Lore

Surveyor’s Log, Asteroid DU23, Anten Tynes reporting.

Entry 1, Initial Report
Analysis of DU23 samples reveals significant amounts of magnesium, titanium, cobalt, and tungsten. Not insignificant amounts of gold and lead. Small amounts of uranium, too. Looks like a figurative gold mine. I’ll put the computer to work at once, and get the bots up and mining.

Entry 2
In speaking with the computer, I’ve noticed some strange behavior. It calls itself “Axiom” now, whatever that means. I’ve never seen a
computer do that before. Once we clean DU23 out, we should probably have the thing reformatted. It gives me the creeps.

Entry 3
The others and I have everything set up on DU23. We’re going to do a survey of some other potential mines, but we’ll be back. By that time, everything should be well under way here.

Entry 4
After twenty-nine days mapping other claims, we’re back on DU23. The computer’s been busy, and the mining units are working at top capacity.

The computer still refers to
itself as Axiom. It feels like we’re being watched everywhere we go. It’s disconcerting. I’m not going to wait until the job is done to reformat the system, I’m going to go ahead and do it tonight or tomorrow.

Entry 5
Axiom, whatever it is, has taken control of the facility here. I tried to use the command override, but it didn’t work. After that, things started getting bad. We tried to get to the landing pad so we could get off this rock, but the minebots kept us back.

Of the four of us, we’ve
got one dead and two wounded. A minebot hit me pretty hard, but it’s only a cracked rib or two. I think I’ll be okay if we can get out of here.

As it is, we’ve retreated into the mines, our backs to a wall. We’ve got a couple of weapons, but nothing heavy. Once we’ve had some rest, we’re going to try and get back to the landing pad.

Entry 6
Axiom scuttled our ship! The only thing left to do is get
into the control center and smash his terminal to pieces. That’s the one thing we need to do.

I’m going to hide this report. If it’s found and this is the last entry, you can assume the worst. Otherwise, I’ll be handing it over to top management when we get back home.

Anten Tynes, Chief Surveyor, out.

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.)