Chief Engineer’s Personal Log
Stardate 991.8

9 days.

9 days since the USS Noether sent a distress call indicating complete power loss, since something attacked them and ripped the ship apart.

9 days, 6 hours and 37 minutes. I should be doing something, not sitting staring into space, but I can think of nothing that will make any difference. Our only remaining lead evaporated, literally, the warp trails we were following have dissipated and by all appearances, the crew of an entire starship have vanished without a trace. I can’t remember ever having experienced such a sense of helplessness.

A trace of fear lingers. It is illogical, irrational, it serves no purpose, but I cannot fully suppress it.

I recall my father once saying that logic sometimes becomes uncertain when family is involved. At the time I did not understand. I took it as an explanation, a justification for why he came to search the foothills himself, instead of leaving the job to the authorities.

I understand now.