Dissipate into Entropy

--- begin entry ---
Name: Martin Boreman
Biometric Hash: 6594ee5e0a684c7f9459772970daf5e2
Role: Engineering Officer
--- end entry ---

--- begin entry ---
Name: George Blon alteration insipidity impression by travelling reasonable
Biometric Hash: 00b4bdba5987a8ebf9a32c2b67f3bbd2
Role: Medical Officer
--- end entry ---

--- begin entry ---
Name: Harriette Winston
Biometric Hash: 6594ee5e0a684c7f9459772970daf5e2
Role: Captain
--- end entry ---

--- begin ent
Segmentation Fault
(Core Dumped)

"It's been that way since this morning captain", stated a very tired husk of an engineer after sleepless nights of fixing errors. "So we don't even get to the end of the list before catastrophically failing?", replies the older fellow that just woke up. "It would seem so, two of us now have the same biometrics and your name was changed to Harriette", the engineer smiles sheepishly. "You know what Martin? I think that suits me better, leave it that way, try to fix the rest", he can't really ask that of Martin, but he doesn't have a choice. Martin's smile grows into one of understanding and that unexpressed joy one doesn't feel the need to show, but it is there, stronger than the loud ones, "oh, alright. I'll see what I can do, I'm not sure whose hash is whose though". "Let's get everyone to the brige and run through them, then we can write them down on paper or something I guess", just about finishing her sentence Harriette turns to the intercom and calls on the waking crew for they have some work to do.

A few minutes later, everyone gathered on the bridge and Martin entered last, holding his laptop snug against a thick paper notepad. "Alright everyone, news and plans", Harriette's voice rings through the yearning silence, "we currently can't even list the entire crew before encountering so much garbage the program dumps core.". "For the few entries, most names are corrupted, and biometrics are scrambled, which is why I called you here, so we can try and get at least that in order, Martin will record your biometric identifiers onto paper so we can try and piece together that bit of the database should it decay any more.". Harriette turns her gaze to one half-asleep bald woman, "Georgia, what did you find?". The woman shakes her head, not in reaction, just to wake herself up, "I took some of the plating and I wouldn't trust it to withstand a flashlight let alone this level of background radiation, might as well cover our machines with paper. The material has a seal and everything as you said, it is supposed to be manufactured to take this on no problem, it just doesn't.".

Harriette ponders for a moment, "Whoever swindled who out of government funds doesn't really help us now, so in any case, can you do something about it? Is there anything around here you can use?". "I don't think so, but I'll continue thinking and looking", replied a very nervous Georgia. Harriette continues, "No matter, give it your best, anything is better than this, everyone else you can help Martin or Georgia, your call, after getting your biometrics written down. And keep your spirits up."

As Harriette tries to leave the room, the door doesn't open, attempts at logging into a nearby terminal yields only errors. Martin raises his eyes from his paper and frantically opens his laptop, which just flickers and freezes. Rotating in his chair he pivots to a workstation and tries to inspect their records, but the program wouldn't even start properly now. Soon the lights started flickering and the doors opened on their own... then swiftly closed again, before opening and repeating this dance every few seconds almost in rhythm with the flashing lights and the cacophany of grotesque distorted sounds coming from most speakers. The monitors are now displaying pure static, ventilation shutting off, or overheating and catching flame. The small group of space-explorers huddles together as the violet surroundings gnaw at their senses. Martin still tries to do anything to help, but as far as his eyes can see there is only noise.

It might've been hours, but that wouldn't matter, our heroes would stay that way for all eternity or as long as their ship let them, eventually doors to the outside would open, the tender contents of their tiny vessel pouring out into the indifferent emptiness.