Latest updates on Deck 12, which has ceased to exist for some time now.

After weeks of untold speculation and false tips, Deck 12 has been located, and where it is may surprise you. It appears Deck 12 did not vanish in the conventional sense. Instead, it was automatically ingested by the Department of Peripheral Inquiry’s new Hyperdimensional Operations Classifying and Archival System (HOCAS).

The software was designed to tidy up redundant files, but appears to have interpreted “Deck 12” as a “document set” rather than “physical space.”

Latest Findings:

• Deck 12 now exists solely as a 3.2 GB PDF document entitled “Facilities, Miscellaneous (Deck-Level, 12).pdf.”

• Crew of Five have been converted into high-resolution JPEGs (3,000x2,000 px each). Their activities are frozen mid-task: one drinking coffee, another halfway through tightening a valve, one sneezing. All are labeled with metadata tags such as “Human,” “Staff,” “Unsorted.”

• Furnishings (rugs, bunk beds, tool kits, a vending machine) were exported as separate PNGs. Strangely, the vending machine became a GIF—it loops endlessly between “Out of Order” and “Insert Credits.”

• File Integrity: The Deck 12 PDF is password-protected. No one admits to setting a password. Mortimer-P6 claims the default might be “password,” but repeated attempts have locked the file.

• Compression Artifacts: Crew JPEGs suffer from mild distortion when enlarged. For example, Chief Technician Mara’s left eye renders as a square of static at higher zoom levels.

• Cross-Compatibility: Attempts to print Deck 12 back into physical form cause Deep Oblivion’s printers to emit small staircases and tiny doorknobs, but never anything usable.

Secondary Effects:

• Casual Conversation: Crew members occasionally hear faint .WAV files of the missing team when opening folders on shared drives. Complaints about lunch rations, footsteps, and muffled sneezes play back at random.

• Search Function: Typing “Deck 12” into station search now auto-completes as “See: Attached PDF.”

• Legal Questions: Station HR insists the JPEG crew are technically still employed and accruing leave days, but Finance argues they are now “digital assets” and fall under the Archival Budget.

Additional Problems for the Archived Crew:

• Outdated Software: Deck 12 requires Adobe Acrobat 2479 Pro Galactic Edition to open. The station only has the free reader, which refuses to render staircases or life support properly.

• Uninstalled Updates: Every attempt to access the crew JPEGs triggers a pop-up: “Update Required. Restart Station Now?” Captain Jake has forbidden pressing “Yes.”

• Subscription Fees: Deck 12’s PDF is stored in the “Cloud,” but the trial period just expired. Finance insists someone must enter a credit card to continue existing.

• File Corruption: One JPEG crew member occasionally gets “half-loaded” on screen, speaking clearly from the torso up while their legs appear as checkerboard transparency.

• Search Limitations: CTRL+F only locates Deck 12’s bathrooms if typed as “lavatory.” Attempts to search “toilet” return 0 results.

• Digital Rights Management: The vending machine GIF now requires a license key. Without it, snacks remain pixelated and inedible.

• Error Logs: Victor swears he hears a crewman crying from inside the Recycle Bin. But HR insists the Bin must be emptied weekly per protocol.

• File Sharing: Deck 12 cannot be emailed because “attachment exceeds size limit.” Attempts to compress it into a ZIP left the ZIP strangely warm to the touch.

• PDF Security: To “unlock” Deck 12, the system demands two-factor authentication. Unfortunately, it sends the confirmation code to the missing crew’s work phones, which are also trapped in the PDF.

• Version Control: Multiple “autosaved” Deck 12s now exist: Deck12_final.pdf, Deck12_final_FINAL.pdf, and Deck12_FINAL2_revised(1).pdf. No one knows which one contains life support.

• Patch Notes: The archival software releases updates that only worsen things: “Improved search speed” now causes the JPEG crew to jitter when hovered over.

• Subscription Tiers: HR insists we could bring the crew back if we upgraded to the “Enterprise Plus” plan, but that requires filling out a requisition form notarized by three Pludorians.

• Endless Captchas: Every attempt to restore Deck 12 triggers a Captcha asking the operator to “Select all images with Stairwells.” After hours of clicking, all images become stairwells.

Closing Statement:

Orbital management currently has no actionable path forward. We cannot confirm whether the archived personnel are adequately nourished or even aware of their status as image files. Hope persists—though unfounded—that the JPEG crew continues some semblance of workplace activity within the PDF environment.

A task force of “Digital Recovery Professionals” has been nominally assembled, but their only concrete recommendation to date is to create a clearly labeled desktop folder (color-coded, perhaps teal) in which to store Facilities, Miscellaneous (Deck-Level, 12).pdf until “further solutions present themselves.”

This approach has not materially advanced recovery efforts but has provided the illusion of order, which remains an organizational priority.

—Dr. Gurdy

Research and Culture Advisor