Dahdee and Sara

From 1d4chan
Jump to: navigation, search


Heya /tg/ - A few nights ago I had a fairly weird and epic dream (my last epic dream resulted in Emulsiworld on 1d4chan) that followed a Father and Daughter and had a slight HFY vien to it.

Except, instead of glorifying mankind it followed the lines of humans are great teachers and our kids are the future

So here is my writefagging, its fairly long and it was written while half asleep. I just hope people enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed getting it out of my head.



>TIME//DATE RECORDING SYSTEM CORRUPTED.

>PRIMARY RECORDING SYSTEMS NO LONGER ACTIVE.

>SECONDARY RECORDING SYSTEMS IN ACTIVE STATE.

>BEGIN AUDIO LOGS.

>CAPTAIN – AARON DAVIS.

>REGISTERED CIVILIAN TRADE FRIEGHTER “THIS SIDE UP”

>OPENING ENTRY.

Well, I suppose I should start with both an apology and an admission. I owe you that much.

First of all, the apology – you never deserved to be out here, in the latter known arse-end of nowhere. I was selfish, both me and your mother. By now you know some of the ins and outs of how we met, I was running the trade routes between Earth and the inner colonies – trading between Alpha Centauri, Rigel Kentaurus and Jupiter station, that’s how me and your mother met. How you came to be. She passed on as you where born, raised as close to being a true spacer as anyone can be. I remember having to alter the gravity ring settings of the ‘side up to make you sleep better at night and having to alter the magnetic shield harmonics to help lull you to sleep at night. I remember your first steps around the ship, walking loops around the rotating ring as I had closed all the bulkhead doors and let you wear yourself out as you left tiny hand-prints on the cold metal walls. You deserved better, you should have been born on Mars, or even Earth if I could have gotten you there – got your mother into a proper hospital planet-side, maybe saved her life and gave you the gift of both parents. Settled down into a life somewhere and sold the ship, gotten you into a school – a real honest to god school, with teachers and playgrounds and other kids. Instead I gave you this – raised in a rotating metal ring of a mid-range trade ship endlessly moving between world to world, no real hope of an upbringing beyond me and a ship I had only half paid off the 25 year mortgage on.

Although thinking about it all, I suppose I should move onto the admission.

I have never been more proud of you. I love you so much, and if I could do it all again – I wouldn’t change a thing.

As I am saying this, you are halfway on your first real voyage into the black – and I am on my last days. Something about the bacteria of this world, you grew into the immunities and adapted as I gave you all of the few immunopacks I had aboard, but this alien world has taken its toll. The doctors, with what little I managed to pass on to them from you and the ship have told me I don’t have long left. I am reorganising my logs into something passing a record of what happened between then and now to give you something to look back on, something to carry on, and eventually something to pass on.

My baby girl, you have done so much to get back to the stars. My eyes are getting darker now, I can feel the cold in my bones. I don’t need to worry, soon I can close my eyes and I can join you.

Daddies will be joining you soon. Back to the stars.


>ADJUSTED ENTRY ORDER.

>STARTING SECOND ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. 6 MONTHS. 8 DAYS. 8 HOURS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP COMMS LOG.

“Rodger that Jupiter station, telemetry green – FTL drive is charging and we are outside safe distance. See you on the flipside.”

“Copy that ‘This Side Up’ – Stay safe Aaron, look after that little girl – okay?”

“Rodger that, FTL drive charged – Sara is safe and sound, see you again soon”

>BLACKBOX SHIP STATUS.

>CAPACITORS CHARGED.

>FTL DRIVE CHARGED.

>NAVIGATION ACTIVE.

>FTL NAVIGATION ACTIVE.

>TARGET SYSTEM TELEMETRY – JUPITER ORBIT – RIGEL KENTAURUS.

>PRIMARY MAGNETIC SHIELD ACTIVE.

-- --

>WARNING.

>WARNING.

>UNKNOWN SOLAR RADIATION DETECTED.

>TIME TO IMPACT – 17 SECONDS.

>UNABLE TO DISABLE FTL DRIVE ACTIVATION.

>MAGNETIC SHIELD – INACTIVE -

>WARNING.

>WARNING.

>FTL EVENT IN PROGRESS.

>WARNING.

>WARNING.

>MAGNETIC SHIELD – OFFLINE

>NAVIGATION – OFFLINE

>FTL NAVIGATION – OFFLINE

>DAMAGE TO PRIMARY CPU ARRAY

>DAMAGE TO PRIMARY REACTOR

>PRIMARY CARGO ARRAY DESTROYED – JETTISONING CARGO

>SECONDARY SYSTEMS ONLINE.

>FTL TRANSITION COMPLETE.


>STARTING THIRD ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. 6 MONTHS. 8 DAYS. 6 HOURS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM CAPTAINS LOG.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck it all!

All primary systems apart from gravity and life support are offline. Fuck! The FTL drive went arse over tit and we are drifting. Can’t get any external communications online, got no navigation of any kind – the ship went and autodumped the cargo so I guess I can kiss my career goodbye as my fucking insurance won’t cover any of this shit.

I guess the only thing I can take any kid of solace in is the fact me and Sara are both fine, the worst she got was scared by the sheer noise of everything in the ship dieing at the same time – not even a bump on her anywhere. She’s the lucky one at that age, I have a gash on my forhead at least a finger long and I feel like death warmed twice over. I have to keep going though. I think I may be able to get Nav and then Comms online. If I can get that done then I can get this shithole of a ship to crawl to a main convoy line and get a mayday signal out to somewhere, hopefully a cruiser can pick us up in a few days time and we can get this behind us.


>STARTING FOURTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. 6 MONTHS. 4 DAYS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Sara is sleeping now, so I guess I have a while to put into words how well and truly screwed we are.

FTL is dead, but NAV and COMMS are not – not that it will make much difference anyway. The ships blackbox is a mess, so I can only pull out about half of what happened. About two centuries ago, just before the space race started again, just after we dealt with global warming – there was some kind of big thing about extra solar radiation. I only remember it from school but the basic bullshit is that somewhere in the universe a star died in a really weird way, and blasted radiation and solar flares out into the void – which could destroy all life on Earth or just wipe out our electronics or some other kinds of crap. It was eventually debunked on a planetary scale but there always was some kind of thing about whether or not it could affect a ship in space.

I checked the few logs I have, we where hit by a flare from outside our solar system, just as we where about to FTL – the drive couldn’t stop once it had started but the co-ordinates had been wiped when NAV went offline, so we blind jumped into . . . well, the middle of nowhere.

Right now, we are on the outer edges of a system – and we have some cruising speed. I have plotted a course towards the inner system to find a nice big gas giant or moon to lurk behind and try and organise my repairs. I doubt I will ever manage to get this ship fully working again, and I doubt we will ever leave this system. Got to do something. Do something for her. 11 months old and lost in space. Ain’t a thing a Father ever wants to leave his little girl.


>STARTING FIFTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. 4 MONTHS. 12 DAYS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Well, its been a while – didn’t seem right to keep talking to myself between Looking After Sara and everything I needed to do.

It was her first birthday a few days back, I did my best for her. There wasn’t a cake, or candles – but I took one of her mothers belongings, an old teddy bear of hers – and named her “Rosey” after her mother. I dumped the contents of one of the ration storage boxes and wrapped it in paper from the printer with patterns and flowers drawn on in marker pens.

It wasn’t much but it made her happy to unwrap a present, I got a few pictures on the cam and saved them to the blackbox – the first proper smile I’ve managed to crack since the accident.

I wish I could do better for Sara.

I miss you Rosaline.

God damnit I wish I could cry.


>STARTING SIXTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. 3 MONTHS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

It has taken us three months, three long months. We are in the inner system at last. Travelling for this long on thrusters alone has done an absolute number in on the backup fusion drive but it has been worth it.

At first I wanted to get us to shelter near a moon or planet and get us fully operational again before attempting to get the FTL drive operational. Then I saw the results from the scanners.

They are only a low-range civilian model scanning array – it takes forever to do much beyond basic navigation, but with three months to work they managed to scan the system and managed to find a world in the system with an atmosphere and water, capable of sustaining human life. Apparently the tolerances are just about right even if the gravity is a little heavier than 1G, but it’s a world we can at least survive on. I have set a slingshot course around the gas giant I had planned to park near to save the thrusters a little work and got the scanners working as hard as they can to find out as much as we can about this world. If I can ever find a way to get the NAV systems fully operational then we could jump back home and I could claim a new system, pioneers rights and everything – could be worth billions on the corporate or international markets.

I may be able to give my little girl the upbringing she deserves after all – a nice mansion on Earth in the tropics, everything she could ever need.

She said her first proper words yesterday, not just repeating and gibberish.

Dada.

I just wish Rosaline was still here to see her.


>STARTING SEVENTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. 2 MONTHS. FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP COMMS LOG.

Even with the slingshot – inner system travel takes a long time. It’s the reason why we set up space stations throughout the inner system . . . Jupiter, Mars, Luna. Its easier to have dedicated drop off points for inner system trawlers with more powerful sublight engines than have a mass of endless traffic clogging up the convoy routes, or risking inner system FTL where gravity can make everything all screwy. Between systems however, small ships with high FTL speeds can make an independent living so long as they have the right licences. It’s the reason why men like me still exist in the universe.

So we have been crawling towards the planet, the little green orb in the window I still have no name for yet.

The thing is, once every so often the radio sparks into life – little boops and beeps through the static of background noise. No idea what to make of it yet. Trying to pick up as much as I can by opening all the receivers and listening in.

Gotta log off now anyway. Time for dinner. Let it not be said that vac-pack rations and toddlers are not a match made in hell for a full time space-dad.


>STARTING EIGTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. 1 MONTH. 2 WEEKS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Holy hell. Holy fucking hell. The radio static just turned into music. Nothing like anything I have ever heard before, but fucking music. I am recording everything, everything I can. Dozens of frequencies, music of every type – language I can’t even begin to understand.

I don’t think it’s human either, the sounds, the words – at least I think they are words. Not like anything I have ever heard before.

No one has ever made first contact with an alien. Ever. There’s always been legends, but nothing real, nothing really real.

Holy fuck.


>STARTING NINTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. 1 MONTH. SIX DAYS. 4 HOURS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

I worked out the maths and I think, I think I can make contact. It won’t be pretty at all though. I was put through my tests, Pilot, Captain, Engineer – all the tests you need to run a single man boat like this, but they teach you to follow the manual and never to deviate because fucking around with your ship in deep space can kill you dead in seconds. Of course no one ever pays attention to that crap in the long run.

I re-activated the COMMS array, and worked out that even though its still going to take weeks to reach this world, the radio signals are only taking a few hours to reach us here – so anything I send back should take the same amount of time. I picked one of their most common frequencies to try and send a reply on. Now I just have to pick a reply.

No one ever taught us about first contact – no one ever thought it would happen to a civilian, it would be some kind of big wondrous event for one of the military cruisers. That or we would never find anyone. I doubt they would understand me as much as I can understand them, which is very fucking little. I have decided to let the computer send the signal out for me. Old sci-fi films used to use maths to communicate between us and the aliens in first contact situations until they could talk, so I have told the computer to send out prime numbers in sequence in the same beeps and boops I picked up on the way into the system. Hopefully they should figure out that something is on the way and work out a reply.

God only knows what I cam going to send back though . . .


>STARTING TENTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. 1 MONTH. ONE DAY. FIVE HOURS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

It took five days of drifting into the system before I picked up a proper reply. I still have no idea what they are saying, but the music seemed to stop on every radio channel I could pick up, replaced by frantic . . . talking and then the replaying of my signal before I then received a proper response to the signal myself.

It started off with them replaying the prime numbers back to me in signal as I did – then I took over the Microphone. I had no idea what to say, I started off with my name, the name of my ship, my daughter, we came from Earth in peace, we needed help. They gibbered on in return, after that the conversation just broke down into noise on both ends, no idea what each of us wanted to communicate so we just talked.

I estimate we have a few weeks until we hit orbit. After that who knows. The cargo transport still works at least, and is rated for an orbital landing. I heard some strange noises coming from the backbone of the ships hull a few hours ago. Running some scans now.

God I am tired. More tired than I have been in a long time. It feels like I am just talking for the sake of talking. Sara is talking really well now. Dad. Taa. Please. Yes. No. Everyone is talking. Now we just need more words.


>STARTING ELEVENTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. THREE WEEKS. ONE DAY FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP COMMS LOG.

Hello down there, we’ve been talking for a while now. I know neither of us has much to say. Neither of us can understand so just listen. My ship was damaged in FTL, and it is worse than I thought. The sheer stress of what brought us here caused the ships backbone to splinter, the superstructure has factures running all the way through it. I honestly don’t know how it survived this long.

I have a little girl, her name is Sara – she deserves to live through this even if I don’t.

I am doing my best to get my ship into preparation to enter a stable orbit, it will be the closest it has come to a planet since we got here. If it can stand up to the gravity of your world then I will leave it in orbit and make my way down to your world in our cargo transport.

I want you to know, I want you all to know – that we come in peace.

I hope you believe us.


>STARTING TWELTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. THREE DAYS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

>PART ONE.

I have been working my arse off for the last few weeks – the ship has been groaning like nothing I have ever heard before.

I have already loaded as many supplies as I can get into the cargo transport. Sara’s Cot, my crib – as many rations and supplies as I can fit, Immunopacks – water supplies and anything and everything I can gather to survive on a new world. I know whoever is down there is advanced enough for radio, but we have no idea what to expect down there. No idea at all. We are a few hours away from the world below – Sara is asleep on her crib, and it’s probably for the best. The chatter on the radio has gone nuts – I have no idea what is going on but they sound agitated as hell.

No going back now though. Gotta slide the ship into an orbit and then detach the transport from the hull. It’s not that hard to do, but I haven’t made an atmo landing since the training sims. I guess it’s like riding a bike.

Transferring a copy of the ships logs and databanks over to a mobile array now, so this is the last log from the ‘side up. Sara had her first words in this boat, her first steps, her first cold, her first bottle, her first clear night sleep. So many memories.

See ya’ later old girl.

It’s been a ride.


>PART TWO.

A.L.S online.

Clean detach.

“This Side Up” in stable orbit.

Trajectory clean.

Breaking atmo now.

Hold on sweetheart. There’s no need to cry.

We’re gonna be okay.

We’re gonna be okay.

Shhhh now. Daddies got you.

Destination locked. Central landmass city. Slowing speed.

Preparing for landing.

Daddies got you. I’m here.

I love you.


>STARTING THIRTEENTH ENTRY.

>-25 YEARS. ONE DAY FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

We made it. I don’t know how we made it but we did. I had picked out a landing zone in a rural area near one of the major cities – and slowed down enough to make it obvious we where landing. As if landing a goddamn ship on a planet wasn’t hard enough, try doing it with a screaming year and a quarter old toddler on your lap as alien biplanes pull up along side you.

Honest to god biplanes.

We made a soft landing in a field and I locked down the ship. Managed to settle Sara enough and found my gun. An old model pistol from a military surplus store on Alpha Centauri, one of those slug throwers that doesn’t damage the hull. I only had enough rounds for a single clip, or magazine, or whatever the hell they are called. I knew they would be on the way soon and I was right.

Within half an hour the place was surrounded by vehicles, some obviously military – great big eight wheeled armoured personnel carriers that looked like something out of a world war two alternate history vid, the others where civilian – I could get a view of the occupants in the distance through the front screens, blue/gray midgets that looked like a walrus fucked a smurf. Blubber and hair wrapped in hair and tusks with cloth uniforms and clothes carrying what looked like stunted rifles with wooden stocks.

A short while after that, the specialists arrived – it looks like a white lab coat is the universal sign of doctors and scientists, I am not sure if I can find an irony in that or not. I watched as they set up observation points and equipment before they eventually set up flood lights and the sun went down. Sara fell asleep in my arms before they dared make any move towards the ship. Three of their scientists wearing some kind of sealed suits and two of their soldiers. They approached the ship with all kinds of instruments and devices and started doing the kind of shit I would presume scientists do when faced with an alien ship on their lawn. Their soldiers moved in and started to look in through the windows so I moved out of sight behind the container crates I packed and put together my internal debate of what I should do next.

In the end, I decided to make the first move on my own terms. I turned the internal and external lights on and suitable scared the shit out of them before I opened the door

First contact? I can only imagine the vids they will make if they ever see what the ships external cameras picked up.

Blue alien walrus midgets in vac suits with WW2 era tech being greeted by a shabby civilian freighter captain who hadn’t showered in a week with a slug throwing pistol in one arm and a toddler on the other.

Neither side knew what the other was saying. I wanted those soldiers the fuck away from my kid, they wanted the alien twice their fucking size to drop the firearm and surrender.

In the end, it was one of the scientists who adjusted to the situation before the soldiers did, between the smoke and the lights he must have seen something more universal than the crap I had joked about with in the back of my head. Words went out the window, ideologies and communication didn’t matter. Not yet.

All he say was a parent trying to protect a child.

The soldiers lowered their guns, I lowered mine.

I pointed to myself and said my name, pointed to Sara and said hers – then pointed to him, he seemed to get the point and replied “Yuulaf” and named a few other the others, I tried something a bit more complex and said we where human, tried numbers on my hand with fingers but I was lost – I didn’t fuck up completely because we aren’t dead.

In the end, I managed to get back inside my ship and put Sara in her crib and retrieved a spare datapad and gave it to them, tried to make written languages as clear as possible. Numbers and star maps. The best first contact package put together by a man who has no idea what he is doing. The scientists took it and left, the soldiers stayed firmly put so I got back inside the ship and sealed the door before getting a few hours sleep. Woke back up and started recording everything.

Its almost light outside – I can see the troops outside, they have moved back a little but entrenched themselves around the ship. Their guns seem a lot bigger now – not that I would blame them. There are more scientists as well. I am hoping that common sense wins out and we can communicate soon.


>STARTING FOURTEENTH ENTRY.

>-24 YEARS. ELEVEN MONTHS. 28 DAYS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

I guess it’s a stalemate for now. No, that’s the wrong way to describe it. It’s a waiting game.

Every so often one of the scientists walks out into the open, half way between us and them and waits. It took me one attempt to work out what they wanted. Some kind of dialogue exchange.

It came out without a suit – along with Yuulaf. Both armed with the Datapad I gave them and big heavy books of alien writing about god only knows what.

We exchanged names again, and then started trying to communicate once more. It was slow. We managed to establish species, we we’re human, they are the “Teth” we came from “Earth” and their homeworld – the world we currently stood on was “MaTeth” and managed to cover the numbers one to ten and then struggled with the alphabet when Sara started to cry out for me.

I could feel every gun in the area tense up when I tried to hurriedly explain to creatures that didn’t speak a goddamn word of English she needed me, and instead turned and half-ran back to the ship and returned with her in my arms as I tried to shush in front of her. Eventually I had managed to settle her back to sleep in front of a small army of guns to try and show them there was no theat when Yuulaf approached with the datapad in hand, a picture of me and Sara on it, and then he took a picture of his own on paper – and drew what appeared to be himself with a smaller version his species. I could only draw conclusions at the time, he was trying to tell me he was a father too.

We struggled through some more attempts to communicate for about half an hour before Sara woke up again, her first reaction to seeing the first aliens of her life? Laughter. Honest to god laughter. She wriggled her way around in my arms until I stood her on the floor next to me and held my hand. I was sweating my nuts off with the fear of an inbound bullet at any time.

All she could do was wave, wave and laugh.

Then Yuulaf waved back.

Then something amazing happened. Sara introduced herself, Yuulaf introduced himself and got down onto one chunky knee. Between the fear and the sweat I lost my grip and her fingers slipped out of mine. I panicked and jolted forward as she ran, guns everywhere raised in alarm, and she hugged Yuulaf with the lack of restraint that only a child could have. Then he hugged back. She said Hello, and he copied her – then he said what I could only assume was hello in their own language and she copied him.

I moved up, dropped to my own knees and brought her back to myself, she pointed me and said “Daddie” and then Yuulaf nodded and piped in “Dahdee” and within those few moments an accord was struck.

Hours later most of the guns disappeared and the scientists moved in closer, and between me, Sara and Yuulaf we struck up something of a basic understanding of each other.

I didn’t know it was going to be the start of a long, long night.


>STARTING FIFTEENTH ENTRY.

>-24 YEARS. SIX MONTHS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Five months almost. Sara is getting closer to being two every day. If or when we ever get home I am never going to doubt another parent vid ever again, kid is like a sponge I swear.

Between me and Yuulaf we at least have an understanding of each others languages – but its hard going, every day we end up encountering another word or term the other doesn’t understand and we end up spending hours or in some cases days trying to understand each other. Sara though? She is picking up both languages like a sponge – I know kids with parents who speak two languages end up becoming bilingual, but between English and an entirely Alien language is absolutely nuts. Its not like she speaks full sentences all the time, but she already knows which words we use most often and which ones to use on the other side, between me and Yuulaf she is almost like a Rosetta stone – eventually she is going to do something even more amazing than when she first met the Teth. I just don’t know what that is yet.


>STARTING SIXTEENTH ENTRY.

>-24 YEARS. FOUR MONTHS. 15 DAYS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Two years old today. I can’t believe it. My little girl is two today.

I did my best, singing happy birthday – a ration pack with a makeshift candle, I had been teaching myself how to sew with what few supplies I had, needles and thread from the medkit surgical supplies, material from what was supposed to be my spare jumpsuits – I made her a summer dress as best I could.

Well, as best as jumpsuit gray and red can suit a blonde haired two year old who looks like a scruff-devil from hades. Her confidence is going up every day, along with her words – I am reading her books now and trying to get her to write. Yuulaf normally hangs around nearby taking as many notes as he can – I think he has given up on trying to form a dialogue directly and is learning by proxy from me teaching her.

They seem to be building us an accommodation of sorts just outside the ship – Yuusaf tried to point things out to me, the mould that is turning up in some corners of the ship, the crampt conditions, the fact Sara is getting bigger. I already knew this ship wasn’t meant to be lived in for a long time, I knew I had to protect her. To be honest – I never figured I’d live this long.

My logs are getting further apart now, but I guess that’s life. Whatever path it takes.


>STARTING SEVENTEENTH ENTRY.

>-24 YEARS. ONE DAY FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Its now been a year since we landed on MaTeth, our new home is almost finished and we now have a dialogue of sorts between us, a lot more words and meanings than when we first arrived and growing daily. Sara is now reading with me, and I am working towards getting her writing her own name. Potty training as well. I suppose I should count myself lucky that she has always slept through the night and never needed a pacifier. I am trying to plan out some kind of schooling for her – but I was never any good at school myself. I suppose I have managed to fumble my way through being “Dahdee” so far, so there isn’t much I can go wrong in.

I think this place may become our home now. The Teth definitely don’t have anywhere near the tech level we do – WW2 is definitely the best way to describe it. If Yuulaf is going to stick around the entire time then they are going to have one hell of an eye opener when I start teaching History.

He is telling me that he looks forward to learning more about each other. Part of me thinks this might be harder to survive than first contact.


>STARTING EIGHTEENTH ENTRY.

>-22 YEARS. FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

I have to admit I had forgotten this was here, day to day life slips away from us as time goes on I guess. Sara is now four – forget everything that every parent has ever said to you about toddlers, bloody gruesome two-somes, the fearful threes and the even worse fours. The little terror has learned every single place to hide in the old ship and the house – as well as every place to slip through the guards patrols and climb the guard towers. Lucky for me I don’t have to worry about the soldiers taking a potshot at her any more as the entire group is now like a family to her – she knows the name of every guard, scientist and soldier on the bloody site. She know speaks fairly fluent English and MaTeth, reads and writes and goes in leaps and bounds across whatever I throw at her – Yuulaf and I now understand each other fairly well and he is providing the other side of a MaTeth education which I then work my way through and then we combine the two to teach her – every so often the children of the Scientists are given clearance to come and play. They at least know we are peaceful, but access to the world beyond is restricted for our own safety.

I have met with leaders of the various nations on this world – it looks like our arrival stopped a world war from kicking off, but I don’t know the specifics. They pooled their scientific knowledge together to offer more towards us once we arrived. Since Sara became the child that linked us to them and opened a dialogue they have been learning without putting pressure on us, they know the “This Side Up” is in orbit and want to learn technology from us. I have offered mostly peaceful stuff so far. I don’t have an encylopedia or anything like that on me, but most datapads come with things like installed apps for learning languages on earth, maths, science, history, anything I could offer them without frightening the hell out of them or destroying their planet.

They seem to be interested in the obvious stuff so far – power generators, they hadn’t even considered solar power yet, they still used fossil fuels. Fusion generators and FTL drives where utterly beyond them, but I have offered to teach them what I know from being taught how to operate the ‘Side up along with history files from things like the Apollo program and the ISS museum. They seem as eager to learn as Sara is. So the only way from here is . . . up.


>STARTING NINETEENTH ENTRY.

>- 20 YEARS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Sara is now six years old, we have now been here for over four years by my guess. I am now fairly fluent in MaTeth, and Yuulaf is now reasonably fluent in English and Sara continues to be the bridge between us.

Along with her education – I have been teaching the Teth as much as I know about Solar Panels and renewable energy tech, with me to bridge the gap between theory and application they have now built their first factory production floor for photovoltaic cells and are rolling out their first generations of the tech – its like combining something out of an alternate history book with something out of the here and now. 23rd century power generation from 20th century level tech. I have to admit I am impressed. They have put together an organisation akin to NASA, or at least what NASA used to be in order to trawl through everything I have given them. In the end I chose to disclose everything I had on me with the exception of weapons tech – its not like I had schematics to military grade equipment, It’s a civilian ship, but even a recording of a cruiser based railgun firing on pirates would be enough to give their generals a MaTeth wet dream. That’s not even bringing ideas like nuclear weapons or plasma cannons into the mix. No – I have introduced this world to energy tech that should help them to avoid global warming as a gift of good faith. They want to know how to get to the stars? I am going to help them get up there in peace.

Who knows, maybe one day they could take us back home.


>STARTING TWENTIETH ENTRY.

>- 16 YEARS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Good god, each one of these entries is getting further and further apart, if I get too careless then I might end up skipping too much of this. I have to be more vigilant to get all of this recorded. This is my legacy for Sara.

Hot blooded, confident and sharp as a goddamn knife that girl – 10 years old and she scares the crap out of me.

She keeps blazing her way through everything me and Yuulaf have to teach her – so I finally started teaching her the same thing I have been trying to pass on to Yuulaf and the fellow scientists. Orbital mechanics, rocketry, phased pulse engines, Fusion generators and FTL mechanics. They are all absorbing what I have to pass on and applying it at a terrifying rate. The MaTeth have put a mission together – they want to get a mission up to the ‘Side up and repair and man the ship again so they can learn from the devices in action first hand. I told them how dangerous it would be but they only seem to be more determined to do so, their technology is jumping ahead with each stage I teach them.

So I decided it was finally time to teach Sara the other parts of our history. I sat down Yuulaf and a select group of Teth dignitaries and generals for this and began showing them the hard road we had to fight through to get to where we where. World Wars One, Two and Three – Vietnam, both the Gulf wars, the Mars rebellions – Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Armstrong colony – as many of the bloody conflicts I could cram together and the reasons why. To show them the darker sides of where we came from. To be honest I think I scared the crap out of them.

So far I have not had one of them ask for our weapons tech, what few documents and videos I have of it anyway.

Maybe they have seen the best side of us through me and Sara, and the worst side of us from our history and decided what they would rather stick with. I don’t know.

That’s what I would like to think anyway. It helps me sleep at night


>STARTING TWENTY FIRST ENTRY.

>- 15 YEARS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Its only been a year this time, but with good reason – I have no become the emissary of our people, so to speak, to put together the mission to the ‘Side up.

The mission goals they have put together are lofty but they have been bloody smart, working out all the variables and working out all the mistakes by looking at the ones we made before them.

I guess we make good teachers, if only for our failings as a people.


>STARTING TWENTY SECOND ENTRY.

>- 14 YEARS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Its been another year again, Sara is now 12 and coming into her own – she has taken everything I have to possibly teach her and then some, its now getting to the point where Yuulaf has more to teach her than I do.

I guess every parent reaches a point when their child starts to surpass them, I just hoped it wouldn’t come so soon. I guess she inherited more of her mother than I even thought possible.

It’s odd that I should think about Rosaline at a time like this, its been years since the last time I had thought about her.

I guess its nerves kicking in.

In my last few logs I has said the Teth where putting together a mission to rebuild and man the ‘Side up – Yesterday they revealed the ship that they where going to do it with. Impressed was an understatement. They took everything I had showed and taught them and rebuilt it – into something that was actually a little more advanced than even I was expecting. It looked like a wider, flatter version of the cargo transport we landed in with space for a crew of twenty Teth and myself and an autorepair facility to rebuild the damage to the ships backbone as well as supplies to bring the ship back to operational status.

Sara is going to stay on the surface with Yuulaf while I help advise the mission, he can continue her education while I bring everything back online.

I love you Sara, Daddie will see you again soon.


>STARTING TWENTY THIRD ENTRY.

>- 13 YEARS 11 MONTHS. SIX DAYS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Well, it’s a strange thing to be back up here again – we are repairing the fractures to the hull before we bring everything back online and make entry to the ‘Side up but even this is enough to start me off down uncanny valley and bring me back down memory lane.

I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if we had jumped a minute earlier, or a minute later – what lives would we have lead if we had missed the flare. Oh well, no use focusing on all the “What ifs” and “Could have beens”. We have a job to do, hopefully my next report should be from onboard the “This Side Up” for the first time in over a decade.


>STARTING TWENTY FOURTH ENTRY.

>- 13 YEARS. 11 MONTHS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Well, the fractures to the ships backbone and superstructure have been repaired and the gravity ring is back online, life support is active again and we are aboard. Amazingly enough the Fusion generator was still active on lowest output for all this time so it didn’t take long to bring it back up to operational status and not the Teth are making their way all the way around the ship, picking apart everything and working out the tech all the way throughout the ship.

It’s a sight to behold, like a colony of worker ants going through the old girls hull and figuring everything out and putting it back together. We have another two weeks of the entire crew aboard before we split into two teams and leave the permanent crew aboard and the rest return to MaTeth to put their findings to good use – just before we left I was shown their next project, a fully capable FTL equipped starship to explore beyond their solar system to explore and research the galaxy.

The thing is, I still have no idea where in the hell we are in the galaxy – I know we are somewhere in the milky way, but there are next to no recognisable star formations anywhere in the observable sky. So as far as I can tell, there is next to no way in hell that we are going to find another human ship in the near future, so its just me, Sara and the Teth.

At least I know we have done some good to the galaxy.


>STARTING TWENTY FIFTH ENTRY.

>- 10 YEARS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

It was Sara’s 16th Birthday today, I have never been so proud of her. If we where on Earth or any of the colonies right now then she would be finishing school and moving onto college. Here on MaTeth she already has a college level eductation with chunks of university level and advanced modules beyond that – Everything I have given to her and the Teth, and the Teth have given to her she has picked up like a sponge. She is now getting ready to help the Teth with the development of their first FTL capable starship, its still in the production phase at the moment, years away from completion.

But I have never been so proud of my little girl.

I looked out the window today – when I arrived on this world, it was on the edge of a world war. The similarities to our own world in the 20th century where apparent everywhere you looked, all the evidence of a world about to shoot itself in the foot.

Then we arrived, and changed everything. They skipped a world war that would kill millions to jump into clean power and fusion technology, had a massive step into the space race that lead to a unified planetary space agency that formed their coalition of nations. I look out onto solar farms, green transport – a pristine world on the verge of a golden age because a Dad and his little girl got lost on the edge of nowhere.

She is about to make her own in the world. I now feel like I am being left behind. My shoulders and neck hurt, and I keep getting headaches. Really bad headaches. My sinuses feel like they are throbbing. Between the supplies I brought down with me and those from the ‘Side I have enough Immunopacks and meds to make do for a while.

Hopefully it is just a phase.


>STARTING TWENTY SIXTH ENTRY.

>- 8 YEARS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Sara came to see me today, the Teth FTL ship is finished – she brought me the design specs to go over.

To be honest, most of what she has adapted is beyond me – advancements on tech I didn’t even fully understand myself. She has adapted their original design into a 100 man cruiser that would be on par with one of our old patrol frigates. An Explorer and research vessel to be the first of a series of dozens from an orbital shipyard design she has put forward to the Teth governments, which they then approved.

She just jumps from strength to strength.

Apparently she is going on the first jump trip out to the edge of the system, its going to take a few months to get that far out before they test the drive and then come back again, by the time she comes back she will be 20 years old. Its bad enough she only turned 18 a little while back, but I can’t hold her back any more – it would be hypocritical of me to hold her back here when I’ve let her go so far ahead with everything else.

She hugged me before she left, for a moment I was reminded of the little girl she was when she arrived. I guess this is one of the few gifts of getting old.

She left a short while after that. I didn’t have the heart to tell her how much it hurt, not just her leaving – the pain is getting worse. It feels like my spine and kidneys are on fire.

I need to speak to Yaaluf again soon.


>STARTING TWENTY SEVENTH ENTRY.

>- 7 YEARS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Well, we finally know what is going on. I am glad Sara isn’t here for the bad news.

Apparently my immune system is being suppressed by a local virus I don’t have any defence against – but Sara seems to due to how young she was when we arrived. My pain is being caused by the virus literally eating its way through my nervous system and there doesn’t seem to be a cure.

The Teth have a few compatible drugs that should at least buy me some time and kill some pain, but eventually this thing is going to kill me.

I have years, at least that is an upside – maybe a few more if I keep my exercise and activity levels up.

I have enough time to see Sara come home.


>STARTING TWENTY EIGTH ENTRY.

>- 6 YEARS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Sara landed today – the FTL drive test worked perfectly, the Teth are now a truly space fearing race. Her brain child is what gave it to them.

I hugged her the moment she arrived, I still cannot help but be reminded of the babe in arms when she arrived – holding her in one arm while I had a pistol in the other as the transport doors opened.

Now, she is a grown woman – in her element and forging her own destiny.

We talked, we laughed – and then she left, she has responsibilities now. Yaaluf said I should tell her the truth, I said I would when the time is right.

For the first time in a long time, I am scared.

Scared I won’t be there for her any more.


>STARTING TWENTY NINTH ENTRY.

>- 3 YEARS FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

The pain gets worse daily, I push my way through it. I still talk to Sara daily. Apparently they made a discovery a few days ago, maybe a week.

Radio and video signals, weak and old – from Earth. Hundreds of years old. The very first transmissions to escape our cradle.

The Teth are now seeing our history as it happened for the first time. Part intruiged, part terrified they are putting a mission together with Sara at the helm. To make the first official “contact” with mankind. It’s been 23 years since we where lost in space.

She will be the first human to return from being lost in space to such an extreme, and bringing a first contact situation to boot. She is going to be famous in two different situations and over dozens of worlds.

She didn’t come around to see me again. We spoke briefly from the launch site as they prepared for another launch, the mission is weeks away.

We tell each other that we love each other and then depart. It’s heartbreaking but she has her path to walk as I have mine. Time to prepare.


>STARTING THIRTIETH ENTRY.

>- 1 YEAR FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

Sara has been gone for two years, FTL comms report she has made contact – jumping right in the middle of the trade convoy path of Rigel Kentaurus and scaring the crap out of a local heavy cruiser before making first contact. Everything is slow going now.

I cried all night in happiness and pride before the pain kicked in, then I hobbled my way into bed as the sun rose.

I miss her.


>FINAL ENTRY

>- 1 WEEK FROM OPENING ENTRY.

>AUDIO RECORDING FROM SHIP CAPTAINS LOG.

I have just gotten the word from Yaaluf – I have little over a week left to live. Sara is still a month away.

I wish I hadn't been such a coward about this before.

I told her via the FTL comm. There where tears on both sides, and more than a little awkwardness. I told her not to blame herself for being so far away. I let her walk her path, she should stand out and do everything she wants to do, learn everything she wants to learn. No reason for some daft, weak old man to hold her back any more. When the channel finally closed we set about getting my affairs in order. Yaaluf has been a friend since the start, there is no one else on this world I trust to help me in these final days.

One last entry after this. I need to figure out the words. Might take some time.

Everything hurts so damn much.


>OPENING LOG HAS ALREADY BEEN PLAYED.

>OPEN FILE AGAIN? Y/N

>N

>OPENING ENTRY ADDENDUM

>CAPTAIN – AARON DAVIS.

>REGISTERED CIVILIAN TRADE FRIEGHTER “THIS SIDE UP”

>DECEASED.

>PASSED IN SLEEP. AGED 67. APRIL 12 2387 A.D.


Fin