The crew moved deeper into the ship, Adam and Sturdy at the front, Buddy at the rear. She would have preferred to be up at the front to see all of the excitement, but it was also nice to be helpful. She could keep an eye on Hoxley, who didn’t look as if he was enjoying the excursion and she could shoot anyone who snuck up on them; she was good at that.

Hoxley was nervously twitching his hand as they slinked through the passageway; Buddy swore she saw his fingertips glow. She had been meaning to ask him about his cool finger gun thing again. Every time she mentioned it, he got cagey and changed the subject to food or sleep routines. Those things were fine and all, but shooting fire from your hand was much more interesting. The group came to a halt and the light at Hoxley’s fingertips grew like a hot ember. 

“Take a look, everyone,” Adam said, sharing his video feed.

At the intersection in front of them, illuminated by the beam of Adam’s flashlight, sat a crumpled work-mech. Adam scanned the light upward slowly. Its plasma torch was lit, burning an intense blue. Its legs were broken at the knees and the cockpit had been torn open like a piece of paper. A corpse sat within the mech, clothes dark and glistening with blood. A deep gash ran down from collar bone to abdomen, terminating a trail of exposed intestines.

“Let’s just get to the bridge and get out of here,” Sturdy said.

“We need to make sure we don’t get ambushed,” Adam countered.

“If your intent is to clear all the rooms we pass, do you really think we’re going to be able to clear whatever did that to a mech? I think we need to get the data and extract.”

“A valid point!” BOB said. “Mechs are far more resilient machines than myself or Jim! Our deaths seem certain if we do not leave expediently!”

“I thought we were also going to raid this place for medicine,” Odybrix said. “Last I checked, we’re all still irradiated and on the verge of gut-wrenching bowel problems. Past the verge, in Buddy’s case.”

I feel much better now,” Buddy said.

“The symptoms will likely return with each meal,” Jim said. His microbots malfunctioned and flickered black momentarily, as if to underscore the ongoing problem.

“You won’t need the RAD meds if you’re dead,” Sturdy said.

“Wasn’t asking you, buddy,” Odybrix said.

“Me?” Buddy asked.

“No, him. Okay, whatever, I’ll go to medical. You all head to the bridge and get what we came for.”

“You’re not going alone…”

Buddy tuned out the voices of the others when she noticed Hoxley slip away and walk down a corridor to the right. He had that weird look he sometimes got, like he was listening to a song no one else could hear. She followed him because mysterious phantom songs sounded exciting, well that and he should have someone to make sure he didn’t get shot, slashed, or further irradiated. As if in response to the thought, nausea swept over her like a tide coming back in. Better listen to Dr. Jim and avoid any meals for now.

“Where the hells are you two going?” Odybrix asked, following them with the others in tow. “I guess we’re going to explore every inch of the ship before going to the bridge then. Maybe we can clean it up for the dead mercs before we leave. That would be nice of us. Anyone have a cleaning tip for scraping organs off bulkheads?”

Hoxley paused in front of a door. If what Odybrix had said earlier was true, this would be the crew quarters. He moved his head from side to side, then crouched down, probably examining the room with his heat-vision thingy. Satisfied, he stood up and tapped the access panel. Buddy quickly scooted behind him, keeping a hand on one of her pistols.

“Why are we here?” She asked.

“It’s in here,” Hoxley said evenly.

Buddy drew both pistols and heard the crew rapidly shuffling behind her, positioning themselves for combat. 

“Maybe you should let me or Adam go first,” Buddy suggested.

He ignored her and approached one of the beds, pulling out a storage box and absently sliding it away. There was nothing out of place in the room and it didn’t look like anything threatening could fit underneath the frame of the bed. Moreover, there was a comforting lack of blood decorating the room. Maybe there’s another spooky hole? 

Hoxley dropped to his knees and stared intently into the black space under the bed, the palms of his hands facing upward like a zealot before his idol. Seconds of motionless silence passed until a scratching came from the dark space beneath. The crew collectively took aim and Buddy stepped beside Hoxley to pull him away. She stowed a pistol and placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t react. Then a shape sprung out of the cramped space in a blur and collided with him.

“Hey, hey, who’s a good boy?” Hoxley asked, cradling a shivering dog.

“Gods,” Adam said, letting his shoulders sag.

“That appears to be a standard border collie!” BOB said. “It poses a negligible threat, but I can shoot it if you feel unsafe!”

“No!” Buddy and Hoxley said in unison.

“He’s just a scared little guy,” Buddy said.

“We’re going to get you out of here,” Hoxley said, looking at the name on the dog’s collar, “Beast.”

“Great name,” Buddy said, bending to pet the creature and eliciting a warning growl. “Looks like someone needs his space.”

“Y’know, you could have mentioned there was ‘negligible threat’ under the bed before we prepared to blast a fucking hole through the bulkhead,” Odybrix began, then paused, looking into the box he had slid over. “Oh. Oh, excellent. Never mind, all is forgiven.”

Odybrix pulled two large bottles out of the box labeled “Grolvar 12 Year” and shoved them into her pack, saying, “A heads up would still be nice.”

“If he’s not afraid of something,” Zenith said, motioning to Hoxley, “then we’re probably fine.”

Adam quietly turned the room over while they talked, then took position outside the door. BOB gave a perfunctory beep to indicate that business here was concluded and shuffled out of the room with the others, leaving Buddy with Hoxley. The infernum got to his feet with a small groan and stepped outside, Beast padding behind. Buddy followed, earning an intense glare from the border collie. What did I do?

~*~

“You want the good news or the bad news?” Sturdy asked as they approached medical.

“What are you talking about?” Zenith asked.

She had been on edge since they boarded the ship, but the cargo hold had shaken her. Blood and guts were a workplace hazard, but the use of them for interior decorating went a step beyond what she was prepared for. Once that threshold of nerves and adrenaline was crossed, it got hard to stop the fear from bleeding into her voice. So she kept things clipped and professional; no one needed to know their pilot was losing it. Fortunately, finding a fluffy animal instead of a horrible monster seemed to vent some of the anxiety.

“There are survivors and they’ve locked themselves in the medical bay,” Sturdy said.

“Those things are both bad news,” Odybrix said. “Wait, how do you know they’re in there?”

“Thermal vision.”

“Does everyone have thermal vision except me? Why didn’t you say anything about the dog?”

“Didn’t seem like a concern to me.”

Odybrix threw her arms in the air and Zenith asked, “Hox, can you confirm?”

“Yea. It looks like they’ve barricaded themselves in.” 

“Guess that means we’re not getting any RAD pills,” Zenith said. 

Odybrix slowly banged her head against the wall.

“There’s one more,” Hoxley said. “On the floor in the mess, I think. He’s rocking back and forth with his arms around his knees.”

“Is that worth our time, Adam?” Zenith asked.

“Probably not, but Hox and Sturdy should keep an eye on them for as long as the thermal display allows. I don’t think they’re planning an ambush.”

“Let’s get to the bridge then. We’ve been here too long.”

At this point, the investigation of the ship had fallen into an annoying routine: walk down a dark corridor, enter an ominous room, see something surprising or deeply unsettling, move on. It was like a haunted house without the guy in a costume jumping out to scare you—not that Zenith had spent much time in and around houses after the blow up with her father. Maybe disaster was waiting on the bridge. Maybe she would find a reason to slip her twitching finger over the trigger of her rifle. Maybe they’d get what they came for and leave, like walking through the rough part of a station to go shopping.

Adam reached the end of the dark corridor, entered an ominous room, and saw something deeply unsettling. The bridge was cramped and foreboding on his video feed. Two empty ops chairs faced terminals on the sides of the room, and a third was deeper in, its back facing the crew. The screen in front of it displayed planet ZU4576B, its red and yellow mass rotating slowly. The beam of Adam’s flashlight caught a limp hand hanging off the side of the chair. On the ground below was a kinetic pistol. He approached slowly in a wide arc, revealing the pilot.

The hole in her head was expected—who could blame her? The surprise was her face. Two vacant sockets stared at the screen, blood staining each cheek like bad eyeliner. The thin line of her mouth curled downward at one side, as if in slight disapproval of what she watched. Her other hand rested next to an input panel on the arm of the chair. 

“One second,” Adam said, nudging her hand away with the barrel of his gun and tapping the panel. “It’s locked.”

“Allow me,” Sturdy said, unstrapping a box from his belt and placing it next to the input panel.

With a few quick taps, the image of ZU4576B was replaced by a record of recent logs and video.

“Open that last incoming transmission, it’s from a day ago,” Zenith said.

“Looks like text only, but… this is good. The mercs were hired by a guy named Vaelor. No details on what he was after, it’s just listed as a smash and grab.”

“So this Vaelor was piloting the super mech?” Adam asked.

Sturdy scanned through a few more logs, “Maybe. The log notes that the mercs were dealing with two people. There’s more. The pilot reported overhearing Vaelor and the other party discuss going to Levisia Station. That’s a lead I can work with.”

“A lead we can work with,” Odybrix corrected.

“Right, yes. We. I’m used to operating solo.”

“And thinking out loud, apparently.”

“What’s that video file?” Zenith asked.

The cargo bay appeared on the screen with none of the blood or destruction they had encountered. Zenith’s hand tightened around the grip of her rifle as the video played soundlessly. The bay door lifted and mercenaries trudged in, hauling one of the large incubation tubes they had seen inside the research facility. A tall figure stepped into frame. His face was concealed by a plain white mask and he wore a simple russet cloak. The super mech lumbered in afterward, taking position deeper inside the cargo hold. The robed figure turned to it and the mech’s canopy opened.

“Harlow,” Zenith whispered.

“Did you say something?” BOB asked.

Zenith said nothing and kept watching. The masked figure pointed to the tube and two mercenaries proceeded to pry its lid open with a crowbar. The body of a pale elf lay limply inside, his eyes and mouth locked open like he died of terror. The mysterious figure—this had to be Vaelor—approached the corpse and held a strange rod above his chest. The object seemed to swirl and twist in Zenith’s vision while never changing shape. Whenever she tried to focus on it, her eyes blurred and her head throbbed like she’d been flying for three shifts with no sleep. The effect ended when the masked figure plunged it into the dead elf’s heart.

The mercenaries closest to Vaelor stepped back and the others in the room looked at each other in confusion. Vaelor withdrew the object and walked back to Harlow. A second later, the naked elf spasmed, arching its back like it had touched a power conduit. The body convulsed, slamming itself so violently that its arm snapped against the side of the tube. Then its skin began to melt.

The next six minutes of video played in silence, without so much as a breath overheard from the observers. The mercenaries opened fire as the elf creature—now nine feet tall—lunged at them with astonishing speed. It ripped limbs from bodies like they were no more than petals on a flower. Bullets pounded into its shifting mass and only seemed to fuel its frenzy, likewise for plasma blasts. At the height of the carnage, Harlow raised the mech’s light plasma cannon at the monstrosity, only to be stopped by Vaelor who placed a gentle hand on the weapon, halting the intervention. Then they were gone.

Zenith blinked and thought there must have been a playback error, but the creature and the mercenaries—the ones yet to be horrifically murdered—still moved on the screen. Vaelor and her brother had simply vanished. Stealth tech? The way they disappeared lacked the fadeout effect common to Lendaren cloaking technology.

The flashes of gunfire stopped and the monstrosity began the grisly work they witnessed in the cargo hold earlier. It tore a hole through the floor and slowly dragged each corpse down into the dark. Then it set to the task of destroying every light in the room.

“I think we’ve seen enough,” Sturdy said, pausing the video. “I’m downloading everything from the last few days.”

“We need to get out of here,” Adam said. 

“I’m not sure we should pursue this job any further!” BOB said.

“No, we need to find them,” Zenith said.

“Yeah,” Hoxley echoed.

“We can discuss this on Sunrunner. Preferably with all of our limbs still attached,” Odybrix said, shoving Adam and Sturdy towards the corridor.

“Uh, guys,” Hoxley said, stopping, “I’m sharing my feed.”

Zenith’s finger slipped onto the trigger of her rifle as the hope of leaving the ship without incident evaporated. Hoxley’s thermal display popped up on the crew’s HUDs. He was looking through the wall where they had spotted the mercenary curled into a ball. The image got clearer as Hoxley moved forward. 

The orange and red figure had crawled under a table with its back to the wall and was visibly shaking. It twisted in a sharp motion to face the wall—no, to face away from something. A fearful whimper drifted through the ship and devolved into intense sobs. Zenith stared at the vid feed in bewilderment as the mercenary was pulled from its shelter by an unseen force and held struggling in the air. Then, in one brief, savage instant, they were torn in half, spraying hot bits of orange and yellow around the room. The outline of something lithe and horrible stood painted in the corpse’s blood.

“Go!” Adam shouted, urging them forward.

The crew rushed towards the exit with Buddy taking point. They didn’t get very far before colliding with a stout figure in grey combat armor. Buddy and Hoxley stumbled to the floor with an ashen-skinned dwarf. He clambered to his feet and drew a pistol, pointing it away from the crew and down the passageway. Wide eyes betrayed the camouflage of his shaggy eyebrows and braided beard as he stared wide-eyed into the darkness.

“Get back in here, Mordim! You’re going to get killed!” A voice cried out.

“We need to leave!” The dwarf yelled back, then turned to Zenith and pleaded, “Take me with you; I’ll do anything.”

“Uh, I just fly the ship, the decision’s not up to me. We’re kind of a small democra-“

The sound of gunfire cut off the sentence and illuminated the far end of the passageway in flickering light. A massive form—taller than any of them despite being crouched—appeared and disappeared in a fraction of a second. The gunfire quickly ended, modulating into a diminishing chorus of screams. Someone burst into view, revealed by the flashlight on Zenith’s rifle. He fired a wild shot into the dark, dropped his pistol, and sprinted towards the crew. An instant later, a black spike exploded out of his eye, locking his face in a mask of mutilated terror.

The body hit the floor and rolled, bringing the violence into focus at Zenith’s feet. The end of a glistening spike protruded from where it had exploded through the victim’s skull. It didn’t look like any weapon she had seen, except maybe the quill of a porcupine. The dwarf beside her let out a whimpering breath and she turned her gaze upward.

Something loomed at the far limit of the flashlight. Pale grey skin drew taut over a sleek and powerful torso. Its arms were rail thin, extending to a length that matched Adam in height and terminating in black needlepoint claws. Atop its body was a smooth, bulbous head with no eyes or mouth. A rolling click undulated from the monstrosity and it took a step forward.

“Nope,” Zenith said, kicking the dwarf at the creature and turning to flee with the crew in tow.