The Sprague Diaries

[jammi]

11/06/819 - PERSONAL ENTRY

It keeps getting hotter in here - the air con is doing its best, but it's not calibrated for prolonged, equatorial heat. No-one is talking much. They're worried about being stuck, and looking forward to someone bailing us out. Leon can't give field repairs a go until the storm lets up, and even if he could, the damn ship is sat on the damaged component. We'd need to overcharge the other repulsors to keep us in the air and stable enough to work on.

The storm has been going for just over a day now, and doesn't seem to be letting up. Worst thing is, comms are still down. The sand seems to be generating a charge as it hits the hull. It's dampening our sensors and killing any incoming or outgoing transmissions. We can't even tap into the weather grid to see how much longer we're in for this. Even that small mercy would relieve some of the damn tension. What a bloody disaster!

I swear I can feel the deck sliding as well. My handheld has a spirit level display built in. Maybe I'll have it take a reading overnight, set my mind at ease...

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12/06/819 - PERSONAL ENTRY

The only thing that eased is my bowels. Not good. Not good at all - we're subsiding. The ship is rolling to its port side as the dune we're on is dissolved by the storm. Which I might add, is still bloody going! At this point, we don't even know if HQ got our emergency report. Could be that we're stranded here with no-one knowing any better. The required daily sign-off might even be overlooked if they knew we were heading into a bad atmo patch... I don't like thinking about it.

I spoke to the Capt' about the slide as well. He thanked me for pointing it out, and said we'd put the remaining repulsors on heavy burn later on, if the situation got any worse. I can understand that he doesn't want to overly tax what we have left, but if we roll on our back, that's my spine and several million credits of investment down the drain. Penny pinching isn't helping anyone here! The bloke has his head so far up his own rectum, it's popped out his throat again! Tempers are rising with the rest of the crew, as well.

Where we don't have any duties, most of us are just staying in our bunks and keeping to ourselves whenever we can. Probably for the best. Already heard terse words in the corridors. If we don't get moving again soon, we might have a serious problem on our hands.

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