Sol-Date: 2215-51-23

I tried uploading this a few days ago, but after I got through my thoughts and clicked the submit button, it told me there was an issue with the website and I lost everything. Shows how smart I am for not keeping this in some sort of document offline. Ah well.

When we made it to Kyou, it took us three days to run the diagnostics available to us in a large space-dock. Nothing was wrong. There wasn't even a mention of the broken pump in the maintenance logs. I have no idea what's going on with the ship, and it worries me. The captain ordered that we stay in dock for some more time to rerun diagnostics and check the ship up and down to be sure.

What's more, there was a host of crewmembers that fell into sickness. None of the doctors know what it is, they can only give those sick sedatives and pain meds. A virus of some sort, they said it was. Those that were in contact with them have been taken to quarantine, just in case it can spread easily. I told the wife not to come. I didn't want her getting sick. I told her she could come if I get sick, but I ended up being fine. Some of the others weren't so lucky.

Four days after the second round started showing symptoms, five individuals died. I had never met them, but I went to pay my respects in the hospital all the same. Mardell F. Bengle, Mindi M. Dick, Myesha C. Monkus, Lida C. Quattrocchi, Katelyn W. Roner. All enlisted. I'll never forget the look of pain and agony that was upon their faces as they lay motionless. It makes me shudder when I think of it. Their skin was stretched, almost like it had shrunk, with boils and sores here and there, bleeding and spewing puss. Their eyelids couldn't be closed, so they had to put blindfolds over them.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

One thing you have to realize, is that on a spaceship the size of ours, you could go an entire four-year contract without meeting everybody on the ship. A standard C-Class Vega requires a standard crew of about six thousand men. At any one time, there are around one thousand on duty with six shifts in a standard cycle, unless we're doing specialized work such as what we've been doing in the space dock. Those numbers go higher as you get into the B-Class and the A-Class, and the other ships are different animals altogether.

I could go on for hours about the crew sizes, but that's not what matters. After we get done with the diagnostics, we're supposed to head to the home planets of those dead. Momoru, is first, followed by the snow-laden planet Rin, and finally Akemi. When we finish the ceremonies for the fallen soldiers, those that get better will rendevous at Takaru, a guard planet for several planets that provide the military with food.

We got back on the ship after the triple-checking was finished, and there wasn't any indication something was wrong, and the sounds I had been hearing were gone. Back to the normal silence of space and crewmates. It makes me worry more than for the soldiers sick. Whatever was going on, it wasn't happening anymore.

I feel like I'm going insane with anxiety. Worried about this, worried about that, and now that the fucking noises are silent I'm worried about that too.

I know I had more that I wanted to write out, but the website going down kind of shat on me. Got all the thoughts out of my head and now I'm trying to remember them, but can't. Guess I'll have to be more careful in the future. I've also been thinking about a way to close these posts, but everything seems too cheesy. I've thought about "Until next time" as well as something from my Basic Training, "Goodnight wolfpack" but I need some people to interact with before I can call it a pack.

Anyway. Time to get some sleep for my shift. Hopefully I don't lose anymore material.