AUTHOR: M.SGT. JAMES WHITTERSON2304 HOURS, JAN. 7, 20??ASHUNRAK, UNKNOWN, SEPPTAM 1CLASSIFICATION LEVEL 4, EYES ONLY

RECIPIENT: NASA CLASSIFIED SECTOR

            Pop in, see if the life is hostile, leave. Seems simple if they are nice. Only problem is, they aren’t. As soon as our ship entered the atmosphere, we knew something was wrong. Our first sign was that all movement that we had seen from space was eerily gone. Our second was the large glowing sphere of plasma. I think the third might have been when that sphere became a beam that blasted straight through the ship from front to back, killing both our pilots, and making our departure impossible. F-Bomb responded first by shouting his trademark work, and grabbing up his favorite gun, and launching an RPG right back at the weapon. Nothing happened. It proceeded to charge up again to eliminate us completely. Only the Sepptians didn’t count on our speed. Before it could fire, our ship crashed into the edge of the satellite dish like weapon, sending the laser off at a random direction. Fortunately, all of us minus the pilots survived. We then proceeded to break down the door to the weapon control room, only to find that our little alien friends had obliterated themselves with some type of explosive. There was no trace of them. More later.

James Whitterson, signing off.