Ceaseless Dark - Chapter 1

 

=======

 

Space is one of the only wonders that humankind will never

truly manage to fathom. It's seemingly simple in its complexity,

able to be summarized in only a few words, but impossible for

any person to grasp the magnitude of it. The concept of 'Infinite'

is one that the layman and scientist alike can agree on the basic

definition readily. Endless. Without borders or edges or dimensions. 

A vastness so great that the act of traversing a fraction of a fraction

could see the birth, rise, and death of an entire species and not even

reaching your intended destination during that time. 

The very concept is so grand in its scope that no terrestrial ape,

no matter how clever in their machinations, could ever hope

to appreciate or understand the unlimited, uncaring emptiness of 

which we barely manage to survive in by no other measure than luck.

- Dr. Shagun Beckett, "Into Infinity"

 

 

Chapter 1 

    "Easy. Eaaasy." Dunagan drew out the word as if by force of will alone, the universe would bend to him.

    Colby ignored him.

    The plasma torch in her hand was hot, even through the layers upon layers of protective equipment and the thick padding of her environmental suit. Truly, a testament to the dangerous tool in her hand. The blade of blue-white flame burned noiselessly in the vacuum around her, but seemed to echo up through her suit from her fingertips as a ghostly hissing noise.

    "Almost through..." she declared. "Three... Two..."

    In the next moment, Dunagan pulled hard against the debris, wrenching the freshly cut metal loose, and then promptly pushed back against it to keep the whole mess from sweeping the two of them back into the blackness beyond.

    "We're in." Dunagan announced.

    "Good job, guys." Merrick crackled over the headset radio. "Keep us posted and be careful in there."

    "Always am." Colby responded, the excitement slipping through as she did.

    Colby always felt excited the first time they entered a wreck. To her, it was like opening a present on Christmas morning. Every ship was different. Some were big and boxxy. Others small and sleek. Plenty were somewhere in the middle with all manner of weird shapes and angles, facilitating the needs of whatever systems or people used to inhabit it. But opening them up was what really got her heart racing.

    You never knew what you'd find inside.

    Contrary to what most Earthers believed, wrecks were somehow both more and less perilous than they imagined. Many dirt-dwellers thought of it akin to diving for sunken treasure in pirate infested waters, exploring the rotting corpse of some vessel claimed by the sea years prior. But, given the lack of both sharks and water, abandoned space-vessels were more akin to urban exploring or, perhaps, wandering into a great, old ruin. It wasn't completely uncommon to find the remains of people, though probably less common then one might think.

    As fun as Colby always thought that sounded, it just wasn't accurate. Instead, the actual dangers came from the ships themselves.

    After all, people don't just abandon ship because everything is ship shape. Something catastrophic is often happening. The bigger ones, engine failure, reactor meltdown, etc. don't tend to leave much more than scrap to pick up. However radiation leaks, environmental failures like oxygen or temperature, and even contaminants like disease or a dozen different types of system failures can all lead to people high-tailing it off a ship and leaving the hulking vessel to careen lifelessly through space.

    When working ship salvage, as Colby and her team did, it was always necessary to remember that the inside of a ship was filled with untold dangers, all of which you had to be on the lookout for. Something as simple as a misstep or bumping too hard into something could tear open one's environmental suit and then it was "Bye Bye, Guy".

    Still, that had never happened with their team.

    They were professionals.

    Even with all the dangers, the reward far outweighed the risk for her.

    Just as every ship was filled with possible dangers, it too was filled with possible treasures. Scrap was the easiest haul. Literally just metal and alloy to be processed down and recycled to fly again once more. But the interior of ships were filled with anything and everything imaginable. Anything that a person might possibly carry with them or strap onto or into a ship could potentially be hidden within the confines of a dead wreck.

    Technology, electronics, equipment, contraband, smuggled goods, cargo of all shapes and sizes, and, depending on a salvager's view of graverobbing, potentially any number of personal items could all be found and resold for a decent price.

    While Colby and her team didn't fall into that later category, there were times she'd considered crossing the line. One time in particular had been on a small passenger ship when she found the remains of an old wealthy woman's jewelry box. Technically she could have commandeered the expensive box and its contents without anyone being any the wiser, but it always felt wrong.

    It's one thing to take from an empty vessel.

    It's another thing to take from that which was once a person.

    Now, as Dunagan carefully pulled the loose pieces of metal and tossed them out behind, dooming them to an eternity of drifting through space til they either ran into a sun or burned up in the atmosphere of some planet who knows where, Colby felt her guts tightening in excited anticipation.

    The ship they'd found, the Auriga, was an old military science vessel that had been marked as destroyed roughly a century back, during the First Planetary War. Based on the condition it was in, it seemed likely that it been under fire and the crew jumped ship. Holes pockmarked the hull and detritus, attracted by the pull of the vacuum of space, had filled in the gaps of the wreckage.

    No gravity.

    No atmosphere.

    Filled with debris and the remains of a hurried escape.

    It was honestly Colby's favorite sort of wreck.

    It was probably the closest she ever felt to being one of those explorers that so many people thought ship salvager's were. Those old divers that would go down into the ocean ship wrecks. Water. Sharks. Beasts and mysteries of the deep.

    Colby felt goosebumps run down her back, the darkness closing in around her as her and Dunagan floated gently through the newly cut opening. The drifted past the thick, jagged remnants of the hull, and into a wide open space lined with computer bays, electronics, and a dozen different pieces of equipment that she could only think to describe as 'Science Stuff'.

    Her lips curled into a genuine smile as her helmet lights carved through the dark and she took in the load of old equipment that was, quite literally, in the very first room they'd entered on the ship.

    "Jackpot." she said gleefully.

    Strictly speaking, electronics that had been floating around in the emptiness of space were unlikely to actually work anymore. More than half, if not all, would almost certainly be toast. A century of exposure to cosmic and solar radiation, not to mention temperature fluctuations that varied by several hundred degrees, had a tendency to do that.

    Even so, finding military or science intel of any kind always pulled a pretty penny from the party who had lost it, more so if someone was inclined to sell to the opposing side. On top of that, the equipment itself was a good deal more valuable as scrap to be recycled and repurposed than hull metal.

    Precious metals were, after all, precious.

    "Can I say? I hope the whole damn ship is like this." Dunagan said, the smile plain in his voice.

    "It may be. May not." Jameson chimed in with a burst of static. "I'm marking it for the moment. Complete your sweep."

    "You got it, boss." Colby confirmed.

    "Be careful in there, guys." Huli's gentle voice sounded over the static of the microphones. "Military ship means no records. No records means I can't guide you through there."

    "We got this." Colby said with confidence.

    "Hell yea, we do." Dunagan agreed, lifting a heavy, gloved fist and receiving his desired fist-bump from Colby.

    "Enough chatter." Jameson said with a clipped tone. "Get moving."

    "Aye aye, boss."

    Floating past the bays of electronics, the two salvagers made their way to the sealed door on the other side of the room and began cutting their way through with the plasma torch, intent on the ship, and the bounty, beyond.

   

 ===

 

Read the Next Chapter - Chapter 2 

Hodoshi (Working Title) - Part 1

    "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr...?"
    Hodoshi quietly stared at the massive, grease stained man before him, his hand extended to shake.
    The big man wore heavy leathers, an off-colored shirt that, before the years of brown and yellow stains, might have been called white, and thick, well-worn black motorcycle boots. The smell coming off of him was some combination of machine parts, probably motor oil based if Hodoshi were to guess, and overwhelming body odor. On top of everything else, he had a glaze in his eyes that suggested he was either drunk, high, or both.
    He was thick, burly, stupid, and everything about him came off as just dirty.
    It made Hodoshi want to spit.
    Hodoshi did not shake his hand.
    "What is it that you want, Mr. Duante?" he asked with plain annoyance.
    The big man stared at Hodoshi in confusion but his associate, Cooper, was quick to translate.
    "The fuck was that?" the big man asked stupidly.
    "My employer would simply like to know why you requested his presence, Mr. Duante." said the slender man to Hodoshi's right.
    "Felix."
    "I'm sorry?"
    "I'm Felix. Ain't nobody called me Mr. Duante since school." the bruiser said wit a sneer.
    "And I'm sure that was quite a long time ago, wasn't it, Mr. Duante?" Hodoshi asked, his face dead pan.
    "The fuck is he doin?" the big man asked, jabbing a finger in Hodoshi's direction.
    For just the briefest of moments, Hodoshi considered snapping it off at the knuckle.
    Only for a moment though.
    "He merely is expressing a brief apology and asks we get down to business." his associate mistranslated, a well-practiced smile tickling at the edges of his thing lips. A subtle, disarming mannerism Cooper had perfected long ago.
    Not for the first time, Hodoshi openly ignored the thug in front of him and glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings with a lingering sense of disgust.
    The little dive bar they were in looked like it hadn't been visited by a Health Official in years. He had seen a sign but didn't really not the name. "Rosie's"? "Roxie's"? "Robby's"? Some sort of name that started with an "R".
    It didn't matter.
    The faux wood paneling was hidden beneath a marbling of oily, black tar stains, likely from cigarettes or something similar, that creeped up high on the walls and covered the ceiling. The bar itself, a long, single piece of mahogany that was probably the only real piece of wood in the place, was notched and splintered from untold bar fights, knife contests, and general disarray. Lights, barely strong enough to illuminate a fridge, lined bleak looking sitting areas and a few, ratty, ancient billiards tables.
    Worst of all, the whole place stank just as much as the big idiot in front of them from untold eons of cheap whiskey, grease monkeys, and the inevitable vomit of putting too much of both in the same place.
    Hodoshi sighed, glancing at the dozen other men that littered the room at various points. As his gaze passed over them, each one looked even bigger and dumber than the next. They were all openly staring, their eyes filled with suspicion, hatred, and mistrust.
    He shrugged and glanced back to Mr. Duante.
    "-get the job done?"
    "I assure you, Mr. Felix." Cooper said in an obviously placating manner. "My employer is the best. If not, we would not have been sent here. Now if you please?"
    "What. Is the job. You fucking imbecile." Hodoshi said, his annoyance beginning to flare hotter.
    Mr. Duante stared at him for a brief second before flatly declaring, "No. I'm not working with this fucking crip'."
    The man appeared to have more to say, but made the mistake of turning his back to him.
    You're right. Hodoshi thought to himself. We won't be working together.


    "You are aware the police are coming, Mr. Hodoshi?" Cooper asked as they walked down the side alley, weaving casually by large cardboard boxes and overflowing rubbish bins.
    "Wouldn't surprise me."
    "No concerns then?"
    "They won't find anything interesting."
    "We made quite a mess. It wouldn't surprise me if the entire block heard the commotion."
    "Good for them."
    Cooper stared at him for a moment before realizing his perceived mistake.
    "I apologize, sir."
    "Don't be an idiot. I know what you meant by it."
    Hodoshi took a moment to wipe the remaining blood off his hands along with a few specs that had flicked across the cuff of his suit before continuing.
    "Your statement was correct and nothing to be ashamed of. I was not exactly quiet."
    "You were not." his associate confirmed.
    They moved through alley without further comment until they reached a street several blocks over.
    "Alright, what now?" Hodoshi asked, his gaze wandering across the surprisingly busy area. It seemed they'd found some manner of open-air market. People were wandering too and fro and the entire place was lined with hastily constructed shacks selling all manner of different items under the haze of marijuana smoke and bead lights that ran the length of the street.
    "Well, I don't think Adolpho will be particularly thrilled about the Horsemen..."
    "He'll get over it. We can just call it free advertising."
    "All the same, I suppose we should report it and see if there's someone less taxing to deal with."
    "I don't doubt he knows already and there's no job pressing enough to go running off to. Let's get dinner. My treat. Then we'll deal with the golden haired prick."
    "Of course, sir."
    "What do you think? Ramen or Southern? Could definitely go for some Carolina Short Ribs." Hodoshi asked as he glanced around at a number of shacks near the end of the road that seemed to all be selling different foods. He could easily make out Bar-B-Que in sprawling, maroon letters across the banner of one.
    "Frankly, I'd prefer something with vegetables."
    "Surprise. Surprise." he snarked the thinner man. "We'll look. Maybe there's somewhere with some vegan options."
    "Thoughtful as always, sir."
    "Well, mom told me that if I wanted a bunny, I'd have to take care of it."
    Cooper, a smirk playing off his lips, wiggled his nose and upper lip slightly, and Hodoshi let out an unrestrained laugh. They disappeared into the crowd a moment later, their mind set on food, just as the police arrived to find the eviscerated corpses of a dozen, heavily armed bikers several blocks away.


====

(Hello Lovelies. I wanted to thank you all for being so patient. The last month has been a hell of a rough ride, but I'm finally back on the wagon. With that said, I wanted to open up with an idea I've been playing around with. I'm not sure how long lasting it will be, but it's been in the back of my head and exploring it seemed like a good way to flex my writing muscle again. Don't worry, my Little Island Tales are soon to come, but I figured I'd warm up on a newer project rather than produce garbage when it comes to continuing L.I.T. Keep your ear to the ground, more to come shortly. Love you all.)

Little Island Tales (Working Title) - Part 1

    In this great, big world of ours, many people often fail to notice the little things in life. When they do, even more people seem to think, "How important are they, really? They're so little!" They never take the time to appreciate what wonderful qualities those little things might have. And what they might accomplish if given the chance.
    Just take a coconut for example.
    Many people know that coconuts are tasty and nutritious. What many people don't know, or perhaps don't even imagine is possible, is that the hair of coconuts, or coir, can be used to make rope. The meat can be used as food or even to make oil. Not only that, but coconuts are wonderfully hard and their shells can be made to make pots and dishware.
    They also make a satisfying little drum if hollowed out correctly.
    Diego might have appreciated that more if one hadn't hit him directly on the head.
    And if it had been hollow.
    CLUNK!
    "OW!" Diego yelped, rubbed his head where the hard little coconut had just hit.
    The coconut was rolling away harmlessly in the sand, but Diego was far too preoccupied with the quickly growing lump on his head to care.
    "I told you not to sit under the tree." Ka'lani said with a little laugh.
    Her voice was mocking but, seeing the little girl with the stick in one hand and the rather sharp knife in the other, he decided it was best not to say what came to mind. He didn't want to add injury to insult as it were.
    Instead, he opted for the more mature response.
    "I told you not to sit under the tree, Diego." Diego said in a high pitched, equally derisive tone, still rubbing his head.
    Ka'lani's eyes narrowed and she gripped the base of the stick a little more tightly.
    Diego considered for a minute. He could probably only annoy her a little bit more before he had to worry about life and limb.
    However, given he didn't much feel like getting stabbed today, he leaned back against the trunk of the coconut tree and glanced out towards the ocean. The waters were crystalline blue, glittering in the failing sunlight, and he could just make out the gulls drifting on the afternoon thermals. Their white bodies were barely visible against the burning oranges and crimson reds of the sunset.
    "You know," Ka'lani began as she shaved off a large slice of wood from the stick. "You're pretty stupid. I did tell you not to sit there."
    "I wanted to lean on the tree. And you're an idiot."
    "Well, you're ugly."
    "You're fat."
    "And you smell."
    "Not as much as you."
    They both traded vicious glances but were only able to hold their 'serious' faces for only a half a moment before breaking down in giggles. They were both thirteen at this point, but they'd been making fun of each other for as long as Diego could remember.
    In actuality, Ka'lani was far from stupid or fat. Only an inch shorter then him, her lean frame, bronze skin, long, black-brown hair, and nearly golden eyes of her heritage made her stand out from the other students in his school. And, if that didn't help, the fact that she was one of the smartest people in class really drove the nail home.
    Still, it wouldn't do for her to think he respected her or anything.
    "So what are you making again?" Diego asked, looking down to the stick and the knife in her hand once more.
    "I already told you this." Ka'lani said in a sarcastic, sing-song voice.
    "Yea, but I don't listen to what you say. You know that."
    "And that's my fault why?"
    "Because you're stupid."
    "Clearly, not as much as you." she said, without looking up.
    He watched her for a moment more. His gaze drifted back and forth from Ka'lani, her knife, and her stick back to the sun which was disappearing past the horizon. The failing light was burning away the orange and black in favor of deep purple and indigo dotted with pinpricks of glittering white as the stars first light shown in the sky.
    "It's a flute." Ka'lani finally offered.
    "A flute? Don't you have one already?"
    "Am I not allowed to have two flutes?"
    "I guess not." Diego shrugged.
    "That's right." she said with a terse nod. "Besides, it's not for me."
    "Who's it for?" he asked absently as he watched flames ignite one by one along the beach.
    They were just beginning to light the torches for the bay.
    Ka'lani shrugged, but he didn't see it.
    "Who's it for?" Diego asked again, only now looking at her.
    "Doesn't matter." she said dismissively with another shrug.
    It was getting dark now as more and more of the sky was consumed by inky blackness and more stars came out to play. He could only see a glint of the blade as she slid the knife into the leather holster on her hip.
    Ka'lani stood up, dusted herself off, and offered him a hand.
    "I want to know: who's it for?" he asked again.
    Diego wasn't sure why it mattered, but for some reason the prospect made his stomach churn. Why would Ka'lani be making a flute for someone? Why wouldn't she tell him who it was?
    "Now I'm never going to tell you." she said teasingly.
    She offered her hand one more time, but he didn't take it.
    "Come onnnnnn." he whined playfully. "Kaaaaaa'laaaaaniiiii."
    "Nope." she said and retracted her offer.
    Instead, she turned and started walking back towards the village.
    "Kaaaaa'laaaaaaaaaaniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii." Diego whined again, more to annoy her than anything else now, and quickly chased after her.
    A moment later, they were walking side by side through the growing darkness of the white sand beach. Ahead of them, the last of the torches had been lit and the warm, glowing fires made the little village nestled at the base of the mountain looking like a flicking beacon in the growing blackness of a moonless night.


---

(Hello Lovelies, you might notice that this is a not a continuation of Uncanny Valley and is also a bit different than my normal tone. In short, I'm writing a story that might be kid friendly...we'll really see how everything turns out. I was inspired because a coworker had their son at work and, his son being bored and me being me, asked if I had a book he could borrow. It turned out I only had a 'Resident Evil' book which the boy quickly declined due to the presence of harsh language and tones despite wanting to get to the monsters and zombies. I intend to double back to Uncanny Valley since I will be using that as the root for the game I'm playing around with....however for now I want to ride the wave, so to speak, and see what comes of this little island tale.)

Uncanny Valley - Part 1

    The sounds of electronics waking, gas hissing, and alarms blaring brought him to consciousness.
    He was cold inside as if he'd been frozen for an eternity and even in waking couldn't be warm. He couldn't feel anything. His limbs and fingers refused to work how he wanted. They were heavy as lead, tingling only ever so slightly with a faint buzz like electricity.
    Leaning forward from his metal coffin, the previously sealed tube, Adam coughed hard.
    It did little to help his condition, but at least he was still alive.
    His eyes didn't work though. His vision was bleary.
    Where am I?
    He could vaguely recall a brief moment of people standing above him. He had been on a table: cold and hard. Who were they? Doctors? Surgeons? Someone had been working on him but he couldn't remember how or why. He remembered the hot, bright lights and the sensation of their hands digging around in his chest.
    Tenderly, he reached up and touched where he remembered those hands had been. He found nothing. Not even a scar.
    No wound.
    Had it been a dream?
    "kkkkZZT!"
    Above him, a speaker chirped to life.
    "Hello? Hello?! Can you hear me?" the voice of a terrified young woman called out.
    The man jumped, gasping in surprise at the sound over the loud-speaker. His numb hands latched onto the sides of the tube and he gagged in shock.
    The woman continued overhead unabated.
    "Oh please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead." she rattled frantically over the sound of someone tapping ferociously on a keyboard before suddenly. "YES! You're alive! He'saliveyou'realive!"
    The man's breath hitched in his throat and he found himself staring up at the loud speaker. His vision was clearing but he couldn't process what was happening.
    "Can you hear me?" she asked, her voice softening but still high strung. "If you can hear me, please say something. Please?"
    For a long minute, he thought about that request. How does one speak? Something about lungs and a tongue. A breath and a thought. He coughed twice more before the words formed with little coherence as to their meaning.
    "H-H-Here. I'm h-here."
    No response.
    "H-Here." he tried again. "Hello?"
    Still nothing.
    He was trying to form the words again, to think what to say and how to say it, when the loudspeaker again chirped to life.
    "I can hear...something. But it's not really coming through. It's just static." the woman said, her voice hollow through the speaker as she, once again, seemed to pound away on a keyboard. "Something didn't go wrong did it? No? No? Ok. Ooookay."
    She seemed to giggle almost hysterically before turning her attention back to him.
    "Ok. Just give me a second to think..."
    The man stared at the loudspeaker for a few moments more before looking around. The room he was in was sterile and empty, devoid of anything warm or human even in appearance. Nothing but machinery; hanging tools, dangling wires, medical tables, and more. There were a few other large tubes like the one he had woken up in, but they all appeared empty.
    He was just about to climb out when he heard the woman return.
    "Ok. I got it. If I remember right, there's a little security office down the hall from the recovery lab. There should be a mic in there. We can try again when you find it."
    "Okay." he agreed, though he wasn't sure why since she'd already said she couldn't hear him.
    Weakly, his limbs still heavy, the man pulled himself forward out of the tube.
    It was only as he stepped out onto the tiled metal floor that he finally realized he wasn't as cold as he thought he was. The floor was. Not only that, but wasn't wearing anything.
    "F-f-fuck." he rattled out hoarsely, his teeth chattering involuntarily.
    Glancing around the rather spartan room, he saw very little in the way of anything helpful. More wires. More tubes. More bits and bobs of electronics and gizmos that he had no hope of ever understanding. Things and stuff. Medical equipment and robotics.
    However, as he padded across the icy tile floor wondering if he would be the first person he knew of to freeze to death in a naked and alone in a hospital room, he found small box of various garments in a cupboard near the front.
    Hospital pants and gowns did little to offer much protection, but they were still sealed and sanitary. He threw on several sets of both followed by two pairs of non-slip socks that he found in the bottom of the box.
    All in all, the layers made him look a touch ridiculous, but they at least helped him feel more like a person and less like a meat popsicle.
    Hesitantly, he exited out the only door in the room and, despite any creeping thoughts of monsters or aliens waiting to spring, he found himself in a perfectly ordinary hallway. There were a number of doors in either direction and the hall to the right curved out of sight a couple dozen yards away but that was it. With the exception of a small plastic sign, there was nothing that stood out.

<---                     Assembly

<---  WetWear Integration 

Recovery

Security                      -->

Management               -->

    Following the sign, the man made his way down the right hall.

    Many of the doors that he passed were labeled with letters and numbers. "AH-321" and "AH-322" went up sequentially on one side while "R-5" dropped down to "R-1" before he reached the curve in the hall. Just around the bend, a heavy set door that stood out with its black and yellow striped frame and "SECURITY - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" blazoned in small, blocky letters stood out from the others he'd walked by.

    Only one problem...

    There was no door handle.

    The man walked up to the door and simply stared at it. How was he supposed to open it? There was no handle or any other obvious means to pry it open. The door itself was set into the door frame and was likely made of heavier stuff than he had in him. What was he supposed to do?

    He glanced around the empty, seemingly endless hall to no effect. There didn't seem to be anyone around.

    "Hello?" he called out in vain.

    No one answered.

    It was then that he saw the security panel set into the wall. It was slim and recessed into the metal, but stood out by its jet black coloring and small, red LED that glew brightly even in the fluorescent glare of the hall.

    And, as he stared at it wondering what even to DO with this knowledge, he watched as the red LED turned green with a soft chime. The door slide open with a woosh and inside a bay of computer monitors lit up.

Birthday - Part 1

    With a scream, Ludwig' legs gave out from beneath him and dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
    His arms were locked and his jaw was spasming against the electric current that was arcing through his body, setting his nerves on fire. However, the pain wasn't severe, just restrictive.
    Ludwig's scream was more of defiance than anything else.
    Staff Sergeant Coughlin smirked and gave the downed private a swift kick in the ass. Not hard, but enough to get his attention through the haze of the zapper.
    "What the hell did I tell you about checking your corners?" she said with a disciplinary tone. "That's the third time this month."
    Ludwig growled in response, but given his locked jaw, she doubted he'd be able to say anything intelligible.
    She moved on.
    Coughlin crossed an alley and ducked under an over hang. She could hear the patrol moving slowly and carefully. That was good. But it did annoy her that she could hear them at all. She'd have to chew them out for that.
    Slithering under the low cover of old supply crates, she creeped to the edge and saw an entire fireteam.
    Gorman, Xi, Nunez, and Quinn were all in the alley not twenty meters away. Quinn and Xi were quietly bickering over something...that was hardly new. Corporal Quinn was fireteam leader, but that didn't stop Xi from trying to interject her will and be an all around pain in the ass.
    The flip side was that Gorman and Nunez were waiting quietly, guns trained on the empty alley. Their eyes were scanning the gloomy fog like hungry raptors.
    But the bitching had them distracted.
    She'd have to talk to them about that too.
    Pulling the shock grenade, she yanked the pin hard, but held on to it. Cooking the fuse inside for an extra second or two. And, once she felt the timing was right, she slid the grenade along the wet stone floor right between the four of them.
    She was already disappearing into the darkness when Nunez frantically scream "GRENADE!"
    Of course, they didn't have time to react. The cooked grenade went off before they had so much as twitched.
    All four hit the ground with shouts of anger and shock promptly followed by the clatter of armor on stone.
    Coughlin was tempted to give them all a quick kick like she had with Ludwig, but restrained herself. There was still one man unaccounted for and she'll be damned if he wasn't the biggest threat.
    Dixon.
    Sergeant Bullock's fireteam had been dealt with pretty easily, although they at least put up more of a fight than Corporal Quinn's had. They had been ready and focused and had gotten a few pot shots off before she zapped them.
    Kuroba's team on the other hand...
    She had found Kuroba and Cooper stalking the alleys with Cooper bitching about 'just letting them go'. After quickly disabling both of them, she realized that Ludwig and Dixon were unaccounted for.
    It wasn't the first time it had happened. Neither of them played well with others and Ludwig had been taken out just as easily as Kuroba, but Dixon was another story.
    Sliding from the cover, her eyes scanned the foggy rooftops.
    Nothing. Just darkness.
    For the first time in the drill, she felt her heart rate increase. Her squad was good and they all knew the reason she put them through these exercises was to make them even better. No. To make them the best. But there was something about Dixon that always stood out.
    Something predatory.
    Something frightening.
    The Designated Marksman had risen through the ranks faster than any other soldier she had commanded. He'd been put through sniper school immediately after boot due to his aptitude and passed with colors not shortly after. While he'd been on his own sniper team, he'd been busted down and reassigned to Coughlin for 'classified reasons'. She'd raised holy hell about not being told why, but was still quickly satisfied with the results he provided.
    Coughlin glanced down on the readout for her zapper-rifle, confirmed, and started slowly moving through the alleys; keeping to as much cover as she could find.
    The man was a hunter through and through. While he had a bad tendency of breaking off from his fireteam, often with Ludwig going along to act as his unofficial spotter, she couldn't argue with the results. Honestly, they were a little scary sometimes.
    But he got the job done.
    And so, for the sixth time in the last second, her eyes scanned the rooftops and the windows.
    Little did she know that her own knowledge of the DM was working against her. She was so focused above that she failed to think of her own trick being used against her. Down the alley, a good fifty meters out, a single rifle barrel was extended through a large pile of garbage.
    She'd passed by it earlier, literally meters away, when she'd felled Ludwig.
    He just hadn't been ready to strike yet.
    And so, as she stalked, and as she hunted, Dixon held the rifle steady. He had walls on all sides, appropriate camouflage, and, in this environment, only a single target.
    He squeezed the second trigger.
    Coughlin only saw the glint of the barrel a split second before the gunshot.
    She hit the ground screaming in fury as the electricity arced through her body.
    A few moments later, her nerves shot and her body smoking, the dark-skinned sniper appeared over her; his rifle slung over his shoulder, his eyes malicious.
    "Happy Birthday, Staff Sergeant." Dixon said condescendingly with an outstretched hand to help her up.

Survivors - Part 1

    Blip. Blip. Blip.
    Assistant Director Cisneros stared absent-minded at the acrid liquid as it dripped, drop by drop, down into his mug. The local crony here, Dr. Patang, had tried to convince him that this was this was the best cup of joe on the Daedalus.
    While Cisneros didn’t doubt the good doctor’s honesty; the little brown-nosing tool was too self-interested to not give full disclosure. However he did doubt that the liquid shit dripping out of the archaic machine counted as coffee.
    And he damn sure knew it didn’t smell like it.
    Cisneros glanced around the room as he waited for the stinking drink to finish brewing.
    All around him, cheap furniture, bad walling, dirty carpet, or gunmetal plating. Here and there an uncomfortable chair sat or a half-assed painting hung on the wall; really retracting from the environment more than they gave. It gave him the feeling of being in a lower-end office that had been shoved into a metal box.
    And really, it wasn’t far from the truth.
    Built cheap and built big, the Daedalus was one of two floating laboratories utilized by the corporation’s Xenobiology department. It housed just over two thousand biologists, botanists, chemists, computer experts, robotics technicians, and god knows what else plus the staff and crew that kept the entire dump heap in the air. It wasn’t the fastest or nicest ship in the galaxy, but with her sister, the Icarus, the pair of ships were some of the biggest and probably some of the only used as mobile laboratories and processing cities.
    At least until a month ago.
    Now the Daedalus flew alone in its lazy orbit around the Kaprelli system’s deep violet sun surrounded by the silence of space.
    Cisneros reached down and plucked up the now full mug. He took a swig only to grimace at the sour flavor. It tasted just about as good as it had smelt and, based on the look of shock and horror on Dr. Patang's face, he was glad his distaste with the drink was not lost on the good doctor.
    "I'm so sorry, sir." he quickly shot out. "I swear, it really is the best on the ship. The company doesn't really consider fresh cups to be pri-"
    "Enough, Doctor." Cisneros said flatly. "You'll forgive me if I tell you that I'm not in the mood right now."
    "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." Dr. Patang said as he adorned that same, placid, stupid smile he'd worn since Cisneros arrived eight hours ago.
    "I don't have a great deal of time." Cisneros continued in the same, no-bullshit tone. "So why don't we get this little tour started so I can get on with a very long list of other things that need to get done."
    "Of course, sir." Dr. Patang repeated again and motioned towards the door of the grimy little kitchen.
    The pair made their way through the halls of the Daedalus at a leisurely pace as Dr. Patang prattled on about meaningless inanities. Cisneros could not care less. His visit here was far from routine and he had no interest in listening to small talk.
    He wanted to hear about their findings.
    Of course, it was probably sheer confidentiality that was keeping Dr. Patang from prattling on about that. Still, Cisneros had a lean in his step and they made their way towards the C-Deck labs with more speed than any other visit would have been afforded.
    The mystery of Icarus's destruction the prior month had nagged at him since it happened. And now he might get some answers.
    Originally, it came as a complete shock. The ship had just performed a relatively routine stop to a newly discovered world known as 'Bruni'. The planet was mildly interesting for the fact it was, by all intents and purposes, considered a jungle planet despite its severe climate; prone both to blistering heat and destructive electrical storms.
    Within a matter of hours from the stop, an SOS had been issued from the Icarus.
    An hour after that, the ship was flown directly into a sun with a very small contingent of its population escaping in lifeboats.
    The incident had bothered Cisneros for the month since it had occurred. Now, with several of the life boats captured and brought aboard the Daedalus, his curiosity was peaked as to what the scientists had discovered.
    Most notably because there hadn't been any reported survivors so far.
    So whatever they had found clearly wasn't human. Or, at least, not living ones.
    Dr. Patang offered a single open eye to the scanner next to the C-Deck air locks while simultaneously holding a thumb to a reader and a badge to a scanner. C-Deck, like a number of the locations on the Daedalus, was high security and set up with multiple security points. Additionally, the labs were completely sealed off from the rest of the ship in what was, for lack of a better analogy, a steel box with a single airlock that led into the ship primary.
    This fact only added to Cisneros' surprise when the heavy lead and steel door slid aside to reveal four hardskinned marines standing at attention, rifles ready, standing in the four corners of the inner airlock.
    He glanced at Dr. Patang with an obvious look of surprise.
    "We have...concerns." the doctor said flatly, dropping the cheerful, tour-guide tone he'd been using since Cisneros arrived.
    Cisneros' eyes narrowed but he said nothing. As much of a brown-nosing little shit as Dr. Patang had been, the presence of marines suggested they had found something much more exciting than a few corpses in a lifeboat.
    The two men submitted to a thorough search and ID by one of the marines; a man who identified himself as Sergeant Holmes. They were then led to the next room: a hastily thrown together decontamination room that the inner airlock would have normally been used for had it not been filled with combat armor and firearms.
    Once deloused, they both made their way down a long hallway lined by observation chambers.
    "Now that we're out of ear shot, would you care to share what exactly your team found on the life boats, Doctor?"
    "We're not sure." he said, once again adopting that slight lit to his voice again, but not nearly to the degree he had been earlier.
    "You're not sure?" Cisneros echoed after rolling the possibilities about in his mind.
    "Whatever they are is biologic. But after that, it's unlike anything we've found before."
    Cisneros said nothing as he was led through a maze of corridors. He could see scientists working in labs on any number of different experiments; however Dr. Patang shot right by them.
    At the far end of one hall, the Doctor approached a heavy door labeled 'XL-322". Directly below it. "Restricted Personnel Only." and a keypad. The Doctor entered in an unseen code, scanned his badge again, and motioned for Cisneros to enter.
    They were standing in the viewing area of an operating theater with a door on the far end of the room. The glass was artificially dimmed and Cisneros suddenly had a fleeting sense of claustrophobia in the dark room.
    "This is all well and interesting, Doctor. But can we can on with the theatrics?"
    "Sorry, sir. As I said, sir. We're not sure what we found." Dr. Patang continued as he raised the lights and revealed the laboratory behind the triple-state glass and the monster within.
    Cisneros took an unconscious step back from the now clear glass.  
    What the hell WAS that?
    He felt his heart jump into his throat and, for the first in a very long time, he felt a sudden wash of fear fall over him.
    "But if you've got any ideas..." Dr. Patang said with the first snark the Assistant Director had heard from him, "We're all ears."