Doom Patrol on Pittman

Day 1: Arrival on Pittman

I arrived at Pittman today. The planet is nothing like Earth. It is barren and hostile, with sharp winds that sweep across red deserts and jagged mountain ranges. The outpost where I will be stationed is called Fort Kilo Papa — a small fortified camp housing just over a hundred soldiers. There is a tension in the air, an unease none of us can quite shake. Rumors of strange activity in the outer territories have everyone on edge.

My orders are straightforward: reconnaissance and defense of the resource extraction zones. Pittman holds vast mineral reserves vital to both the United States and the Mutual Defense Force supply chains. We have heard whispers of sabotage in the mines, but what unsettles me most are the unconfirmed reports of something not human moving beyond the mountains.

For now, I will focus on settling in. Tomorrow brings my first briefing — and my first patrol.

Day 2: First Briefing

Today’s briefing made the situation clear. Captain Duvall, the outpost commander, outlined our mission. We are to patrol a perimeter covering nearly fifty square kilometers. The mining sites are scattered and vulnerable. The terrain is treacherous, and Pittman’s weather changes without warning. A calm sky can become a storm of dust and lightning in minutes. We were told to never travel without emergency kits and signal beacons.

What worries me most is the isolation. Reinforcements are days away at best. Out here, you either adapt — or vanish.

Day 4: First Combat Patrol

Our first patrol took us through Razorback Ridge — a jagged stretch of rock that looks like the spine of some ancient beast. I was paired with Sergeant Kiera, a no-nonsense veteran who has been here six months. She briefed me quickly, all business. The sky was a dull orange, the wind thick with sulfur from the mines. As we moved, I felt every muscle tighten. I had trained for this, but no training prepares you for the silence of a dead world.

We returned to Fort Kilo Papa at dusk without incident. Still, I could not shake the feeling that the planet itself was watching us.

Day 7: Dust Storm Delay

A storm rolled in overnight — the worst I have seen. The winds howled so fiercely that they rattled the walls of the outpost. Visibility dropped to zero. We spent the day sealed inside, waiting for it to pass. A few of us gathered in the mess hall, telling stories to pass the time. Corporal Diaz mentioned seeing strange blue lights in the mountains during his last patrol. Most laughed, but his eyes told a different story. He believes what he saw.

I am starting to understand what this planet does to people. The isolation gets into your head.

Day 10: Signs of Sabotage

Patrols had been quiet — until today. We reached one of the smaller mining outposts and found the equipment damaged. The sabotage was crude but deliberate. Whoever did it knew just enough to cause chaos. Sergeant Kiera suspects local dissidents, but I am not convinced. The air around the site felt wrong — heavy, like the calm before a storm. No tracks, no bodies, just silence. We reported it to Captain Duvall, and engineers have been dispatched to make repairs. It may have been minor, but it feels like the start of something larger.

Day 13: Midnight Patrol

I drew midnight patrol duty. The world at night here is suffocatingly dark. The only light comes from the faint glow of our visors and the reflection of stars against the dust. Halfway through the run, our scanners picked up a faint signal — irregular, mechanical, almost rhythmic. We tried to triangulate it, but it slipped away every time we closed in. We marked the coordinates and returned to base. Captain Duvall plans to send a drone, but the signal felt deliberate, as if it was testing us.

Day 16: Ambush at Razorback Ridge

We walked into an ambush today. Razorback Ridge again. The explosion came first, then the gunfire — sharp and precise. We dove for cover as the rocks erupted around us. I was hit in the shoulder, not bad enough to end me, but enough to shake my confidence. Sergeant Kiera dragged me behind a boulder while our squad returned fire. It lasted minutes, maybe hours; time blurred in the chaos. When it ended, there was nothing — no attackers, no bodies, no sign of where they came from.

The medics patched me up, but the wound is more than physical. Whoever they are, they know this terrain. They are watching us.

Day 19: Reconnaissance Drone Report

The drone sent to investigate the strange signal came back with disturbing data. It detected multiple heat signatures moving through the mountains — not human, not animal. They appeared briefly, erratically, before vanishing completely. Captain Duvall dismissed them as geological interference, but I saw the scan myself. The pattern was too structured to be random.

Sergeant Kiera and I have been ordered to lead a small recon team to the coordinates tomorrow. I can feel something building out there. Pittman is holding its breath.

Day 21: The Encounter

We reached the coordinates after hours of climbing through blistering heat and razor-sharp rock. The area was silent — no tracks, no debris, no signs of life. Then the movement caught my eye. A shadow against the ridge, too fast and deliberate to be a trick of light. Through the scope, I saw it clearly. Humanoid, but not human. Taller, leaner, encased in what looked like living armor. It carried an energy weapon unlike anything I have seen. Its movements were graceful, predatory.

And then it was gone.

We reported what we saw. Captain Duvall is skeptical, but Kiera and I know the truth. This is not sabotage. It is contact — and it is hostile.

Day 23: The Calm Before the Storm

Two days since the sighting, and the entire outpost feels different. Conversations stop when someone walks in. Every sound outside makes us flinch. No one wants to admit it, but we all know the truth — we are not alone on Pittman. Whatever is out there is studying us, learning how we operate. We have doubled patrols, fortified defenses, and armed the perimeter drones. I have been given command of a small patrol unit. The responsibility weighs heavily, but there is no room for fear now.

Day 25: The Alien Assault

It happened tonight. The sky came alive with streaks of blue light, cutting through the clouds like blades. At first, we thought it was a meteor storm or a mining explosion, but then the hum began — deep, resonant, vibrating through the ground and our chests.

Then they came.

The alien forces hit us with precision. Their weapons were silent, their attacks coordinated. Beams of energy tore through the barricades, melting steel and armor alike. We returned fire, but it was chaos. Half my squad went down in the first minutes. I caught glimpses of them in the light — their armor pulsing with energy, movements too fast to track. These were not scavengers or colonists. They were soldiers.

We fell back to Fort Kilo Papa under heavy fire. Reinforcements have been called, but I do not know if they will arrive in time. Pittman is no longer a frontier world. It is a battlefield. Whatever these things are, they are not finished with us.

— Corporal Kamau Nyaga, MDF Forward Recon, Fort Kilo Papa, Pittman