Edge of Mass TXR-3 - onboard the derelict vessel Salmanazar

Drago Petrovic, director of the Extraplanetary Special Projects for the USSF poured over the many daily reports, sipping a cup of strong malted hot java. Everyone was gone for the day, back to the main scientific vessel assigned to this expedition and as always, he had been left alone on the bowels of the ancient ship.
One year ago him and his team of scientists and xeno-archaeologists had dived into the finding and the rich history and technology of the vessel, working around the clock, using the ship as a base of sorts. Although they had managed to restore some basic systems they had not be able to to take the vessel to a more secure location.
A full flight contingent had been assigned to the expedition to keep the area as safe as possible.
Him and his team had found out very quickly that something in the organic composition of the vessel affected them the longer they were exposed to it. Psychotic episodes, nervous breakdowns and even a few suicides had taken place in the first few months of the work. Everyone that stayed in the vessel for long periods at a time started to report strange visions and dreams. Insomnia had affected productivity as many refused to dare and go to sleep.
Now no one was allowed to work on the vessel for more than 8 hours at a time and never for longer than 2 weeks without a break of a week.

He spent more time in the vessel than anyone else. He seem to have some sort of natural immunity to whatever plagued the others. He was still visited by the same visions and dreams as his team but Petrovic didn't feel the same weight and sense of depression. Here he was walking the ancient corridors and galleys of a ship that had seen the birth of stars.

As always he spent time looking over the old ancient texts recovered. The few words they managed to translate burning into his mind.

'Atlas...Gatekeeper...The Void...Death...Onyx...Red Fury...The End...'

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