Lore

It’d be an understatement to say that this has been a really crappy week.

The cargo we picked up at Vespa was contaminated with… something. No one seems to know what, only that it makes folks sick. I mean, really sick. Doc Cordwain seems to think he can cure it with the medical supplies we have on board. That’s probably the best news I’ve had all day.

Lore

There’s a slight problem with Doc Cordwain’s plan.

You see, Ensign Bardlet’s locked himself in the med bay. He won’t come out, and he’s overridden the security protocols. Bardlet’s convinced that he’ll become infected and end up dead – or worse – if he lets us inside.

If I can’t convince Bardlet to open the med bay, things are only going to get more severe. And if he does let us in, I’ll probably shoot him on general principles for being such a moron.

Lore

Bardlet’s still in there, and sick folks have started dying. What’s worse, the infection seems to create some kind of alien parasite. You die, you burst, and out comes a terrible alien THING.

I’m not feeling real well. I’m pretty sure I’m a carrier now. I begged Bardlet for help, but he ignored me. He’s not sick, so he must’ve used some of our med supplies on himself. The greedy bastard’s going to come through this without a scratch, mark my words… unless the things get in there and tear him up.

Lore

I can feel it moving inside me. I should’ve stayed on Gateway… a nice, cushy office job, no aliens, no nutty ensigns… oh, well.

Doc Cordwain is dead. I killed the thing that crawled out of him, but there are more… so many more. The ship’s systems are functioning erratically. The containment shields aren’t stable.

I’m not going to let this thing kill me. I’ll kill myself, first. Seems to be the best way to go, anyway. Cordwain’s death was… unpleasant.

Navigator forgive me, and damn Bardlet to the void!

Captain Lairdell, signing off.

Lore

(This ship’s manifest lists a number of items being loaded onto the ship at a port referred to as “Vespa.”)

2 cases Aurin salt licks
22 cartons aged cheese-wine (Draken)
12 cases Gnoxian stout (QM’s Note: Better make that 11 cases, heh)
1.2 tons misc. luxury goods (QM’s Note: Mostly underclothes, Chua sizes only)
1 box spherical objects (QM’s Note: These look like eggs or something – do they need refrigeration?)
4 crates “Skinny James” meat snacks

201 entertainment cassettes (QM’s Note: Various titles, mostly romantic comedy)

(The cargo manifest ends abruptly.)

Lore

Quartermaster Lipton reported to me this morning. While tallying cargo from Port Vespa, he dropped a container of spherical objects. Several of the objects burst, and Lipton inhaled whatever they contained. Ran usual toxin screen – no results. Assigned Lipton to bed rest until his nausea subsides.

(later)

Lipton’s back and he’s sicker than ever. Nausea is worse, and he can’t stop vomiting, even when there shouldn’t be anything left for his system to purge. I don’t know where it’s
coming from. I feel bad for the guy. Will prescribe anti-nausea meds and prep him for a blood cleansing.

(later)

Bardlet was just in here, raving about people being sick. He seems distraught, so I’ll leave him here to calm down while I go check on Lipton’s status.

(The medical log ends suddenly.)