Category: Isolation Protocol Logs

Isolation Protocol – Log 5: The Joes Know

Isolation Protocol – Log 5: The Joes Know

Difficulty: Survivor Mode (Permadeath Rule in Effect)

“I was ready for the Alien. I wasn’t ready for a bunch of plastic-faced androids with the bedside manner of a toaster.”

Starting where I left off, I spotted a Working Joe in the distance. Their glowing eyes cut through the sterile white corridors, and the way they moved — steady, unhurried — felt more unsettling than if they’d been running. With a little help from my motion tracker, I eventually found a computer up a set of stairs that looked like it might let me contact the Torrens. Unfortunately, Apollo essentially told me, “NOPE.” Back to square one.

Not wanting to deal with the Joe directly, I ducked into a vent. The metal clanged beneath my hands as I crawled through the stale air, only to find myself right back where I started. Brilliant navigation, 10/10.

Sneaking Past the Plastic Brigade

My second attempt was a little more productive. Using the tracker’s handy objective marker, I pushed forward, only to find two Joes patrolling opposite sides of the room. Their footsteps echoed across the floor like someone tapping on the inside of a coffin. Staying crouched and moving like my life depended on it (because it did), I managed to slip past them.

Along the way, I picked up the blueprint for EMP v1.1. Not sure how effective it is against the Joes, but it went into my collection of “items I’ll probably forget exist when I need them most.”

Soon after, I stumbled on a save point. Though I’m not religious, I thanked some higher power for that little glowing box of mercy. One save later, and I was thrown into three hacking games in quick succession — tense but surprisingly fun, especially with the eerie hum of machinery pressing in around me.

Contact with Samuels

At long last, I made contact with someone from the Torrens: Samuels. I could have hugged him through the screen. He was with Taylor, who looked in rough shape and needed medical help. Samuels couldn’t leave her side, but he promised to send transport for me. All I had to do was make it back to them.

Which, naturally, was when the alarm went off. The lights strobed red, the siren wailed like a dying animal, and every Joe in the area decided it was time to reenact Terminator.

Panic, Chaos, and Dripping Vents

This is where stealth went straight out the window. I’d like to say I handled it like Snake in a cardboard box. Dear reader: I did not. Instead, I panicked, sprinted, hid badly, and almost ended the entire run then and there.

Rather than just tell you about it, here’s the video in full:

Yes, I could have used the EMPs. No, I didn’t — because I forgot I had them in the chaos. And the revolver? Pretty sure it’s about as effective as shouting at the Joes, given what I’ve seen. Meanwhile, the Alien was making its presence known again, dripping from the vents like the world’s worst plumbing problem.

I even had a staring contest with one of the Joes. Spoiler: they can, in fact, see me. And if they can find me in lockers, what chance do I have against the Xenomorph?

Somehow, against all odds, I survived the chase and stumbled into the SciMed Tower. Samuels and Taylor are waiting… if I can actually reach them next time.

Continue the Journey:

Log 4 |
Log 6 Coming Soon

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Isolation Protocol – Log 4: The Joes Aren’t Alright

Rule Set: Three Strikes (Xenomorph only)
Location: Seegson Communications
“I’ve seen enough sci-fi to know that when the friendly android offers you a seat, you probably shouldn’t sit down.”

Back Upstairs, Back in Trouble

After possibly releasing the galaxy’s worst houseguest, I have no choice but to keep moving toward Seegson Communications. The other survivors? They can fend for themselves—if they’re still breathing.

I creep upstairs just in time to hear the Xenomorph deal with the group who wanted me dead. That’s… justice? Karma? Either way, I don’t plan on joining the casualty list. I get a quick glimpse of the creature before ducking behind a box. No thanks, not burning Strike One yet.

Moments later, I slip into the elevator, tuner in hand, praying it doesn’t decide to test its claws on the doors.

Welcome to Seegson Communications

The elevator opens, and who’s waiting? A Working Joe android. I can tell the designers blew the budget on “creepy plastic skin” and “unsettling stare mode.” Still, the first one politely offers me a seat. I decline. I’ve already got chairs at home.

Exploring further, I try to explain I need to contact the Torrens. The Joes, in their usual customer-service-death-mask tone, tell me that Communications is off-limits. Naturally, this means I’m going to have to sneak in.

Tracker, Toys, and Trust Issues

In the middle of poking around, I find something glorious: the motion tracker. Not only does it point toward objectives, but it immediately informs me that something is behind me. Cue panic—until I realise it’s just another Joe, calmly asking if everything is alright. (No, everything is not alright, pal.)

I also stumble on a blueprint for a noisemaker. Given how much stomping and hissing I’ve heard lately, this feels like crafting salvation.

But then I see it: Joes can’t be trusted. A human survivor argues with one, pulls a gun, fires—does nothing. The Joe responds by snapping him in half like a breadstick. Great. Now I know they’re not just weird, they’re actively homicidal. Thanks, random gun guy. You doomed us all.

Shut Down the Cameras

My objective: disable the surveillance cameras so I can sneak through. Problem: I have no idea where I’m going. Solution: follow the magic beeping rectangle.

The tracker points me toward the controls, while also telling me there are two Joes nearby. Excellent—nothing like disabling security while feeling like the least secure person alive.

I find the panel, turn off the cameras, and pocket a survivor’s ID tag because looting under pressure is apparently my thing. Then I wait. And wait. And wait for the world’s slowest elevator. I swear it was coming from the far side of the station.

Hope on the Airwaves

At last, I reach Communications. And then I hear it: the voice of the Torrens, cutting through the static. Actual hope, actual contact, actual chance of escape. For a moment, Sevastopol doesn’t feel like a tomb—it feels like a finish line I might actually reach.

Of course, the Joes are still wandering the halls, the Xenomorph is still on the loose, and the whole station feels one breath away from falling apart. But right now? I’ve got a signal. And that’s enough to keep going.

Log 4 Pro Tips

  • Never assume the Joes are harmless. They’re not.
  • Motion tracker = survival MVP. Treasure it.
  • Don’t trust other survivors with guns—they’ll get you all killed.
  • If an elevator takes too long, assume it’s mocking you.
Continue the journey:
Log 3 |
Log 4 (You Are Here) |
Log 5
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Isolation Protocol – Log 3: Revolvers, Rewires, and the Thing in the Vents

Difficulty: Survival Diary Rule – Three Strikes
Optional Rules: NPC kills = game over, Alien kills = limited chances

“Axel didn’t make it. Now it’s just me, a ship full of strangers who want me dead, and something in the vents that definitely isn’t paying rent.”

Humans Are Worse

With Axel gone, my only hope of reaching the Torrens lies in the communications deck. Easy enough — except the moment I step into the elevator area, another survivor decides that today is a good day to introduce me to firearms, up close and personal.

I manage to grab the gadget he dropped (which, of course, is missing a power cell), but before I can even inspect it, her mates show up, heavily armed and highly motivated. Rewiring becomes my best friend: a quick distraction lures three away, but I forgot about the fourth. He has a revolver, and apparently the aim of a cowboy.

Running seems like the best life choice, and surprisingly, they don’t chase me. Probably union rules.

Scavenger’s Delight

With my heart rate only slightly higher than a microwave on full blast, I take stock. A revolver. A keycard. And a flashbang blueprint that reminds me of my Counter-Strike 2 days, where I was just as likely to blind myself as the enemy.

I find a black box from the Nostromo and for one terrible moment think I’ll finally learn what happened to my mother — except, of course, the recordings are gone. Figures.

Lockdowns and Maintenance Jacks

The room seals tight with a full lockdown. The gadget I picked up earlier? Now powered thanks to a conveniently placed cell. My shiny new Security Access Tuner opens doors like magic, but the ship clearly didn’t get the memo: it wants me stuck.

I dig around, crack open a door with my trusty maintenance jack (still my favourite tool), and finally find the terminal to lift the lockdown.

That’s when the vents begin to whisper.

The Monster Appears

It drops down from the ceiling — long, sleek, and infinitely uninterested in human conversation. The same thing that took Axel.

I crawl under a table, holding my breath as it sniffs around. That’s when I remember: I just unlocked extra exits for myself… which also means extra exits for it. Oops.

It slips into the vent and vanishes, leaving me shaken but alive. I follow at a very safe distance and then beeline for the nearest save point, head swivelling like I’m in a budget Exorcist remake.

Game saved. Nerves fried.

Log 3 Closing Thoughts

  • Survivors are hostile and revolvers hurt.
  • Rewiring saves lives.
  • Flashbangs will probably kill me, not the Alien.
  • The Xenomorph exists, it knows I exist, and we’re now on a collision course.

Next time: I find out if my revolver is a comfort, or just six shiny excuses to die loudly.

Continue the journey:
Log 2 | Log 3 (You Are Here) | Coming Soon: Log 4
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Isolation Protocol: An Alien Isolation Survival Diary – Log 2: The Jack, the Gun, and the Monster

Isolation Protocol – Log 2: The Jack, the Gun, and the Monster

Difficulty: Medium

Optional Features: Permadeath enabled with the Three Strikes Rule

Alien Deaths: 0/3

“Axel says it’s called surviving. I’m starting to think it’s called ‘dying slower.’”

Sevastopol isn’t a space station anymore — it’s a coffin with too many rooms. The walls groan, the lights flicker, and the floor is littered with suitcases nobody will ever claim. Every corner creaks like it’s considering whether to collapse, and the stench is somewhere between fried wires and unwashed corpses.

Somewhere in this mess, I’ve decided, lies survival. Or at least the tools to fake it.

The Maintenance Jack (Switch Edition)

My first discovery is a vent leading to baggage claim. A shadow darts past, proof I’m not as alone as I thought. Naturally, I follow — because curiosity didn’t just kill the cat, it strapped the cat into a jumpsuit and dumped it on Sevastopol.

That shadow leads me to a morgue. Body bags stacked like leftovers nobody wants. And there, in a nearby room, I finally spot my prize: a corpse clutching the Maintenance Jack. He’s left behind an ID tag and a final audio log, a last will whispered into static. I take both, because apparently, I’ve become a grave robber with a side hustle in identity theft.

The Jack is clunky but glorious. On Switch, it works like this:

  • A: Grab the brace
  • Hold ZL + ZR: Apply elbow grease
  • Left Stick: Yank open the door like you mean it

With this tool, half the station is suddenly my oyster. Unfortunately, the other half is still locked behind plasma torches, ion torches, and my crippling lack of luck.

Enter Axel, Stage Left (Gun in Hand)

Just as I’m getting used to prying open doors like a budget locksmith, I find myself in a cutscene with a gun pressed to my head.

Meet Axel. His opening line is basically “don’t move.” My counter-offer is “please don’t shoot.” Somehow, we agree on a deal: he’ll help me through Sevastopol if he gets a seat on the Torrens. His sales pitch is… intense.

He mentions “a killer” stalking the station, but claims he hasn’t seen it. Which is funny, because I have — in the shadows, in the atmosphere, in the dripping dread that clings to every vent.

Not five minutes later, Axel points his gun at two other survivors. His definition of “nice guy” clearly needs work. The elevator door shuts, they vanish, and I find myself trapped in the world’s most awkward team-up.

Flashlights, Blueprints, and Sneaking 101

Axel hands me a flashlight — finally, something to pierce the gloom. On Switch: Y toggles it. Of course, batteries are rarer than honesty in a card game, so I use it sparingly.

Soon after, he introduces me to Sevastopol’s main sport: sneaking past armed strangers. Axel assures me they’ll kill us if spotted, which I would’ve figured out from the way they pace around with twitchy trigger fingers.

I crouch-walk the whole way, hugging shadows while my heartbeat plays the percussion section of a horror soundtrack. I flick the generator off as a distraction and duck into a vent, holding my breath as one of them passes inches from the grate. My first close call, and probably not my last.

On the plus side: I find a Medkit blueprint. Ingredients: 1 x SCJ Injector, 1 x Compound B, 1 x Bonding Agent, and 10 Scrap. I craft one immediately, because nothing says “confidence” like carrying your own first-aid kit in a death maze.

Death of a Guide

We work together to force open a door. Axel gets jumped. I swing the Maintenance Jack like a baseball bat, knocking the guy back. Axel overreacts with a bullet, which echoes down the corridors like a dinner bell for every hostile in range.

We run, ducking into corridors as voices shout behind us. Axel yells, “This is survival!” I yell, “This is stupid!” Neither of us is wrong.

Then: drip.

A shadow looms overhead. Axel freezes. A tail punctures his chest, lifts him clean off the ground, and throws him like a doll into the darkness. No quips. No bravado. Just silence.

The killer is real. And it spares me — for now.

Transit Terror

Shell-shocked, I stumble into the transit station. The lights flicker, the vents groan, and every sound feels like it belongs to the thing that just gutted Axel.

I hit the call button. The screen tells me the train is coming. I wait.

And wait.

Every second stretches into eternity. My eyes dart between the vents and the shadows, convinced something will lunge at me before the doors hiss open.

When the transit finally arrives, I sprint inside, slam the button, and ride it out toward the Spire. Axel is gone. The Alien is here. And I have never hated public transport more in my life.

Log 2 Key Takeaways

  • Maintenance Jack: Your new best friend (A, ZL + ZR, Left Stick).
  • Flashlight: Y toggles it — conserve those batteries.
  • Medkit Blueprint: Injector, Compound B, Bonding Agent, and Scrap.
  • Not all survivors are friendly. Some are Axel. Some are worse.
  • The Alien has entered the stage. Stealth is no longer optional.
Continue the Protocol:
Log 1 |
Log 2 (You Are Here) |
Log 3
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Isolation Protocol: An Alien Isolation Survival Diary – Log 1: Welcome to Sevastopol

Isolation Protocol – Log 1: Welcome to Sevastopol

Difficulty: Medium

Optional Features: Permadeath enabled with the Three Strikes Rule

Alien Deaths: 0/3

“Wake up, get dressed, and then—oh look—Sevastopol is already on fire. Just another day in space.”

I surface from hypersleep mid-dream: Samuels, calm as ever, telling me they might have found my mother. The memory dissolves with the condensation on the pod, and I’m back on the Torrens—groggy, curious, and already bracing for whatever comes next. A quick change (Left Stick to move, L Stick Press to sprint if you’re running late), a polite check-in with Samuels and Taylor, and it’s off to the bridge.

The view outside is a mix of stars, shadows, and the silhouette of Sevastopol Station — our intended destination. We attempt contact, but whoever’s in charge sounds less “welcoming committee” and more “we’re about to collapse into the void.” The Torrens’ captain gives us a 24-hour window before she has to leave. Naturally, the sensible next step is to spacewalk over to the station.

Spacewalk to Disaster

It starts calmly enough… and then part of Sevastopol explodes. Just, you know, explodes. The blast sends Taylor, Samuels, and me flying in separate directions. I lose sight of them immediately. Whether they’re alive or not is a question for later — right now, my only option is to board the station and hope I can make contact with the Torrens.

I make it inside, but not without blacking out first. When I wake, the game politely suggests I “find help.” Thanks for the tip, game.

Arrivals, Departures, and Dust

I strip out of my spacesuit (A to interact when prompted) and begin exploring. The arrivals and departure area is silent — not “space peaceful” silent, but “something is wrong” silent. A detour through a vent (A to climb in, Left Stick to crawl) brings me to a terminal (A to use) with a file explaining the station is being decommissioned. That explains the peeling paint and flickering lights, but not the explosion.

I scavenge what I can — scrap metal, random bits and bobs, anything that looks vaguely useful (A to pick up). The game hands me a flare and tells me how to use it (B to open the radial menu, Right Stick to select flare, ZR to raise it, R to throw). I decide to keep it for emergencies… and then immediately waste it in the next room because the tutorial insists. Lovely.

The Stash and the Strangers

A generator hums back to life under my hands (Tap A three times to crank it like a stubborn lawnmower), and another terminal gives me a code for a stash: 0340. Apparently no one’s bothered to loot it because “nobody goes there anymore.” I file that away for later.

Turning the power on triggers movement — two figures sprint across the room and vanish through a door they promptly lock behind them. Friendly bunch. I give chase, but I’m stopped cold by security glass.

Spotting the Torrens

I reach the passenger lounge, and there she is: the Torrens, still in one piece. All I need now is a way to contact her. Another terminal fills in a few more blanks about the station’s decline, and I even find a new flare to replace the one I wasted earlier. I save my progress (A at an emergency save station, then confirm with A again) — no sense tempting fate.

Next log: with luck, I’ll have more than just a handful of supplies and unanswered questions.

Log 1 Switch Pro Tips

  • Left Stick: Move
  • L Stick Press: Sprint
  • R Stick Press: Crouch
  • ZL: Peek
  • ZR: Raise Motion Tracker
  • A: Interact / Pickup / Save
  • B: Open Radial Menu
  • R: Fire / Throw equipped item
  • D-Pad Up: Open Journal
  • 0340: First stash code — note it down
  • Always save at emergency stations when you can

Continue the Journey

Log 1 (You Are Here) | Log 2

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