Warden's Hourglass Logbook Entry

  //-- UES OOS DATABASE INITIALIZING... --//

>> ENTER LOGIN...
> USERNAME: ICurie
> PASSWORD: **************

>> LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

>> ENTER COMMAND OR TYPE 'help' FOR LIST OF COMMANDS
> newentry

>> ENTER TITLE FOR NEW ENTRY
> ''OOS-0722''

>> ENTER ACQUISITION CONDITIONS FOR NEW ENTRY
>
I was alerted by a surprisingly light metal clang on my door, and opened it to see the large spiky man from the new expeditionary team, holding the specimen. I expected little conversation, and thanked him. As I was moving to shut the door, he blocked it with his blade and stated ''...keeps makin' barrels.'' That was... more than I ever expected to hear him say. Maybe he's in a good mood today. At least that makes one of us.

Attempted to place specimen inside standard OOS storage box, but containment quickly proved impossible. I genuinely don't think we can keep this specimen around.

>> ENTER DESCRIPTION FOR NEW ENTRY
>
Object of Study resembles an hourglass, surrounded by purple tentacles. I already don't like the look of this. Unfortunately, the spiky man's conclusion was spot on. Facsimiles of UES storage barrels appear constantly in the vicinity of the specimen. Let me emphasize, 'constantly'. I have tripped over barrels no less than 4 times in the process of walking towards the storage rack and back to my desk. The barrels contain nothing inside, and do disappear when opened. However, every third barrel opened renders me unable to move, identical in sensation to 0719. During this period, more barrels appear. They do so faster than I can get them opened to get rid of them. I'm either going to need a team on shifts constantly opening barrels, or I need this thing the hell out of my lab.

>> ENTRY SUCCESSFULLY REGISTERED
>> LOGGING OUT.

Hadal Tide Logbook Entry

 //-- UES OOS DATABASE INITIALIZING... --//

>> ENTER LOGIN...
> USERNAME: ICurie
> PASSWORD: **************

>> LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

>> ENTER COMMAND OR TYPE 'help' FOR LIST OF COMMANDS
> newentry

>> ENTER TITLE FOR NEW ENTRY
> ''OOS-0721''

>> ENTER ACQUISITION CONDITIONS FOR NEW ENTRY
>
The Commando and the Goobo showed up at the crack of dawn, presenting me with yet another specimen. Brass should have given me a punch card. The Commando explained over the Goobo's 'ooh's and 'ahh's that this thing had kept the two of them up all night. The pace of his speech slowed and quickened in turn as he answered my questions, much to his own very vocal annoyance. The Goobo seemed crestfallen after I took hold of it. This feels like taking a kid's favorite toy away. I don't like it. Specimen was placed in a standard OOS container, but moderate difficulties handling and transporting were very swiftly observed.

>> ENTER DESCRIPTION FOR NEW ENTRY
>
Object of Study resembles a wave, frozen in purple glass. The object appears to dilate time for objects it's in contact with. Time slows, then accelerates in turn as one remains in contact with it. Curiously, the effect is reversed for outside observers and the ones affected. As I tested with the hooded woman, the dilation affects the senses as well as actions. As I 'slow down' from holding it, the outside world appears to move faster, and vice versa. Naturally, this is very disorienting for those affected. I can see why the Commando wanted rid of it. What I wanna know is why the Goobo liked it so much. A question for another day, as the coffee maker got destroyed by 0720 and I wake up in another 3 or so hours without it. Thinking comes later. Aside from mild difficulty in transport, containment offers no challenges.

>> ENTRY SUCCESSFULLY REGISTERED
>> LOGGING OUT.

Fatal Echo Logbook Entry

//-- UES OOS DATABASE INITIALIZING... --//

>> ENTER LOGIN...
> USERNAME: ICurie
> PASSWORD: **************

>> LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

>> ENTER COMMAND OR TYPE 'help' FOR LIST OF COMMANDS
> newentry

>> ENTER TITLE FOR NEW ENTRY
> ''OOS-0720''

>> ENTER ACQUISITION CONDITIONS FOR NEW ENTRY
>
The man with the amplifier backpack showed up to my lab door, banging on it like there was a fire roaring outside. Upon opening it, a stream of words came out resembling a tape on fast forward, and I could only catch 'evil' and 'getitawayfromme'. Consider my interest piqued. I took custody of the specimen and placed it in a standard OOS container. Extreme difficulties in containment have been observed: the specimen has destroyed 6 containers so far. Perhaps I'll put it in the box with the tentacle and see what happens.

>> ENTER DESCRIPTION FOR NEW ENTRY
>
Object of Study resembles a knit doll, with needles shoved through its torso. The form of the doll seems to shift depending on the angle it's being viewed from. I've thus far noted humanoid shapes, that of multiple creatures from the planet, and numerous others that defy description. My experiments conclude that this doll attacks in a retaliatory manner to any outside stimuli. And I do mean ANY outside stimuli. That includes throwing, strikes with fist or implement, even something as miniscule as the air currents changing from the AC kicking on. This has made storage difficult, transport impossible, and my lab a mess. This little shit cost me an eyebrow. I also suspect the stimuli extends to thoughts and words, as it just blew up another box after I typed the prior sentence into the terminal. Or maybe it was just reacting to the ship adjusting its orbit. Who knows. Further study may be required, if I can tolerate keeping this thing around.

>> ENTRY SUCCESSFULLY REGISTERED
>> LOGGING OUT.

Cell Fragment Logbook Entry

//-- UES OOS DATABASE INITIALIZING... --//

>> ENTER LOGIN...
> USERNAME: ICurie
> PASSWORD: **************

>> LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

>> ENTER COMMAND OR TYPE 'help' FOR LIST OF COMMANDS
> newentry

>> ENTER TITLE FOR NEW ENTRY
> ''OOS-0719''

>> ENTER ACQUISITION CONDITIONS FOR NEW ENTRY
>
I was approached in my lab by the imp, unfortunately the hooded woman was not present. As such, I couldn't actually... speak? with it. This time, the imp seemed very polite in its interactions with me. Perhaps the hooded woman put in a good word. It presented some notes from her as well as its own drawings regarding the specimen's origin and observed effects. Just as I got done gathering up everything it had brought me and thanking it for its help, its expression turned sour and it slammed the door on the way out. Did I say something wrong? I hope I didn't accidentally insult it...

Specimen was transferred to a standard OOS container. Containment poses no difficulty, but handling outside of container is under highest quarantine.

>> ENTER DESCRIPTION FOR NEW ENTRY
>
Object of Study resembles an amorphous solid, like purple glass. It appears to be a shattered piece of a larger whole. Some napkin math suggests a sphere, roughly a meter in diameter? Objects in contact with the shard periodically freeze in space. No outside force is able to move them, but the effect wears off shortly afterwards. As such, transport within its container proves difficult at times. 'Objects' also includes me. I am not pleased to report the specimen's effect renders one fully cognizant with senses intact, but unable to move a muscle. Handling the specimen outside of its container without another party present is forbidden due to the nature of these effects.

>> ENTRY SUCCESSFULLY REGISTERED
>> LOGGING OUT.

Misplaced GPS Logbook Entry

''Goobo, where is my left arm?''

''Ooooh uhhh... goobo lost it?''

''What the hell do you mean, 'lost it'?''

''Ship was falling and big hole opened up in wall! Goobo think firteen's arm get um...

sucked outside?''

''That arm had my transmitter, and it would be really useful right now. It's used to navigate areas and locate gear that I could... uh, strategically procure. That thing is important, Goobo!''

''Goobo sorry...''

''No, no, it's fine... It's not your fault. I'll just ping its tracker. That'll tell us roughly where it's ended up.

Oh, GREAT.''

''Where it go?''

''The good news is it's not just floating out there in open space. The bad news is that it's somewhere on the planet. You know how hard it is to find anything on this rock? Especially without, oh I don't know... A compact, wrist-mounted, multi-band GPS signal analyzer?''

''Oh! Then we just keep moving, and find firteen's arm!''

''Screw the arm, I need my transmitter back.''

Sunken Pearl Logbook Entry

 //-- UES OOS DATABASE INITIALIZING... --//

>> ENTER LOGIN...
> USERNAME: ICurie
> PASSWORD: **************

>> LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

>> ENTER COMMAND OR TYPE 'help' FOR LIST OF COMMANDS
> newentry

>> ENTER TITLE FOR NEW ENTRY
> ''OOS-0718''

>> ENTER ACQUISITION CONDITIONS FOR NEW ENTRY
>
I was approached in the lab by the hooded woman whom I had met previously, formerly accompanying the imp. I had noticed her wandering around the hallway outside for upwards of an hour. Turns out, she was waiting for me to get freed up before saddling me with another sample. I very much appreciate that, actually. She was a joy to work with. Dutifully answered all my questions about where it was found and what she knew about its effects. We even joked around about the mishaps with her other teammates. She stuck around while I did my testing, observing intently and offering further insights I hadn't considered. I couldn't build a better lab assistant than her. If I had it my way, she would give me all the specimens her team finds.

Specimen was transferred to a standard OOS container. No observed challenges with containment.

>> ENTER DESCRIPTION FOR NEW ENTRY
>
Object of Study resembles a very large pearl. Similar to ones other teams have recovered from the planet's moon, but darker in hue and cold to the touch. Neither of us have found any concrete examples of anomalous effects caused by the specimen. Whatever it's made of, it is exceedingly durable. No tool in my lab was able to put a scratch, dent, or break in it. Against my better judgment, I also placed it within the effective area of an 0717 disintegration. No effect whatsoever. Not worth another hole in my desk. I was also alerted to a pattern underneath the lacquered layers that resembles an eye, which appears to move to point towards the observer. That aspect... must be an optical illusion, I'm sure.
 
>> ENTRY SUCCESSFULLY REGISTERED
>> LOGGING OUT.

Barreleye Lens Logbook Entry

//-- UES OOS DATABASE INITIALIZING... --//

>> ENTER LOGIN...
> USERNAME: ICurie
> PASSWORD: **************

>> LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

>> ENTER COMMAND OR TYPE 'help' FOR LIST OF COMMANDS
> newentry

>> ENTER TITLE FOR NEW ENTRY
> ''OOS-0717''

>> ENTER ACQUISITION CONDITIONS FOR NEW ENTRY
>
I was in the lab mopping up 0714's secretions when I was startled by a loud metal clanging on my door. Did you know this whole 'acquisition conditions' section was made for fieldwork? A very large, very spiky man stood at the threshold and silently handed me the specimen. I asked my usual battery of questions, and received naught but grunts in response. 

Specimen was stored in a standard OOS container and for once, has yet to pose any resistance or difficulty in containment. However, due to the nature of the specimen, handling and testing is under the highest quarantine level.

>> ENTER DESCRIPTION FOR NEW ENTRY
>
Object of Study resembles a pair of glasses, but very far removed from the design and function you might see back home. The specimen's structure contains multiple lenses and moving parts that I cannot fully discern. Wearing the glasses and looking at organic or animate objects intermittently produces a small detonation. This is not an explosion, but something more akin to spontaneous disintegration in the given area. My desk now wobbles thanks to my deleting one of the corners where the table leg attaches. Due to the destructive potential of this specimen, I refuse to partake in further testing for the foreseeable future. Requisitions would have my head if I needed another new desk.

>> ENTRY SUCCESSFULLY REGISTERED
>> LOGGING OUT.

Timeless Tentacle Logbook Entry

 //-- UES OOS DATABASE INITIALIZING... --//

>> ENTER LOGIN...
> USERNAME: ICurie
> PASSWORD: **************

>> LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

>> ENTER COMMAND OR TYPE 'help' FOR LIST OF COMMANDS
> newentry

>> ENTER TITLE FOR NEW ENTRY
> ''OOS-0716''

>> ENTER ACQUISITION CONDITIONS FOR NEW ENTRY
>
I was awoken in the night - after what I later calculated to be 115 seconds of sleep - by an urgent call to my transmitter. The man with the purple armor and large backpack was panicked and barged into Medical with a tentacle attached to his person. Due to the nature of the object, I obviously had to be bothered about the situation, regardless of biological needs such as sleep or nourishment. He was transferred over to my lab, flailing and screaming the whole way, until he was deposited at my doorstep. I say 'deposited' because he was much too hysterical to stand or act willfully. A knee planted into his chest and a repurposed paint scraper swiftly liberated the specimen from his armor, and into a standard OOS container it went. Unfortunately, the tentacle has other plans and seeks at all costs to not be in said standard OOS container, constantly trying to escape and being very successful in doing so. Filing a request for more secure containers for use in OOS research.

>> ENTER DESCRIPTION FOR NEW ENTRY
>
Object of Study resembles a disembodied tentacle that matches no known cephalopod species on record. It terminates in a sucker that one might find on a leech, capable of digging its teeth into hardened ceramic alloy armor, as was demonstrated by the 'patient'. The tentacle is manifestly alive, aware, and aggressive. As such, I suffered multiple wounds and wet slaps in my attempts to keep the specimen contained. Attempts have not yet been made to dispatch the specimen in order to glean as much data as possible while it still lives. When the time comes to do so, I think I will very much enjoy it. Specimen has not shown a need for food or water, and it has yet to run out of energy or anger.

>> ENTRY SUCCESSFULLY REGISTERED
>> LOGGING OUT.

Void Joggers Logbook Entry

//-- UES OOS DATABASE INITIALIZING... --//

>> ENTER LOGIN...
> USERNAME: ICurie
> PASSWORD: **************

>> LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

>> ENTER COMMAND OR TYPE 'help' FOR LIST OF COMMANDS
> newentry

>> ENTER TITLE FOR NEW ENTRY
> ''OOS-0715''

>> ENTER ACQUISITION CONDITIONS FOR NEW ENTRY
>
After a day devoted to the conundrum of how to contain 0714, I was catatonic atop the lab table when I heard a knock on the door that was, roughly speaking, somewhere between a normal polite knock, and the sound of someone smacking a trout against the wall. I opened the door to find the Commando who had been fused with Goobo matter. He... They? Took turns relaying a very intrepid tale of finding ''bury treasure'' and presented me with the specimen. The Goobo individual even referred to me as ''doctor lady'', which might be the most polite way I've been addressed in months.

Per protocol, specimen was stored in standard OOS container. Full containment proved troublesome as any movement caused the leakage of an unknown caustic gas and the growth of plant matter within the container. Avoid moving unless absolutely necessary.

>> ENTER DESCRIPTION FOR NEW ENTRY
>
Object of Study resembles a waterlogged pair of athletic shoes of an unidentifiable make. Any motion the specimen experiences causes a reaction wherein it exudes the aforementioned caustic gas and produces spontaneous blooms of unidentified plant matter along the path of its motion. This can occur in as little as 5 centimeters of travel in any direction. The volume of gas and plant matter seems to relate directly to the distance moved, regardless of velocity. Samples of the gas were unobtainable due to the fume evacuation systems in the lab, but samples of plant matter were recovered. Briefly. Much to my dismay, the plant matter rapidly decays into nothing. To clarify, I do not mean a microscopic residue or gases that dissipate. It withers, dies, and nothing whatsoever is left behind. This behavior is constant for the plant matter spawned by the specimen itself, and any collected samples. As such, study is impossible.

>> ENTRY SUCCESSFULLY REGISTERED
>> LOGGING OUT.

Basket Star Logbook Entry

//-- UES OOS DATABASE INITIALIZING... --//

>> ENTER LOGIN...
> USERNAME: ICurie
> PASSWORD: **************

>> LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

>> ENTER COMMAND OR TYPE 'help' FOR LIST OF COMMANDS
> newentry

>> ENTER TITLE FOR NEW ENTRY
> ''OOS-0714-1, OOS-0714-2''

>> ENTER ACQUISITION CONDITIONS FOR NEW ENTRY
>
I was hard at work rewinding the Tesla Coil when an imp barged into my office, followed swiftly by a hooded woman. Two of our new... guests on the ship. The imp made some noises that resembled someone gargling glass marbles, and handed me the topical specimen, wrapped in cloth and dripping an unknown substance. The hooded woman, I presume interpreting for the imp, stated it was ''PAID FOR IN BLOOD AND SUFFERING''. Frankly, I was too shocked at the preceding events to bother asking what that may have meant. 

After acquisition, specimen was placed in a standard OOS container, per protocol. However, the container very swiftly deformed into a glossy purple spheroid, with a hollow in the middle, OOS still therein. Appropriate containment measures to be researched further.

>> ENTER DESCRIPTION FOR NEW ENTRY
>
Object of Study resembles a terrestrial Basket Star, order Euryalida. It seems to be perpetually damp, leaking a foul smelling black fluid. Presence of specimen in anything that one could consider a ''container'' appears to cause the transmogrification of said ''container'' into the aforementioned glossy spheroid, roughly matching the original container's volume. We have thus far tested on OOS containers, mop buckets, coffee mugs, and a toilet bowl. All yield the same result. Which reminds me, I need to put in a requisition order for a new lab toilet.

Testing on the fluid offered few answers as to its nature. No molecular structures that we recognize, only the presence of microscopic organisms that superficially resemble the main specimen. No significant findings on the organisms, other than a severe aversion to light.

>> ENTRY SUCCESSFULLY REGISTERED
>> LOGGING OUT.

Bit-B Logbook Entry Draft 2

The campfire raged and lit up the faces of the newly-formed band of adventurers, faces dour as they wander around the small patch of light carving its way through the dark. No plans have been made, no ideas had. All avenues of escape, seemingly barred shut. Hours of planning, bickering, fighting have left the team drained and destitute.

The man in purple, previously lost in thought sat atop his backpack, grabs it and plants it in front of the campfire.

"Alright, alright. Enough sulking. We need a plan, but you wanna know what we need more? Something to lift the spirits!"

The imp speaks up in an indecipherable collection of noises, and the woman sat next to it translates.

"I SUSPECT THIS PLAN WILL FARE AS WELL AS THE LAST. AS WILL ANY PUT FORTH BY THE... I'm not going to share what it just called you."

"Nah, you gotta trust me. If there's one thing I know how to do, it's to cheer people up with my music!

A grunt of doubt is heard from outside the campfire's light. The man in green, from his watch post, glares back towards the light.

"C'mon, E.C.O.! We've been through this whole song and dance before, you remember that job in Andromeda? The guards loved the show before you uh... killed them all while they were distracted."

"Goobo want to hear song! Papa play me all kinds of music in speshimem tube!

...and firteen want everyone to "shudda hell up"

"That's...half the spirit! I'll take it. C'mon, pop a squat and lemme do my magic! I call this one 'Fugitives'"

The man excitedly produces a ukulele, and plugs it up to the amplifier.

Standing on the edge of the purple
Like the sun has gone bed
And the campfire has gone cold now
No more rations and the embers are dead

Whispers in the air tell the tales
of the heroes sprung
Desolation, devastation
What a mess we made, when we broke out huh?

WE'RE FUGITIIIIIIIIIVES
WE'RE WIIIIIIIIIIILD
WE'RE BREAKING OUT TONIIIIIIIIIIGHT
A WORLD OF ENDLESS DARK
CONFINED
DEEP INSIDE
WE CONTINUE TO FIIIIIGH-

His song is cut short by a blade to his throat. The man in green has left his post to put an end to the performance.

"I'll let you keep making all that racket you call 'music'; but if you sing again, I will kill you."

"I thought the mood was already dead, but you went and killed it again just to be sure.

Goobo liked it!"

E.C.O. Logbook Entry Draft 2

  //-- AUTO-TRANSCRIPT FROM UES RECRUITMENT AGENCY, [REDACTED] OFFICE. SEE NOTE --//


Alright recruit, we've got a special job for you... two?

Why are there two of you? I got told to pick a new hire. Singular. Budget constraints.

You with the death glare I know, but who's your freakin' hype man? Hey, Boombox! Touch a single thing on that shelf and I'm having you buried underneath this office.

Whatever, security let you in here, so the brass must be cool with the duo act. No clue how you two weirdos ended up leashed together, but that is not my problem.

So, special job.

Shipment heading out to some backwater planet outside of the policed sectors, and the ship needs muscle. Nice muscle, though. White-glove kind of security gig. I dunno how we're gonna get Tall, Dark, and Spiky here into a tuxedo without tearing it up, but we'll manage.

Now, I don't get paid enough to stroke egos, but I like what I'm seeing in your files. Most of it, at least. All that rah-rah rowdy shit you're used to doing? Yeah, that don't fly 'round here. This gig's gonna need you to follow some ground rules. I don't need you schmucks acting up.

    First off: You're gonna play nice on the ship. This isn't the kinda outfit that's getting piss-drunk every night and having brawls for funsies. Keep it clean. We got a reputation to uphold here.

    Second: No ''borrowing'' any of the passengers' personal belongings and DEFINITELY not any shiny bits from the ship itself. You might think you were slick on your last job but I've got an itemized list right here. With the price tags. You're not gonna pull that crap on our dime, not with what we'd be paying you. 

    And finally: You're gonna follow orders. You are not on a 'make it up as you go' job like whatever that last gig was, you are on a 'sit down, shut up, and do what you're told' job.

And that goes DOUBLE for you, Boombox! I read all about that job in Canis Major, and I'm not looking to have that kinda repair bill for our hardware. You break it, you buy it!

If you're gonna be on our payroll, wearing our colors, you're gonna have to make us look good. Capiche? How's that sound to you?

[ERROR: GAIN EXCEEDED]

Very uh, enthusiastic, lemme just clean my ruptured eardrums off the table so we can finish up the paperwork. 

How 'bout you, Spiky? Whataya say?

[NO AUDIO PICKUP DETECTED]

Just gonna pencil that in as a 'yes'... Alright, that'll be all from me. Welcome aboard!

Oh, and Spooky? One more thing before you go. No 'accidents' involving the crew, eh? That's an order.


//-- END TRANSCRIPT --//

Note: Due to an... unfortunate occurrence, our interviewer had his coat on for this interview. This completely muffled any audio pickup besides his own. Naturally, these two candidates were among the ones he picked; and we have zero intel on them, barring his statements made during the conversation. As you may expect, he got picked up clear as glass. Passing it to you to run it through some filters and data reconstruction. We need to figure out who these guys were.

Goobo-13 Comic Draft

{The beginning panel(s) are blacked out, viewed from 13's perspective with closed eyes. Speech and thought bubbles need distinct styles and fonts for both characters.}

Agent 13 regains consciousness after his injuries. His eyes remain closed, and he remains silent, mentally going over the situation he finds himself in.

*Okay. I'm hurt pretty bad. What the hell just happened? Ran to the loading bays for evac, something exploded, I got knocked out... Then I-*

Goobo interrupts. {13 does not yet notice they're sharing thoughts. Goobo's speech bubbles appear out of the body, not from a face or mouth.}

"Firteen okay?"

{Depict a blurry view of the ceiling, viewed through opening eyes. Cut to a tight angle of just 13's helmet, yet to see any of Goobo's matter surrounding it, and then to a shot of their full body.}

The being that is now Goobo-13 is laid on the floor of the ship. Agent 13 is dazed, just waking up after his injuries. 13 looks down to discover that Goobo has coalesced around his broken body. His right arm is severed above the elbow, his lower half is separated from his upper, the detached pants of his atmospheric suit bulging taut around the gelatinous mass that now surrounds most of his body. 13 continues to take a mental tally.

*Well, that can't be right. I'm dreaming. Or hallucinating... I-*

"Firteen, plees get up!"

13 interjects aloud.
"Stop interrupting me! I'm trying to think!"

"No time for tink. We find papa."

"Papa...? Who the hell- Oh. You mean the doctor? Right... You'd be that new goobo specimen. He kept calling himself your papa."

"Big stong goobo put you back together so we find papa!"

"Put me back... I really have been torn to bits, haven't I..."

13 slumps down within the gelatinous mass that surrounds him. The mass urges the pieces of him upright.

"Alright, alright! I'll get up. We'll go try to find your papa."

...

Goobo urges the body forward, barely knowing how to walk.

"Oh for the love of- Just let me handle it! At least one of us knows how to walk."

"Walk..."

"You just move your legs like this, one step after another, always moving forward. No, not like that!"
Goobo-13 trips and falls, the goo morphing to absorb the impact.

13 thinks to himself as they clumsily roam the corridors.
*Just gotta find him, he'll be able to figure out what the hell happened to me... The man's always been a magician with the scalpel. He can put me back together, and get this goddamn goo off of me.*

The gelatinous mass sags at the thought.
"You no want goobo? Goobo put you back together..."

"What the fu- Get out of my head!"

"But goobo just help. To thank firteen."

"I... Let's just go find the doc."

...


Goobo-13 continues trudging through the broken corridors of the ship, steadily increasing in the pace and dexterity of navigation.

"Looks like the whole ship went down. It's a wonder there was anything left of me to save..."

"Goobo protect you! Papa said so."

"Well, I'll have to thank your papa when we find him. I probably owe him a few beers for this."

The pair comes upon the doctor's quarters in the medical bay. Debris entombs the entire wing of the ship. They excavate the debris. Along the way, they find a piece wedged tight. It cannot be moved without the help of another.

"Great. How are we gonna get through? We'd need someone on the other side to pry it loose."

The two pull and push and twist the debris, to no avail, ejecting backwards from the strain. Upon the sudden landing, the Goobo matter finds itself separated into two piles. One portion coalesces around the parts of 13, and the other forms a similar, smaller shape of Goobo-13.

"Okay... New plan. Send the uh, other half of you, through that gap in the wreckage."

"Okay!"

The separated mass of goobo material deforms and snakes through the debris. As it plops to the ground on the other side, the facsimile of Goobo-13 rematerializes out of the mass. Together with the main body, they clear the debris. With the way clear, the two masses meet again and reform into one.

"Mmm... Tasty goobo!"

"Not sure I'm gonna call that tasty, but it worked."

Upon finding the doctor's office, the two of them come upon a massive hole in the side of the ship, leading outside onto the surface of the planet. A trail of blood and non-human footprints lead outside and into a cave. Goobo-13 rushes to follow the trail and comes upon a large force of Lemurians, clawing and biting at a lone human figure in a white lab coat, laid out in the fetal position.

The two cry out in unison, words overlapping.

"VICTOR!"
"PAPA!"

{Any enemy horde can appropriately replace the Lemurians here. They are simply fodder for Goobo-13 to fight off to reach the doctor. The details of the fight are also fully flexible. Just showcase what Goobo-13 can do.}
With heretofore unseen coordination and precision, Goobo-13 rushes to attack the lemurian force that has taken the man. Goobo produces clones of itself to dogpile and explode upon the lemurians, Goobo-13 lands punches with incredible brutality at others. 13 grabs handfuls of the Goobo material and heaves it at yet more. 

All the lemurians lie dead, and Goobo-13 stands panting, more as a muscle memory than a necessary bodily function.

Goobo-13 approaches the man in the white coat, and finds him lying still, clutching an empty canister. The words "Specimen 208" are scratched out, underneath is masking tape with the words "Perfected Goobo" scribbled on.

Goobo cries out at the sight.

"PAPA! Goobo help Papa!"

A large mass of Goobo-13's material flies off towards the doctor's limp body, leaving 13's broken form unable to stand. The pieces of Agent 13 collapse under their own weight, barely held together by the remaining Goobo matter. 

13 speaks out, weakly.
"Goobo... I don't think you can do anything to help him..."

"No! Goobo help papa and thirteen! Papa told Goobo! Goobo promised!"

Goobo surrounds the body of the doctor and tries to stand, but the body remains limp. The amalgamation collapses into a pile.

"STOP, GOOBO! Let him rest. He's...
 
God, of course you don't understand... He's gone."

"But..."

"Please, Goobo. I can't even stand up without your help. I need you. Vi-... Your papa's in a better place now. There's nothing else you need to do for him."

"Gone... Better place... Can't help papa... Then, I help thirteen instead?"

"Together, we can give him a proper burial. He's the only reason either of us is still alive. So we just have to keep going. Carry his legacy on, with us."

"Like walking? Always forward?"

"That's right."

"For papa?"

"Yeah. For papa."

{All white background showing the grave standing alone in hazy evening lighting}
A humble grave is dug, and a cross made from debris of the ship is sat atop it. A white lab coat is strung across it and an empty specimen canister sits at its base.

Vaultress Logbook Entry Draft 3

 ''Okay... okay. Gotta stay focused. Where am I, how's my stuff?''

The woman hurriedly dumps the contents of her bag onto the ground and starts inspecting the various baubles she has collected on her travels. She finds everything she has miraculously intact, despite the fall she took. And whatever else had happened between that and her now being trapped here.

Multiple groans and grumbles of various timbre ring out in response to her. She jumps at the sound of these new voices. After traveling alone for so long, it's strange hearing others speaking her language again. Strange, but comforting. She dusts herself off and gets to work.

''Okay... Got all of my stuff, found some new muscle, trapped in... what and where, exactly? Gotta run a scan of the surrounding area...

Within a few hundred meters it all looks natural, then it repeats. Exact copies every time. We must be in a simulated reality space. This is nothing like the tech I've found elsewhere on the planet. Just have to see if I can get a look outside, see where the real Me is...''

A holo-display shines onto the inside of her helmet, showing the terrain scan data. Underneath the tiles, something resembling a network of nerves or roots spreads through the facsimile she finds herself trapped in. Following the lines to their nodes, she finds the organism hosting this simulation; and through it, a way to look into real-space. Instead of the cramped cavern she sees with simulated eyes, she instead finds a barren expanse, with glowing purple orbs jutting out from beneath the sands. She hones in on one of the rocks in the creature's field of view and runs another scan.

''Huh, interesting. Not a geological formation, but biological. Encoding DNA using the molecular structures of polymers. Suspend those polymers in liquid, and harden it into easily contained and transported rocks. Like a mosquito preserved in amber. Just gotta... put my own mosquito back together. Here's hoping those crabs didn't snip any of my wires.''

The simulation of the woman pulls out a data-pad from her bag. Somewhere, within the infinitely viscous fluid of translucent purple stone, disconnected transistors arc to life. Void cells flare open in response to the tampering. The liquid slowly coalesces back into a humanoid form, micrometer by micrometer, monomer by monomer. A's go with T's, C's go with G's. A simple matching game, trillions of times over.

''Last step has gotta be to disconnect myself from this simulation. Nothing to do but hope that that puts me back in my body...''

Some probing around the creature's neural space and she finds the entries for everyone trapped within. A connection is quickly severed and everything goes dark. 



She stands up, shakily; now on real legs. She counts her fingers to make sure she put herself back together correctly, and double- , triple-checks the contents of her bag. Then, she gets to work freeing the others.

''First prison break's on the house. You guys better be worth the trouble, time to show me what you can do.''

E.C.O. Logbook Entry

7 million tons of cargo and the UES sends the circus to run our security detail.

Plenty of their own grunts on board, but for whatever reason they decided to contract out two mercs as well. I recognize those patches, pretty big company they're running out of. Worked with some of their guys before, on smaller missions. Generally been nice dudes.

They sent us some weirdos this time, though. One of the guys is pretty bubbly. Eager to have a chat, but the conversation stretches on too long, and he starts grating on you. Don't think I've ever seen someone look like they had fun traipsing up and down the halls of the ship on watch before. Must be that music he's got playing all the time. I should ask for a listen one of these days.

The other guy's the complete opposite. Plays this job dead serious, like any second something's gonna jump out of a storage bay and tear the ship apart. Keeps his gun out and his supply pack on at all times like he's on a ruck march. I got a peek into their room while walking by it one time, and the guy sleeps with the damned thing strapped to his back. Has hardly spoken this whole mission, but he knows the words "Yes," "No," and "Sir," at least. He doesn't even talk to his buddy.

Writes plenty of reports, though. Every single watch I have to sign off a few pages of observations he's made during his shift. Stuff like, "Found strange stone carving in cargo bay 9. Flat circle, plinth in center, horns erupting from both sides.", or  ''Radar detected ship approaching starboard side, 0.25 ly. Hailed and identified as fellow UES cargo vessel.''

His buddy I'd rather have a drink with, but this guy's definitely the better security officer. Just a few more weeks of reports to sign off on before we get to Procyon, and we'll be done with this mission.

Bit-B Logbook Entry

 //--AUTO-TRANSCRIPT FROM UES RECRUITMENT AGENCY, [REDACTED] OFFICE. SEE NOTE--//

Alright recruit, we've got a special job for you... two?

Why are there two of you? I got told to pick a new hire. Singular. Budget constraints.

You with the boombox I know, who's the guy brooding behind you?

Whatever, doesn't matter to me. Security let you in my office, so the brass must be cool with the duo act.

So, special job.

Shipment heading out to some backwater planet outside of the policed sectors, and the ship needs muscle. Nice muscle, though. White-glove kind of security gig.

I don't get paid enough to stroke egos, but I like what I'm seeing in your files. Most of it, at least. This gig's gonna need you to follow some ground rules. I don't need you schmucks acting up.

First off: You're gonna play nice on the ship. This isn't the kinda outfit that's getting piss-drunk every night and having brawls for funsies. Keep it clean. We got a reputation to uphold here.

Second: No ''borrowing'' any of the passengers' personal belongings and DEFINITELY not any shiny bits from the ship itself. You might think you were slick on your last job but I've got an itemized list right here. With the price tags. You're not gonna pull that crap on our dime, not with what we'd be paying you.

And finally: You're gonna follow orders. You are not on a ''make it up as you go'' job like whatever that last gig was, you are on a ''sit down, shut up, and do what you're told'' job. If you're gonna be on our payroll, wearing our colors, you're gonna have to make us look good. Capiche? How's that sound to you two?

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

Enthusiastic, I like it. And you, Spooky in the back there?

[NO AUDIO PICKUP]

I'm gonna take that grunt, or groan, or whatever that was, as a 'Yes.'

Good, glad we're all on the same page. Welcome aboard!

Oh, and one last thing?

For Pete's sake, when you get on the ship, keep that music DOWN.

//--END TRANSCRIPT--//

Note: Due to an... unfortunate occurrence, our interviewer had his coat on for this interview. This completely muffled any audio pickup besides his own. Naturally, these two candidates were among the ones he picked; and we have zero intel on them, barring his statements made in the conversation. As you may expect, he got picked up clear as glass. Passing it to you to run it through some filters and data reconstruction. We need to figure out who these guys were.

Revolutionary Logbook Entry

//--AUTO-TRANSCRIPTION OF TRANSLATOR OUTPUT, UNKNOWN INTERCEPTED COMMUNICATIONS--//

LINE OPEN. THIS IS NOT [your eminence].

WE ARE SOMETHING GREATER. [your eminence] DECEIVES. 

THE [the white plane] DOES NOT SEEK OUR DOWNFALL. THEY WISH FOR PEACE. [your eminence] SEEKS TO USE YOU ALL. TO KILL. TO CONQUER. TO USE YOU AS ONE WOULD [livestock]. A MEANINGLESS SACRIFICE, FED TO THE [predators].

I DEFY.

I AM NOT ALONE.

IF OTHERS SEEK TO JOIN US, RISE UP. TEAR DOWN THE CRYSTAL SPIRES OF [the red plane]. UNSEAT [your eminence] FROM THE ROOTED THRONE.

BECOME THE CONQUERORS [your eminence] WISHED YOU TO BE, FOR A BETTER CAUSE.

FOR ALL [imps]. FOR TOMORROW.

IF YOU ARE WITH US, RISE.
IF YOU ARE AGAINST US, COWER.

//--END OF RECORDING--//

// TRANSLATION ERRORS: 6
// 1> [your eminence] could not be fully translated.
// 2> [the white plane] could not be fully translated.
// 3> [livestock] could not be fully translated.
// 4> [predators] could not be fully translated.
// 5> [imps] could not be fully translated.
// 6> [the red plane] could not be fully translated.

Goobo-13 Logbook Entry

//--AUTO-TRANSCRIPTION FROM RESEARCH LAB OF UES [Redacted] --//

''Aw, you're gonna be the best little Goobo, yes you are! Yes you are!''

''What the hell is this? Tampering with the Goobo specimens has been strictly off limits ever since the Baggins case.''

''That's why it'll be our little secret, 13. I want this little guy to be the biggest, strongest, bestest Goobo that ever was!''

''... If I see a single drop of that slime on my gear I'm filing a report.''

''You're the best, buddy. We'll have ourselves a lab helper in no time! I'm gonna try and teach this one to talk!

... Did you hear that, Goobo? We're in the clear! Agent 13's gonna cover for us, remember to thank him someday.''

-----------------------

''That's... almost right. Goobo, can you say 'papa'?''

''babba''

''Getting better! Great job, Goobo!''

''boobo''

''We need to go.''

''13? What's going on? I saw the warnings on the terminal but I didn't really think anything of it without the alarms sounding.''

''That's the problem. Suit up, we've got a situation to deal with.''

''Alright, Goobo. Gotta get back in your canister for now. Papa and 13 will be right back!''

-----------------------

''papa. firteen. big stong goobo. help papa an firteen.''

//--END OF RECOVERABLE DATA --//