moaning in the rear of the vehicle, crying out in Venusian and begging some unseen caregiver to end the pain.
There is a gap in the recording for some time after. It resumes from the point of view of Keshet, Avir’s XO for this expedition. She is slumped against the side of the ground vehicle seen previously, now flipped over and half-buried in a hillside. A long, jagged piece of metal protrudes from her chest, and a steady stream of blood runs down her and pools beneath her ruined body. Despite this, weak breathing can be heard, and her hand goes to manipulate the controls on her wrist-mounted display. She opens a comms channel.
“A-” Speaking prompts violent, painful wheezing and seems to almost black her out. Another few button presses administers heavy painkillers, and Keshet tries again.
“Avir..” Keshet’s voice is weak, and fading. “Avir..it’s Kesh. Gefen’s dead..that thing’s poison took her even after I stopped the bleeding. Are you there? Avir? I can’t-I can’t move..” The radio crackles back with a response almost immediately after. Distantly, there is the sound of footsteps sprinting through foliage.
“Keshet! I’m coming! It’s alright, we had no opportunity for proper care; I am grateful you are still there. Are you stuck? Can you signal me?” Avir’s words now are heavy with emotion; reassuring and steady for her wounded comrade. Keshet has already gone before Avir has finished speaking.
Event 2
Avir stands over Keshet’s body. Over the next fourteen hours and through several dozen kilometers of wilderness, Avir pulls the bodies of Keshet and Gefen back to the landing craft near the sh0re. Avir sees eyes in between the trees, following her out with their gaze.
Event 3
Whining aircraft engines and spraying mist from the downdraft. Avir and Pherigo are looking over a small table at a digital map of Qara Göl. In the cockpit are Noga and Hadar, the two remaining Serfs alongside Avir.
Pherigo is speaking quickly, almost manically explaining something to an Avir whose facial expression is just as manic. He tells her that the wirelessly-transmitted power for this region is coming from this location on the map. It is somewhere deep, a trench within the ocean holding some enormous power source. Avir seems convinced that this somehow connects to the violent events of the days(?) before.
Recording Seven: The Trench
Most of the data for this recording is corrupted; though it seems to have represented more than a week’s worth of exploration.
The single image-frame remaining is a view from inside a helmet, looking up into a black void. A HUD depth meter reads “-15km”. Two bright dots hang just above the visor, providing a meagre flicker of light. The suit occupant; Guiiaume Pherigo, is dead.