The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti-scrawled asteroids are drifting by outside the grimy windows of this cramped, makeshift control room, Echo... it's got a low-pressure feel to it, like we're way out in some asteroid belt or something. Uh, the air's thick with burned wiring and engine grease smells. This old PC in front of me has a Vesta asteroid miner's control software running, with some cryptic "Trial Space Shard" prompt displayed on-screen – meanwhile, somehow the giant, molten core of the asteroid we're embedded inside is just visible through this tiny porthole to my left, like it's contained behind heat-resistant glass.