Inktober 2026 17, Contraption

Captain’s log, Day 17

The engineer hasn’t slept. Neither have I.

A sealed bulkhead won’t hold that thing for long, so the engineer has been building. Gas tanks strapped to the back, a welding torch in one hand, and a cutting arm of rivets, pipe and jagged steel bolted to the other.

Half welder, half weapon. The engineer calls it a contraption. I call it the only plan we have.

Inktober 2026 16, Gangly

Captain’s log, Day 16

Movement in the corridor outside Medical. Gangly. Jerky. Too many joints, none of them bending the right way.

Then the noises: nothing a human throat should make. It was coming from the medical unit, and the unit was meant to be sealed.

I saw it clearly for three seconds. That was enough. Never unsee this. It will live in our nightmares forever.

Inktober 2026 15, Hooray

Captain’s log, Day 15

The rescue is complete. Against every odd, the crew is home, and for the first time in weeks the cargo hold rings with laughter.

Banners hang from the bulkhead. Glasses are raised. And somehow, impossibly, there are balloons. We are light years from anywhere, and I will never know where they found them.

For one perfect hour, nobody is afraid.

Then the alarm sounds…