Tar

Day 1, Docking Station 2H:

There's a stubborn splinter, deep within the skin of my index finger, and just as large as it is painful. Some of the writing I may do for the next few days will be short and simple, rather dull in nature if my briefing is, for once, entirely accurate. The planet I have been stationed on is called Jhard, which is pronounced Jard in the Universal Dialect. Since my deployment, I have noticed one very peculiar place on the otherwise uncolonized world: The walls of Crater-1. Supposedly, there was a small mining operation done nearly a century ago, but it was abandoned after the operations manager deemed the location "unsafe for further work." A year later, one of the former mining crew members released a statement in a now-blacklisted interview about there being a sealed-off doorway that was found. If I remember correctly, he kept repeating something along the lines of "eerie" and "weird," without providing much specific detail. Since the interview, he has been unreachable, but the Explorer's Guild had a mission posted anyway, and now I am here on a loosely explored world to seek out this eerie door. I will report anything significant I find along the way, and I hope that this turns out to be more interesting than it seems.

Day 4, Crater-1:

While I was skeptical of this mission at first, I couldn’t help but notice that the connection capabilities on my datapad are progressively getting worse as I near the marked location on my map. I should be able to find the doorway based on topographic data provided by the Guild, and some landmarks I memorized, but in the case of information gathering, I may be reduced to just these data entries until I get back to the docking station. It’s not unusual that this happens on worlds that aren't fully explored, and if anything, I’m more excited by the idea of snooping around manually, like my predecessors before me. If only the late Isaac Tamo could see me now, he might give me his very own golden star. My finger is still hurting, but I should be fine to write enough for an initial report. Crater-1 is astonishingly large, and as its name implies, it is quite the gaping hole it was described as by the assignment officer. 

Old machinery is strewn about, half-buried in encroaching soil, and the faint smell of lubricants and mechanical agents surpassed the subtle stench of the flora that had begun to overtake the crater’s otherwise barren landscape. The walls were a dusty brown, with blotches of a blackish goo seeping from its jagged edges, and the ground beneath my plated boots felt loose and squishy. Looking ahead, the mineshaft entrance is clearly visible, with its grey exterior metals and supports, and the bright light of the two beacons that sat on either side of the open entryway. The mineshaft entrance was embedded within the side of the right wall of Crater-1, opposite the export center which was unfortunately a day or two away, on the left wall. The miners here would travel by vehicle, each day, to transport goods from the mine to the export center, for over a year, until their untimely departure. 

From my understanding, this area, while dumbfoundingly large in scope, was nothing more than just a simple mining operation, and yet, as I stood before the entrance to the shaft, with those beaming lights soaring high above my head, I understood that my purpose here was much more exciting than I thought. I wanted this opportunity, more than anything, and I knew there would be something precious here, something worthy of Isaac. There was a chill from the opening, creeping up the groaning metal of the elevator leading down into the depths of Jhard. The former crew member was right, it is absolutely eerie, ominous, and weird, all at once. I took a deep breath, and entered the elevator, searching for a button to the lowest level, which happened to be zero. I watched as the doors barred themselves shut, and a small device extended from a panel by the doorway, requesting confirmation via a blinking green light. I pressed my second thumb down on the button, listening for the resounding click that would let me descend into the mine. 

The elevator ride was cold, but it led me to where I now stood, right before the doorway in question. It is clearly something that they worked towards excavating, as the tools are still here and the chipped pieces of rock surrounding the doorway are fresh. Even the scrapes on the doorway itself suggest that the crew tried to get the door open, via force and heavy machinery. There are more scratches along the walls, but these seem different, not made from anything mechanical, but rather a nail or claw. Over a hundred different species were working here, so it is hard to tell what kind of being this came from, my guess is a Human, or a Hidon, judging by the size of the marking. However, as I look closer, this marking is unnaturally square, almost like it's leading towards something. I can see more of it, leading further along the wall and behind the elevator itself. I will follow up and report later.

Day 5, The Door:

The markings were not made by a creature, but rather a small tool, which I have found embedded into the skull of someone wearing civilian clothes. The person is a Yika, her furry skin is covering some of the wound, yet her splintered eyes are still visible, an expression of shock frozen on her face, the death was unexpected, maybe an accident? Her clothes have rips and tears, and her body is badly bruised, so there is a clear sign of struggle and pre-death trauma. But her hand was leaning against a handle, which was poorly excavated from a formation of a gold-like substance. I already made a note to local authorities, who may or may not receive it, (I can’t tell because of the damn connection), so I figure it’s okay for me to investigate further. I pulled the lever, and the door released a strong gust of air, almost like a shockwave. I thought I lost my datapad in the blast but I’m happy it's still here. Just slightly damaged, a scratch here and there that is fixable with the right tools. Now the door is open, and I have to admit, I am terrified. I’m connecting to the datapad via neural so that I can transmit the rest of the entries more easily. [Neural Connection Established].

[Processing User Data].....

[Opening Direct Channel].....

[Beginning Transmission]

The Neuralink has been connected and I must admit, this is better. My splinter still burns, much more now that I scraped it on the ground during the shockwave. The door is creaking, moving more than one of its sturdiness should be. The metals used here are some of the strongest in transit, yet I’m watching them scrape the ground and succumb to air from below. This drop here from the doorway seems shallow enough to be painless, but I’m trembling at the thought of descending more. There is something wrong here, something dangerous, and I don’t know if I can handle this on my own anymore. This is the side effect of the neural link, having to record all of my thoughts, good and bad, rather than choosing my words. Apples and apples and apples, as the Guild would say. Think of nonsense to fill in the lapse of judgment and coordination. I’m starting to miss them, and the docking station, more so as I stare into this hole. I’ll just have to do it, make the jump without thinking, here I go. Oh no, oh god, I’m falling. I swore this was shallow, oh god I’m gonna die! Please, please, please, I’ve done good. I’ve done so much good, please don’t let me go like this! 

[Neural Connection Disrupted]

“Judging by how much I…fell…there has been a time adjustment of two days. It is now day seven, and…my injuries are…far more severe than I thought they’d be. But I am alive. I lived to tell the tale. I will tell..the tale. I have connected my audio, and I-” [Screeching]. “There’s something here, something loud.” [Metallic scraping, followed by another screech], “I’m getting closer to it, I can hear these noises, I don’t think they’re in my head, but…ah god, I feel it in my whole body. I’m dying, I know I am, I don't think I can make it out.” 

“Please.”

“What? Hello?”

“Please. Please.” 

“I need help! I need assistance, I fell! Hello? I don’t know if I’m hearing that or not. I can’t tell, my vision is blurring. Hello?!”

“Hello!” 

“Is that an echo?”

“Hello?!”

“What the hell is this? Am I losing my mind? The audio, you’ve got some filtering here don’t you?” [Movement] “Yeah, there’s another voice. Who the hell are you?! Could you please answer?” [Movement] “Are you here to hurt me? I don’t…shit, I don’t know…please! Help me! I can't feel my legs anymore!” [Sobbing] “Please? I can’t die like this, I need to go back.” [Loud Screech] “What the fuck is that? I saw it, I saw it move. It’s right fucking there.” [Running footsteps, panting] “I don’t know what that was, I’m running but I can’t see anything. I can’t wipe my eyes because-OH! AHH! GET OFF! GE-” 

[Error Code 77890-B]....

[Recalibrating]........

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!” [Screaming, more screaming, gurgling, metallic screeching]

[Datapad Lost]

[Reprocessing].....

[Datapad Booting]...

“Because it seems like the pad is, oh! It’s back on, we got it. Thank you for the advice. Yeah. Yeah, keep the channel open just in case. The connection here is faulty.”

“There’s a trail over here, looks like blood.” 

“Coming over now!” [Jogging footsteps] “Oh, shit, that’s a lot of blood. How far in?”

“All the way through that tunnel there.”

“Well, at least the hole into it is large, won't have to squeeze.” 

“But is that a good thing?” [Energy cell weapon arming].

“I guess not.” [Energy cell weapon arming] “Where the fuck was this person going? Is it one of those kids again?”

“I really hope not, we already lost one the other day.” 

“What about the Guild member, you remember from last week? He came in looking for the doorway.”

“No, I don’t recall, might’ve been Sorl on duty that day. Hold on, I’ll call in the blood, you take a look further in.” [Footsteps] “Post, this is Officer 384 Wess, reporting from Crater-1’s abandoned mineshaft. The distress call that came in is confirmed positive, identity of potential victim remains unknown, requesting an AU and a pickup crew, there's a lot of blood here.” [Radio chatter] “Copy, searching for the unknown now. Marking this as day one of our dive will report back when we’ve found something.” [Radio chatter]. “Hey, Yuma? Yuma!”

“Yeah! I found more blood!” [Jogging footsteps].

“Bless the saint, what is that?”

“It’s goo, like tar but lighter on the finger. Here, put on your gloves and bag this.” [Crinkling plastic] “Do you smell that?”

“Like a mineral right? Thick and tangy.”

“I’m thinking some sort of scrounger, a quadripedal maybe. It’s clearly grabbed its prey, definitely a hoarder.”

“Or a hunter.” [Plastic crunching] “What the hell is this mess? Why come down here if you’ve seen the body up top?”

“Those Guild members are creeps. They don't give a shit about anything but data.”

“Says the guy who wanted to be one when he retires.” 

“Who says I want to be a Guild member?” 

“Says the guy.”

“You hearing me Wess? I said who says?” 

“I heard you.” [Movement] “Here, put this in your pack, mine has the samples from the Yika, we can differentiate it easier in the lab afterward.” 

“The lab afterward.”

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah, I heard that too, who’s there?” 

“The lab afterward.”

“Why the fuck does it sound like you, Wess?” [Metallic screech] “What the hell is that?” 

“Doesn't sound like a fucking scrounger to me. Fall back, secure this exit.” [Shuffling footsteps, loud metallic bellow] “You see that shit in the walls?” 

“It's like a goddamn snake!” [Energy discharging] “Did you hit it?”

“I don’t know!” 

“Go back!” 

“I’m trying! My feet are stuck in this goddamn-” [Heavy metallic screech, squelching].

“YUMA!” [Energy dissipating] “Fuck! Post, there’s something down here! Yuma is KIA, I repeat, he is KIA! I am returning to the entrance, copy?” [Scrambling footsteps, metallic clanging] “What the fuck is this? That thing was fucking huge. Yuma, what the fuck? What the fuck is that thing?” [Heavy screeching, loud metallic clanging] “Oh shit, I hear it getting closer. How the hell does it move so fast? Post! Post, do you read? Officer down! Requesting immediate extraction!” [Piercing screech, breaking bones] “FUCK! I’ll kill you mother-” [Puncturing skin, screaming, metallic groan]. 

“FUCK! I’ll kill you. FUCK! I’ll kill you. Yuma? Yeah. Yuma? FUCK!” [Ringing, radio chatter, metallic clanging]. “Yuma?” [Radio chatter, loud metallic screech, slithering. Distant Voice] “Yuma?”