*written in fine pen, in a blank portion of an aviators technical manual, this journal looks rather interesting.* 4/24/2417 Landed on a snowy planet - an icy, bitterly cold, wasteland, trying to evade some hostile fighters. Managed to get my craft into a cave. Very cold and tired. Luckily I can sleep in the cockpit. It's very well insulated. Had to eat a quarter of my chocolate bar ration to fight off hunger. Will write a more detailed entry tomorrow. Captain Karo Veyron.
4/25/2417 Had a horrible night of sleep. I just couldn't warm up or get comfortable. The day wasn't much better. I did source some dry waste from deeper in the cave, but I can't burn it while the Federation has patrols overhead. They'll either see the smoke, see the light, or detect the gas emissions from my little hidey hole. As far as food goes: I've got 3/4 of a calorie dense chocolate bar, an entrée with no heater, and a half bottle of hot sauce. I drank some for lunch. ...I figure I can make that stretch until my escape window opens up? I'll have to eat before I fly, so I'll try to conserve what I can till then. I have to plan my escape very cautiously. I cannot risk leading any enemy forces back to the fleet, thus giving away our position. ...I'd kill to be back with Skye. I miss her laugh, her eyes, everything. I miss my best friend. K. Veyron.
4/26/2417 I'll have my escape window in about an hour. There's a quick break in patrols while they refuel in flight, taking them slightly off course... The fighter should be ready to go. I'm gonna light a fire, eat and drink the last if what I have and get the hell off this snowy hell. I'm sick of this frigid cave. K. Veyron.
