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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Millions of tons of rusting spaceship parts and debris are strewn across a massive, arid canyon landscape under a deep crimson sky, with the pale moon hovering just above the horizon. Umm, the air's super dry and tastes like burned fuel, it's pretty windy, and I can smell the acrid tang of ozone... somehow, a colossal, fully intact Apollo Guidance Computer is casually half-buried in the dirt, surrounded by a halo of tiny, glowing gemstones that seem to be generating a weak, pulsating electric charge in the air. A bunch of feral starlings is pecking at its exposed circuit boards.