Sometimes I feel that I live in some science fiction piece. It isn't the fact that I work for a top secret international project. It isn't the fact I work on a space station. It isn't even the fact that we've confirmed there's a Neumman probe in our system. It's the fact that when I squint at the frame-unifier, it kinda looks like a Stargate.

Ridiculous, I know. But when your job is to go through that thing and establish whether an alien planet is capable of hosting human life before it's too late, you kinda feel like Samantha Carter mixed with (girl from fimfic).

Life's funny like that.

Of course, Sam never had to deal with actually staying on the aformentioned planet for any real length of time. That's why I'm writing this you know; to give the shrinks something to work with in case I go nuts from whatever's on the other side of the bridge. I don't blame them. I have no illusion that EC-13 is some sort of paradise.

EC is short for Evacuation Candidate, you know. What the previous twelve did to the other away teams wasn't pretty. Radiation bursts, decaying rings, paper-thin crust, tidal stresses, super-rotating atmosphere, another Neumman probe, monster tides, diamond dust-laden air, Einstein-knows-what, dying star, rouge black hole, another damned probe - The universe is a cruel bitch when you're working as hard as you can to run away from Cthulu's little brother.

It didn't help that we were going to EC-/13/. It's very likely I'm going to die a horrific death like all the personel in the away teams before me, but nothing ventured, nothing gained - right? Besides, onboard this station, you're not exactly allowed to be depressed. I'm surprised I don't have an alergy to lithium and banannas at this point.

I suppose that's enough rambling for the shrinks to know I'm a perfectly healthy individual, not at all on the verge of going mad.

END MISSION LOG 001 - LT. ALICE JENNINGS