<<<<<< AUTOMATIC TRANSCRIPT FOR QEC TRANSMISSION <<<<< I didn't know I could ever feel this hungry. Talia's dead. It's just me now. And this bloody stolen warship. We were so focused on making it past the blockade fleet that we didn't notice the mines lying in wait beyond them. Insidious things. Don't even show up on the sensors. Attach to your hull and inject some random biological horrorshow into the interior. What nutcase would make a thing like that? It makes some kind of psychotic sense to kill a crew in a way that does as little damage to the ship as possible, but outside is hard vacuum: it doesn't take a creative genius to come up with ways to accomplish that. Nah, that'd be too easy. More fun to give us space rabies. Half of my friends went batshit insane and started to chow down on the other half. Talia and I were alone on the bridge when it all started, so survived longer than the others. I was starting to even think we might be in the clear. Neoma station was only one burn and a week away, after all. It seemed doable. But now I've woken to find I've killed Talia and eaten most of her face. So I suppose I'll just sit here, repeating this story over and over, hoping that somebody hears it before trying to board. Because we made that burn. And we're outa fuel. Gotta keep talking. At least until our supply of entangled qubits runs out. <<<<< TRANSMISSION ENDS <<<<<<