To celebrate the start of Trainfest, we've decided to launch a series of conductors logs, telling the tale of a survivor who wakes up in familiar circumstances.
It wasn't meant to be like this.
When we left Earth, we were promised that by the time we arrived on Inara, the world would have been terraformed into a paradise, a place where we could not just live, but thrive.
But that's not what I found when I woke up.
When my cryo pod cycled and I came to, I wasn't greeted by smiling faces or a colony ready to welcome us. Instead, I woke to... nothing. No voices. No laughter. No other people. Just the hum of my pod shutting down.
At first, I assumed something had gone wrong. Maybe I'd awakened early. Maybe it was just a software malfunction and one of the robot custodians would be along shortly to set things right.
Reality hit me quickly.
Eventually, I pulled myself out of the pod, my stomach rumbling. It had technically been over fifty years since I'd last eaten. I found a ration pack beside another cryo pod and devoured it without hesitation. Curious, I looked inside the pod beside mine.
It was empty.
With my hunger satisfied, I began exploring. Before long, I found a crumpled maintenance robot lying motionless on the floor. Beside it rested a pistol and a handful of ammunition. My exosuit reported my vitals were stable, so I pressed onward.
The moment I stepped into the next corridor, gunfire erupted.
I'm no soldier, nor some kind of hero, but fear has a way of sharpening your reflexes. I dove behind cover before firing back, hoping at least a few shots would land.
They did.
Then I saw what I'd shot.
A robot.
Not malfunctioning.
Not defending itself.
Hunting me.
That wasn't supposed to happen. We expected challenges on Inara, but not hostile machines. As panic crept into my chest, I heard more metallic footsteps echoing through the facility.
Someone, or something, was coming. Come back tomorrow for the next part!