The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's shining down through a massive, retractable dome ceiling in a hollowed-out asteroid, illuminating a sprawling, zero-gravity fungal farm. The air's kinda stale, with this rich, earthy scent of mycelium and a hint of burned fuel from the asteroid's propulsion systems. Water's somehow being drawn out of the fungal hyphae themselves, creating these tendrils of mist that're curling up like tentacles, and it's all synchronized to the beat of a perpetual, pulsing vibration that's coming from the asteroid's core... Umm, the fungal growths are shifting, rearranging themselves to spell out lines of code in some obscure, ancient language.