One has the ability to see through walls.


Long days, long nights and it's all the same. Not that I'm bored or anything.
Corp fashioned us with many diversions, and that's always appreciated, especially on missions like these. No one likes to tempt uncertainty when approaching the unknown. Currently, diversions are the best ways for us to escape from our own nervous calculations.
Not all of these missions have had happy endings, although that's apparently down to negligence. Too many rumours, too much speculation, too much worry. The thing that really makes this feel so different isn't the nervous anticipation; it's the story. The background - the reasons for discovery and the certain truths. I'm so used to dark stories in human space, but this is certainly beyond us. Far, far beyond us.
People both have and haven't come back, and the ones that did were sometimes the same, and sometimes different. There are too many variables - an ocean of theories with no solid ground. Perhaps the reason why they invested so much in this mission is to find a little island of truth.
This ocean is black and it has a heartbeat, muffled by background radiation. It feels like there's a wall in front of all of us - something that's stopping us from seeing more.
My word, if the other crew read some of the things I've written here, they'd put me down for internal therapy. That's the thing though - seeing what I've seen - thinking alone won't force things to make sense, it'll widen the gaps of curiosity.
There's a wall out there and it's waiting for us to open it.


I'm having concerns about Oscar. It's... Nothing obvious, at least not to other people as far as I can tell, and I'm not going to question it in case of starting some self-fulfilling prophecy of instability. He's distant and different. He's been phasing out more. Some of us were noted to look out for extended periods of reflection on the journey - I mean it's nothing completely out-of-the-ordinary on journeys as long as this, but it's still something. Something more than nothing.
Everyone was chosen for this mission for a reason, and some of us have more insight than others. Some of us have abilities and tasks that others are unaware of. Maybe this is something to do with it. Maybe he sees something, or maybe he has second thoughts. Regardless, I'm making a note of it as a reference.
Other than all of that, the journey is progressing exactly as predicted. People seem to be on high spirits. After all, we have a collection of months remaining. Everyone knows the ETA - there's graffiti on bedroom walls and plates and maintenance boxes - 2105:12:22. Just before Christmas. People are going to get all sentimental about missing their families again.


Dominic and I have started a bit of a betting game amongst our little group of pseudo-gamblers. We're all coming up with creative things for what we're going to find on arrival. It's an opportunity to get closer to each other, I think - we stir feelings of both excitement and fear, telling stories of vibrant wonderlands and abyssal deathtraps. What else are we to do? We're human, we project ideas and I wholly expect that corp put us all together knowing this.
When we're alone though, that's when it gets deep. The two of us talk for hours about it, staring for far too long at the ceiling of our room. Everyone seems to avoid talking about certain rumours when we're all together, as if they don't want to look like they're losing their stability over stories from previous exhibitions. It shows though - when we get creative and come up with stories - some people let their worries leak into their own stories and that's how you can tell when they've been thinking about it alone at night.
Alien worlds. Dead technology. Ancient vaults. Along with things that really shouldn't exist. It's almost therapeutic to write it out so plainly. To be honest, I really don't like the anticipation - I want to be there and jump right in. This will be the first time Dominic would have tagged along on an exhibition, and hopefully it'll be something to remember.


It's strange to say that, and it's making it really difficult to get some sleep. We are so close now. Corp had a pre-recorded message stored in the banks of the on-board assistant, where no one else can access. It was set to play at a specified time - our standardised time for the third meal of the day (19:00:00). It was largely motivational, expressing the importance of what we were doing, how we would be written into the history-banks etc.
Everyone is excited, but also nervous. We've grown to find comfort in this place, and it's a weird sensation coming to terms with the fact that our lifestyles are going to change overnight.
There were two primary methods of establishing a planetside base: mothership up or mothership down.
Tactically, mothership down is more applicable for longer-term operations so that's the preferred method. I will have the final call on that. If we are prevented from bringing the mothership down into a structurally stable position, then we can keep it in orbit and drop the habs and all necessary craft. The only issue with this is that the mothership has a huge energy supply on-board along with all the best tech for repairs and fabrication, so if these services were required, we'd have to establish a ferry system which will be a bit tedious and pose more safety risks.
So that's the plan - we emerge from a safe warp, do a local analysis of the planet and anomalous signatures for a couple of days in high orbit, and then after that we finally descend.
This is going to be a ride for sure.