The Cartographers Diary

by C. Mahood

  Captain Charles Todd

  Mar 8th

  What have I done? Was I an evil man in a previous life? Did I piss of a God or make love to a demon? I ask myself every bloody day what my luck is so poor. I must be the only Sky Captain to go on a routine Cartographic Mission, only to be fired upon by other ships that should NOT be in this region. If I had the fighting crew I used to have, that ship would be long gone from these here skies. Instead my Lieutenant has advised me to follow her. Bloody ponce. I Readied the guns any way, never wish it, but always be prepared, that's what I say. Among other nonsensical ramblings too!

  Lieutenant Stephen Hartley.

  March 9th

  We had soon followed them down to the surface of the planet. This was my favorite part. The Annabel gave us the feeling of slowly descending, much like that of an air balloon.

  The airport on Astrada was primitive. It was much the same as where we had landed on Atria. The landscape was covered in a lush jungle, with only a clearing for airships. Right now, there were only two in port: the alien’s ship, and the

  Annabel. Once we had neared our descent, Sam enabled the ship’s cloaking devices. Since it appeared that these other crewmen were not friendly, we decided to err on the side of caution.

  Ed and Sam were both Nervous as we only had about an hour’s cloaking remaining, until the crystals were cleaned and refined. That would take at least three hours, if Bill worked his fastest. Captain Todd wisely interjected that we just observe. He wanted Mr. Thomas to get started on a new cardiogram of this region. This spaceport was not on any map or journal. This entire region is unknown to Cogburn.

  George Thomas

  March 9th

  I can tell the impatience of the crew. They seem impatient for action, but unfortunately, exploration is often dull, tedious work. They reluctantly pull out their own diaries, and started recording the trip.

  My head lifted up from my new map as I saw some action happening through the window. There appeared to be a second unit of ragged crewmen, but these were different than the first type we had encountered.

  These can only be described as aliens. They were shorter, and had fur instead of skin, which fit in with the lush jungle surrounding us. If we weren’t enclosed in a metal basket, we may have heard of much of the jungle’s animal calls, and the movement of the wind against the leaves.

  Despite their smaller appearance, and fur covered bodies, they dressed very well. Most in gentlemanly clothes and beautiful frocks. Their stature was human like but there were definite differences. I am reluctant to record this as I fear I will be pronounced as mad on my return to Cogburn.

  They had the feline features. Now not just sharp faces and piercing eyes, well yes, they did have those too, but they were actually felines. The faces of cats. Long whiskers, pointed ears from underneath the top hats that they wore. The suits were perfectly pressed, clean, they obviously had managed a way to avoid shedding on themselves. How, I do not know. If I spend even a half an hour at my great aunt petunia's house, my trouser legs look like I have waded through a barber’s floor, not swept in weeks.

  Of course this is not all the oddities I had noticed. They all had tails. Yes, Honest to the gods, tails. The fur they all had was so varied in color and markings. No two looked alike, despite their height being almost identical between all those I could see.

  For some reason, they were being forced to go into the cargo hold of the men's ship, and carry out large boxes. I can only assume this is crates of Rumadium.

  I couldn’t help but think to myself, what was happening?

  I could see some settlements in the distance. We zoned in on them with the navigational system on board and to our surprise, they seemed to be made of Gold?

  Could the jungle be so inhospitable that they need to live in golden houses?

  That’s a curious observation, But, if they’re exchanging gold, what are the felines supplying to the, well, Pirates I suppose, in return?”

  I grabbed my binoculars, and walked up as close to the window as I could. In the distance I could see what appeared to be a female leader of the cat people. (A name Biggs gave them. She appeared to be arguing with one of the Pirates.

  Off to the side several Cat People were being herded. It appeared they were being rounded up.

  “It’s bad news, crew,” Captain Todd notified us. “I think the exchange is for lives”

  Lieutenant Steven Hartley

  March 11th

  I don’t recall seeing any Cat people on Atria, but these Pirates must come from somewhere. Is it possible we missed a settlement or base on our journey here.

  There’s at least ten thousand dimensions within five billion light years from here. It’s possible. We just don’t have the technology or ability to charter every one.

  After pondering for a moment, the captain and I came up with a plan, and shared it with my crew. We set to work.

  We almost left the exchange to the last minute. The Cat people had been rounded up. The gold had been taken off the Pirate's ship and was piled to the side of the port. The Cat leader was off to the side. Obviously, she wouldn’t be joining them, she’d be staying on the planet.

  “Now!” I cried.

  An electric Tesla ball was fired by the duel cannons from the weapon’s port of our ship. It struck one of the Pirates directly in the abdomen, a nice shot. Several others were thrown back from the impact. They all fell to the ground.

  Mr. Thomas exclaimed with fright, the pansy. The Cat people panicked, running in every which direction. “Again!” I cried. The next pirate went down. Some of the other crewmen were helping the first downed man to stand back up again. They then went to help the others. Fortunately, while these men had some advanced technology, their reasoning erred on the side of caution. We caught them of guard, or “with their pants down” as captain Todd bellowed from the bridge. The shock of cannon fire, coming from an invisible ship gave them the fright we needed. They collected their things and rushed back into their airship, leaving the gold and the Herd of Cat people behind.

  Soon, the ship was up and away. We let her go. Our crew is not a combat crew. Both Captain Todd and I were part of a shock troop fleet during the war, but we have both become wise enough to know, avoiding combat at all costs is the most important tactic.

  We uncloaked and tied down. On exiting the Anabelle, we took only melee weapons with us, concealed, just in the unlikely case the cat people were unfriendly. To our surprise however, once we cut the bonds we were greeted with tearful cries. We were embraced and welcomed with a language we did not understand but two we also did. The common language is Cogburnian. The odd thing however is that it is spoken in all known territories to the government. This world is uncharted. How could the language have made its way here?

  Another very Odd thing was that when embraced by both the male and female cat people, we heard them purr. The oddest sensation. The urge to stroke their heads was overwhelming, but I restrained out of pure manners.

  Ronald “Biggs” Haley

  March 11th

  I don't do much writing down. Don't really like it. But Mr. Thomas said I has to. He is a prat, but captain said I had to listen to him. Not forgiven him for wreckin my clothes with his wee letter opener tooth pick!

  It has been very weird over past few days. Lots of strange things I has seen.

  Best of all was cat people. They are funny. I stroked one. He bit me, I punched him, he kicked me down. We both laughed. He is me friend now. They are happy now after wat happened to dat queen cat they all hated.

  George Thomas

  March 12th

  The strangest of events has unfolded recently. I write this with a heavy hand and a heavy heart. I hate violence. It is a last resort. The wisest and honorable Captain Todd handled a recent altercation with some slave trading pirate very well of late. Warning shots were carried out and the situation was resolved with minimal casualties. The innocent parties were that of a race of felines. Since conversing with
them in the common language of Cogburnian I have discovered that they are called the Felines. They were previously untouched until many years ago. A ship arrived carrying humans. They traded for years until the gold ran dry and they had become accustomed to the goods and technology man had brought. They needed the goods form the men but had not enough to offer. Until recently they provided services of many variations until even that was not enough. Their Queen had created an agreement that the remaining cost would be covered by the purchase of slaves. This was a most unpopular decision, as you can imagine, but the opponents to her decree were mysteriously gone. Once the slaves had been liberated by the fine shooting of Captain Todd's crew, and the captured, soon-to-be slaves released, a skirmish ensued. Many of the freed Felines and the family of them attacked the Queens chariot. Overturning it, killing her guards and calling for her blood. Lieutenant Hartley intervened and took her as a prisoner of war. We were to hold a trial for her but the most unexpected thing happened. Young Danny Racket made his way to the front of the crowd, raised his pistol and shot the queen square in the head. Her body fell before the sound of the gunshot had faded. There was stunned silence for a short time before the crowd began to cheer. Lieutenant Hartley snatched the weapon from the boy and ordered him to return to The Annabel, there Biggs had to lock him in a make shift holding sell on the lower deck until Captain Todd could find a suitable punishment.

  I however, along with Lieutenant Hartley, were escorted to the centre of the nearest village. The most beautiful architecture was standing out from the tall tree line. All buildings coated in Gold and shining bright from the two suns that shone on this world. The air was dense and rather humid but the heat was not unbearable. We discussed the history of the people and gave them details of the land coordinates to the inter-dimensional boarder. There, they could visit, register and establish trade routes with Cogburn firstly then outward. The land is so beautiful that an inevitable industrial revolution here would be a danger to the scenery. I suggested the research into green energy. Using the wind, the water and the resources they had on their doorstep, breaking from the use of old fuels such as coal and oil. This idea was most pleasing to them.

  We discussed history and mechanics deep into the evening, until the conversation inevitably turned to that of Danny Rocket and the murder of the queen. The mood of this particular topic was different from what I had expected. It seemed in the eyes of the Felines, young Danny was a hero. He had put the end to her reign in the manner she ave we had a bloody murder on board the whole time? Well aside from the rest of the crew. Aye, that's not really a fair comment, we all have blood on our hands from the wars. We will see how this plays out soon enough. Tonight I have been invited into the town by the eldest and newly elected Felines officials. Hope it isn’t tuna and cried cereal we are eating!

  George Thomas

  March 13th

  The entire village had gathered, tables, chairs and a whole manner of food were brought into the streets. We all ate together and laughed, told stories and danced to the oddest music my ears had heard. The Felines are not the most gifted singers. In fact, the sound is rather reminiscent of the noises heard late in the evening, in the alley ways behind restaurants in Cogburn city centre. None the less, we enjoyed our food and agreed to leave some spare tech, Bill reluctantly gave over some of his gadgets. Just simple things for finding water, ore and turning minerals into elements and then to solids and fuels. Great and interesting things. I however was more fascinated with the tour of the city. I walked with Kaiju. She, well I think she was female? Who can really tell? Anyway, she described the brief history of the building of the town. From a nomadic race they came across volcanic streams just north of a great gold mine. The smelting process was soon followed and since the value of gold was not really realised here, they used it for construction. They say they were visited by a flying creature. One that looked quite like human. He, or she, gave them the tools needed for further construction and farming. Sustaining a growing settlement on purely hunting for one’s self was not a feasible way to live. They were taught how to make fire, clothing, how to fish with tools and how to farm. The being left them and promised a return. No such thing has happened since apparently. Kaiju told me that is why they fell for the tricks of the Pirates. They saw the likeness of them to the flying being scribed on the walls and began to trade and listen to these men. Men after nothing but their own gain.

  I was intrigued by the story of the flying being and the inscribing on the wall. I informed them of the mission we were on, and how I was charged with mapping the lands. She brought me far west of the town to a large cave. There we found drawings of a man with wings. Beside it however was yet another shocking discovery. An Enocian symbol. I have hope to translate this also, on my return to the Library on the I.D.B.

  We returned to the feast then once I had taken my drawings. Here I rest in the dwelling of Kaiju. A most beautiful Felines.

  Lieutenant Hartley.

  March 12th

  He was gone this morning. We arrived at first light to the ship. We found gunpowder burns on the side of the ship, a large hole had been shot through. We must have missed it past the sound of the party. We stormed in, armed with our simple melee weapons. We arrived to a most unpleasant sight. The cage that was holding young Master Rocket was broken open. The lock had been shot open. There was no blood in the cage, so we know that he has been taken. Unfortunately, we suffered a casualty. Biggs, who was font of young Danny had remained behind to guard and feed the boy. We found Biggs' body into the hallway, he was face down. Facing towards the stairs. He must have been running to the armoury when they broke through. His injuries are piercing intrusions. We found the armoury empty also. The captain is furious beyond belief. Screaming and storming around his cabin. Indistinct yells, growls and smashing objects rumble around the Annabel. We were ordered to take flight as soon as we returned. The hull was repaired. Luckily the cannons were untouched as they have been built into the floorboards. (This avoids rolling during combat.)

  We are in pursuit of the pirates now. We cannot simply blast them from the sky, as they have Danny on board. They know this. He may have acted wrong, but he still is part of our crew.

  We have not said much to each other. Every man is doing his job. We aim to have a funeral for Biggs when the correct opportunity presents itself.

  Captain Todd

  March 27th

  It has been much time since anything was recorded. Mr Thomas introduced an idea to the crew to help with the grieving. He advised that “routine is healthy and important when trying to make sense of things you cannot comprehend” I believe routine is important in all parts of life, but sure, who am I? Only a bloody captain. The younger men and the sooties are having a tougher time of Biggs' death and Danny's capture. In the line of service, in times of war, it is commonplace on a crew the size of this, none the less I have turned Mr Thomas' ingestion to an order. All crew members are to keep a diary. Filled in several times a week. Weather and situation permitting, obviously. This is the case in point. It has been over a week. We have been searching for young Danny for several days, trying to keep pursuit of the Pirates but we lost them. Yesterday we returned to the I.D.B. Mr Thomas is reporting back to headquarters with his findings as we speak. I have sent Hartley out for more supplies, to arrange repairs and recruit two new crew for our next expedition. I can write this now from the comfort of my cabin. Giving up and returning to the I.D.B was one of those decisions every captain has to make. It is difficult, heart-breaking and a little piece of your humanity dries up then peels off, like dead skin from a scab. Just like a wound, once the scab is removed, the skin is harder underneath, less forgiving and ugly. You have to just get on with the mission at hand however. That is what I keep telling the crew, and myself. We lost the ship we were tailing after a solid 30 hours’ pursuit. They had damages but the repairs they had made, even while we were in pursuit were extraordinary. All of us were committed to catching these bandit, slave driving c
riminals. All except Mr Thomas. He was, and still is, fixated on the fact all the slaves were wearing grey. They all spoke of some winged man that they knew and cared little about. The one Danny shot I believe was a winged man believer or something or other. I was not there to witness it so I cannot comment on the events that I had no part in.

  Mr Thomas wasted little time as soon as we docked. He had drawn some basic outlines of the city and the alterations of the peninsula. I still see no need for a cartographer to be drawing coastlines and mountain ranges of the land from above. The travelling we are doing is from dimension to dimension. The same worlds. The land is almost always the same, yes some slight differences, height of mountains, amount of pollution, forest sizes, river speeds and directions etc. From what I have seen however, generally the same. Listen not to the ramblings of an old captain throwing in his penny's worth on cartography and geographical significance. I will keep Annabel in the sky if she needs be, on the waves is she has to and even, if Mr Ironforn newest modification is cleared, under the surface of the waves. I am a Captain and I will keep everyone safe, as best I can.

  George Thomas

  March 29th

  I made my way to the IDLSSW head offices after our dock at the I.D.B. Captain Todd said not to raise alarm of young Danny but to simply report my findings as usual. The meeting once more was nothing out of the ordinary. I presented my drawings, explained the layout of Astraddle, then tried to ply some more information out of Sir Bleakly regarding the Grey men, with as much guile as I could muster. I told him that I heard stories of traders, dealing in people, and slavery. His left eyebrow raised, I am sure it was yet another of his poker tells. He was interested I knew it. I had to elaborate my story, I told him that we observed people in grey being sold onto a ship. His response surprised me. He slammed his fast down with a “DAMN” He muttered to himself then shouted to his assistant to contact Mr Marlin and the “committee” because, in his words “The deserters are at it again!” I tried to reassure him by tell him that I heard the trader was shot and the men on the other ship had got away but in a hurry. He calmed a little and asked of who shot. I did not reply; I am quite sure that he knows I am lying now. I could see the distrust in his eyes. He lay me new set of coordinates and sent me on my way.