I ran. Well, more stumbling and limping than running. But nevertheless, I was moving away from It. I had to get away from this. Alone, separated from the other survivors. But I didn't care. I just ran. Away from it, away from them. Empty plasma rifle by my side, wrinkled, ripped imperial uniform. I wonder if this was all just an evil, disgusting test planed by the Empire. I don't know. I don't know how the virus escaped, or what the people were thinking, all I know is that it got out and changed people. Killed them. Mutated them. Zombified them. Even though it did escape, We thought we contained it. We made a vaccine and everything. But it still got through. The zombies killed and zombified the immune and the people with the vaccine. We hid. We ran. We fought. We lost on all fronts. Just too many. We were soon cut off from the vaccine, so people just became zombies. We ran out of ammo, so we used our guns like clubs. Some of us tried to escape with ships, but the zombies learned to use the tractor beam. So we're stuck on Vector, this god-forsaken hell-hole.
Let me remind you. So I was running. Or Limping. You know. Then I saw this escape pod. I knew I couldn't use it, but I could hide in it. I went over, pressed in the code, went in then closed the hatch. So here I am, recording this on my hand held recording thing. If you find this, run, like I did. Get off, get away. So this is me, Lieutenant John Stevens saying goodbye.