It has been [1 month] since the first confused reports came through the 'Caster Network, of the attack on the Citadel and then elsewhere.
The first warning came through not from what was said or done, but from what was lost. The Ceremony of Unification, interrupted by the Caretakers[?] suddenly breaking from their tasks. The Citadel itself moving – not to the defensive form only rarely used by us, and unneeded since the early part of the latest war – into a new unknown configuration. The transmission showing everyone not panicked or frightened, merely puzzled or simply irritated.
A brief glimpse of dark shapes in the distance, then nothing but darkness and static.
For a [day] after that we were unable to receive anything due to the 'Caster network being overloaded with communications traffic. As a precaution, I delayed the drone pod scheduled to take the past [years] data to the Citadel. I also ordered a temporary lock on all the vehicles to prevent my staff from attempting to use the Relay in any foolhardy attempts to get to the Citadel. Many had relatives and friends there.
Within [3 days] alert broadcasts from the Homeworld[?] informed us that, for reasons unknown, all contact with the Citadel had been lost and all ships attempting to reach the Citadel had also been lost. All planets and outposts were to assume martial law status until "the issue could be corrected" and only Primary military and governmental forces were authorised to use the FarCaster[?] Network until further notice.
We were stuck here, on a minor scientific monitoring outpost near a small backward planet with no civilization worth the name until someone could come and get us. We couldn't even call for help until someone remembered we were here.
[1 week] ago, after a brief series of panicked, unintelligible transmissions, the Homeworld[?] went silent too.
*CORRUPTED DATA: UNRECOVERABLE*
It has been [7 months] since the initial attack and very little seems to have stopped or even slowed them. I cannot help but wonder if our inability to use the 'Caster may well have been our accidental salvation.
All attempts to organise a fight back or a line of defence have resulted in either simple defeat or utter annihilation by these machines, these so-called "Reapers". I still know almost nothing of them: there are few pictures, no announcements, and no declarations of intent or demands to surrender. All we receive are screams or pleas for mercy that are never paid heed.
All they seem to want from us is our end.
*CORRUPTED DATA: UNRECOVERABLE*
We are making preparations to evacuate.
It has been [2 days] since we received word via the 'Caster via a wide burst high security channel of a safe world, a haven that the Reapers have been unable to reach or attack, which could only be reached by transmitting a specific signal to the Relay, allowing its destination to be changed.
Some of the more knowledgeable members of my force here are concerned by this: it is far more than we have been able to do before now. Others have assured me that we were close to mastering the Relays anyway and that desperate times can breed equally desperate and resourceful measures.
Regardless, the codes used are valid and unbreakable. We now make ready to leave.
*TIME GAP: 4 DAYS ESTIMATED*
Plans to evacuate have been abandoned.
We were making final preparations to leave when another emergency broadcast came through from the most powerful warship we had in the 3rd Highborn fleet, the Imperative Ascendant. Only a partial message was received, which follows:
"(signal noise) trap! This (signal noise) set up by traitors (signal noise) collaborators, (signal noise) all messages from this location should be disregarded. We are attempting to withdraw from"
There was no more after that.
*TIME GAP: 2 MONTHS ESTIMATED*
There have been other attempts saying similar things. I hope no one heard them. If they did, then I hope their deaths were quick.
I look at the sky from our base, in the direction of the Relay. Will it bring these Reapers here? Do we have any time at all?
Of my 128 personnel 17 have… elected to not find out. The Ritual for them is tomorrow.
*CORRUPTED DATA: UNRECOVERABLE*
We have received orders, albeit none specifically meant for us. All Primitive Culture study forces are to cease operation immediately and evacuate leaving no trace if possible. It is hoped – what a foolish word to use – that they will be ignored if we are nowhere near them.
It is my thought they wish the asar, primitives that they are – they can barely even draw, let alone write! – to be left alone for some reason. They are amongst the most potentially capable of the lower species, but why any would think they could survive something the Empire cannot is beyond my imagining.
These orders provide nowhere for us to run to, I should add.
I no longer care. I no longer hope. Nothing that comes though the FarCasters[?] gives me any reason to.
And as for these pointless furred animals on this systems world, why should these savages outlive our oh-so-mighty Empire? Where is the Cosmic Imperative in this? It is a farce, it is ridiculous! It should not happen!
…none of this should have happened.
*TIME GAP: 1 WEEK ESTIMATED*
I listen to my earlier words and I now ask myself another question: "…Why should they not survive?"
*CORRUPTED DATA: UNRECOVERABLE*
*TIME GAP: 19 MONTHS ESTIMATED*
...reprisals may be felt to be harsh, but I can allow nothing from here to leave via the Relay. They will be noted in the Record of Loss. To be commended are...
*CORRUPTED DATA: UNRECOVERABLE*
*TIME GAP: 4 YEARS ESTIMATED*
We have a plan. There is some hope. But not for us.
My lead engineer had an idea, it was insane, and it means we all will die here, far from the places we were born. No-one to remember us, to know of our passing, or even care.
I look at the 'Caster, which I have come to hate, and I know that none of us expect rescue now anyway. So we have done this absurd thing.
We have manoeuvred millions of tons of ice to the Mass Relay in an effort taking months, rewritten the protocols for the cores of our ships not to send us at speeds that defy reality, but to amplify the Effect field of the Relay in such a way that it will pull the ice to it and prevent it from doing anything, ever again.
We will lock this thing that held so much promise for so long, and now promises only death, in ice and rock for an eternity.
There are 14 vehicles at this facility. It will need at least 4, I have committed 8.
They will have to be triggered manually. Of our remaining staff 16 have volunteered to pilot the ships, as have I. The others have decided to go to the 3rd planet and do what they can to Uplift and improve the species there. I hold no great hopes for their success.
I will leave them nothing capable of travel outside an atmosphere. I cannot risk it.
There is no future for us.
I should destroy this station, but… no. I will leave it operational and recording. It will remain here as a memorial to whatever legacy the universe sees fit to grant.
And if the beings on this systems planet do survive to gain the stars, I hope they find something here, or out there that lets them survive what ever happened to us.
*DATA STREAM END*
RUN 708 COMPLETED. VOCAL TRANSLATION ACCURACY CONFIRMED AT 94.73%.
ALL WORDS WITH ALTERNATIVE OR UNCERTAIN TRANSLATION TAGGED WITH [?] ON VISUAL INTERFACES.
PRESS TAG AND [COM7] FOR FULL LISTS.
WARNING: TIME/DATE TRANSLATIONS STAND AT 90% APPROXIMATION. VOCAL AND VISUAL INTERFACE NOTATIONS APPLIED.
SAVE RUN? [Y/N] Y
Facility 18. Mars.
"Lieutenant, did you really stand watch over all those runs personally?"
"Well, hardly every second of each one but, unless I was mistaken, it seemed to be the base commanders personal reports. I felt it warranted the extra attention."
"I still think you're crazy. But it's the kind of crazy I can live with if it gets information from anything that badly degraded. Good work."
"Whoever programmed the VIs deserves most of that credit, although..."
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Well, will this really be of any use?"
"We can't be sure, but I think it will. It reinforces some of the other work we've done and other Intel received"
"Oh?"
"...Classified. I shouldn't have mentioned it. Forget I did."
"Yes, sir. If you'll excuse me, I have other files to work on."
"Dismissed, Lieutenant."
"Sir."
As the door closed behind the officer, the man sighed, staring at the interface on his desk.
"Yes, it confirms far too damned much… Begin transmission on my authorisation to the following addresses…"