Brotherhood of Ercedia


Will be on break until this date

New Dispatch
-Brenner McTaggart

It has been three months since I was cleared to go home. I don have one, but I was released anyway. I was certain I would never set foot on a shuttle again. I still hear the breathing and see the red eyes in the pitch sometimes when I have the lights off at night. No one in the UF believed somethin was there. I figured they were right and I had gone a wee bit mad and decided to build meself a quiet cabin near Nonnie’s Lake. I was darned proud of that slab too.

Till thirteen days ago when my fishing was so rudely interrupted.

I’ve accepted a new station, and everything they have told me. Apparently there is work that needs dunne. I don know if what these lads say is true is true or nae but theres war on the horizon and fightin is in my blood. So I will fight. Tomorrow I go back into one of those forsaken bathtubs and won’t unfreeze till we get to our deployment. I don like the thought of giving up and runnin away so we can come back swingin later, but I plan to swing like a mabear when I return. These new Brotherhood boys don’t seem to mind my occasional seein ghosts, and I don mind they play off-book. It was the brass that left me frozen and called me mad, and if they refuse to let me fight, then call me a pirate! You cannot keep a McTaggart DOWN!


Waking in me own sick.
The Journal of Brenner McTaggart

I’ve been in stasis gel for a long time, I can tell cause the sens’tive parts are startin to chafe and the headache is massive. As much as it made the retching worse the floor smelling so distinctly of disinfectant and vomit helped me feel more at home I think, even as I knelt on the floor of the stasis room. Almost all of my sick drained through the grate below me—I don’t know that there were any solid foods in there. Its been months since I ate. And oh how I hankered to eat.

Tomorrow. My body will be better’nough tomorrow to eat. Blight the sun. I almost died. I cannau hold the pen and me voice is bout lost from the dictation so ill away. talk more later.

Salvage Recovery
-Zack Dankirk, Engineer Report

>>Start Recording. ID Zack Dankirk, First engineer’s report aboard ELD Juror.

>Aah, Salvage consists of a recovered escape craft, apparently Ercedian or UF, of unknown designation. I assume something befell the parent craft, but curiously no logs nor beacon can be recovered to provide clues. A datapad was recovered, smashed to bits but still recoverable. It appears that whatever was recorded was wiped clean however, most likely within the last couple days. I do see several communiques were sent and self-erased. Impressive work. Perhaps the tablet of an intelligence operative.

>The craft itself is intact. Some minor damage outside, perhaps from debris scoring the plate as it passed, it is hard to tell. It almost looks deliberate.

>It will take us a moment to assess the status of the only survivor, but at first glance I would say that sensory deprivation worked heavily on him before he expired. He remains strapped to the back, an apparent jam in the belt causing the mechanism to stick, but some relaxation of force on the upper body removed the jam. It appears the subject attempted to put on a pressure suit while he was wearing the straps, and has worked his fingers raw in doing so. the suit is mostly on his legs and partially over his torso, but it is clamped over the strap in several places and it looks like he did little more than get the helmet and gloves on. There is a radio on the floor, dashed to pieces. Intentionally it looks like, and further intentional damage to the pad and screen, like reported previously.


>Alright… The doctor has deemed the subject alive though he appears catatonic. Further inquiry will be made. No further information can be gathered at this time.


-Emirek Silva


>>Someone was reading all my logs over 150 characters. I don’t know how many were read or how they got past the encryption, but I spent 30,000 creds for a better one. I have a VI cyclic key with down to the second verification. I have to put my passwords in several times and in various ways and it is designed to reject it the first time I get it right. Hopefully this will keep whoever-it-is OUT.

>>I have been officially open-quote reassigned close-quote. unofficially I have been fired. I don’t know what everything has been trout but I do know that something in this whole mess was monitored by higher ups WAY up the chain. I left before I could disappear. I don’t know if anything will come of it, but I said my findings to my wife’s brother in the resistance so if it comes to it and I am wrong, then at least I have put it in better hands. I know I am not the most clever man, but I know something is going on. And I know UFI knows about it.

>>I have been waiting outside this agent’s office for about an hour. He set me down and asked me not to wander off. I am smart enough not to. The fact that I got in to UFI in the forst place tells me I am on the right track. Hopefully auld melon head does something with the information. I plan to make my cake and demand protection. Beamin Jerome was just here a moment ago, and for me a couple questions and warned me to not record outloud anymore. He asked trimly quiet about the pod. He played music. Don’t know what thats about, but I bet he doesn’t have this encryption. My recording is safe. They are calling me in. I guess I will send a copy of this to Layla. for safekeeping. or leverage. yeah.>>[end recording.]

-Brenner McTaggart

No one is coming. it is harfd to write because the suit is riough and my fingers are still beleeding from earlier. I managed to get out of the straps far enought o reach the other side and get t=he suit,. I dont knwo wehen i last eat. I mneed sleep but I cant ewhen there is somethign outside. every so often i hear it. crawling slowly outside like it is liooking for a way in. I know it hasd tried the hatch at least twice but it cant get it open,. it mst be stuck. anytime it gets too curious i make noise on the other side and it stops. i dont know if it confused or if it only hunts in silence, but the quiet is becoming my home. the radio no longer works and i knwo they have givben up on me a long time ago. I am not angry. space its so large. they probably tried but it is so lorge. I can’t reach the screen. I cant reach the screen. It is so close. It was hard to get the suit on under the straps, i hoiped that i could pry it enough to get free, nbut after a few hours of wroking it i managed to pull it through. I lamost lost lthe legs but they came eventually . latching it was difficult and the straps are even tighter now but I have to survive if it opens the door. I think. I dont know why i bother. will the cold take moe or the hunger. wither is finew. maybe if I get free i can leave. it would be faster.
I can hear it agian. I t scrpaes along the side and it pushes and knocks. I hear the thumps as it works it s way around. it is getting more bold. it is so quiet. it is so quiet. it is so quiet. its quiet. I have to be quiet.
Firey gates wehn i get hiome I am going to bE LOUD MCTAGGART. I will rage FOR DAYS. I must.
what if it is inside. iaf it was studying me. it is darkm, and the light plays across the dust ai hear it move. i has to be in here it has ben too long. did I pass out
I have to be quiet. If it wants the ship i dont need it. I have to be quiet. at
Brenner McTaggart
Highlands home center, mothers side reccomentdation.
15838519 15838519 15838519
quiet. Its here. I have to turn the lights off.
nowe i cant see what I tuype. dint worry for me. I will survive this. I know it is only a matter of timwe fvefore I am saves. 15828519 15838519 I can do this,.I am stong ewnough to surcicw,.
qyiwet. I must be quiaetr.
I can feel its breath….
goda helpo me.

Alone (Journal Entry 339)
-Brenner McTaggart

I should write. I have to record thoughts I guess. I donr have the lights on, and i cant leave. I am drowning in quiet. How long has it been. I have eaten three times, so I guess it has been a couple days. Ive started picking up small frequencies on the radio. little bursts here or there I can hear them like there is just a little more pause and a blip and I kow if i had a more precise instrument i might be able to call out. I tried to fix it, but i broke it and now i need to hold it together. I can hear something it sounds like a voice but I can’t respond. I can’t use the datapad, I can’t get it apart and it is my only spource of light. I cant call out to them. I feel like they are getting fainter. They will give up soon. Everyone has to eventually. At least I havnt been found by puirates. Ihave been thinking, what if it was the Kryp? They could survivce in the black. maybe it caused the explosion and the leaks.
maybe it is here now.
I heard something. I can’t tell what it was. something scraping outside, it has been quiet but i know it is there. There can’t be something outside but I knowit is. I know I heard it. I cant reach my mask, but if I can get it on I might survibve linger if it breaks the seal. I have to think of the hopme. I can’t let this get to me.
I have to go.

I heard it i m sure.

Journal Entry 337
-Brenner McTaggart

It took me so long to get the journal. It was floating just out of reach and drifting slowly, and then I sat here for almost ten minutes not knowing where to start. I don’t know how long it has been. I assume it has been over a week since I wrote last. A lot has happened. The captain was the first to notice a power fluctuation. He must have heard it or somthing, as he wasn’t near any of the screens. Maybe he saw it fluctuate. Maybe Maylle is right, and the Captain has an implant, gets ship readings mentally. All I know is if it wernet fot him we wouldnt be alive now. He immediately gave the order for yus to evacuate.
As best I can tell, someone on board sabotaged us on purpose. We were within sensor range from home, and running hard, having just broke safe space, and something blew. I don’t know how many died. I didn’t see any of my mates when I got to the pods, so I left, as per protocol. I am alone. Oh gods did I do wrong? Did I kill any o’em? I hope not.
I can’t see much, the room has stopped spinning, and I have eaten ablut half the rations from the wall here, so Im gonna have to cut loose soon. I am going about mad with the quiet. ITS SO QUIET. I have the radio on, just to drown it out. Just static. no one is talking, or no one is there to talk. Or maybe its damaged. I kow the screen is. [writing illegible] nightmares. [writing illegible] a lighthouse. It was nice. The rest [writing illegible]…
The panic is welling up. The seat is jammed and I cannot get loose, I am on my own, running out of food, and my throat hurts. I were screamin at the black earlier. Felt good to make noise. I wanted to write a bit in the hopes that someone finds it, and then I am gonna use the stylus to try to needle through the strap. If I break atmosphere I will be real sad that I cut my saftey harness if I canno get the otehr off, but Ifn I am spinning into the black away from home I need to reach the controls.
Pray for me momma. Sue for guidance father. I am determined to get home alive.
First step, get free. Second, get some lights on. L treally hope that someot this is viable, and I hope to see you soon.
I hope the others made it.

Journal Entry 329
-Brenner McTaggart

It seems like a long time ago I was debating what to write, trying to find words to fill a page. I apologize for not writing more, but we have been busy and I don’t much feel like writing. I reckon once I can get home and go out and enjoy the scenery and the old fishing lakes that things will improve, that is I hope I havenot permanently been soured from the ship air.
Nothing has happened much since the last couple of prowlers have been sorted out. Home should be just through the trees. A few days now. Long range sensors sees that true. I am so grateful to Maylle. She has recovered faster than any of us, at least visibly. She and I were put back on IntDef, though there has been no cause for us to work. I can’t think much, everyones been chippin recent. Thoughts around is a gas leak, slow and steady. headaches to confirm, but it was patched today we think. still, things are quiet and sleepy, and focused when we are on deck. Everything is better once we are back on course. Had a funeral yesterday. launched 2 escape pods into the void, of the bodies that were left. risky to do when running soft, but captain says it was safe enough. Should be home soon. Promished Maylle I’d introduce you to ’er when we get there.

Journal Entry 325
-Brenner McTaggart

I didn’t write yesterday, didn’t have time. Even now, I should be sleeping. I was on IntDef across from Maylle and I am sure we were mid-conversation when the lights went on. Someone was an idiot.
Amber gave way to red in only a few seconds and despite the heat a chill took over my gut. I remember that it was hard to hear and I tasted metal. I remember feeling hungry and sick at the same time, My arms felt numb and buzzy. I was afraid. I remember Maylle looked pale and slightly green. And then everything was a flurry of movement.
The Captain burst on deck and the slam of the door shut everyone up. His voice was steady and even, but angry. He said “Collect your minds. We’re less than ten from combat.” He issued orders quickly, and we followed. Vent heat. Restore all systems. Shields. Charge capacitors. Come about. Heading.
Maylle and I moved as our station was dropped to provide more pathing for pilot crews. May was moved somewhere and I was put on radar with a felt named Picot and a grunt I’d never met from the Brigandine. Two blips coming in hard, 31 points abaft the beam—I remember the readout and thinking they were going to catch us broad. At some point round then the cold air hit like a shock. It was quiet.
The first hit was nearly unavoidable. We all did our jobs, but we were still rocked by the pulse— tore right through the shields which still hadn’t matrixed. A breach down by the mess on the officer’s deck claimed fifteen hands. The airlock doors slamming down claimed another poor grunt.
One of the ships turned hard like it was fleeing. The systems came up fully and EWDS jammed them, attacking through the void with nought but radio waves or whatever blight they use. We gave our reading, but the computers did most of the work. We counter-measured an attack a couple more times before they shot us again, a precise shot that tore apart top-deck somewhere. XO Ericsson died up there with another dozen. The hit made everything spin, and air intake was damaged and pumping coolant, so everyone got sick real quick before it was shunted.
I remember the fear, and reminding myself that Destroyers are meant to hunt Prowlers. I had a pounding headache, like the kind you get when you hold your breath too long. Corrections were made, and we finally had aligned for a firing solution and three shots tore the first Prowler from keel to stern. It broke apart on radar. Twenty seconds later we lined up the second ship, and it surrendered, flashing its lights and venting buffers. I felt more numb than elated, but some people cheered. The captain sent the marines of first-crew to take the ship and ordered all heat vented. There is no hiding the mess and the signal jamming was loud enough to be heard for lights around, but the captain had us make preparations to run soft again anyway. Second crew was sent to clean up and help with repairs, which is what I spent most of my day doing.
Reinard and I worked together on the upper deck mess. Several beams had been melted inward, exploding as they expanded too fast from inside. Shivers killed a few before we could get to ‘em. The hole itself was a simple matter to patch, it was only two-meters wide once the hull was cleared of slag. Small shot, meant to explode inside the ship. I found an amputated hand skewered on a bent piece of beam stuck to the floor. It was bandaged. I pocketed it in the hopes of identifying it from a prior injury log. Maybe someone would have something to bury.
It took the rest of the day to repair the damage and patch it up. I feel terrible for wishing for a change of pace yesterday. Part of me regrets things, like coming here at all. Part of me is angry. I didn’t care, but I want to know now. Why are so many pirates hunting this girl? Why is she so valuable to the Brotherhood that they would send a Silent Destroyer to pick her up covertly? Why is so much of the crew new, and WHY don’t we ask for help from the UF?
Most of my rage is directed at the idiots and waifs who figured the heat was too much and decided to vent it. I guess that is why we were detected, and scuttlebutt reflects that. Apparently several technicians disobeyed orders and decided to vent the outer buffer a little at a time, leaving a trail for the last few days. Captain has hurled four men in the brig awaiting court-martial at the very least.
I haven’t seen Maylle since the attack.

Fourteen days.

-Brenner M


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