The Pilgrim that wasn't supposed to be there

[Coliz]

Inside the Serendipity

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Bridge 1: command deck, down the rabbit (hell)hole, reaching the bottom

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Mission Record No. 122

[Log Entry: January 26th, 710 A.S. | Unknow System, Delta-6 sector]
Commanding Officer: Capt. Klaus von Tanner | E.V. Morgenstern
Classification: Emergency Operations Log, Survival Protocol Theta-5

“We were ambushed."

"I initiated an emergency course deviation — away from Kappa-9. Instead, we diverted to quadrant Delta-5, the stellar core. Proximity to the neutron star places us within extreme radiation and gravitational turbulence. No Corsair ships pursued. I suspect they anticipated this possibility and prepared for it. But not this. No one follows a target into the fire."

"Current plan: maintain low-impulse orbit along the inner perimeter of the radiation belt. Trajectory will carry us behind the neutron star. We will remain in the shadow zone, off sensors. The goal is to emerge on the far side, beyond predicted enemy scan arcs, and initiate escape vector.

"Shielding at 89%. Radiation interference increasing. Life support stable but stressed.

"The mission has failed."
"The convoy is gone."
"But we are not."

END LOG

The words hung in the stale air, cast in pale amber light from the console.

Neer was the first to speak, voice quiet.
“They ran straight into the neutron star’s orbit. That’s not bravery, that’s clinical madness.”

“No,” Schmidt said, not taking his eyes off the log. “That’s the kind of madness that gets you out alive.”

Belck tapped a knuckle against a vent grille, his mind clearly elsewhere.
“It explains the localized erosion patterns. That isn’t battle scarring — it’s neutron flux exposure. Deck plating’s been molecularly flayed, stripped away atom by atom.”

“They escaped the ambush…” Neer murmured. “But into that?”

“No one would follow them there,” Schmidt said. “That’s the point. The Corsairs stopped because it wasn’t worth the risk.”

“Or because they didn’t need to,” Belck added. “If they assumed the Morgenstern wouldn't survive the belt... they’d just write them off.”

“A fake death,” Neer said, softly. “Make the hunters stop looking.”

“Classic,” Belck said, exhaling. “If you’re desperate enough to play dead inside a nuclear oven.”

They looked at the screen again. A new log pulsed in the archive, dated January 30th.

Schmidt spoke quietly, almost to himself.

“Let’s see how long they stayed dead.”

Mission Record No. 123

[Log Entry: January 30th, 710 A.S. | Unknown System – Inner Belt Shadow Arc]
Commanding Officer: Capt. Klaus von Tanner | E.V. Morgenstern
Classification: Emergency Operations Log

"Preliminary orbital segment completed. Morgenstern remains within the projected gravitational corridor of the neutron star. Sensor signature minimal. No sign of pursuit."

"Engineering has stabilized impulse flow at 53% of nominal impulse speed. Radiation buffering operating intermittently. Life support at 83%, but decaying."

"Medical officer has completed a full inventory. Stores of anti-radiation treatment sufficient for fifty days of continued exposure at current shielding output. Shield generators cannot be pushed beyond 43% before risking systemic failure. Core temperature fluctuating above baseline."

"Hull integrity forecasts indicate rising probability of microfractures after Day 18. By Day 21, estimated structural stress across four decks will exceed safe tolerances. Auxiliary conduits already showing signs of thermal fatigue."

"Any extension beyond this window will result in irreversible degradation of critical systems."

"We have twenty-one days to complete the estimated orbit and break from the belt."
END LOG

No one said anything for a long moment. The log’s final words flickered on the screen, like an echo trying to outlive itself.

Hans shifted his weight, the creak of his boots oddly loud in the silence.
“Twenty-one days,” he said softly. ““That’s not much margin for error.”

Neer sat down slowly on the edge of the console. He looked tired in a way that sleep wouldn’t fix.
“So just to recap… they stumbled into a trap that shouldn’t have existed, lost the entire convoy in under thirty minutes, and their master plan was to crawl behind a neutron star and hope the Corsairs got bored in less than 3 weeks?” He ran a hand down is face. “Brilliant.”

Schmidt didn’t respond immediately. He was staring at the terminal, at the scrolling numbers and red-flagged logs — like the ship itself was trying to explain, again and again, what had gone wrong.

Eventually, he said, “I don’t think they were trying to win anymore. I think they just wanted not to be caught dying.”

Belck gave a small nod, almost apologetic.
“I used to think these old exploration missions were romantic. Big leaps into the unknown, maps, stars, discoveries.”
He looked up. “Not so much when the stars shoot neutrons and hate for electronic hardware back.”

For a moment, none of them spoke. The Morgenstern groaned softly — metal expanding, or perhaps just remembering.

Schmidt stepped forward and tapped the console.
“Pull the next log,” he said. His voice wasn’t sharp.
“Let’s see what happens when the clock starts ticking”