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Personal log: 
Cpl. Miguel Ordóñez
Prison ship San Marcos
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Today just keeps getting weirder. That chunk of rock that showed up on long
range scanners like 2 weeks ago is practically at our front door now. What's so
special about it? We could have just blasted it to bits with the autocannons but
Samuel tells me the boys at astrometrics have been keeping tabs on it all this
time.

Are we getting turned into a science vessel? I sure hope not, I really cannot
stand to lose another job. Please don't let me lose another job, especially not
this one! Not that I particularly like it, but I suppose I don't hate it either.
And if I hadn't been stationed here I wouldn't have met Ramiro either, and I
know they'd keep him around which means we'd never see each other anymore...

I'm rambling, as usual. But it just bugs me, I can't help but feel like there's
something off here. We're a prison ship, we pick up people not random space
rocks that just happened to float by us.
And I know this didn't come from high up or anything like that, I may be an
afterthought to the rest of the crew, but regulations demand even I be kept on
the loop about new orders and I haven't been told anything, so there.

Oh, they're calling me to the cargo bay. I guess we're hauling that thing in
now.
Back to work...

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