Survival Logs Day 1: Imperial Year 38,204, Captain Sohtyr Undersen, Terran Empire,

I don’t remember much as to how I ended up in this situation. The last thing I remember is giving the order for an emergency FTL jump to our nav officer; We were in a bit of a bind after being hit by some heated flak, something I’d never seen the Coalition use before, they must have gotten the idea from us. We must have been hit by some kind of missile that was fired shortly after the scalding debris, that would explain the flash I saw as we entered warp. I was knocked unconscious for some time too because upon coming to I was alone with a massive hole blown through the front of the bridge (thank God for basic protocol requiring that crew wear helmets in combat). Although I was without injury for the most part, my suit has not fared so well, my helmet had multiple holes in the visor in addition to having the left arm of my suit completely torn to shreds. Luckily the emergency membrane deployed correctly, surely due to it being the updated model given to captains, and it is most definitely the only reason I’m still breathing (I’ll have to thank Dr. Cartock for updating Buford's design next time I see her, if I see her that is.) I managed to find a spare helmet and some duct tape to patch my suit, amazing how useful that stuff is, and managed to get the door working to the supply hall just behind the bridge, I can use this room for shelter as I assess the damage done to the rest of the ship and look for the rest of the crew. I have enough oxygen for at least two days so that should give me enough time to send a distress signal and make an attempt at getting life support operational again. For now, however, I’m tired and need to get some rest.

Day 2:

The exit door is fused shut, the only way out of the bridge now is through the large, explosion shaped hole in it. Power indicators on the wall panels show that we’re currently running on emergency power, meaning if I want to get a signal out to command then I have roughly 3 days to do so before the power shuts off entirely. I managed to make my way back into the ship through a malfunctioning escape pod door. So far no signs of any crew left on board, hopefully most of the crew made it to safety seeing as all the pods have launched. The lower parts of the ship have certainly seen better days, looks like we got dipped in lava down here, definitely no way we can get this repaired in a reasonable time assuming I can get her back to port. All the bulkheads are sealed tight so the inner parts of the ship, including the reactor, should still be intact, I might even find a few crew members to help in there too. For now I need to work on a way to bypass the emergency measures on the bulkheads or I’ll be in big trouble in a few days time. My suits’ internal life support system seems to function as best it can for now so food won’t be an issue for at least 5 more days. I just wish the system monitor wasn’t beat to hell when the arm of my suit was torn up, that might have given me a way to conserve more oxygen by switching some of the numbers around. As it stands right now I’ll run out of oxygen in just over another day as this kind, monotone, computer generated asshole in my head keeps telling me.

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Day 3:

Oxygen is low, I haven’t found any way past the bulkhead security measures. I’ve tried everything I can think of to bypass the emergency lock. I even managed to find an old plasma torch that still had some juice in it. Unfortunately the materials used on the new designs for ship bulkheads are much too strong for such a small torch. I only managed to find my way into another sealed off area by burning through the weak spots in the ship’s hull before the torch ran out of fuel so it looks like I’m stuck here. I made an attempt to manually override the bulkheads but the control panel was destroyed so I had to try hotwiring my way in but the most I could accomplish was getting some lights to blink on and off. Ironically it managed to blink in an old S.O.S. pattern, but since I’m the only one who can see it I doubt it’ll be any help. Now my only hope of survival comes down to needing a string of miracles to happen. First I need the lights to have somehow been affected inside by what I’ve been doing out here. Second I need there to be someone still alive on the inside of the ship. Third, I need them to successfully interpret the lights as a call for help and manage to get the doors open. In all likelihood this is my last journal entry, and with that I’ll end it with a farewell to all those I’ve served with, it’s been an honor.