Stardate 00184292, Captain's Log

After traveling through the Galaxy for over three years without taking on provisions, we have at last found a planetary system that looks half-promising. The central computer took readings of the star's brightness and identified it as Tau Ceti, which means that we are somewhere near the ancient planet Earth. Earth's location is not in the central computer's memory banks, but that information would be useless; myth has it that it's an abandoned and destroyed world.

After speaking with the rest of the 13-man crew, I instructed the central computer to pilot the ship into the planetary system.

Stardate 00184294, Captain's Log

The Voyager is now approximately 800 million kilometers from the star Tau Ceti, and the central computer has located three terrestrial planets ahead. The closest to the star is small and has no atmosphere, The second is barely the size of a moon and spotted with volcanic activity. The third planet from the star is approximately 12,000 kilometers in diameter and has a small moon. According to the instrument readings, the planet is thoroughly habitable.

Stardate 00184295, Captain's Log

The ship is now in an equatorial orbit around the planet. We aimed our telescopes at the alien terrain a hundred miles below us and peered across valleys and mountain ranges. The planet looked very Earthlike (an archaic term), yet the computer reported the fact that very little organic matter exists on the surface. We decided that either evolution has barely begun on this world, or the life here is inorganic. This second possibility sent a small, quick chill up my spine.

I thought the situation over and decided that at this point, it would be unsafe to send a manned shuttle down. Instead, an exploratory probe mission would be safer. The three technicians, upon examining the probe, discovered several malfunctions due to a lack of maintenance. They have begun work on the probe and should have it operational by tomorrow.

Stardate 00184296, Captain's Log

Around noon galactic time, the technicians announced that the probe was repaired. Having given the central computer a few brief instructions, I watched through the lower viewplate as the probe was ejected from the pod bay and began its descent to the barren terrain below.

Once within the atmosphere of the planet, the probe's cameras activated and a scene of quickly-approaching mountains and hills filled an overhead screen. Soon the picture was blotted out as the probe touched down. Immediately afterward, the probe's side cameras activated and its all-terrain wheels were extended.

The probe began its slow, computer-controlled journey across the rocky highlands. No life whatsoever was in sight. Soil samples were taken by the probe and analyzed, but showed only a strong concentration of heavy metals. This was a strange planet indeed.

After a time, the landscape leveled out into a flat plain scattered with small boulders. Then the probe's cameras showed a tall, smooth, hexagon-shaped object which moved swiftly closer. At this point transmission ceased.

The planetologist of our crew put forth the suggestion that the object was a type of vehicle. The biologist disagreed, claiming that it was an organism with a metallic exoskeleton. After a heated argument, the biologist won out and the first form of life was named, appropriately, the Hexagonal Column.

Stardate 00184197, Captain's Log

We have no more probes, so our only other alternative at this point is to send a manned mission down. It is a dangerous thing to do but our needs for provisions are great. I asked for volunteers, and five reluctant men raised their hands. And so those five men and I loaded equipment into the shuttle and prepared to land on the planet.

We descended slowly and cautiously toward the surface of the planet. Through various cameras we surveyed our surroundings. As before, nothing hampered our short journey, and our small craft landed without a problem.

Various instruments on our craft tested and re-tested the integrity of the atmosphere, and concluded that it was fit for humans to breathe. It had a moderate concentration of oxygen, with minute traces of other gases.

We emerged from our shuttle and viewed the desolate surroundings. The ground was firm, and breathing was effortless. There were still no signs of life, Then, one of my men pointed into the sky, having noticed an oblong object in the air, It was rotating rapidly, so no features of the object were apparent. I decided that it must be some type of aircraft, but soon changed my mind when it came to rest on the ground not far away from the six of us.

It was divided into two sections. The top section, which was fleshy in appearance, roughly resembled a man's thumb. The proportions were much greater, however. The bottom section, obviously of metallic content, had the appearance of a large, sharp screw. After a short rest on the ground, the object began rotating again, rose into the sky, and disappeared. One of the men accompanying me dubbed the organism--if that is what it was--a thumbscrew. Thus we had named our second alien life-form.

Stardate 00184298, Captain's Log

Having lived through an entire day on the planet with no unpleasant incidents, I contacted the Voyager and instructed the crew to land the ship precisely where we had. The 7 crew members on board acknowledged and landing procedures began.

I set up a tripod field lens and began searching the landscape for some type of vegetation or other food source. It turned out, to my great surprise, that all life forms on the planet (at least in this area) were of mostly metallic composition.

Toward nightfall, my three-man expedition returned with news of a greenish alumnoid substance that covers patches of the ground in shaded areas. This substance, which apparently grows in the metallic ground, is flammable, and works well as a substitute for wood in our cooking fires. The expedition has also discovered little insectlike creatures that fuse together and break apart chemically. in the process, they emit light. These work as a type of lighting.

Stardate 00184299, Captain's Log

Using the iron insectoids for lighting was not a good idea after all. We had captured a dozen or more and placed them in a large glass jar. The creatures fused and broke apart at an alarming rate, producing such vast amounts of heat that the jar melted and the creatures fused to the metal lid and became inoperative ("died" seems like an inappropriate term).

Up to this point we have found nothing edible or soluble. Our rations are running out fast, so we are quickly becoming very desperate. This morning, four men and I took an exploratory hike into the nearby mountains. There we discovered a vegetable-like organism that floats in the air by repeatedly coiling and extending its long vine. I was able to lasso one such vegetable and pull it to the ground. Instruments proved that the vegetable was indeed edible, and we made our first meal on this planet. Although it tasted rather strange, it was nourishing, and helped boost my men's morale.

As we traveled higher up into the mountains, we discovered more odd creatures. One in particular was a cubical organism made of smooth and probably light metals. On one side of the cube were easily discernible two eyes and an air vent. A flexible spring dangled from the bottom of the cube as it floated through the sky. We humorously named the creature a cubicule.

We observed a cubicule eat a thumbscrew. When the apparently blind thumbscrew approached the cubicule, the cubicule quickly extended its spring, entangling its victim. Hopelessly caught in the spring which became tighter and tighter, the thumbscrew was pulled inside the cubicule. This whole process took less than ten minutes.

The cubicule proceeded to make grinding noises as it mechanically digested the metal part of its victim. As this was going on, the cubicule's sides began to bulge and its face to become distorted. When it had grown to twice its original size, it exploded, sending small cubes of steel in all directions.

The remains of the decrepit cubicule fell to the ground. Many creatures with nutlike heads soon appeared and devoured these scattered pieces of metal. I gave these creatures the name nutheads.

Stardate 00184300, Captain's Log

We are eating the vegetable growths, whatever they may be, and our hopes of survival are slowly becoming better. As our health and morale is now improved, we have more time to explore our immediate surroundings. We have a camp built on a small creek, about eight kilometers downhill from our landing site. A few men and I traveled back to the point where we had landed our shuttle and starship and found the shuttle to be swarming with maggotlike, cigarette-sized bars of steel. These metallomaggots attached to the mangled heap of metal that was once a first-class shuttle and bored through it, grinding up the steel plating and beam framework.

We didn't want our starship to suffer a similar fate (as that would mean remaining forever on this hellish world), so I instructed my men to fly it up into the mountains, which seemed to be devoid of these rodents. After the ship had slowly glided up into the air and disappeared northward, the remaining men and I began the long walk back to camp.

Stardate 00184303, Captain's Log

For the past three days we have been observing the various creatures on this planet and discovered one so bizarre that it is almost undescribable. It has the shape of a long, oblique octagonal prism, from which my navigator derived a perfect name for it: obliquiuloid. This creature has a large, saw-toothed mouth at one end and a rotor-like structure at its other end. By spinning this rotor irregularly, it manages to skid along on the ground.

We have now begun the process of stocking up the starship with provisions. In addition to eating the photosynthetic animals, we have now found a type of yeast-like organism which tastes somewhat like bread. I estimate that we will be able to take off this hellish planet within five days.

Stardate 00184305, Captain's Log

Our efforts at restocking the ship have been slowed down by a slight problem. It seems that some type of unknown zinc oxide substance is penetrating the hull of the Voyager in certain places. We have been able to arrest the progression of this substance by using toxic bleaching chemicals, but I'm not sure if we will completely thwart it.

Stardate 00184307, Captain's Log

I believe we have successfully removed the zinc, and our restocking procedure has resumed. I think that at this rate, we should be taking off in two days.

The ship's navigator has spotted a black cloud approaching from the east, and this has the thirteen of us worried. I told him to set up a defense shield which would keep the cloud at bay. In case of emergency, we can fire photon beams at this swarm in an attempt to dissipate it.

Stardate 00184308, Captain's Log

We are almost completely stocked and I expect a takeoff tomorrow. This dreadful planet is the most catastrophic place I have ever been in all of my galactic travels. The entire crew is anxious to board the ship and take off.

The black swarm in the east is approaching at an alarming rate. We tried to fire photon beams at it, but the swarm only absorbed the energy, expanding after each onslaught of the beam. I estimate the swarm to be about 10 hours away.

Stardate 00184309, Captain's Log

I declared the swarm an emergency and told my men to evacuate the planet. We quickly rushed up the hills to the starship's landing place and began loading our supplies into it. The swarm had enveloped our camp and was grinding through every speck of metal available. Not one tin can, not one nail, not one bit of metal escaped the swarm.

As it passed on toward us, we were loading the last of our equipment. Just as the swarm came within earshot, the computer closed the hatch, seating us safety within the confines of our beautiful, sleek Voyager.

I gave the order for takeoff. The ship's fusion chamber warmed up, filling us with joy. The swarm was almost upon us when Voyager's retro-rockets finally activated and we blasted away from the surface of that metallic, tormenting planet.

Stardate 00184310, Captain's Log

We are swiftly moving out of the planetary system. I wanted to have an opportunity to view the planet as we left it behind in the cosmic sea, naming it Metallium III. I watched as its bluish-green surface became smaller and smaller, finally becoming a speck of feeble light.

At this time I became aware of another problem. The central computer warned the crew that the food storage vault had been penetrated by some unknown object. I made my way quickly to the monitoring camera screen and got a bird's-eye view of the food vault.

It was densely packed with hundreds upon thousands of obliquiuloids grinding away at the steel walls of the vault.