Mission QTXZ19413

Mission Log: Period of Seth the 73rd, 2629

Translated from Birdish to English April 17, 2022

The planet Ears- known to its inhabitants as Earth- has revolved around its star over nineteen hundred times since its dominant species began their count. In that time they have advanced slower than any other race we have encountered. Major innovations have emerged short of expectation for reasons unknown to the office of alien affairs. Spacebird society had developed significantly more complex technology at this point in our existence. My mission is to figure out what is holding them back and try to put a stop to it, ensuring a smooth transition to future intergalactic relations. This new creation by the Earlings seems to surpass anything that they have been able to conjure up so far. Perhaps this is a step in the right direction. The following is my account of Mission QTXZ19413- Progress Study of the RMS Titanic.

Period of Seth the 73rd, 2629- 63:50 (Ears day April the 10th, 1912- 15:00):

My arrival on the surface of Ears went just like any other mission. I made my way into the oversized bridge of the SS Cliffhanger as it orbits the blue planet. Palada handed me the tools I needed for the mission. In this case, it was a ticket, a key, and my cloaked camera. This camera has been cloaked as so many different objects by now that it is quite possibly reaching its useful life. It has a certain intrinsic value to me though, so I plan on keeping it for as long as I can. I tapped the two buttons on opposite sides of my cloaking watch and looked into the mirror as my feathers slowly vanished, replaced with uncovered skin of light beige. This avatar is different than the last few. It is youthful like usual, but with yellow hair just covering the top of its head and falling down over its oversized earling ears. The gorgeous red and grey that shrouded my body was completely gone, overtaken by beige and only a speck of red at the mouth.

Palada awaited the full transformation from behind the booth, and when I gave the signal she beamed me down. I closed my eyes. The insides of my eyelids went from black to white and back to black. When I opened them back up I was looking at a dragon of a human waste receptacle in between two tall exterior walls. It contained some solid food, paper, plastics, and a number of split wooden slats that someone clearly worked very hard to fit in there.

The shipyard was not a long walk from the waste receptacle. The way there was filled with quite a few more. Earlings seem to have developed an affinity for garbage. The trend looks to have picked up since my last visit. With all of these missions attempting to reverse the destruction of earling society by their own hands, we may as well rename ourselves the department of earling affairs. The Corsauls have not caused nearly as much strife, and they have been known to us almost four times longer.

I approached the ship from the bow. It is a very nice ship. Small, but gargantuan compared to anything else I have seen from the earlings. It is a rather plain ship, with wooden decks and four massive exhaust ducts sticking out supported by ropes in tension. Honestly, it looks like a good start towards effective mass transport. Not great, but good.

The line at the gangway was not long. I quickly came to an earling wearing formal attire and a starshield on his head with the logo of the ship in front. I showed him the ticket that Palada created for me. The forgery worked as intended- thank you once again Palada- and I was free to roam the ship. I reached the living room that Palada ensured me had gone unclaimed among the earlings and inserted my key, twisting through the archaic mechanism that I had run into countless times over the years. The room was not much. There were what I have to assume are sleeping beds- two stacked on top of each other on each side, and a fountain. It would be enough for my purposes.

There were two major aspects to my mission. I need to study the propulsion system, ensuring the ship is meeting its speed and steadiness expectations, and I need to make sure she makes her way across the world safely. Fairly rudimentary tasks. I was in the process of taking a seat on one of the sleeping beds as the foghorn sounded. We had taken off, and I had an opportunity to go check on these engines while they were running. I had to get down there quickly so that I could observe as they accelerated.

The lower decks were not overly populated as I made my way to the engine room. All of the passengers seemed to be on the upper deck saying goodbye to the dock- a bizarre but endearing earling custom. I slipped into a bathroom stall in the corridor and once again tapped the two buttons on my watch. When I exited the stall and looked in the mirror, I saw a version of my blonde avatar aged a year- or on Ears about ten years. My formal collar was visible as well as the starshield donning the familiar crest of Titanic.

I stepped through the door to the engine room with a tip of my brim- a delightful signal that earlings give to each other to acknowledge the existence of a fellow earling, or in some circumstances a dog. The engine room of Titanic is a feat of earling engineering unto itself. The room takes up as much space as a class three nutrition hub. The boilers seem to go on forever, feeding the two massive engines that never seize operation. It is not easy to imagine that this is ever what it took to operate a machine like this. I scanned the entire room and took readings of maiden acceleration. Details and photographs are located in the appendix.

Period of Seth the 73rd, 2629- 90:25 (Ears day April the 10th, 1912- 21:00):

I had finished my nightly radar readings from the bow and just concluded taking a standard evening barometric and anemometric readings from the stern. The radar findings came up absolutely null. The waters were open for at least hundreds of kilometers. Based off the data I collected, the ship is capable of going about twenty percent faster than its current trajectory. I tried several spots along the stern but consistently ran into similar data. I am beginning to fear that these engines are not nearly as efficient as I presumed.

I was in the middle of my final measurement for the night when something strange happened. A blast of wind struck me, rippling this artificial hair before it fell back onto my eyes. I shook my head as I learned to do when I last disguised myself as an earling female- who regularly keep their hair at least this length. I leaned up and glanced back to find an earling woman wearing a long, red, shiny, silk dress. She wore foot covers that were spiked at the heel as earling women often do to make themselves appear taller- even though on this planet it is undesirable to the males for their mates to appear taller than them.

She ran at speeds I never imagined anyone with spiked foot covers could run at and slowed when she reached the edge of the deck. I observed what I thought would be her leaning over the edge and watching the water, maybe collecting a brief moment of solace.

Seconds passed and I kept my eye on her, head still leaning over the water. Something seemed off. Her red hair was blowing in the wind, head down towards the rear propellor. She lifted her left leg and clasped her foot cover over the guard rail. I assumed she was trying to get a better look. She then lifted her right leg and climbed over the rail. My heart dropped. The code of alien affairs rang through my mind. I did not want to startle her. I approached slowly.

“Hey,” I said. “How’s your night going?” This is what an earling does when attempting to expend politeness. The thought of contracting words still makes me cringe every time, but I always try to hide my disgust. I feel as though I have gotten quite good at it.

“What?” She spun her neck around as far as an earling is capable and glanced with the side of her eye at me removing my foot covers. She was confused. The terror in her voice showed me how scared she was of what she was doing, and how desperate she was to get some help, even though she may not have known it at the time. “What are you doing?”

“Well,” I said. “If I’m reading this right and you’re planning what I think you are, then my only option would be to jump in after you.”

“Don’t be silly,” her voice had quieted, still letting past hints of terror, rising to incredible volumes every few syllables. “You wouldn’t do that for some stranger on a boat.”

I was a bit offended that she called this feat of earling enginuity something so crass as a ‘boat’, but she had a valid point. “Yeah, you got me there. My name’s Jack.”

“Stand back Jack.”

“I am afraid I can’t do that. I’m involved now. You go in and I’m in right after you.” The code of alien affairs is very specific on this point. If I know an earling life is in danger, and doing so will not expose our kind, it is my duty to save that life.

“You’re insane,” she said while I took off my other foot cover. She did not notice this one. In fact, she had not looked back at me since my first cover came off. “You’d be killed.”

“Don’t worry. I’m a good swimmer.” They make sure all scouts can swim in earling waters during academy training. Spacebirds are able to withstand waters of significantly lower temperatures than these.

“The fall alone would kill you,” that is when she looked over at me again. I think she wanted to know how accurate that statement actually was.

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong. It would hurt for sure, but what I’m more worried about is how cold that water is.” Obviously, I was not worried about this in the slightest. This is a tactic I learned about in negotiation training. Fear is a strong cause for dissent, and everyone fears pain.

She looked down at the water, then as if to signal that this next question was just a formality, she blinked and rolled her eyes. “How cold?”

“Freezing,” I said abruptly. I wanted to find a way to relate this to her. She looked like an upper class earling. I tried quickly to recall things that resonate with them. “Have you ever been ice fishing?”

“What?” I expected this was a stupid question. In the islands to the north of Eebila we would often cut holes in the ice and time the path of a fish so that we could catch them in our feet. Most earlings did not possess the talons required for it, so she had likely never done it.

“Ice fishing is where you-”

“I know what ice fishing is!” She exclaimed. I was shocked to hear this but it was helpful to know so I could continue my metaphor.

“Oh, ok good. I guess you seemed like more of an indoor girl. Well, one day when I was ice fishing back home, I fell through some thin ice.” This was actually true, and if you know about the Portal Islands you know how cold that water can get. “It feels like a thousand knives stabbing you all at once, and it isn’t quick. The pain lasts. You can’t think and you can’t breathe while your body tries to figure out what’s happening and eventually shuts down.” She was splitting her gaze between the dark water and me. “And that’s why I’m really not looking forward to jumping in there after you, but like I said, I don’t have a choice. I guess I’m just really hoping you’ll step off that rail and get me off the hook on this one.”

“You’re crazy,” that response was immediate. I think she was ready to come down. She was trying to streamline the conversation to the point where she returned to safety.

“That’s what everyone says, but with all due respect miss, I’m not the one hanging off the back of a ship here.” She giggled the smallest little giggle I have ever heard, likely muted by the cold hitting her vocal cords. “Come on,” I put my hand out and wrapped it around her wrist. Her earling skin was cold but soft to the touch. She jerked her head to see my hand on her, but didn’t move anything else. She again looked back, only able to catch a glance of the side of my face with her peripheral vision. She moved her arm slowly, sliding it through my grip, and grasping my hand in hers. When our hands touched, we both looked down at them. I had never felt something like it before. Our hands seemed to fit perfectly together as if one was made for the other. I know it is impossible, and that hands are not made. Well, technically this one was made, but they certainly are not made for each other.

She did not make a sound. She lifted her left foot and started to flip around to face me, listening to me for direction on how to do it safely. Suddenly she was there in front of me, her eyes looking into mine. Her red hair fluttered in the wind over her deep blue eyes. Her mouth lay barely agape, surrounded by full, pink lips.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get you back to the good side.” She smiled. I gently pulled on her hand while she began to climb the rail.

That is when she dropped. I caught her with the grip I still had with my hand and held her as she dangled over the water. She screamed for me to help her. I told her to calm down, that I had her and would not let her go. She seemed to calm down, allowing me to pull her up higher. I lifted, trying not to show my true strength. She was able to get her foot back onto the railing. She extended her leg and pushed off so her waist was above the top of the rail. I wrapped my arms around her, filling my face with soft red hair, and leaned back. She came down with all her weight on me as we rolled over to soften the impact.

I was now on top of this earling woman, our eyes locked. I could not help but look into those deep blue eyes. There is something entrancing about them, like a view from ramparts point in the Ranch Mountains or that grand canyon I visited back in the period of Poseidon. When she blinked, her long bristles danced with each other, overlapping neatly before unveiling those striking eyes again.

“Rose,” I had not expected her to say anything. Rose. A very common flower here on Ears, used often as a literary element meant to describe something beautiful that could hurt you if you get too close.

“Pardon?” I said, still no more than a head length apart.

“My name, Jack. My name is Rose.”

“Nice to meet you Rose, though I wish it had been through better circumstances.” I reached my hand out.

“I disagree,” she said softly. “I think this was the best possible way we could have met. Now we have a chance to meet again tomorrow.” She shook my hand.

That is when I heard footsteps rushing towards us. I leaned up, knees on the deck so that I could gauge the upcoming threat. Three officers came running over and accused me of attacking the lady. I quickly realized it was a fair assumption based on the fact that she was screaming for help and I was on top of her with no foot covers on. I was stuck there answering questions for a while, but Rose explained to them a counterfeited version of the event. I was given twenty British pounds and an invitation to dinner the next night. I was excited to hear it. It would give me an opportunity to learn more about these upper-class earlings.

Period of Seth the 74th, 2629- 72:25 (Ears day April the 11th, 1912- 3:30):

I will never get used to the limited hours that earlings sleep. I woke up at 45:25- around 11:30 earling time. I performed my engine measurement ritual and grabbed my camera to take in some earling communications. Day two measurements can be found in the appendix. Sufficed to say, they again came up short of expectations, but once again the radar caught only water for its entire range. I took a photograph of a woman teaching a man how to tap dance. He did not have the natural talent that a person needs to excel at something athletic like tap dancing.

“An artist too, huh? You’re a man of many talents, Jack.” Rose had appeared out of nowhere, eyeing the photo that had appeared on my camera. She looked intently at it, impressed by what she assumed was my artistic talent. I was not allowed to tell her that it was actually just a cloaked piece of spacebird technology unless her life was in danger and knowing that information would save her. She had placed her right hand around my upper bicep and her left on my shoulder. She leaned her chin on her own left hand. Our cheeks made contact at first before she pulled back. It was just as soft as expected. I imagined her whole featherless body was just as smooth as what I had felt so far.

“Hey Rose,” I said, still eyeing the tapdancing couple. “What brings you around here?”

“I would like to talk to you. Care to take a walk?”

I said yes. We walked around the deck a few times, talking about the ship, the weather, my hair, and the great city of Southhampton- to which I had to go off her cues a bit because I do not really know much about the city just being there once. It was not long until she brought out the real reason that she came to speak with me.

“Jack, I wanted to thank you for what you did last night. Not only for saving me, but for your discretion.” I did not think that it would have been productive to share that knowledge with those who did not witness it. The key is that she did not end up in the water last night, and I did not think she was in danger to attempt it again.

“Of course, Rose.” She kept going.

“I know what you’re probably thinking. Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?”

“No,” I said as I stopped walking. I looked into her eyes and leaned back on the railing. “That’s not at all what I was thinking. I’ve been around. Everyone no matter how rich or poor has problems in their lives. No, all I was thinking was what could have happened to this poor girl to make her think there was no way out.”

She went on to describe her situation. She was engaged to a man she did not love. Her parents wanted to merge the families and create the greatest dynasty of rich jerks the world has ever seen. This is moderately common among the earlings. They marry in their class, often having it arranged by their parents. And I asked a question that I was sure applied very well to the situation, but she was not amused.

“Do you love him?”

Her eyes opened wide and her mouth immediately followed. It was as if I just asked her weight- I learned the hard way to never ask an earling woman her weight. Oddly enough, earling men never mind the question. In fact they are usually happy to answer.

“You’re being very rude,” she seemed baffled by the question. “That is not a proper thing to ask.”

“Proper schmoper.” I learned a long time ago that if you said something in this pattern to any earling they will answer the next question you ask. I have done the same with ‘boring schmoring’, ‘mean schmean’, and even ‘rambunctious schmanbunctious’. “It’s a simple question. Do you love the guy or not?”

She seemed even more offended than before, though I do not think that she was. She laughed throughout her next response. “This is not a suitable conversation, especially among two people who have just met.”

“I don’t see why you can’t just answer the question.” I honestly did not understand. He was her fiance. It should have been a simple question.

Again, she laughed. It was just a few short giggles, and I could not help but smile. “This is absurd,” she kept smiling. “I don’t know you, you don’t know me, and we should not be having this conversation at all.” It was very cute seeing her talk like this when it was so clear that she did not mean any of it. “You are rude and uncouth and vermouth, and presumptuous and I’m leaving now.” I was fairly confident that vermouth was a fermented grape beverage, but did not want to tell her that. She reached out to shake my hand. “I came here to thank you and thank you is what I have done. It has been a pleasure Jack.”

She kept her hand on mine, shaking and shaking. I did not have any intention of letting go, and her smile made it seem like she was happy to keep it going. However, she did say that she was leaving, and I am not one to let a person go back on her word.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“I am,” she let go and started to walk away. After she made it a few steps, she turned back around and still smiling told me, “you are so annoying”. Suffice to say she did not leave. She stayed around and we looked through my camera together. She went back to her earlier position- one hand on my arm and one on my shoulder acting as a chin rest. We looked through the camera roll for a little while. We looked at all the photos that I took in Paris last time I was here. Wow was Paris a fun time.

She was very excited about my artistic talents the entire time. It was difficult to avoid telling the full truth, but I managed quite well. We looked through it for a bit, laughed together, and all of the sudden it was time to prepare for dinner.

“Well,” her smile had dissipated. “It’s been a pleasure, Jack.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Rose.”

“I suppose I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Will you save me a seat next to you?” I asked.

She smiled again. “Hmm, I don’t know. I think you’ll have a better view from across the table. I know how you like drawing the ladies with the pretty hands,” she said as she reached her hand out towards me, palm side down arched over so that her fingers aimed at the deck.

I lightly placed her fingers on mine and leaned in to kiss the back of her hand- one of the few things that we have in common with Ears. “It’s all about perspective. Wherever I see you from, I’ll be happy to see you.”

I stopped by the stern on my way back to check the measurements one more time before dinner. Again, we were not traveling at the speed the engines were capable of reaching. I was going to have to find a way to fix that in the next few days.

Period of Seth the 74th, 2629- 95:75 (Ears day April the 11th, 1912- 11:30):

Palada loaded quite the nice formal attire into my cloaking mechanism. I tapped my watch and was ready to go off for dinner.

When I reached the dining room, I was confident that I would fit in well. Each and every man wore the exact same outfit as me, but I did not feel like I fit in. I had been around formal, high-class earlings in the past, but this seemed to be a whole different level. They had also picked up this new habit of placing their left arm behind their back. I tried to follow their lead. It is not a comfortable position, made even less comfortable by all these earlings that I did not know how to talk to.

I was at the bottom of the staircase when I noticed Rose emerge as if from the entryway. She wore a black dress with shining sequins and walked with confidence down towards me. I lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. It was covered in a glove this time.

“Welcome to hell, Jack,” she said. If you want to know what that is I will explain it separately. It is an absurd concept that they created hundreds of years ago.

“Just keep close and I think I can fare the flames,” I said. “Shall we?”

I put my elbow out for her to hold onto as we made our way into the dining room. She showed me all of the richest passengers, a few friends of hers, and her mother. After what I think they would call a cocktail hour- which was compressed into about thirty earling minutes- we were seated.

I ended up across the table from Rose and her family. The latter of whom asked question after question about my supposed earling life that I had to improvise answers to. They asked me how I came about a ticket to Titanic, to which I fabricated a story about a lucky poker game in a british tavern. They asked about my lifestyle and I semi invented a sort of nomadic way of life which was actually based slightly on my actual life. They ate it all up. Rose especially seemed to like the bit about the lucky hand in poker.

What interested me the most about that dinner was who sat next to me. Thomas Andrews, the architect of Titanic. I waited quite a bit of time for someone to bring up the creation of the ship we were sitting inside. It was Rose’s mother who brought the conversation to Mr. Andrews.

“So Mr. Andrews,” said Mrs. Dewitt Bukater. “I, along with everyone else at this table I imagine, are monumentally impressed with what you’ve built here.”

“Thank you, Ruth. That is very kind. I’m sure if the ship could, she would thank you.”

“I didn’t think a ship of such a size was even capable of traveling this quickly,” I said.

“Do you want to hear something” Mr. Andrews leaned into the table. Each and every person seated at the table nodded eagerly. “She can go even faster.” This was proving to be even easier than I thought. My mission was falling into my lap because of Rose.

“Poppycock,” said Rose’s fiance. I believe his name is Catelyn. I will admit I did not pay much attention to him. He is not an interesting man. “No ship can travel at such breakneck speeds,” he said as if he knew the slightest thing about maritime machinery.

“Oh, it’s true, and I can prove it.” My body started to tingle. I was completing this mission completely by accident, which is my favorite way to complete missions. “Watch from the upper deck tomorrow at noon. You’ll notice a difference.”

Period of Seth the 77th, 2629- 78:50 (Ears day April the 14th, 1912- 10:30):

Apologies for the delay in updates. I have been rather busy over the last few days and have not had time to document what I went through. I will try to compress it as much as I can while still conveying exactly what happened.

I went to the deck at noon the next day and of course, the ship had accelerated to its full potential. Every test I did came up with great numbers. I stayed up there for hours in order to make sure the ship was capable of maintaining this speed for an extended period of time. My last step was to head down to the engine room to make sure they were loading the boilers to full capacity. I had taken my last measurement towards the bow of the ship when who comes up to me but Rose.

“Hello Jack,” she said as she walked up to me. “Jack, I-”

I interrupted her with a shush. “Here, take my hand.” I was still on a high from all my measurements coming up perfect and wanted to share them with her. She was happy to take my hand. Again, it fit in mine like it was meant to be there. I told her to close her eyes. She did. I walked her up to the railing and asked her to step up. I guided her up. Wherever I moved my hand, hers followed.

I led her to stand up on the railing, her feet on the lower bar and her hands on the upper. I asked her if she trusted me, and to that, she responded immediately, “I trust you”. I grabbed her wrists and lifted until her arms were perpendicular to the rest of her body.

“All right,” I whispered in her ear. I wrapped my hands around her waist. “Open your eyes.”

I could just tell that her eyes opened. The speed of the ship completely left my mind. I was suddenly completely focused on her. Nothing else at that moment mattered. I wanted Rose to be happy. I wanted to feel close to her. Fragrant crimson locks paraded their way toward me, dancing in the wind.

“I’m flying,” she said. “Jack, I’m flying.” I wrapped my arms tighter around her, then reached up and took both her hands in mine. She was so happy. I caressed her perfect hands in mine. We already knew they fit so well together. Now we were just making friction, using our bodies to show each other how we were feeling in the moment.

She gripped both my hands and pulled them down to her hips. She fit in my arms like a glove. It was as if she was always meant to be there. Like I was born with a Rose sized gap that she finally filled. My cheek and lips were tucked against her ear. She leaned in and kissed me. It was the warmest, coolest, greatest experience. I had kissed earling women before, but none like her. None as beautiful or as incredible as her.

We went back to her room. Everyone else was off doing some activity that the ship had to offer. I had no intention of doing anything else. I did not know how much time I would be able to spend with her. I hoped that this mission would drag out a lot longer than it did.

When we got to her room, she came out wearing a robe, and only a robe. “Jack,” she said so that I could barely even hear as she ran her fingers through my hair. “I want you to paint me like one of your french girls.” She took a step back and untied her robe. Her body was perfect. She had the slim figure of a more fit spacebird woman. Her skin was flawless, untouched by even the slightest blemish. I found myself scanning slowly from top to bottom. I first looked to her eyes, as if to get permission to see the rest of her. She did not nod and did not even move, but I knew that I could proceed. Her breasts were perfect, molded to her figure. You could not have fabricated a more perfect body. The curves of her lower back ran so discretely to her hips. I could not have expected anything more beautiful than this earling woman laying exposed in front of me.

The only issue is that what I had in front of me was not a book of paintings. It was in fact a camera. So I sat there, camera aimed at her, for almost an hour of Ears time. I pretended to doodle with a pencil and every so often I would glance up at her. It was no problem for me. I can never tire of her company. I would have kept it up for days if she asked.

When I finished, I called her over to me. She picked up her robe from the floor and leaned over me once again to look at her “drawing”.

“Oh Jack, it’s perfect.” She kissed me. It only lasted a second or two, but it was lovely. I can remember every time she kissed me.

It was not long until one of the members of her group- Mr. Lovejoy, came into the room and tried to disrupt our good time. Rose led me out the back door, then I took over and led her to the lower decks. I had to get one more look at that engine room to make sure those boilers were working at full capacity.

I led her through the engine room with no disguise at all. They do not actually have very good security down there, so we did not have any issues. I covertly tapped the button on my watch that scanned a few of the boilers and they were both running at 100%. That is all I needed to see. As far as I knew at that point, this mission had been a success. She had not even noticed that I was working during our escapade. In fact, she seemed to enjoy herself in the engine room. As an added bonus, our trip through the boilers allowed us to evade Mr. Lovejoy.

Rose and I made our way to the cargo hold adjacent to the engine room and got into an extremely archaic automobile. I believe they just discovered a process powerful enough to run a machine like this only a few years ago.

Rose went up into the back seat first. She then grabbed my hand and pulled as hard as she could until I was sitting next to her. She looked into my eyes, breathing deeply. It felt like we were not two different people in that moment. We were breathing the same air, and thinking the same thoughts. Her eyes were just in front of mine, shining and blue, unblinking. She placed her hand on my cheek. My heart started to sprint, but I kept my stoic demeanor. I looked back into her eyes. I did not want to startle her. I did not want to do anything that would make her uncomfortable. I do not even think I was capable of doing anything that would make her unhappy. You can imagine what I was thinking about at the moment, but what I cared about above all else was Rose’s happiness.

“Put your hands on me, Jack.” I obliged. I would have done anything she asked. If she wanted me to pull the moon to the water, I would have tried to operate the tractor beam on the Cliffhanger and pulled it down myself.

Her breast was covered by her dress. I cascaded my hand from her cheek down her side. My fingertips barely pushed past the silk and lightly massaged her skin. I made my way down to her hip, never breaking our eye contact. I made my way back up and softly cupped her breasts in my hand. It was firm but supple, just like a spacebird breast. I squeezed my hand. She moaned. I leaned down and kissed her.

We made love in the back of that car. I have been with earling women in the past. None like Rose. No one who made me tremble like her, no one who it was this easy to be around. I do not know how long we were in that car. It could have been a minute, it could have been a day. However long it was, it was the best period of time of my life.

We sat there, glistening with sweat, shaking in each other's arms. I found my body struggling to move or even get a word out. I was locked in place, restrained in the most comfortable possible way. I had no urge to resist. In fact, it was exactly the opposite.

“Jack,” she did not look into my eyes. We both lay there with our heads towards the ceiling. She had gathered enough strength to pet my artificial golden locks. “Jack, when the ship docks, I’m getting off with you.”

I was so happy at that moment. I did not even consider where we were and who I am. All that my mind could focus on was her. I turned to face her, she turned to face me. I could feel the warmth of her breath. I smiled. She smiled. I kissed her.

This is about where everything turned around. We left the automobile just before Rose’s fiance’s men could find us. We were two people in love exploring this beautiful ship. We were climbing the stairs when we felt the intense rocking. The ship had struck an iceberg. I did not realize how happy I had become until I was beak to beak with the thought of losing her. I could not think of that though. My only mission was to get her out safely.

The ship went down slowly. We ran to every lifeboat, looking for one that Rose could board, but came up short. We kept running around, testing every line, but they were all too long. All of the sudden, the boats were gone. There were still what I estimate to be one thousand people left on the ship. They would all be going down into the water, and Rose would be included in that list unless I did something about it.

I gauged the way the ship would go down. The safest place to be would be where we met- the bow. The ship went vertical as I led her above the railing. I could have requested a beam right then and there. I could have taken Rose with me to the Cliffhanger. She may have been shellshocked at first, but I am sure she would have gotten used to it. My mind went there for a second, but it would never work that way. It would not even be a possibility. I can save one human and just wipe her memory of how it happened, but there is no way I could save them all. Even if I tried, everyone would know something strange had happened. In the best-case scenario, the people who saw it happen would be diagnosed with mass hysteria, but I could never do that to such a massive group of disaster survivors. People are still asking questions about the last time a scout did something like it.

No, I would have to get Rose out of this myself and do it under the radar. People would die, but not her. Many people would die, but not Rose. I put my hand on her as she lay atop the railing with me. She was shaking, her heart beating through her back.

“Ok, Rose,” I said loudly through the sound of Titanic creaking. “Take my hand. When the ship goes down, it’s gonna take us down with it. You’re gonna kick up as hard as you can. We’re gonna get through this Rose.” She nodded at me, still shaking.

When the ship started to descend she began to scream, “Oh god. Oh god, Jack,” over and over again. Praying to a deity that most earlings still believe to exist. This god of hers would not be of help, however. It was up to me to protect her.

The ship went down. We held our breath and kicked. Our hands unclasped at some point but luckily I was able to find her in the crowd of people who had reached the water. I directed her to a rogue door that I found on my way over to her and put her on it.

The screams of people around us joined a tenacious man with a whistle as the only sounds I heard. Rose was safe from the water, floating on the door. I held it in place and kept my eyes on her, scanning her vitals from below the door every so often. They were not ideal numbers, but she would be okay if they kept up like they were. Eventually, the boats would come back, and she would get on, warm up, and live the rest of her life on dry land.

Rose told me she loves me on that door. It made it so much harder knowing what I had to do. I did love her, but I kept that information to myself. She could not know what was about to happen.

I had to shake like everyone else to keep up the illusion. I had to pretend I was dying, and I had to do it in front of the person that it would hurt the most. When I could tell for sure that the boat was coming back, I held my breath, and I froze. It was torture hearing her try to scream “Jack… Jack. Her vocal cords were too cold to push out anything above a whisper. I had my eyes open while I played the part of the frozen body. I could see her pain. She was a second away from being saved, but she was miserable. She let me go into the water, and I had no choice but to tap my watch and call for Palada to beam me back up.

Ever since then, I wondered if I made the right decision. No, it was the only decision. I had to be allowed back. I could not give such a small part of my life away to a woman that would only live another five years. I should not have let it escalate this far in the first place.

I miss her. This log has not been easy to write. My mission was a failure. I had the time of my life. I fell in love, but I fell in love with an earling. I think I need to take a break from missions for a while. At least until I can stand to stop eavesdropping on the video link that I attached to her. I can keep some hope to see her again though. At some point, I will want to go on missions again, and I will need to come back for my camera.