Dr Almeida

(Dr. Almeida is a dark-haired human concerned with saving lives, as far as anyone can tell from the start of this journey.)

So how does that make you feel?

Day 1: 300 Dead, 500 Injured, Crash Landed on planet with rumours of sabotage, much of the xenobiology at least midpoint on the hostility scale and also venomous, no contact with other pods, and running around trying to save lives like I was interning in a war zone with no better stimulant than my own adrenaline. Wherever we are, we have gotten off to a very poor start.

On the plus side, my fellow medics all appear competent to their capabilities. On the down side, the chances of PTSD, grief, isolation and paranoia reducing the colony as a whole to a state worse than the Lost Time Of 21C is dangerously high. Space madness was always expected to take its toll, but things are going to get worse before they get better, I fear.

Day 11: Murder is troubling. Murder for the sake of chaos and destabilisation is downright despicable. A crime of opportunity done for no personal gain, instead to provoke fear and distrust and further crimes of malice... I had hoped it would not fall this far this fast. Perhaps, even, it was only the one inhabitant who could not withstand the strain of space's further frontiers. And yet, the culprit killed simply to send a message of doom and damnation. I both desire to make light of the crime so as to laugh the darkness away - and find the idea of seeing true humour in the circumstances near-impossible.
Redoubling our efforts to get ahead of any failings or glitches, that's the only way I can truly help prevent more of these crimes. Murder shouldn't be easy, life should not be cheap enough to waste. Each life must matter, or it we risk none doing so.