Improper Handling Of Archaeological Materials…
SUBJECT: Another Reminder About Our Priceless Archaeological Materials (Why Is This So Hard?)
FROM: Dr. Gurdy | Research and Culture Advisor
TO: All crew, particularly those who need to hear this the most.
To Whom It May (Apparently Not) Concern,
I must once again address what I can only describe as a catastrophic disregard for the sanctity of archaeological materials aboard this station. As the lead researcher of ancient civilizations, it is my solemn duty to remind everyone that the relics I study are not “knick-knacks,” “funny bowls,” or “conversation pieces.”
They are irreplaceable artifacts, some of which predate our species by entire galactic epochs.
And yet, despite repeated warnings, I have documented the following abuses of cultural history:
Captain Jake was observed using a sacred Pludorian burial urn as an ashtray. When confronted, he claimed it “looked like it wanted a cigar.”
Marla, in her infinite culinary ingenuity, boiled soup inside a ceremonial fertility vessel. The broth was purple. She served it. We all ate it. I will not recover.
Redline thought it “hilarious” to wear a 7,000-year-old crown during poker night. It is now missing three gemstones. He swears the deck was rigged against him.
Smitts propped open a bulkhead door with a fossilized femur from an extinct lunar mammoth. He explained, “It was the perfect shape.”
Professor Chu, during a moment of legendary inspiration (or intoxication), attempted to distill liquor through a sacred filter stone. He announced it “improved the bouquet.” The stone has since dissolved.
Worst of all, someone—and I still do not know who—scribbled “Property of Deck 9 Rec Room” across an artifact tablet in permanent ink. I have spent three sleepless nights trying to remove it.
Artifacts are not toys, tools, or tableware. Each misuse irreparably contaminates our ability to learn from these objects. Civilizations rise and fall, leaving behind fragments. When those fragments are turned into drink coasters, the record of their existence is obliterated.
I would like to remind you of crew member Jenkins incident last year…
Crewmember Jenkins disregarded safety protocol by donning the Helm of Arath, an artifact excavated from the ruins of the K’thari Spiral. Some say this is because he had just eaten three servings of overly fermented algae paste, but that is neither here nor there. Anyway, once placed on his head, the helmet could not be removed.
Witnesses observed Jenkins pacing the corridors while reciting passages in an extinct dialect, attempting to open bulkhead doors using ritual dance, and—at one point—issuing commands to the station plants.
After thirty-two hours of erratic behavior, Jenkins entered Maintenance Shaft 7 and was not seen again. The helmet, regrettably, did not remain behind.
For avoidance of doubt: helmets are available in the Equipment Locker. They fit, they come off, and they do not compel ritualized door-opening.
Please note: the Deep Oblivion remains adequately stocked with chairs, mugs, bowls, hats, and assorted doorstops. There is no operational need to substitute these items with ancient artifacts. Should you be uncertain whether an object is a cereal bowl or a sacred ceremonial vessel, err on the side of cereal.
I urge everyone to practice restraint, respect, and scientific care. If you are uncertain whether an object is sacred, cursed, or essential to understanding the fabric of our shared past, please—please—assume it is.
I will be locking my lab from now on. If you require a container, hat, weapon, or doorstop, I recommend using literally anything else aboard this station.
—Dr. Gurdy
Research and Culture Advisor
