Official Document_Mission Briefing for The Company_Designation: CLASSIFIED: RE | Margot’s Fever. ORD NO. 200076317 – FAA
After the events during the launch of Margot’s Fever and it’s alleged subsequent ten year absence [Captain’s Psych evaluation attached in Appendix Sec. 29] we have determined that there was merely an unknown error type during the ships jump to safety after the initial destruction of the observation decks and the shearing off of the starboard thruster housing. The following excerpts are from the various in person interrogations The Company investigators conducted on behalf of the Torus station security council, joint chiefs and the entire board of directors.
Lt. Jenji Tashimoto: Engineering
“I’m not denying anything, sir. It’s only that the events didn’t unfold exactly like that sir. Yes sir. I understand I’m under oath. All I’m saying is, is that those reports you are quoting aren’t one hundred percent accurate. That is all I am saying. I am not calling you a liar. No, No I’m not. Listen ok, I was there alright. Look at my fucking biometrics ok, just fucking read them. We’ve all aged ten years… Ok. It wasn’t mass hysteria, it wasn’t a hoax, we blew the leaders of the [REDACTED] out the god damned air locks, ok. We fucking ate a full two thirds of the [REDACTED] because there was no way we could have known how long the jump using the [REDACTED] engines would take. the math was off… I’m telling you the truth! Just look at the biometrics data…, let go of me… No don’t you dare put that shit in my veins…”
Although some of the stories vary a little bit, the call to check the biometrics data is a popular refrain among the two hundred souls who reappeared after the failed jump by Margot’s Fever. Lt. Tashimoto came very highly recommended for his position in engineering. Although he now seems agitated and to suffer from a severe case of PTSD. His manner was confrontational, and we were forced on more than eleven occasions to subdue him with Thorazine, and later on, Fentanyl derivatives. He was adamant about the time span too. Although the on station sensors only registered their disappearance over the course of less than one half second.
Col. James O’Brien: Medical
“The captain is a good man. Given the circumstances, and the data sets we had he made a judgment call. I know how that goes. You’re looking for a scapegoat, a way to tie this up with a clean little bow, and hang it around his god damned neck. Listen… I didn’t agree with it, but his assessment of the situation was sound. But have you not checked the [REDACTED] scans, we’re all ten fucking years [REDACTED]. Many of those who survived are showing serious signs of malnourishment. That doesn’t happen over a half a second trip, or if you skip your fucking breakfast. He told you. He told you outright that he did not want to captain that ship, and you sent him anyway. No, he didn’t show signs of being suicidal, or of a predisposition towards murderous rage. He was a hard nose captain, who ran a tight ship and could get things done. It was a traumatic event, no wonder he’s showing signs of psychosis. We had a mutiny to deal with. Jesus fucking Christ guys, aren’t you listening to me. We ATE members of the crew! We ate friends, colleagues, mentors, everyone who couldn’t cut it over the [REDACTED] gap, those who fought to turn around and jump back, when we thought we’d [REDACTED]…
The remaining medical staff from Margot’s Fever all parrot the same thing, there was a mutiny, they had to kill the leaders of the challenge group, who wanted to turn around and come home. Many of them junior members of the crew. Those who didn’t realize they were traveling trillions of miles in an instant with no hope of returning home to the same time frame they left. Relativity has eluded these select few. Though none lived to return in order to give us there side of the mutiny. we only have the resources provided to us by The Company, regarding personal notes, video logs and such to go in in making our recommendations.
Lt. Juniper Brash: Navigation
“He told us that we’d gone into the sixth dimension. That we never traveled forwards at all, we just sort of dissolved out of our reality, or existence or what have you, and wound up some billions of years in the future as the universe itself was ending. We saw the last handful of stars before they too winked out. Just empty blackness. Ten years of looking at nothing. No light beyond our own ship board fixtures. No stimulus, nothing on the sensor arrays, nowhere to navigate to or from. He told us, he… he told us that the ships AI [Refer to Captain’s Psych Eval*] told him, after ten years of compiling data, or counting one’s and zero’s as he was want to say, that it was finally time to jump back to where we thought the earth would be. Listen I am telling you, that under no uncertain terms, this ship does not have an AI on board. The only items that you could even possible say had any sort of intelligence are the hull repair drones, and a tiny fraction of the cleaning bots. But their programming only helps them to not get stuck under doors, or tables, and how to recognize damage to the hull’s shielding and environmental protection. It’s just insane. He told us he was talking to a grey metal box full of pink goo kept in a storage room on the engineering decks, and it straight up talked to him, via the ships intercom. That’s fucking nuts, the guy is in-fucking-sane. Sir.”
We have reason to believe that we’ve got enough anecdotal eye witness accounts of the Captain, to place him under protective custody and have him removed to a soft location out beyond Charon. The penal colony there won’t recognize him, and he can undergo the therapy he requires to live a long and prosperous life. Other such similar recommendations are being discussed for all other surviving members of Margot’s Fever crew. Those that confessed to murdering and eating the rest of the crew may be quietly euthanized in transit. And disposed of during course corrections. No physical evidence shall be made available to anyone. Discretion is advised. Code level : Zulu Alpha Prometheus.
It has come down from the top brass that any and all data pertaining to the event is to be purged, or moved off sight to our non disclosed silent operations out beyond UB313. However the security guys have requested data on the Fabric of Reality Engine. They want the data sets from any operations system wide diagnostics that may have been run during transit, and the flight plan, the navigational data. Basically everything about the ship, except data regarding the crew, or their personal logs. Although any entries originating from the bridge, engineering decks, or the sensor arrays will be transferred to them as well.
Official Document_Mission Briefing for The Company_Designation: CLASSIFIED: RE | Margot’s Fever. ORD NO. 200076318 – FAA_Continued
…How can there be this much data in the black boxes. They must have been corrupted. There are millions of terabytes of information in here. The sensors and antenna array data is off the fucking charts. They are recording Gamma bursts from detonating neutron stars for fuck’s sake… The coordinates are bonkers… The data is so complex, it’s not even relevant to three, four or even five dimensions. I think they went to the sixth fucking dimension… I believe that they managed to time travel. Or shift, no phase is a better term, they phased back just milliseconds before they left. The time loop, theorys regarding fate and free will, the theoretics on this will make someone an absolute fortune… It’ll take us decades to cover all the data here. Then we’ll have to parse it all for errors, corruption in the data, or sensor malfunctions… Whatever happened here, it was not what the simulations and math predicted… Glad it didn’t really. If it had, the entire solar system would have compressed down into a black hole and killed all eight billion of us, once they kicked off those experimental engines…
Black Sight: UB313 Research Base
From the limited amount of data given to us, we think that by all accounts the engines worked, just not how we had originally planned. We think what happened was that the trip was not instantaneous, at least not how we humans perceive it. Even light takes years to travel vast distances. From the incomplete data sets made available to us we believe that they got spooked in the blankness of transit, and that they panicked. That would explain some of the blankness in the sensor data. Perhaps the excess of gamma radiation was shielding stars from the ships view. They then made the jump back so quickly that they damn near landed on themselves as they were just about to jump out. We haven’t worked out the temporal science yet. The math guys are trying to work it out now as there is talk of phasing or resolving back into our time space [sic.]. Once the off sight guys review the data, they think they can figure it out fairly quickly. It was a less than one half second jump, so there won’t be too much extraneous data to parse. We have been given no data regarding the crew of the ship, so we have no new information or insight to give there. We would kill for the opportunity to interrogate even just a handful of the two thousand members of crew. We suggest that you commandeer Margot’s fever, send it out to us here, and let us test drive the engines for further insight.
Official Document_Mission Briefing for The Company_Designation: CLASSIFIED: RE | Margot’s Fever. ORD NO. 200076689 – FAA_Continued
Absolutely not. The ship has been decommissioned, and the program jettisoned from the university archives, and all knowledge therein has been purged, in unofficial terms.
Torus Station : Two years after the events of Margot’s Fever.
Inside the media screening suite, sits the HR director Ms. Taylor. She is surrounded by members of the security council, joint chiefs of staff and the full board of directors. The room is quite cramped with all those orange jumpsuits, and their attendant staff. The room smells of rich cologne, Bourbon and some cigar smoke. The walls are painted a mixture of dark green, yellow, red and a rich burgundy. Ms. Taylor has to be conscious of where she stands, otherwise she might fade into the scenery behind her. Her crisp, tailored jumpsuit, a deep burgundy, with Green, Yellow, Red, and Brown arm bands is standing at the head of the table ready to lead the group through vetting The Company’s Official re-enactment of the events that will be released to the masses. “Thank you for joining us here today ladies and gentlemen.” A sweeping arm wave, a gesture of welcoming and of a collaborative tone. Ms. Taylor looks to be about twenty years of age, though she is far older than that. The counterparts in the room are all in their seventies, and are too far gone for the rejuvenation treatments she frequents. She caught that train right on time. The lights in the room go dim, and the movie flashes up on screen.
“So what do you think?” announces the most junior member of the board of directors. Looking around the room Ms Taylor pipes up. “I think that this fictional recounting of those events is a travesty, a total miscarriage of justice. Like a prolapsed anus, that script is both painful and messy. It skips over so much, and portrays that captain as a loon right from the get go. If I know my people, and I know them well, a good portion will hate this. Hate. It. But for the masses, it’s perfect.” with a clap of her hands, the room breaks up and everyone filters out and back to their living quarters.
The rebuild has been tough for everyone over the last two years. The last thing HR Director Taylor wants is to fuel the conspiracies, and set some growing agitation alight. She would have preferred that they answer a few of the tougher questions surrounding the events, and the disappearance of the crew, but she didn’t produce this film, and it’s not her place to edit it. Just vet it with an eye towards morale, and the new normal aboard the torus station. Her inability to know more chafes at her neck. Perhaps a visit down to the Sanitation department might provide some much needed answers. Seeing as how she has had them under her purview for more than two years now, a visit down below might actually be in order. Calling up a display inside the media suite, in the dim lights, she waits while the pinging noise from her wrist biometrics chimes softly in the empty room.
PART XVI
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