Stardate 7396.4
Lieutenant (jg) Riven Maris – Personal Log Stardate 7396.4
First mission. Real mission. No simulations, no Academy tutors breathing down my neck, and no coffee replicators set to "training mode." Just a simple delivery to Xerxes IV to restock a science station that apparently can’t function without weekly pallets of power cells and nutrient paste.
Of course, Thelin got yanked away mid-run because some beacon out in the middle of nowhere went offline. "Probably nothing," they said. "Just handle the drop," they said.
Anyway, we took the shuttle down. No surprise—Xerxes IV has a lovely magnetic storm system going on. Real moody. I had to pilot us through it with visibility at near-zero, while the turbulence threw half our cargo into someone’s lap. We landed safely. Not where we were supposed to, but safely. A few klicks off target, which I’m told still counts as “acceptable proximity” in freighter terms.
We’ve tucked the shuttle under a rock shelf and slapped some foliage on it—very advanced concealment. If it doesn’t fool orbital sensors, maybe it’ll confuse a grazing herbivore.
The good news? We brought local attire. The bad news? It smells like musty canvas and fermented root wine. But hey—nothing says “low-profile” like stumbling through a forest in someone else’s itchy robes hoping we don’t offend the cultural norms.
We’re proceeding to the station on foot. If I don’t make it back, tell Delta Shift it was their fault.
