COMMANDER’S LOG: SPACE TIME 9333333333333-[[[[[CHECKSUM ERROR>: l ’ }}#….[
Alice B: Oh no>. I’m back here. It takes me a minute to work out where “here” is, but my hindbrain’s way ahead of me, already shuddering in revulsion. I’m in the bloody spider. Or rather, the gigantic vessel that looked> like one. The name comes to my tongue like acid reflux: The Loveless>. My self-built prison, and my only hope of escape from this life. There’s the revulsion again, as I remember more. The planet. The drills. Those godawful, squabbling buffoons who call themselves my crew. The helper android, ODD. And the mission.
The mission! Adrenaline surges through me, and I lurch from my bed. The mission! We were mining gold>, for those heartless suits who sent us here to the rotten edge of space. A ton of the wretched stuff, or else they were going to send drones to liquidate us. When I went to sleep, we were way under quota, and our time was almost up. We’ve got to get to work! I’m punching in an emergency broadcast to the crew, when I stop in my tracks. The space clock’s looking a bit funny. In fact, everything’s> looking a bit funny. That’s when Security Officer Crowley wakes up, and things get really weird.