Victoria Ashford's Journal 1


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Here follows audio transcripts of the personal journal of Victoria Ryder Ashford.


Sounds of fumbling with the recorder.

How does this thing… Ah, there.

Faint cough


Session one.


It is said, ‘The first casualty of war is the truth’ and if that has been true for the wars of the past, it is even more so in a war where the stakes are not only the survival of our species, but where all of our records and communications are destroyed. Even as dire as the situation seems now, it is important that we think of the future. I can do little to save the knowledge that was contained within our great stores of data, but I will try to shed some light on the past for anyone that might come across this recorder in the future.


As such, allow me first to introduce myself. I am Victoria Ryder Ashford, 11th Countess of Ashford. I was born in the year 2010 in Ashford in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. I am a trained doctor and surgeon, and until recently studied the field of neurocybernetics. I have wanted for little in my life, and that has certainly coloured my experiences as well as my perception of the recent events.


A small pause follows


During the afternoon of January 1st 2039, I was traveling from Los Angeles, heading back to London. In the plane with me was the pilot Jerry Smith, his co-pilot and a member of the security detail Vincent Parker,  the flight attendant Amanda Nell as well as Susanne and Jonathan Vega, also in the security detail. At roughly 5:15 PM the airplane encountered what first seemed like turbulence, before roughly five minutes later the airplane lost all power. Later I have managed to piece together a rough recollection of what happened. Sometime during the night and early morning of the 1st, NASA's deep space radar telescopes picked up incoming objects. It took a few hours for them to make sure that it was not simply a bug, and around ten AM they sent an alert to the United Nations, who distributed it. Everyone was advised to stay inside and pay attention to the news. At three, the objects had reached Earth, and wasted no time, first destroying all satellites in orbit, before moving to heavily populated areas and starting their occupation of the planet.


I came to later that evening, having been pulled out of the wreckage by Miss Vega. The pilot, Mister Smith and the flight attendant, Amanda Nell were both already deceased, having died in the crash. Mister Vega had sustained some injuries, while myself, Mister Parker and Miss Vega were all only lightly injured. While Mister Vega had already been given rudimentary first aid, I immediately proceeded to see what I could do for his injuries, while Miss Vega went to scout the area. None of us were at that point aware of what had happened, other than a power outage in the airplane. Once I was finished helping Mister Vega, I tried calling an ambulance, but there was no response. Perturbed by this I retrieved my long range communicator and contacted my father. It was not my father I reached, but my sister, and only through her frantic explanation were I made aware of the ongoing invasion, as well as my father's death only hours before. That was all there was time for before the connection was broken. In a state of shock, I relayed the information to Mister Vega and Mister Parker. The rest of the night was spent huddled around a campfire. The next two weeks were spent roaming the countryside, surviving on what we managed to scavenge from the wreck and on the road, as the big city in the distance, which I later learned was Cincinati, had giant.. Spaceships hovering over it. Miss Vega never returned from her scouting mission, and Mister Vega died from drinking the water from a river after our water supply had run out. I drank from the river as well, and I had quite horrible pain for days afterwards, but seemingly have taken no permanent damage from it. Mister Parker did not drink at all. Our story would probably have ended at that point, if a patrol from the local national guard had not found us soon after.


We were brought to an improvised camp in a small city called Eaton, which lies north of Cincinnati, and is where I am currently located. Once hearing that I was a doctor, they were overjoyed and I was put to work at once. I have not had much time to process… Or rather, I have not given myself much time to process what has happened, on an emotional level, and I am not sure it is a good idea.


Here the audio pauses for a few minutes


I asked if they had an audio recorder, and they have me this one, and with it, I shall start my project of documenting this… Resistance. However, I am aware that there is no singular truth, and as such I have asked that others do the same, and give several perspectives on what has happened. Failing that, I shall try to do a bit of reporting on my own and document their take on things. Though work takes most of my days lately, and there is no end in sight for wounded soldiers and civilians alike.


In virtus scientia.

Victoria Ashford.

Recording ends here


Ninja_Nun UnknownAffliction

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