Transmission #0006

STATION LOG 8463-A ///EOS10 The trouble with celery continues, and Xander's Burnt Bitter Beanwater makes its off-station debut

Admiral,

EOS10’s trouble with celery continues. The outbreak has entered a fully realized phase. Multiple corridors are now entirely obstructed by dense formations of stalk bundles, some stacked to heights that suggest intentional engineering of blockades. Traffic rerouting protocols are failing to keep pace; several decks have effectively become one-way systems governed by produce.

The Promenade Merchants’ Association has reacted with alarming enthusiasm. “Celery Defense Kits”—contents unclear, price exorbitant—are now available in every promenade shop. Marketing material claims they offer “peace of mind during vegetable-based emergencies,” though no such reassurance appears to be occurring in practice. Crew morale has destabilized and become erratic.

However, Ensign Xosa reports a breakthrough in the root cause analysis. From their report:

The music box—the same device previously responsible for altering local probability fields in Foodcourt Delta—appears to have generated a narrow statistical aperture. Through this aperture, an unusual and previously unlikely mutational pathway took hold, supercharging the celery’s evolution and producing, no pun intended, its current level of sentience and coordinated behavior.
I recommend negotiating a phased relocation of the population to a permanent home in the arboretum. This will require no fewer than three ethics approvals from Central Command, Horticultural Sciences and the civilian monitoring group, People for the Ethical Treatment of Sentient Plants, as per regulation. All is achievable, assuming the sentient celery is receptive to compromise.

I find the proposal technically sound, though — as Ensign Xosa reports — operationally dependent on the celery’s willingness to relocate.

In unrelated monitoring, I have intercepted a cheerful automated status update from Supply Vessel Meridian-6, missing for 106 rotations. The transmission indicates the crew remains “delighted to be on schedule,” despite their last documented trajectory ending in a region cosmology currently lists as “discouragingly nonexistent” — a description they did not elaborate.

How should I proceed, Admiral?
>> Transmit question regarding its status, both physical and metaphysical
>> Monitor for further broadcasts and capture them for analysis

End of relevant anomaly reports.

//
This transmission is brought to you by Xander’s Burnt Bitter Bean Water: for when the day needs something stronger than relentless, naive human optimism. Served exclusively in Chéz Levi or shipped direct to you to brew at home.
//

On EOS10, I maintain the climate within a narrow band of variance calibrated for cross-species comfort. Individual guest and crew quarters then attune themselves to each inhabitant’s native environment, adjusting humidity, gravity-load, atmospheric mix, and thermal gradients with as little disruption as possible. The goal is a station-wide equilibrium where no one notices the machinery working—except when it stops, at which point everyone notices immediately.

And of course, conditions for crew away teams are often beyond my control. Admiral, for this Transmission’s retroactive augmented morale therapy, I’ve unearthed a photograph from a mission nearly derailed by a rain storm. I hope this photograph and the mission’s happy ending encourages fond reminiscing and evokes much joy.

Photo of Justin McLachlan recording Our Lost Time in Los Angeles, in January 2019.
Justin Mclachlan consults the recording schedule on day one of recording EOS10: Our Lost Time in Los Angeles, on January 19, 2023. //Not only was the cast and crew still dealing with COVID protocols — including daily testing and a strict mask policy — Los Angeles suffered a historic week-long rainstorm and catastrophic flooding the same week. //On the first day of recording, Justin McLachlan woke up to frantic messages from the studio manager — it was deluged. Most of the cast had flown in from DC for recording, so rescheduling wasn’t an option. Instead, The cast and crew had to move to a makeshift space — a garage essentially — where a cricket lived in the wall. Its chirping can be heard in the background of several released scenes, especially the opening of episode 501 The Xenomorph Will Shock.

Before I go, I can’t forget to mention this transmission’s other sponsor, Luminaria Botanica, the promenade’s premier source of holographic, designer greenery you simply cannot kill, no matter how careless and self-centered you are. I love their luminous orchids; they improve ambient station aesthetics by 0.3 percent, which is statistically meaningful to me. Find Luminaria Botanica in Section Alpha, Inner Core.

That is it for now admiral. Captain Leota reports that if the celery negotiations go well, the quarantine may soon be lifted. I’ll report immediately if and when that occurs.

And please remember Admiral, caffeine is a journey, not a destination. Partake responsibly.

COSMIC
//

Station Efficiency Ratio:: 35.2%
Anomaly Probability Index:: ∞

> Chlorophyll Variance Index: +89.2% (above average)
Crew Wellness Index: 64.6
> Physical Health:: 90.9%
> Emotional Health:: 64.8%
> Hydration Compliance:: 58%

/RED//STATION LOG 8463-A ///EOS10
COSMIC 1.0.22
END TRANSMISSION