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Name: Sarah Andrews
Age: 21
Born at: Planet New London
ID: Civilian (unconfirmed)
Current Ship: Combat Service Vehicle
Location: Philadelphia Station

Sarah Andrews is a kind and innocent-attitude girl who recently decided to find more opportunities in space. She is medium-height, with brown eyes, brown and long hair. She was born just a day after Kalan did, but in New London, Bretonia. When she was 16, her family moved to Planet Erie, in fear that the "tensions between Kusari and Bretonia", that were clearly visible at the time, could become war. She attended the same school as Kalan (and company), that's where she met him. They got along very well, even in the day they first met.
Kalan later started dating her. The relationship was a very strong one.
"That's my little hermano!" Robertrush often said to his brother.
But then it happened: The Erie Incident, 2 years ago. It was when some people that inhabited Erie suddenly dissapeared. Although this incident is not known by many people, it left a permanent scar in Sarah's and Kalan's heart: they have been seperated by force. She had been one of the many people who had apparently dissapeared.
Not much is known about her dissapearence (or anyone's), but on this present day, she has been spotted in Pennsylvania and New York.
Kalan is yet not aware that she has returned safe and sound, but that is just a matter of time...

3rd October 0818 A.S.
Pennsylvania System

Sarah Andrews Log #2 (#1 seems to be missing)
Well, I hope Kalan got the message... Mr. Cody seemed to be a nice person...
I got nothing else to do to keep me busy and/or with money, so I often mine in the Helium fields at Pennsylvania.
*sigh*...I really, really hope Mr. Cody didn't forget to tell him the message... I would send it personally, but I don't know Kalan's Communication ID...

6th October 0816 A.S.
Omicron Kappa System

"Spatial" Deep Space Explorer Wilde Prototype II Voice Log #5

A voice is currently playing. It is a man with a deep voice.

"We are currently docked in a Rheinland Battleship we've dominated. 3 Nomad Ships are currently docked too for a resting session. Don't ask me about it. I have no clue either."

"While we failed at modifying this Spatial Prototype, we have got the "items" we need to advance. This talented family... they'll be nice slaves to work on our new ships, and improving the Scorpion..."

"And now, we are just at one damn step of finally making the Spatial something less useless to us. And--"

A loud alarm is sounding. Gunshots are heard, and explosions from space are detected from the ship's radar. Apparently someone planned a raid against this Battleship.

"Hold on, we might have been spotted. I have a-- GAAAGH!!!"

Someone had shot the infested man, and talked inside the ship. Multiple voices are heard.

"Let's move it! This is our only chance! Come on!"
"Come on, get on with it!"
"Sarah, this way!"
"There you are! Hop in!"

Not much is known about this event. All we know is that the ship somehow blew through the docking gates of the Battleship.

"Oh... my... god..." Sarah mumbled to herself, surprised by the large, blue and somewhat transparent Nomad Guardian, below the docking gates. "What is THAT?!!" She later shouted.

From here... the log stops.

2 years...
2 bloody years...
Seems impossible... doesn't it?
Being lost in space for 2 years...
Seems impossible, doesn't it?
The truth is... nothing's impossible.

"We got enough supplies... right?" Ron asked to the rest of the escapees. "This'll take a while... the Nav Map's busted."

"What do you mean the Navigational Map is broken?!! First we got out of hell and now we need to go through another one?!" Sarah panicked.

After slapping one of the command prompts tha particularly did nothing, he faced Sarah rapidly, with his eyes sharper than heavily sharpened pencils, and says: "You aren't even supposed to be here, Sarie." He coughed as he was desperatly storing his panic in his mind, making an effort not to unleash it. "Grrn... it was Kalan they wanted... the last one of us..." His hands and arms were shaking like palm trees in the middle of an hurricane, as he was pulling himself together, pressing against the "useless" buttons of the same command prompt. "They already killed... hmmm... what's this? Someone's trying to contact us... Brrr..."

The message followed:
"Omicron Kappa, F4. Omicron Delta, 4D, FP11."