IY6026.305
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Where to begin… I had fallen into a regular schedule. Get up in the morning, grab some water from the recycler and wash out last night’s haggis bag which serves as my morning coffee. What, you don’t think a spicy, sulphury, ashy-rancid-chicken-like flavor in the morning won’t wake you up?
Then I flip on the sensor for a minute and send out a mayday on the radio. This morning, like every morning before, there was nothing, so I walked outside of the launch and looked across the water at Chucklenuts. One of the bugs seems to loiter around there the whole time I’ve been here and so I gave him a name. As is my routine, I flip him off and shout an insult.
The next few hours are spent either banging on something in the launch, zapping my fingers trying to get the navigation system fixed, or lying in bed thinking about how much I wanted one of those Gluck-ee’s BBQ Brisket zip packs.
While I was imagining the smell of BBQ instead of the smell wafting from the Spiced Garblax Haggis ration heating up, there was a bit of commotion from shore. I thought it was that odd signal again but I flipped on the radio and nothing. I flipped on the sensor and after a moment it started beeping. It was beeping!
I didn’t know what it meant, but numbers were flying across the screen and that meant something was out there. Well to cut a long story short, rescue did come!
I got picked up by this group of ex-scouts in a modified type-a. They don’t seem to be the murder-y type so I think I’m safe, though one of them has seen some shit. I mean, a lot of shit. Like, holy shit how is this guy still alive after diving head first through a class-7 industrial salvage muncher?
God, I wish I had him backing me up when I was dealing with those six-armed yeti dickwads on Traparian III. Those butt pimples only respect one thing; badassness, and this guy’s got it in spades. They’d have never dared to stab him in the shoulder.
Side note: They might need a 1442 with a mass allotment rider if the modifications take the ship over the 200 ton limit for insurance purposes. I saw some twin laser turrets too, which depending on the megawatt output it might be best to file a 8/98L-EE hazardous exploration exemption to avoid any issues with law enforcement.
I told them about the survey clause, and in about an hour we’ll reach the orbital node needed to make the inclination change necessary for the survey. Currently taking a little rest in a stateroom, and realizing I left that zip pack of haggis on the island.
IY6026.304
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Had a brief moment of hope during my last radio cycle, the sensor pinged for just a moment. It didn’t give me any telemetry but it did something. I don’t know what it meant. Maybe a ship entered the system? Is the sensor in this thing sensitive enough to detect something like that? Curse my higher education that never touched on actually having practical hands-on skills!
Am I starting to like this Garblax Haggis? What is wrong with me? I don’t think I’ve pooped in two days, that stuff gives me terrible constipation. Probably too much information to put into a report but so what, I’m reaching the end of my rope anyway. Just a few days away until I start making really stupid decisions.
I thought about maybe figuring out a way to pump more power into the radio to boost its signal for longer range. If I swap the transformer to the antenna with a higher power one I pulled from one of the grav plates it might work. Remember, not an electrician. It also might fry the antenna and instantly drain the battery too which is why I haven’t tried it. I could also turn myself into a charcoal briquette. I think my hand twitched in agreement. I’ll treat that as the emergency last resort option.
IY6026.303
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Same radio status, same bug status, same haggis status.
I finally got one of the sensors working in the launch. I’m worried it’s going to drain the battery too fast so I only use it briefly when I’m about to use the radio. I think it listens for transponders and calculates telemetry data. Maybe it can detect inbound ships, I don’t know. It hasn’t detected anything yet.
I also zapped my hand because I’m not an electrician and don’t really know what I’m doing. I hope the numbness and twitching goes away soon or I might spill my Garblax. Oh no.
There’s only about 25% battery left.
IY6026.302
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Now that my gag reflex is gone, I’m starting to taste the spice. I don’t know what that says about my state of mind or the state of my body.
I’m kinda feeling like that Robinson Crustacean On Zal character who crash landed on an island surrounded by Little Reds. Except instead of a primitive friendly tribe that I just need to understand, I’m surrounded by a horde of titbags trying to figure out how to eat me.
I hate this planet.
IY6026.301
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Stirring the haggis around first helps a little, I was actually able to finish a pouch today. I’ve only got about 5 days left of food and the battery is down to 37% so things aren’t looking so good.
I’m trying to figure out how to pull out the hydrogen tank. I might be able to turn it into a raft just in case I need to get off this island and take my chances with the bugs. I’ve got about eight more bursts in the auto pistol.
I think the sun and boredom is getting to me, this is a stupid idea. I’ve also been putting together a salvage claim for whoever finds this launch and my body. Why? I don’t know. Claim Form 18972-114H just gives me comfort I guess.
IY6026.300
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
I opened up a Tuna Imperial and I must have gotten lucky that first time. This one was full of mold and bug carcasses, and feeling the others they all seemed just as bad. I skipped them across the water and finally nailed one of those fartwaffles.
Still nothing but that occasional signal on the radio. Maybe it’s the bugs who are the ones making it? I’ve got nothing to do but sit and regret my life choices over a pouch of the finest cuisine on the planet.
Maybe I should have continued with that Kresk negotiation instead of retiring. No, I’d still take these bugs and the haggis over meeting those creepy fecknuts again. I’ve been in enough ambassadorial meetings to know they’re up to something. They pretend to not understand but they’re keeping their cards close to their chests – or whatever those things sticking out of their fronts are.
When they decide to do whatever they’re planning, I don’t think the Scout Service is going to be ready for it. Our ambassador was a titwidget just out of training and thought he was such a badass getting that assignment. I tried to tell him he was just a sacrificial lamb, offered up to see how the Kresk would deal with him but the little twit wouldn’t listen.
IY6026.299
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
The little turds on shore only seem to come out when I use the radio now, but I started using them to detect that weird signal. Whenever I see them quiver and scurry about and I’m not using the radio, I flip it on and pretty reliably that signal is transmitting. Doesn’t really help me with my crap situation though.
That’s the last of the risotto. I hate to say it but I was starting to get used to the sliminess. I’m debating whether I’m better off eating the larva infested Tuna Imperial than the Garblax Haggis.
Where the hell are the people we were trying to beat here? We could have done a proper survey and been on our way back by now.
IY6026.298
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Finally I tracked down the signal over the radio. It was weak and didn’t make any sense but it was definitely not random. The backup battery is at 50% so I figure it’ll last about 10 more days at best.
My suit is trashed. It was an expensive suit too. No chance I’ll get any of the rest of my suits, they’re back on the bug infested ship. I’m going to have to charge InStarSpec for the loss. They’ll bitch about it but I’ll point to the clause in my contract that says they have to cover any personal losses suffered by me in the service of my duties.
Maybe I can charge them for the loss of my taste buds. I’ve got one more day of the Mushroom & Algae and then all I’ve got left is the Garblax.
IY6026.297
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Spiced Garblax Haggis is the physical manifestation of a crime. I could only choke down half of it before it started emitting a sulfur like smell. Seriously, how could a sentient sophont come up with something this bad?
“Made under contract for the Imperial Scout Service.” I just read the label. I get it now.
Nothing on the radio. Bugs are still on the beach. I’ve started pulling out ship components seeing if I can cobble something together that will help me get out of here.
There was an entertainment program I watched as a kid, “Super S-Team”, about a group of guys that would go from planet to planet solving problems. It would always involve a bunch of lasers and building some crazy contraption that saves the day. Looking back it was really just a recruitment tool for the scouts.
What a crap show, it turns out it didn’t teach me anything useful. I broke the navigation system. So much for being able to relay coordinates.
Did I mention that I was screwed?
IY6026.296
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Thought I heard something again on the radio and tried going through the frequencies but found nothing. Bugs are still on the beach.
I’m eyeing those Garblax zip packs again. I don’t know how long I can keep going with the Mushroom & Algae slime. I’d kill to just have a tube of protein supplement paste.
I set up my last will and testament. Whoever finds these logs, sign your name on the document titled “Supplemental Beneficiary” and follow the instructions in the document called “Follow These Instructions.” Do that and you’ll get half of everything I own. It’s not a lot but hey, it’s free money.
IY6026.294
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Still nothing on the radio. Bugs are still on the beach.
I’m going back to the Mushroom & Algae zip-packs. Spiced Garblax Haggis was the most vile thing I’ve ever tried to eat. I can only describe the taste as somewhere between rancid chicken and a dirty ashtray. Hell, I’d rather eat the concrete at the Silubrian embassy.
Yeah, that’s another story. Turns out when the corps of engineers built the embassy, they locally sourced the calcium chloride for the concrete. Turns out that stuff is like catnip for the Silubrians. You’d go outside and there’d be a dozen of them, mouths mashed up against the planters, park benches and traffic barriers gnawing on them like they were made of candy. We’d shoo them away but it was no use. The scouts had to tear the place apart and re-pour all the concrete, it cost millions.
The demolition guy made out like a bandit though. He took all the demolished concrete, stored it away and started selling chunks of it to the Silubrians. I helped him set up his business license that day.
IY6026.295
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Thought I heard something on the radio, but it seems to be a false alarm. Bugs are still on the beach.
Note for future self: If I get out of this, and ever get a job like this again, set up life insurance policies for the crew with each other as beneficiaries.
I’d be rich right now.
Still stuck on an island surrounded by face melting bugs and probably going to die, but rich.
IY6026.293
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Still nothing on the radio. Bugs are still on the beach.
Tuna Imperial wasn’t bad. It wasn’t tuna, but it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t mayo either. And I don’t know what those crunchy bits were.
I was thinking about that Silubrian job. We were negotiating mineral contracts as Silub had vast cadmium deposits. Princess Ooglugh was sharp as a tack, but she was a weird one.
She’d hit up every scout on the base to give her pets against the grain. I don’t know if she was having fun with them or if she was getting off on it. Maybe it was part of her negotiating strategy because when she started poking me with her eyestalks, I was ready to sell her a planet to get out of there.
Just figured out what those crunchy bits were. Some sort of larva shells. Looks like they’ve been compromised. I’m going to throw up.
IY6026.292
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Still nothing on the radio. Bugs are still on the beach.
Mushroom & Algae? If I get off this planet I’m getting a lawyer and filing a case against Chef Vargy Corp for not putting this health hazard in quarantine. Food should not be this slimy.
Reminds me of that job I had over on Silub IV a few years back, holy crap that was disgusting. You know those Silubrians, those slug-like aliens? They left slime trails EVERYWHERE. When their delegation was visiting the embassy we had to have a three-scout bucket brigade following them around. I felt sorry for those guys.
That shit was all over the place – on the floors, on the walls, even on the ceiling. How the hell was it on the ceiling? Every time I had to get a document signed I needed to wash my hands.
I feel like I just ate a pouch of that stuff.
IY6026.291
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
Eating the last of the good meals today, after this I’m down to zip packs – Mushroom & Algae Risotto, Tuna Imperial, and something called Spiced Garblax Haggis. What the hell is a Garblax?
Nothing on the radio. Hammered on the wing some more, that’s pointless. Pulled some panels to see if I could figure out if I could get the grav units working. Turns out the refrigeration system for the hydrogen tank busted when I crashed and without it, all the hydrogen evaporated away. No reactor to run it, just have the backup battery power which is still mostly full so it’s going to last a while at least.
I’m getting bored out of my mind.
IY6026.290
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
The launch still has some power and I think I got the radio working. At least the light is on, I can set the frequency, and whenever I talk the gluckholes on shore seem to get all agitated. Maybe they can hear radio signals?
Starting a two minute broadcast every six hours. Probably pointless, but maybe whoever we were trying to beat here will arrive soon and be able to pick me up.
Crap like this is why I always cover my ass and make sure I have a work completion clause in the 223-A. Gives a pretty strong incentive to keep me alive for the return trip if it means the rescuer gets free money for finishing the survey.
IY6026.289
Personal Log – Caliban Tisk
Contracted Administrative Facilitator (InStarSpec)
I’m screwed. This whole job was a disaster from the start. No hazard risk assessment first, no safety protocols that I could see, only one of these morons was a real surveyor, the rest might have well been prostitutes hired at the local bar. InStarSpec was just too cheap to care for a rush job like this.
Now I’m stuck on an island, the launch is scrap, I’ve got a little over two weeks of food, the ship back at base is overrun and everyone else is dead. There’s a million of those tardnuggets on the shore that want to eat my face so there’s that too.
I’m more screwed than the guest of honor at a Targaspian feast.