Nexus

Alien Combat Unit Encounter Debrief

Entry 1: Briefing and Deployment

We were dispatched at first light to investigate abnormal energy signatures in Sector 12B. Command suspected they were remnants of the alien combat unit reported near the planet Hallmark last week, but no direct contact had been confirmed since. Our orders were clear: observe and report.

Echo Squad consisted of six Marines equipped with standard MDF combat armor, augmented-vision helmets, pulse rifles, and a Recon Sentinel drone. Morale was steady. We had seen combat before, but never anything like the briefings described. Captain Myers closed the session with a familiar line, “Expect the unexpected.” In the Pittman War Zone, that phrase is not a cliché. It is a survival doctrine.

Entry 2: Initial Encounter

We reached the coordinates by midafternoon. The terrain was a scarred wasteland of fractured stone and blackened craters, the aftermath of too many battles fought on the same ground. The charred remains of an MDF hover transport marked the edge of our search zone.

The drone’s sensors registered movement five hundred meters ahead. At first, it looked like nothing more than shifting shadows across the rocks. Then they appeared.

The aliens were enormous—bipedal, roughly three meters tall, with exoskeletons that shimmered like liquid metal. Their movements were smooth, almost graceful, yet undeniably predatory. Their weapons pulsed with an organic energy, emitting a low hum that vibrated through our armor. Even before they fired, the air felt charged, alive, and wrong.

Entry 3: The Ambush

We never had the chance to observe. The first blast came without warning, a concentrated surge of energy that vaporized our drone in an instant. I shouted for cover, diving behind a ridge of stone as the squad scattered. The aliens advanced with mechanical precision, their formation fluid but coordinated, as if guided by a single mind.

Their weapons tore through the landscape. One shot disintegrated the rock formation Corporal Davis had chosen for cover. He was gone before anyone could react. Our return fire did little more than flash harmlessly across their armor. Even explosive rounds barely slowed them. I managed to stagger one briefly, but its plating shifted and hardened almost immediately. It was learning.

Entry 4: Tactical Adjustment

With our position compromised, we improvised. Private Singh deployed a portable EMP charge—an emergency device intended for disabling enemy systems. When it detonated, the aliens faltered. For the first time, they hesitated.

“Now! Focus fire!” I ordered. The squad opened up with everything we had. Specialist Ortega’s grenade hit one of the creatures dead center, shattering its armor in a burst of molten fragments. The others retreated a short distance, regrouping with flawless coordination. Within moments, they adapted again. The advantage we gained was gone as quickly as it came.

The realization hit hard. They were not just strong. They were evolving with every engagement.

Entry 5: The Retreat

When it became clear we could not hold, I called for extraction. Our ammunition was running low, and our cover was collapsing under sustained fire. The aliens pursued as we withdrew, their weapons distorting the air with strange ripples that disrupted our sensors and disoriented movement.

By the time the dropship reached our position, only four of us were left. Corporal Harris stayed behind to cover the retreat. His final words over the comms were calm and resolute: “Don’t let them win.” He did not make it aboard.

As the dropship ascended, I looked back through the viewport. The aliens stood in the clearing, motionless and silent, watching us leave. It felt deliberate, as though letting us escape was part of their plan.

Entry 6: Post-Engagement Analysis

Back at Outpost Sentinel, the debrief was grim. Echo Squad has been reduced to four Marines, and morale has fractured. Command demanded every detail, but our data feeds were mostly static. The aliens’ interference wiped half of our telemetry.

Key Observations

Tactics and Coordination: The aliens function as a unified entity, reacting faster than any human unit. Their coordination suggests a hive network or battlefield AI link.
Strengths: Adaptive exoskeletons, superior mobility, and weapons capable of destabilizing local gravity fields.
Weaknesses: Momentary vulnerability to electromagnetic pulses and concentrated explosive ordinance.

Recommendations

Develop and deploy countermeasures targeting adaptive armor systems.
Standardize EMP devices across all forward units.
Prioritize intelligence and specimen recovery during future encounters.

Entry 7: Reflection and Resolve

I have fought in more battles than I care to count, but this was different. The enemy we faced was not driven by rage or vengeance. It moved with purpose, as though guided by something greater than instinct. These were not soldiers in the conventional sense—they were the embodiment of precision and control.

Harris’s sacrifice still weighs on me. His death bought us the time to warn Command, and his words echo every time I close my eyes. We cannot allow this enemy to gain the upper hand. Pittman may belong to them for now, but not forever. Humanity has always learned, adapted, and endured. We will again.

For Harris. For Echo Squad. For all of us still standing.

End Log

After-Action Report:
Location: Outpost Sentinel, Southern Ridge, Planet Pittman
Unit: Echo Squad, MDF Fourth Battalion
Mission: Reconnaissance Patrol, Grid Sector 12B
Log Entry Author: Sergeant Elias Kane
Date: 2157.03.18

Liberty’s Mechanic Log

Day 1: Aftermath of the Escape

The Liberty is limping. We barely made it out of the Pittman system alive, and the ship’s systems show it. Every corridor reeks of burnt circuitry, and half the bulkheads remain sealed after the decompression alarms during our retreat. It’s a miracle we didn’t lose the engine core when the aft shields collapsed.

The crew is shaken, but there’s no time for that. My engineering team has been working without pause, patching breaches and rerouting power from auxiliary grids. The main reactor’s output is down to sixty percent, and we’re running on borrowed time. Captain Harper asked for an ETA on full restoration. I told him the truth: “Soon, if we don’t die first.” He didn’t laugh.

Day 3: Shield Emitters Fried

We stabilized the primary power grid today, but the shield emitters are destroyed. The alien weapons shredded our systems, overloading the generators with energy bursts unlike anything in Terran records. Their plasma rounds phase through shields as if they aren’t even there. It’s maddening.

I’ve got a team scavenging parts from wrecks we hauled in during the retreat. Two support craft were gutted for components. It’s crude, improvised work, but patchwork engineering is our new normal aboard a combat ship held together by luck and determination.

Day 7: Reactor Overload Scare

The reactor spiked today. For five terrifying minutes, I thought we were finished. A pressure surge in the plasma conduits triggered a cascade failure in the coolant network, and alarms blared across the engineering deck. We managed to stabilize it, but only by venting nearly a third of our reserves into space.

Now we’re short on coolant, and the reactor’s running hotter than I’d like. I sent a requisition to Fleet Command, though I doubt we’ll see a response soon. If another engagement comes before resupply, we’re done.

Day 10: The Alien Fragment

One of the science officers brought me a fragment of alien technology recovered from a projectile impact. It’s a shard of a kinetic round that somehow survived entry and impact. The material is smooth, almost liquid to the touch, yet harder than any alloy known to us.

The remarkable part is its reaction to energy. When exposed to a specific frequency, the structure seems to knit itself back together. If we can understand this process, it could revolutionize our defensive materials. I’ve turned it over to the materials lab, but plan to monitor the analysis closely.

Day 15: Repairing Morale

It’s not only the ship that’s breaking — the crew is fraying too. Weeks of tension and exhaustion have worn everyone thin. Wainwright snapped at Jacobs today over a misplaced wrench. No one here has forgiven themselves for leaving the Marines stranded on Pittman, even though deep down, we know it was the only way any of us would make it out alive.

After shift, I gathered the team in the engine bay and cracked open a stash of Jovian ale I’d been saving. The drink was awful, but the laughter was real. Sometimes, keeping a crew together matters more than any repair.

Day 20: Jury-Rigged Upgrades

Progress at last. We managed to rebuild one of the secondary shield emitters. The fix is fragile and barely stable, but response time has improved by twelve percent. The captain authorized us to apply the same upgrade across the array. It will take days, but for the first time since Pittman, I feel like we have a fighting chance.

Day 25: Quiet Moments

A strange calm has settled aboard. The alarms have stopped, and for the first time in weeks, I slept a full night. During my break, I sat in the observation deck, watching the stars drift past. It’s easy to forget how beautiful the void is when you spend every day knee-deep in ruptured conduits and melted hull plating.

The Liberty still carries her scars, but she feels alive again. Every weld, every sealed fracture, is a small act of defiance. She’s not the newest ship in the fleet, but she’s ours — and she’s still flying.

Day 30: Incoming Orders

Fleet Command finally transmitted new orders. We are to rendezvous with the Seventh Fleet at Space Base Vega for resupply and full overhaul. The thought of seeing another friendly ship feels almost unreal.

Until then, my team will keep doing what we do best — holding this vessel together with skill, sweat, and a little stubbornness. The Liberty may not shine, but she endures. As long as she keeps flying, so will we.

End of Log

Chief Mechanic’s Log: Chief Engineer Rylan Tormek, USS Liberty

My Opened Eyes

Day 1: First Impressions

New Liberty is nothing like I imagined. When I stepped off the shuttle, the first thing that hit me was scale—skyscrapers glittering under twin moons, skybridges threading the skyline, and streets alive with sound and scent. Alien flora fill the air with a faint floral tang, mingling with the hum of hovercraft. I came from Earth chasing a fresh start. Standing here, I feel both exhilarated and small.

Day 3: The Mass Transit Maze

Today I braved the “Loop,” a web of magnetically suspended trains that weave through the city at dizzying speeds. I sat beside a Cetian merchant on his way to the trade fair, while schoolchildren chattered about new holo-games. The diversity is astonishing—languages, colors, and bioluminescent markings all blending into one seamless rhythm.

Day 7: Exploring the Market District

The Market District feels like another world. Food stalls glow with off-world spices and alien fruits. A Jovian chef served me “Nebula Curry”—literally luminous. Nearby, an artist painted on floating canvases that flared with light at each stroke. The city has its own pulse—chaotic, alive, beautiful.

Day 10: The Corporate Influence

Corporate architecture dominates the skyline—towers of liquid-metal sheen, others built from translucent crystal that glow softly at night. Even the parks shimmer with engineered biolight. It’s breathtaking, but also a quiet reminder of who really built this place—the hyper-corps that shaped its bones.

Day 14: Challenges of the Future

Life here moves fast. Crowds surge like tides, and it’s easy to feel invisible among millions. Rent, food, even air filtration—it’s all costly. My apartment is a single room with a view of the lower city. Still, I have a window—and hope.

Day 20: Finding Belonging

I joined a community group today. Over coffee and laughter, people shared their stories: a Martian engineer who built the first hover bridge, a Cetian artist seeking acceptance, and countless others forging new lives. I realized New Liberty isn’t just a city—it’s humanity’s mosaic, each piece vital.

Day 30: A New Home

After a month, I’ve found my rhythm. My café, my favorite skybridge, my quiet corner in the Grand Metro Library where I watch the moons rise. New Liberty isn’t perfect—it’s messy and loud—but it’s alive. For the first time in years, I feel like I belong.

Journal of Ken Bennett
Location: Terra Secundus – New Liberty Metropolis

Red Haven

Day 12: Settling In

It has been nearly two weeks since I arrived at Red Haven, our shimmering oasis on the edge of the Epsilon Eridani system. The colony domes glitter beneath the pale sunlight, their transparent shells shielding us from the thin, unbreathable atmosphere. Beyond them, the landscape stretches in endless red sand and jagged rock, broken only by the turquoise lake that winds through the valley, our lifeline on this otherwise inhospitable world.

From my lab in Dome 3, I have an unobstructed view of the main waterway. It is beautiful, but it is also my responsibility. As a hydrologist, I oversee the purity and flow of the lake that sustains more than three thousand settlers. The water feeds the colony’s agriculture and provides every drop we drink. It is a daunting charge, yet it is precisely what I was trained to do.

Life here is a mixture of the extraordinary and the mundane. Yesterday, I spent hours recalibrating filtration units after a sandstorm filled them with fine red grit. Today, I watched children playing along the inner lake banks, their laughter echoing through the humid air. The contrast is striking, our fragile dependence on machinery beside the simple joy of living in a place so far from Earth.

Day 15: The Sandstorm

The storm arrived without warning, howling across the desert like a living thing. From inside Dome 3, I watched the red haze swallow the horizon. The wind struck the transparent walls with unrelenting force, but the supports held. For hours the world beyond vanished into a swirling void of dust and static discharge.

When it passed, the valley was unrecognizable. The lake’s once clear water ran brown with silt, and the solar arrays lay buried beneath a crimson film. The maintenance crews worked through the night to restore power while I inspected the intake conduits for blockages. The storm reminded us all how fragile our existence remains.

Still, there is something exhilarating about life on the frontier. It sharpens every sense; every sip of clean water, every breath of filtered air, every sunrise over alien dunes becomes precious. Each moment feels earned.

Day 18: Water Watch

We detected an anomaly in the flow today, tiny crystalline formations drifting through the current. They are not organic, merely mineral deposits, but dense enough to clog the intake valves for Dome 4’s filtration grid. My team spent hours flushing the pipes and redesigning the mesh filters to prevent further buildup. Frustrating, but fascinating.

This planet’s geology is endlessly surprising. The lake is fed by geothermal springs rising from the bedrock, heated by the world’s deep mantle. Every sample we extract reveals new compounds and mineral structures. The more we learn, the more we realize how much remains undiscovered.

Day 22: Life in the Domes

The domes are masterpieces of design, each one a self-contained ecosystem. Dome 1 serves as the colony’s heart, housing command, medical, and the central market. Domes 2 and 3 sustain our food systems, vast hydroponic towers growing everything from wheat to strawberries. Dome 4 is residential, a maze of corridors and shared spaces alive with families and laughter.

I live in a compact unit beside the lake in Dome 3, only a short walk from my lab. It is modest compared with Earth’s sprawling cities, but it feels like home. Most nights, I sit at the observation window watching ripples on the lake and the mirrored glow of the domes drifting across its surface. Peace here has a quiet, unspoken weight, the kind that makes you grateful simply to exist.

Day 28: The Heartbeat of Red Haven

Today I joined a maintenance crew on an inspection run outside the domes. We sealed our pressure suits and stepped into the open desert. The sun hung low, painting the valley in gold and crimson shadows.

The main pumps stand like monuments, pulling water from the deep aquifers and driving it through the colony’s reservoir system. Standing beside them, I felt a sense of awe, not only at the machinery but at the audacity of what we have achieved. Red Haven is more than habitat and infrastructure; it is proof that humanity’s resolve can carve life from even the most barren soil.

Day 30: Reflection

The lights across the colony are dimming for the night. Beyond my window, the domes shimmer faintly under the red dusk. Life here is demanding, and there are moments when I miss the green fields and open skies of Earth. Yet this place holds something deeper, a raw beauty and an unshaped promise that refuses to let go.

We are building more than a settlement. We are shaping the foundation of future generations, creating a home where there was once only silence. Red Haven is not just a colony; it is a dream realized, a foothold among the stars.

End of Journal

Journal of: James Cruz, Hydrologist
Location: Red Haven Colony, Epsilon Eridani b