SPACE DATE 2236.095
But, unfortunately, things are taking a turn for the worse. The plasma energy cells that we used to create the campfire are sucking up the oxygen supply at a troubling rate. What’s worse, Dr. Rena, Ensign Adams, and most of the female crewmen on board have formed a splinter faction and annexed the cargo bay’s only bathroom in retaliation for the ‘No Girls Allowed’ clubhouse fort that Chief Beauregard and I built out of empty marshmallow crates. Perhaps even worse, we found INFO broken into several pieces just outside the cargo bay this morning and, naturally, the Chief is taking his sweet time putting him back together.
Now, to top it all off, Lt. Jayda has gone missing with the only pressure suit. He was supposed to return from his shift topside two hours ago, and he flatly refuses to answer his communicator. All we can hear now is the crazed, animalistic howling that’s echoing throughout the corridors that started up shortly after we found INFO’s claw-scarred pieces and the garbled warning scrawled on the scrap of paper we found in his printer feed. I’ve become convinced that this is all some elaborate practical joke by Jayda, the cheeky bastard. Does his little prank goes all the way back to the stink ray and even the slavers? I have to say, I’m impressed! I didn’t know that rascal had it in him!