Admittedly, we may be broken beyond repair. We crashed here on this seemingly sentient planet nearly four days ago, and after a near-constant onslaught of harsh elements, such as explosive volcanoes, acid rain storms and suffocating fog, as well as insane monsters and an unimaginably powerful warrior, our crew of 12 has suffered casualties, losses of hyper-abilities, severe injuries and near-breaks with sanity, while the Stratalight’s functionality continues to decrease in proportion to the growing ineffectiveness of the crew as a whole.

If Captain Noble were still alive, he would use his steely demeanor and even-keel approach to weigh all options, take suggestions from his shipmates, and lay out a detailed plan. But I am not Captain Noble, and while I was trained by my superiors to proceed in a similar manner, my approach is a lot less diplomatic. Right now, we don’t need a meeting of the minds; right now, we need a kick in the butt.

However, after our most recent battle against this planet and its horrors, I do acknowledge I must give the crew a little time to recover before getting back to work. Doctor Robotica is doing her best to heal the myriad of physical wounds as fast as she can, and Placebo is attempting to deal with the mental trauma suffered by several of the crew members. But time is short, and I cannot stress how imperative it is we don’t linger any longer than absolutely necessary. The one upside to this downtime is that I’m forced to sit here and make an official log entry, as it is utterly important there be a record of everything that is happening here. It also gives me an opportunity to reflect on my own life and career, and how I came to be in command of the most advanced starship ever built.

As a child I always imagined I would do something incredible with my life. I was never okay with sitting idle or waiting around for life to pass me by. In fact, my lack of patience stems all the way back to my time in Maria Victoria’s womb. That is where I first displayed my zeal for jumping head-first into the ocean of life, for it was in my mother’s belly my hyper-abilities awakened. She was approximately 34 weeks pregnant when she and my father, JC Victoria, awoke one night to find newborn me lying calmly in the bed between them. Apparently I had phase-shifted out of my mother’s womb, as there were no physical signs of a natural birth at all. Furthermore, from what I’ve been told, my physical connection to Victoria’s womb was still intact; just in a ‘state-of-phase’.

We went to the hospital that night, where the doctors were confused, impressed, and in total shock. I was as healthy as any baby ever, and after a special operation with a hyper-phase laser, the chord was officially cut and my mother was on her way to a full recovery.

The extraordinary circumstances surrounding my birth, along with my initially uncontrollable tendency to turn invisible several times throughout any given day, led many in the Southern California city of San Bernardino, where I grew up, to question whether or not I was actually a ghost. In school, while most kids with hyper-abilities were seen as cool, I was feared. Kids would pick on me, even going so far as to call me names like “the little cursed girl” or “Casper, the unfriendly ghost”. This made me combative and defensive, and it was during a fight with some classmates when I discovered the rest of my power set: the ability to create and manipulate force-fields. I quite literally crushed my antagonizers, but mercifully left them alive. Needless to say, I wasn’t called names much after that, at least not to my face.

Honestly, the names never phased me. Despite my sometimes transparent appearance, I had a very thick skin when it came to the words of others. Any negativity foisted my way only served to make me more driven and more determined to show everyone that I was better than them. I excelled in my studies and in sports. And I especially excelled in mastering my hyper-abilities. And I didn’t take no crap from anyone.

Despite my short temper and stubbornness (or maybe because of it) I graduated with a Masters Degree in Computational Chemistry. I was writing my thesis on Bio-Molecular Fusion, when NASA called and offered me a job. I began as an analyst, but quickly worked my way up and onto several space missions. By the time I was 30, I had been on over a dozen space missions. So when it was announced that the most advanced starship ever conceived was being built and prepped to go further than any other ship had ever gone, I immediately applied for the position of science officer. And though I was clearly the most qualified, I was not selected.

But I was not in the habit of taking no for an answer, and I continued to make my case for a position on the vessel, until finally the powers-that-be had no choice but to appoint me Commander of the Starship Stratalight, second only to the captain. It helped that my ability to produce force-fields and cloaking-fields was powerful enough to engulf a spacecraft, and that my hyper-abilities were compatible with the Hyper-Modulator Unit, created by Chief Two Strike, and implemented by Placebo and Powerline. I never felt so proud in my life, than on the day when I was officially commissioned.

Our current situation is not the first time I’ve commanded the crew. For a year leading up to this maiden voyage of the Stratalight, Noble and I shared the lead on preparations and training ops, as he continued to fulfill his duties as one of the world’s premiere, and most relied upon superheroes. And then, of course, there was the time he disappeared for several months. We would later hear about his adventures on the planet Friki, the world of monsters, and his encounters with the great warrior Astor Rathegalia. For much of the time, I pretended to be unimpressed with his stories, as I felt it was important to maintain a strict demeanor, as a counter to his more pliable approach. I admit that right now, I would give anything to hear one of his tall tales about evil wormhole witches, reclusive Zhibdean masters, mysterious mystical libraries or vicious eleven-headed sea-creatures.

As with most great warriors, Captain Noble died a death worthy of his namesake.

After crashing on this godforsaken planet, our first escape attempt was thwarted by what seems to be an ultra-thick atmospheric layer. We would have quickly recalibrated our systems and attempted a second escape, if not for the fact our lead engineer, Smolder, was swept away by an ocean of lava. Because of his immense strength and his fire-retardant body, we believed him to still be alive. And so, under the direction of Captain Noble, we delayed our plans to take off, and set out to find him. But over the past four days we have not been able to find him, and the horrors we’ve faced have been nearly insurmountable.

The greatest of those horrors was an alien warrior we would come to know as Ominous. We engaged him and were utterly overmatched. We would have all surely met our demise at his hands, if not for the sacrifice of Captain Noble…

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