Start of the Insident

[TEB O.V.E.R.S.E.E.R. NETWORK // INCIDENT LOG: #44-B] [SOURCE: Retrieval Unit 457-45 - Internal Camera 7 - Security Airlock]

[02:14:00] Visual established. Unidentified Crew Member (Class: Labor) is huddled in the corner. The suit is pristine white. Subject is hyperventilating. Error detected in the validity of the unit's current designated parameters. [02:14:02] ASSESSMENT: Designated Coward. Retrieving the file of the unit. Docking hazard pay. [02:14:08] Audio pickup detects static from the internal comms channel. [02:14:10] COMMS (Female Voice): "Hey, is anyone still on this channel? Look, if anyone is left, I found the subject's nesting grounds three-quarters away from the mess hall. I am going to engage, but I could use backup." [02:17:25] COMMS: "The AI system seems to have been damaged in the last — Oh, shit! Die! Ahhh! No, not like—Fzzzz." [02:17:32] Comms terminate. Silence on the feed, save for the Crew Member weeping. [02:18:40] Heavy kinetic impact detected on the airlock door. Metal warping is visible. [02:20:45] Airlock breaches. A mass of red tendrils of unknown sample’s flesh enters the frame. The Crew Member is violently pulled off-screen. [02:20:48] A single tendril strikes the camera. [END OF FEED]

[O.V.E.R.S.E.E.R. AUTOMATED ASSESSMENT]

SUBJECT: Biological Anomaly Beta-7. Retrieval Unit 457-45. STATUS: Viable. Aggression metrics exceed projections by 34%. CREW STATUS: 100% Asset Write-Off (Acceptable Loss). DIRECTIVE: Secure Biological Asset for R&D and Genetics Divisions.

[TRANSMITTING NEW DIRECTIVE ORDERS TO NEAREST LOCAL P.A.U.L. UNIT...]

TARGET: Retrieval Unit 976-58. MISSION PARAMETERS UPDATED: Proceed to coordinates of Unit 457-45. Designate as "Hazardous Salvage." PROTOCOL OVERRIDE: Prioritize Biological Asset survival over Labor Assets.

[P.A.U.L. UNIT 976-58 RESPONSE RECEIVED]

Orders accepted, O.V.E.R.S.E.E.R. Updating crew ledgers now. Initiating wake cycle for optimal productivity. Readying case file along with new directions for crew mission. Proceeding.

The alarm blared.

Normally, it was a gentle, soft light within the room that would gradually brighten. A soft, melodic song played by an orchestra would gently rise in tempo and volume to wake us from our sleep. It was meant to be our only moment of peace — the only time sleep was allotted to us without that accursed debt counter constantly mocking me from the corner of my eye. If my blood pressure rose at the same pace as that number, I would have already dropped dead.

It was meant to be a natural way for our bodies to wake up so we might work at optimal ability without having a heart attack. Instead, this dumb siren was going off, blaring like those old military drill alarms from back in the day.

The only reason I knew we weren’t under attack was the floating text projected in front of me from my watch: "NEW MISSION. REPORT TO BRIDGE AND RECEIVE NEW DIRECTIVE IN 30 MINUTES."

Why does Paul have to do this to us? To me? I swear that the logic unit is warped and the AI is malfunctioning.

I groaned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as the harsh, artificial lights of my room flickered brighter the longer I stayed still. I wondered if this thing would start turning into heat lamps and cook me alive after blinding me if I failed to get up in time. The air smelled like a sterilized doctor’s office once again. I kept having to wake up to this horrible chemical smell every sleep cycle. Why can’t they invest in some aromatherapy, or why can’t my body block out that smell yet? Why am I the only one on this ship that can’t seem to ignore it?

"Good morning, Warren!" a voice chimed from the speaker above my head. It was rich, warm, and sickeningly polite — like some slimy insurance salesman. What made it worse was that the thing’s voice was a Vocaloid, completely synthetic, unlike normal AI, which sounded no different from any other human’s voice. What is the company thinking? There isn’t even a difference in the cost of it all. "It is currently 0600 hours, standard ship time. I hope you rested well."

I grunted, swinging my legs over the edge of the metal bunk. My joints popped in protest. I swear, I have aged more than twenty years in the one year I have served on this wreck of a ship. "Cut the crap, Paul. Give me the numbers."

"Of course, Warren," the ship's AI replied, its cheerful tone never wavering. "Your current TEB employee designation is MS-205-M-106-Rt-976-58-C40,056, as you are readily aware. Your outstanding transit and housing debt currently stands at 40,556.02 credits. Factoring in today's oxygen and ration deductions, you are currently operating at a net loss. I do apologize for this sad news, Warren. But as you have seen from the announcement, we have been assigned a new mission directive. It is guaranteed to give a significant net positive performance on your accrued debt."

I stared at the sleek metal floor. More than forty-thousand credits. My mother and siblings were breathing clean, filtered air on a satellite colony right now, and every breath they took could only add to that number. Only God knows the hair loss Dad must be facing from all this stress.

"Great. So, Paul, spit it out," I said, my voice dry and dripping with cynicism. I could already imagine the nightmare waiting for us.

"I am sorry, Warren, but I am unable to spit as you have asked. However," P.A.U.L. continued brightly, "the wonderful news is that O.V.E.R.S.E.E.R. has just assigned Retrieval Unit 457-45 as a high-priority salvage coordinate. The projected hazard pay could reduce your debt by a projected three point two percent!"

I paused, halfway into my grease-stained jumpsuit. As advanced as these things are, why can’t they clean anything correctly? Ah, my thoughts are wandering again. I smacked my cheeks to focus a little more. "High priority? Out here, in this quadrant?"

"Indeed, Warren! It seems another vessel has experienced a catastrophic systems failure. We are to secure the ship and all surviving cargo, along with any crew, if viable." The AI's voice sounded almost giddy. "It is going to be a very productive day indeed."

I sighed, zipping up the suit and reaching for the comms panel by my bed to make my weekly call home. If the company was offering hazard pay, it meant they expected us to bleed for it. Might as well get my credits and benefits worth. Though it is never worth it.

Ah, there I go sounding like an old man again.

"Yeah," I muttered to the empty room. "I can just see it now. Another job well done."