A small pod would be seen floating through space, a bright red flashing beacon denoting its location alongside a transmitter broadcasting its coordinates to any ship within range. If a vessel would approach, they would find the seal of the snarling wolf, a logo from a once famed paramilitary organization alongside its hull. Retrieval would be a paltry task, being excessively easy due to the relatively small size of the object, as the pod contained no cargo. It simply would consist of a transmitter, small micro reactor to power itself, and a rudimentary hyperdrive. And if one directly accessed the datalink on the pod, they would find an unencrypted transmission as the only file aboard.

The video begins showing a bridge suffering severe damage, alarm klaxons blaring as the figure in the video seems to be wounded. The older man coughs up blood a few times before staring into the recording camera and speaks.

"My name, is Aleksandr Kerensky, Captain of TDWSS Hope, interim leader of The Dire Wolves. If you are receiving this, then it appears we've finally bit off more than we could tackle. We came to a system in the unknown regions on reports that we have gathered. Our forward observers' last transmissions confirmed our suspicions. We found him. After searching for a long time we'd finally found him. But knowing the risks, we could not allow others to follow us to our destination. Our scouts reported otherworldly environments, a veritable hell scape waiting for us. Enemies that defy description and reality. In hindsight, this was probably a foolish mistake for us to pursue it alone, but we couldn't just stand by. He would have done the same for any of us-" An explosion would rock the screen as more yelling would go on in the background.

"If you find this, we have been lost. We chose to go willingly into the dark to try and retrieve that which is irretrievable, attain what is unattainable, to do the impossible. And we have failed. The ship is falling. The men and women on the ground are running low on ammunition, supplies and are dying. We cannot hold, we cannot retreat, and it seems cannot win. Forgive us. Our commitments to other battles and struggles shall now be left unfulfilled. It is up to you now. Gods' speed, good luck,"

"And may the force be with you,"

The transmission would become more ecstatic as more explosions would rock the background, followed by yelling, screaming, and what would seem like otherworldly screeching. However in the face of all of it, the old man would seem calm, resigned, and almost relaxed as he simply reached forward and pressed a button.

With this the recording would end and the pod would deactivate as its generator finally died. The beacon would cease its transmission, and the pod would become an inert hunk of metal and electronics.