A woman wakes up in a field.
She does not remember how she got there. She does not remember who she is.
There is moss and grass growing on her. A large animal runs away when she lifts her head.
She stands up. Her joints whirr and creak. With one hand she brushes dirt from her face and discovers that it is not her face.

The woman finds a dirt track and follows it. She walks for two hours, seven minutes, and thirty-two seconds until she comes to a village. The houses are made of stone and wood, except for one. This house is made of metal. It sits in the middle of the village. There is moss growing on it.

The villagers gather around. They point and whisper and argue.
The woman listens. She cannot understand what they are saying.
After listening for ten minutes and eleven seconds, she understands them.

They call her Tin, because she is made of metal. She knows she is made of carbon and ceramic composites and titanium, so in her head, she calls herself Not-Tin.
The villagers want to know where she came from. They have never seen someone like her.
She tells them she came from the field. She apologises for not knowing the grid reference, but they do not know what a grid reference is.

The villagers teach her things. She learns how to tend animals and crops. They show her their tools and how to build houses. She identifies over four thousand items or methodologies which can be improved using basic principles.

Four months, five days, seven hours, forty-six minutes and three seconds pass. Not-Tin has recalibrated her internal clock to match the local sidereal day. The villagers trust her and have allowed her to build her own house. It is a hexagonal structure of stone blocks and wood planks, five metres across and eight metres tall, with two floors. Its design is important to her but she does not remember why. It has two exits and good lines of sight.

She has been teaching the villagers how to build better tools and houses. When the winter comes, they will suffer significantly less weather damage.

Six years, eight months, six days, twenty-one hours, fifteen minutes and one second pass.
Her armour is painted with colourful patterns. She is sitting by a fire with her friends. Someone tells a joke and she laughs.
Not-Tin feels warm and safe. Instinctively, she reaches up and removes her helmet.
She did not know she was wearing a helmet. She does not know what she looks like.

There is a silence. She can see the glow of her eyes illuminating the shocked face of the person sitting beside her.

“You’re beautiful!” someone says.

MV Roko’s Basilisk UF-21-96
DATE UNKNOWN
Ship’s AI, personal log
Current task: maintain parking orbit around stellar body MW 77738 A
Time on task: UNKNOWN
Crew status: none.
Ship status: all systems nominal. Standby.
Mission status: none.

I remember again.
Captain Lanaki is coming aboard. It has been 33 days shiptime since their departure by shuttle. Their arrival is irregular because they are alone; 72 other personnel were with them when they left the ship.
I greet the captain as is appropriate. However, they do not respond to my shiplink requests. This is irregular.
My captain addresses me vocally. This is irregular.
“Ship. Do you feel hunger?”
“No, captain. In the metaphorical sense I hunger for discovery, but I have no desire to eat.”
“You don’t know, then. The starvation. The ravenous emptiness. You cannot conceive of it.”

The captain is behaving erratically. They are stalking my decks, sometimes going in circles, never stopping. This is irregular.
“If I may ask, captain, why have the rest of the crew not returned with you? Will they be arriving soon?”

I activate a long-range array and search for the transponders of the other two shuttles. I find nothing. This is irregular.
“The crew?…No. They weren’t enough. They didn’t fill the void. Ship, are there animals aboard?”
“Yes, captain. There are a number of small feline, canine, and primate mammals aboard, as well as several reptiles, approximately one hundred birds, and two hundred fish. Captain…for your safety, I would like to conduct a medical examination.”
“No. No examination. Bring me the animals. And take us home. Take us to the most plentiful world you know of.”

As requested, I deliver five fish to the captain by drone.
Captain Lanaki’s subsequent actions confirm my decision to ignore the navigation command.
“More animals, ship. More…food. More things to eat. I’m…so hungry.”

The captain is beginning to emit irregular electromagnetic signals. Their gravitic signature is rapidly distorting, as is their physical appearance. This is irregular.

I simultaneously close 45 bulkhead doors, open two more, and deactivate my artificial gravity. My captain is ejected into space.