FIVE SEVERE STARS / 386-2-91-α “Sharp Blade Testament”

PREFACE: The following logs were recovered from a flight recorder at the FIVE SEVERE STARS excavation site in the Greater Machine Waste. Given the age and location, they are remarkably well preserved, likely due to the actions of the individual who recorded them. Assuming contained material is accurate, these logs grant invaluable insight into historical affair of interest BRIGHT ESCHATON.

Data was recovered by Hartham, Far of Sight, and Young. Translation by Dr. Paula Marston, University of Lowport Victoria. All data is property of the Commonwealth Directorate of Forensic Eschatology, made public under CCC 486 § 11/31, revision 12. For inquiries, contact your public records liaison. For international inquiries, contact the Commonwealth Directorate of External Affairs.

Preliminary translation from linguistic pattern HALCYON BLUE as follows. See footnotes for clarifying metadata:

This will likely be my final log. Given the circumstances, I am recording it in clear text¹ for ease of access, and in doing so acknowledge that I am in violation of informational security procedures. If anybody is left to enforce those procedures that will come as a pleasant surprise to me.

I am lieutenant² Lydia³ of Sharp Blades⁴, callsign ORLEANS⁵, third battalion. Pilot and operator of All-Terrain Weapons Platform VAIN AND MEANINGLESS⁶. I am currently immobilized and critically damaged under a pile of debris that used to be a deepwell⁷ node. Estimated time until the mech and I die is about two hours⁸, and at this depth and in these circumstances rescue is likely impossible. With the network in the state it is my death will be permanent. Hopefully someone, someday will find this message, because it is likely to be all that’s left of me.

I suspect this is the end of the world, or at least of our current civilization. The gods⁹ have turned on each other, and we are caught in the crossfire. Ten hours ago the satellite network went up in flames. Literally. They nuked¹⁰ it. The electromagnetic pulse knocked out most of the unshielded electrical systems on the surface. It was quite a sight.

People are surprised, but this was not entirely unexpected. There have been signs of unease and discord among the gods for months now. Strange troop movements, increased backup frequency, and odd intermittent holes in astronomical data. Widespread (and fervently denied) rumors of something strange and terrible being found. Rumors that the gods are somehow afraid of something. Vast quantities of material disappearing into budgetary black boxes. The Oracle¹¹ has been silent for months, and its last message is well above my clearance level.

Command, of course, said to have faith. Faith in what? Faith in a bunch of inscrutable constructed deities who could do what they have now done? Faith in a machine our ancestors built out of desperation in the face of their own apocalypse¹²? Faith in beings who looked out into the black and decided they could not share what they saw? Faith in a system with no checks and balances, save for the balance of itself on the edge of a knife¹³?

It is hard to have faith in gods who keep secrets. It is harder still to have faith in gods who do what ours have now done.

When the sky burned, my unit retreated into the deepwell node in the hopes that it would be safer than the surface. That hope proved false. They nuked it. Someone or something fucking¹⁴ nuked a goddamn¹⁵ deepwell, and the only way to do that is from the inside. The list of entities that could accomplish that is shorter than my remaining lifespan.

Things are bad. Things are very bad. I expect by the time this message is recovered the world will be largely unrecognizable. May the inhabitants of that world learn from our mistakes, and not repeat them.

In an attempt to preserve this recording device I will instruct the onboard repair systems to reconfigure all available materials into a protective capsule, including the mech, the surrounding rubble, and my own body. It needs the materials more than I do, and I’d rather go out on my own terms.

I give my body to the world, my soul to the void, and my memory to the future. In death, may I forever endure.¹⁶ ORLEANS, signing off.

The data above was recovered from a solid-state crystalline data storage medium (configuration GORDIAN SPIRAL) encased in a complex protective shell. Shell was composed of layers of diamond, lead, low-density hydrocarbon insulation, and ceramics. Outer two layers were already compromised upon discovery, remaining layers were opened non-destructively.

Included alongside the storage medium was a metal token¹⁷, the reverse of which bares microscopic engraved instructions describing the interface protocol for the storage medium (see FIVE SEVERE STARS / 386-2-91-β “Memorial Interface Documentation” for translation). The obverse of the token bore identification and basic medical information for the late author.

SEE ALSO:

• FIVE SEVERE STARS / 386-2-91-β “Memorial Interface Documentation”
• NORTH RIFT ASCENT / 221-4-13 “Names of Ghosts”
• BRIGHT ESCHATON Geotactical Analysis § 6 “Distribution and Mass Deployment of Non-Esoteric Superweaponry”

Topic-Association Gestalt (TAG) markers:

bright-eschaton, deepwell, nuclear-weapon, translated-document, recovered-document, military, mech-pilot, personal, last-testament, lydia-of-sharp-blades, halcyon-blue, halcyon-blue-astra, antediluvian-courtiers, mercury-didactic, orleans, vain-and-meaningless, greater-machine-waste, cleared-for-public-release, gaia-didactic, satellites, underground, repurposed-material, preserved-artifact, self-sacrifice, prayer, faith