Oxygen Mix Up Leads To Three Hours of Pure Unfiltered Animosity.
From: Mortimer-P6 [Human(oid) Resources ]
To: All Command Personnel
Yesterday’s scheduled oxygen flavor rotation resulted in the accidental infusion of Animosity rather than the usual stabilizing Autumn Leaves scent.
Yesterday’s oxygen fiasco has been traced to a clerical error in the Flavor Selector. Instead of the scheduled Autumn Leaves profile—an earthy blend intended to provide gentle seasonal nostalgia—the system was inadvertently set to Animosity.
What should have been a comforting whiff of foliage became, instead, an atmosphere of open conflict.
For three full hours, Deep Oblivion’s air supply carried a caustic undertone that manifested as quarrels, paranoia, and outright brawling among the crew. (Editor’s Note - More than usual, anyway)
Routine tasks devolved into ideological disputes, petty insults escalated to threats, and even the HR unit abandoned protocol in favor of physical altercation.
No fatalities occurred, though several egos remain bruised. Management has since stated it is unclear why an Animosity profile exists in the oxygen library at all, or under what circumstances it was ever intended for use.
Incident Summary:
According to reports, Team Member Jenkins inserted the wrong cartridge into the Profile Scent Configuration Deck. It appears to have been a simple alphabetical mix up, swapping ‘Animosity’ and ‘Autumn Leaves’. The blend was later identified as containing faint aldehydes, esters, and neuro-reactive terpenes, creating an “emotive vapor” that sent each subject’s cognitive bias into an aggressive emotional state. Some of the resulting incidents include:
Deck 44: Engineering
An exchange over coolant line calibration escalated into a shouting match, then devolved into a wrench-throwing contest. Damage to station infrastructure was minimal, but several diagnostic panels now bear permanent dents.
Deck 6: Galley
Food preparation stalled when a debate about proper ration labeling became a “matter of personal honor.” Utensils were brandished as weapons. Lunch was delayed by two hours, and several meals were reportedly “seasoned with spite.”
Deck 104: Research
A minor disagreement over specimen storage protocols ballooned into a full-scale standoff. Notes were shredded, microscopes repositioned out of spite, and one experiment was ruined by intentional sneezing.
Deck 172: Command
Multiple officers attempted to seize control of navigation simultaneously, producing conflicting inputs. The station briefly veered thirty degrees off course before stabilization systems overruled human interference.
Personal Testimonials From Team Members:
Captain Jake
The bridge was thick with static. I gave a routine heading, and immediately Smitts barked that “my voice was condescending.” Imagine: my own maintenance officer critiquing my tone. I told him he couldn’t navigate his way through a pantry, let alone a quadrant. Then Dr. Gurdy chimed in to say we were both “emotionally compromised.” I shouted her down, of course.
Strange thing is, I remember my throat aching from yelling, but no memory of the orders I supposedly issued.
Dr. Gurdy
The air scratched my nerves raw. Every sound was a provocation. Sherlock tapping his pen, Dylan breathing too loudly, Jake’s poetic grandstanding — each was unbearable. I told Sherlock if he didn’t stop tapping I would catalog his remains in the specimen freezer. He replied that I wouldn’t know a proper catalog if it slapped me. I considered slapping him.
Smitts
I’ll admit it: I tried to fight the oxygen scrubber. With my fists. It hummed at me, smug. I told the others it was “deliberately underperforming.” Jake mocked me, so I mocked him back — said he steered like a drunk Pludorian. He squared up. If Dylan hadn’t wedged himself between us, I swear one of us would’ve gone out the airlock.
Sherlock
Everything was a betrayal. I was convinced Gurdy was hoarding secrets, Jake was plotting against me, Smitts was sabotaging my quarters. At one point I locked myself in comms and broadcast a message accusing the entire crew of treason. I signed it, “Your Former Colleague.” Mortifying.
Dylan
I knew the oxygen had gone sour when Mortimer-P6, our HR unit, tried to throttle me for “insufficient respect.” I kept my head low and focused on ventilation. The others fought like feral dogs over grammar, tool ownership, song lyrics. Smitts and Jake nearly came to blows over the proper orientation of a coffee mug handle.
I cycled the scrubbers three times, bled the mix through filters, and waited. By 1600 OHT, the animosity thinned, leaving everyone with sore throats, split knuckles, and a collective vow never to speak of it again.
AI System Observations
Throughout the three-hour incident, the station’s orbital AI systems and attendant units remained fully operational, monitoring the outbreak of hostility with a mix of horror and anthropological fascination.
VERA reported “grave concerns about humanity’s impulse control,” while auxiliary bots circulated quietly, compiling behavioral data “for future training modules.”
Mortimer-P6 later admitted to briefly abandoning HR neutrality when it “seemed the only logical course of action was strangulation.”
Logs confirm no AI intervened directly, though several expressed in post-analysis that the episode was “the most entertaining three hours of the mission to date.”
Aftermath:
By 1600 OHT, filters scrubbed the atmosphere back to baseline, tempers cooled, and most disputes collapsed under their own absurdity. Crew members have since apologized—some sincerely, others contractually—and several tool ownership feuds were formally mediated.
The Oxygen Flavor Stabilizer has been recalibrated, and Operations promises a new roster of “emotionally safe” oxygen profiles in the coming weeks, including Camaraderie Breeze and Focus Mint.
A limited trial of Mild Curiosity is also planned, pending HR approval.
—Mortimer-P6
Human(oid) Resources
No nose is a good nose…
