I found myself so moved by the adventures and traumas of my most recent colony, that I decided to write a few expedition logs from the perspective of one of the colonists that I long ago deemed the expedition leader. The colony is named "The Scythe", and the storyteller is Tough Cleopatra Classic. I'll let Salt tell you the rest.
Expedition Log, Day 60
For the first time since this expedition began, I find myself regretting the decision to write these logs the old fashioned way. My hands are shaking so badly, I can barely hold the pen. I do not know if they will ever stop. The raiders I spoke of on Day 58 began their assault. The turrets were not on. They had been disabled by my order, to recharge our batteries after the recent eclipse. Only, no one thought to flip them back on. As our line of snipers began to fire, they found themselves overwhelmed by a mad rush, with no auto turret fire to protect their nests. We repelled the raiders, but not without great cost. As expedition leader, I should take responsibility for this mistake. However, I’m not sure I can bear the weight. Tiffy and Freeman are dead. They only joined us a few days back, but on this god forsaken rock, every day counts. Clara is dead. She’s been with us nearly since the beginning. She was so happy, too. I ‘d finally given the go ahead on the large excavation project she’d wanted for the mountain behind our main base, and she was halfway done with the necessary mining. She will never see it’s completion, but we will continue it in her honor. They even built me a larger room under the hollowed out mountain. Tonight, it will only serve to hold more shadows. Carlos is dead. Part of me wonders if he isn’t better off that way. He’d been walking around with hollow eyes for weeks. They say space marines are tough, but the amount of death that man has seen could break even the strongest warrior. It was all we could do just to keep him sane. We’ll miss him, though. And while it may be crass of me to say, we may miss his gun most of all. He was the best shot among us. I don’t know how we’ll make it without him. Our fighting force just dropped from eight to four. Vas’s mercenary training is good, but it doesn’t hold a candle to a marine’s. All three founders are left, along with Hiroshi. We have two prisoners from the assault previous locked in their cells. They were decent shots. Hopefully they’ll come around soon. Five of our six turrets went down. Hopefully Vas can get them back up before the next raider assault. Next time, they’ll be on.
William Salt
Expedition Leader
Expedition Log, Day 63
We’ve detected another raiding party. All six turrets are built and enabled, but the prisoners still refuse to lend a hand. Do they think the raiders will treat them any better than they’ll treat us? I tried to talk some sense into them, but they wouldn’t have it. Perhaps I should have tried to spook them instead. Well, it’s too late now. Vas and Tigress are lining up to snipe. Even Hiroshi and I are manning the wall with guns in our hands. A farm oaf and a surveyor. We’re desperate.
William Salt
Expedition Leader
Expedition Log, Day 64
Sixty four days. It’s hard to believe that I only knew her for sixty four days. It seems like a lifetime. The raiders are gone, but so is Tigress. The first of the founders to die. We lost her while trying to save Hiroshi; he didn’t make it either. If it wasn’t for Vas, I’d probably be dead too. That man has grown downright frightening with a blaster rifle in his hand. That leaves two of us. Two men, injured and bitter. At least they only got three turrets. We’ve just barely begun to cleanup; I don’t know if we’ll finish before the next raid. Hell, without Tigress and Hiroshi tending to the hydroponics, I don’t know if we’ll make it to the next raid. I’m starting to regret trading all that extra food for metal. I’m going to go talk to the prisoners. Hopefully one of them knows how to tend to plants, or we’ll all be going hungry.
William Salt
Expedition Leader
Expedition Log, Day 70
When I was young, I had a dream. Without my father in the house, I was stuck there, caring for my family. I dreamt that I would leave that house, leave that entire planet, and go on an adventure. A shipwreck was the least of my concerns. My days surveying for a pirate crew were certainly interesting, but part of me wonders if this accidental colony isn’t the culmination of those childhood dreams. It’s practically come full circle; here I am once again, caring for the household. Only this time, I’m holding a weapon. Ironic that Tigress insisted we call the colony “Scytheâ€, after the tool of her upbringing. An implement with two purposes; a tool for farming, and a weapon for fighting. Apt. If it isn’t clear from my reminiscing, I have an awful feeling this may be my last entry. A new band of raiders have appeared to the southwest, and they look nasty. Lucky for us, Nick and Rubio finally decided to offer their assistance. They’re both doctors, which is of surprisingly little use in our predicament, but Nick maintained the growing tables well enough to keep us fed, and Rubio helped us haul the necessary metal for Vas to fix up all six turrets, and rebuild the snipers’ nests. It hasn’t been easy, though. We’ve been quite pressed for time. Hell, we haven’t buried all the dead. Hiroshi’s body is still hanging over the sandbags in the eastern nest. Tigress has been buried, however. I just couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her out there like that. We’ll do the same for Hiroshi, if we survive the night. Or perhaps, someone else will be doing the same for me.
William Salt
Expedition Leader
And, folks, it's now a cliffhangerâ€"for you, and for me. The game is saved at Day 70, as Salt, Vas, Nick, and Rubio prepare to make their stand. The result is up to my skill and Tynan's engine. I'll probably write an expedition log after the battle.
If anyone survives.
Expedition Log, Day 60
For the first time since this expedition began, I find myself regretting the decision to write these logs the old fashioned way. My hands are shaking so badly, I can barely hold the pen. I do not know if they will ever stop. The raiders I spoke of on Day 58 began their assault. The turrets were not on. They had been disabled by my order, to recharge our batteries after the recent eclipse. Only, no one thought to flip them back on. As our line of snipers began to fire, they found themselves overwhelmed by a mad rush, with no auto turret fire to protect their nests. We repelled the raiders, but not without great cost. As expedition leader, I should take responsibility for this mistake. However, I’m not sure I can bear the weight. Tiffy and Freeman are dead. They only joined us a few days back, but on this god forsaken rock, every day counts. Clara is dead. She’s been with us nearly since the beginning. She was so happy, too. I ‘d finally given the go ahead on the large excavation project she’d wanted for the mountain behind our main base, and she was halfway done with the necessary mining. She will never see it’s completion, but we will continue it in her honor. They even built me a larger room under the hollowed out mountain. Tonight, it will only serve to hold more shadows. Carlos is dead. Part of me wonders if he isn’t better off that way. He’d been walking around with hollow eyes for weeks. They say space marines are tough, but the amount of death that man has seen could break even the strongest warrior. It was all we could do just to keep him sane. We’ll miss him, though. And while it may be crass of me to say, we may miss his gun most of all. He was the best shot among us. I don’t know how we’ll make it without him. Our fighting force just dropped from eight to four. Vas’s mercenary training is good, but it doesn’t hold a candle to a marine’s. All three founders are left, along with Hiroshi. We have two prisoners from the assault previous locked in their cells. They were decent shots. Hopefully they’ll come around soon. Five of our six turrets went down. Hopefully Vas can get them back up before the next raider assault. Next time, they’ll be on.
William Salt
Expedition Leader
Expedition Log, Day 63
We’ve detected another raiding party. All six turrets are built and enabled, but the prisoners still refuse to lend a hand. Do they think the raiders will treat them any better than they’ll treat us? I tried to talk some sense into them, but they wouldn’t have it. Perhaps I should have tried to spook them instead. Well, it’s too late now. Vas and Tigress are lining up to snipe. Even Hiroshi and I are manning the wall with guns in our hands. A farm oaf and a surveyor. We’re desperate.
William Salt
Expedition Leader
Expedition Log, Day 64
Sixty four days. It’s hard to believe that I only knew her for sixty four days. It seems like a lifetime. The raiders are gone, but so is Tigress. The first of the founders to die. We lost her while trying to save Hiroshi; he didn’t make it either. If it wasn’t for Vas, I’d probably be dead too. That man has grown downright frightening with a blaster rifle in his hand. That leaves two of us. Two men, injured and bitter. At least they only got three turrets. We’ve just barely begun to cleanup; I don’t know if we’ll finish before the next raid. Hell, without Tigress and Hiroshi tending to the hydroponics, I don’t know if we’ll make it to the next raid. I’m starting to regret trading all that extra food for metal. I’m going to go talk to the prisoners. Hopefully one of them knows how to tend to plants, or we’ll all be going hungry.
William Salt
Expedition Leader
Expedition Log, Day 70
When I was young, I had a dream. Without my father in the house, I was stuck there, caring for my family. I dreamt that I would leave that house, leave that entire planet, and go on an adventure. A shipwreck was the least of my concerns. My days surveying for a pirate crew were certainly interesting, but part of me wonders if this accidental colony isn’t the culmination of those childhood dreams. It’s practically come full circle; here I am once again, caring for the household. Only this time, I’m holding a weapon. Ironic that Tigress insisted we call the colony “Scytheâ€, after the tool of her upbringing. An implement with two purposes; a tool for farming, and a weapon for fighting. Apt. If it isn’t clear from my reminiscing, I have an awful feeling this may be my last entry. A new band of raiders have appeared to the southwest, and they look nasty. Lucky for us, Nick and Rubio finally decided to offer their assistance. They’re both doctors, which is of surprisingly little use in our predicament, but Nick maintained the growing tables well enough to keep us fed, and Rubio helped us haul the necessary metal for Vas to fix up all six turrets, and rebuild the snipers’ nests. It hasn’t been easy, though. We’ve been quite pressed for time. Hell, we haven’t buried all the dead. Hiroshi’s body is still hanging over the sandbags in the eastern nest. Tigress has been buried, however. I just couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her out there like that. We’ll do the same for Hiroshi, if we survive the night. Or perhaps, someone else will be doing the same for me.
William Salt
Expedition Leader
And, folks, it's now a cliffhangerâ€"for you, and for me. The game is saved at Day 70, as Salt, Vas, Nick, and Rubio prepare to make their stand. The result is up to my skill and Tynan's engine. I'll probably write an expedition log after the battle.
If anyone survives.