Personal Correspondence

From: Ensign Terris Amalda, Pax Dignis

To: Wide-beam broadcast; open channel, open network; all connections accepted

Terra-Sol date 3814.283 (estimated)

Hello?

[silence]

Hello? Is there anybody out there?

[silence]

Please, if anyone is reading this, if anyone can help us, we’re here. We’re alone, and we need help. Our chronometers aren’t reliable anymore, but it feels like we’ve been floating out here for weeks already. It can’t be that long—the measured depletion of our ration stores prove that much if nothing else—but it doesn’t keep it from feeling like we’ve been caught out here, and the fact that they’ve stopped caring what kind of messages we send out or who we’re trying to reach isn’t exactly a good sign. I mean, we survived an intragalactic jump that we all thought was impossible, and we thought that would be the end of it. We were alive and the rest could be dealt with as it happened. The longer we go without contact, though…

The crew starts getting jumpy after a normal long-haul run. This one doesn’t have an end any of us will see in our lifetimes unless someone cracks the program that got us here in the first place. Everyone was hopeful about that plan at first, but that faded faster than a spark in vacuum. They seem to be resigning themselves to spending the rest of their lives in the confines of this fucking ship. Maybe it’s because I was born on Paxis instead of on a ship, but it’s like I’m the only one who—

[silence]

I just…

[silence]

I just want to go home.

System searching for receiver… Searching… Searching…

[silence]

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