CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I was an Astronaut for the Air Force. In 1979 we went to rescue a Soviet Space Station" Creepypasta

Episode Date: April 24, 2021

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It has been 42 years since these events happened, and I really don't care what the government is going to do if I spill the beans. Sure, I signed that non-disclosure agreement and was sworn into secrecy all those decades ago. But, I don't give a damn. I'm 83 years old and have lived a wonderful life. So, come and get me. I'm ready to meet my maker. With that said, I really doubt it that the Pentagon is going to send a kill team to eliminate an old man. who can barely walk a few feet without his cane.

Now, I could begin from the top when I started my Air Force career, but all of that is just useless detail. I will, however, give you a quick rundown of my life in the Air Force Astronaut Corps before the important events of 79. After eight years of service in the branch, I joined the top secret unit of the Air Force in 1971. I graduated his training program in 1972

and was sent on my first space mission in 71, after spending a year and a half doing office work and writing research papers for the Air Force's Orbital Warfare Research Team. My flight history is not really impressive compared to the other Air Force astronauts, but I guess you wouldn't really know that. It's not like you have the flight manifest to my peers to compare with. My service history prior to 1979 was Blue Gemini 26 and 74, Blue Apollo 6 and 75, Blue Gemini 31 in 76, and Blue Apollo 11 in 17.

The Blue Gemini missions were essentially boring orbital peacekeeper missions, with us eyeing our Soviet counterparts, while they did the same to us. The Blue Apollo missions on the other hand were the exciting ones. These were the missions we astronauts sought for, and I was lucky enough to take part in two of them. The idea of building a moon base always had a certain kind of appeal that attracted us. Yes, that's right. A moon base on the far side of the moon may sound like science fiction to you but I can tell you now that back in the 70s

we were launching two missions a year to make it happen Too bad all our hard work went to waste After the incident of 85 But that's not the story I wanted to talk about No matter how bad the 85 incident was I wasn't there And I did not experience its horrors firsthand It's not my story to tell

However, the one I did witness was equally terrible and horrifying. I still wake up with nightmares of it, and it was my inability to cut away from these horrors that ultimately ended my career in the Air Force. You see, in 1978, after finishing Blue Apollo 11, I was assigned to the latest program of the Air Force's roster, the Orbital Space Barracks, or OSB. Essentially, the plan was to create an orbital

base that would hold six personnel, four of which will be space-trained special forces operators from the Army's Ranger Regiment. These Rangers will be trained to conduct spaceboarding operations and zero-gravity combat in closer quarter environments, with the overall goal of learning how to storm the Soviet Space Station and secure it within minutes. In an actual operation, we Air Force astronauts would operate the base and maneuver it to intercept the target space station. Then, depending on the situation, we would either have to help. hard dock with it, or maneuver close enough for the Rangers to don their spacesuits, conduct a spacewalk, and use their specialized equipment in order to forcefully enter the station.

Selected as one out of two astronauts to first work in the station, I became the mission's orbital base pilot, and was subordinate to Major Howard MacArthur, the mission commander. Joining us were Captain Jonathan Rogers, the Rangers commander, Master Sergeant Gerald Newman, specialist Ryan Camberlane and specialist Andrew Reynolds. On 1979, all six of us lifted off from midway launch base in a crew X20 dinosaur and began our journey to the orbital station, which was nicknamed Phoenix. The base itself was fairly big and was made out of two Saturn V third stage boosters that were docked and welded together.

However, after the first week, I wished it was bigger. despite looking large from the outside, the inside was a different story. A lot of the space was taken up by maneuvering propellant, which took up 40% of the station. That left us with 60% of space left, with 30% of which used for space, leaving the remaining 30 for habitation. I'm going to tell you now, it wasn't enough. Now, the Air Force did say that they did their studies and it told them that the space left was more than enough for six humans to live in for six months. However, with the rangers always training and the US Air Force personnel zooming about in order to maintain the

station, we often intersected one another and interrupted each other's work. It took us a month before we finally got a schedule that allowed the least amount of interruptions. After the third month, with a standard routine made and inter-service friendships created, life in the station was good. But one day, we got a transmission that would bring us into a mission that we trained for, but never expected to actually do. Pomoch, pomoch. The caller was garbled, but the one word was clear. Having studied Russian, I knew that it was a cry for help.

As part of our mission, the station regularly monitored Soviet space communications. Because of this, part of my schedule was to spend three hours in the communication station listening to Soviet chatter. Switching through the various known Soviet frequencies, I recorded everything that I heard before filing them and making use of our latest communication encryption system to transmit the info down to Van derbyrace base. On that day, I just switched our radios to tune into 1-1.75 megahertz. A frequency we knew that was used by the Soviet orbital piloted station 10, often referred to as Alma's 10. Stunned by what I heard, I quickly called Howard, and gestured him to put on his headset to listen to what I was picking up.

Just as he did so, the same cry for help repeated. Pomosh, pomop! The last call was cut off, and, after waiting for ten minutes, no new transmission came. We better contact Vandenberg and inform them of this, was Howard's only remark, and before long we got a reply from them. Information received, Phoenix, continued to monitor the Soviet frequency and update us of any new developments. So, we did.

But there was nothing new to report. After an hour with nothing new happening, it ended up that it was Fendemberg that was going to update us. Phoenix, this is Fandembourg, do you copy? Fandembourg, this is Phoenix, we copy, Howard replied. Phoenix, it seems we have a request from the Soviet ambassador in Washington, who passed on a message from their Ministry of Defense. Apparently, at exactly 1021 GMT plus 3, the Soviet Space Force received a distress call from their Almaz 10 space station.

This is the same transmission you intercepted. The reason for the distress call is unclear, and they were unable to get any relevant information from the operator's panicked cries. At 1023, all communications from Almas 10 was lost, and the Soviets were unable to get vital signs from any of the six-member crew or telemetry from the station. Because of this they fear the worst Due to the direness of the situation And because there are no nearby Soviet spacecraft to wait Almas 10 The Soviets are requesting our assistance They are aware we have a spacecraft in an orbit

Close to that of Almas 10 And that's you Because of that they are requesting that you rendezvous With a station and conduct a visual inspection If you can they want you to dock and assist their cosmonauts in peril Damn I said, under my breath. They probably concluded that we have boarding equipment here.

They are also reminding us of the rescue agreement in the outer space treaty, and they trust that we abide by it, and they mean every part of it. They specifically emphasised the part where we rescue their personnel and that we return every part of their space vehicle. We ran this through with a Pentagon, and they agreed that we should assist the Soviets and rescue their cosmonauts. They also informed us that no attempt to steal Soviet technology,

or equipment should be made, or else risk backfire. So, take nothing but pictures. Because of these sudden events, a plan for the operation is currently being drawn up, and we will brief you about it within half an hour. Over. Roger that, Pendenberg. We are aware of the situation, and we go into high alert. Over.

Howard replied, shaking his head. Risk backfire, huh? He muttered, turning towards me. The ambassador probably hinted that they knew we have nukes. in some of our stations up here, and threatened to reveal it to the UN if we don't abide by their request. Well, those nooks are only there because the Reds did it first. I had pointed out to him, which we still failed to confirm, Howard reminded me.

Aside from Soviet transmissions mentioning their nooks in space, we are yet to have physical evidence of them existing. The Soviets, on the other hand, probably have photos of our nooks, especially after a careless installation of them in Freedom Station. They probably been holding back this information. until the right moment, which seems to be now. I nodded my head. He was probably right.

But after a few seconds, I started wondering about the whole situation. It's strange, isn't it? I asked him. What strange? Howard replied, the Soviets blackmailing us. I think that is a pretty common occurrence. No, not that, I scoffed.

I mean, the request for help. The reds. must be really desperate if they're asking us to help them. Howard just shrugged. Maybe, he said. Then again, maybe they just care a lot for their cosmonauts. I just hope that if something like that happens to us, the Air Force would show the same care in their hearts, which I doubt.

With that, he made his leave, voting away to inform the rangers of the situation. We worked fast, so that within three hours after the briefing, we were approaching Alma's 10 and preparing the dock with it. Alma's 10 was a big station. Do you know Mer? Well, imagine that, but two times bigger. Built as a modular type station, Alma's 10 had various sections popping out in all directions,

making the whole place look like an orbiting housepipe system. The station also had various dock imports used for a large variety of rules, from crew entry to resupply operations. The docking port connected to the main command module was our target entry point. As the station's pilot, it was my job to perform the docking maneuver, which I did from a canopy located near the main docking port. This was a delicate task, and one wrong move could end up with us slamming into the Almers 10, which in turn would result to damage equipment, concessions,

and a large number of hole breaches and leaks in the station's body. Because of this, I had to be very careful. Luckily for everyone, I spent countless hours in the simulator back on earth, practicing for this very moment. In addition to that, I'd two successful live docking actions over the past three months. It was safe to say that I was no rookie, but there was no excuse for me to be careless, since anything could go wrong during these maneuvers. Carefully controlling the stick with my gloved hand, I leaned a bit forward to conduct a visual check on how close we were. In doing so, I accidentally bumped my helmet on the aluminum silicate glass pane of the canopy.

I muttered a curse at this, feeling a bit stupid. Working in our spacesuits was hard, especially when you had to do a delicate task as docking. The suits, large, bulge and cumberson, was not exactly something you wanted on when you needed to do fine control movements. However, protocol was protocol, and we had to have them on. When the procedure for docking with a Soviet space station was planned out, the authors had it in the minds that we would be facing a hostile target, one that would be firing guns or missiles at us. In that scenario, a single hit would rip a hole in the phoenix

and decompressed the air out of the station. If that happened, then it meant death for anyone who wasn't suited up. Thus, it was necessary to have everyone on board wearing their suits. Of course, given the actual situation we had at the time, our target station was not supposed to be hostile. But headquarters feared that the Soviets had an onboard artificial intelligence on their station, which would automatically lock on and engage spacecraft that it did not identify as friendly. With the Soviets having lost telemetry with the station,

it was unknown if this system was still active. So, as a precaution, we were required to have our spacesuits on. As we got closer to Almas 10, however, it became evidently clear that the station's defense's, was no longer on mine. Then again, I'm not even sure if the station even had an artificial intelligence handling its defenses. Although I can't be sure, they never really declassify this stuff, you know. Happy with the knowledge that no one was going to shoot at us,

I continued my work and got the Phoenix dockingport aligned with that of Alma's 10. Keeping it aligned on the right target, I brought the docking port closer and closer until the gentle sound of metal bumping echoed along the hole. achieving a soft dock, I then flipped a switch to allow the mechanical clamps to grasp the Soviet station's port. Getting all green lights, I informed Howard that we got a good hard dock and was beginning the pressurization of the hallway that connected the two ports. Once this was done, the Rangers would begin their task of entering Alma's 10 and assist the Soviet cosmonauts on the other side. Joining the Ranger team at the hatch of our docking port, I monitored the pressure levels of the hallway, as the Rangers bring up. as the rangers prepared themselves and checked their gear.

Going through their own intricate set of checklist, they checked and double-checked everything, from suit systems to weapons. Yes, I know what you're thinking. This was supposed to be an aid and rescue mission, so why they need for weapons? Why, for safety, of course. It is true that we were here to help the Reds,

but helped them against what? For all we know, they could be a crazed cosmonaut on the other side, floating around and killing his crewmates because he could not stand another day in the cramp station. That was a possibility, and headquarters knew that. So, in order to protect ourselves over such a possibility, the Rangers would go in with weapons armed.

In fact, even we astronauts were ordered to carry our guns, just in case we needed to use them. Only when it was confirmed that the situation was safe, would we and the Rangers put our safeties on and stow away their weapons. Hey, Jonathan said, his voice blaring in my earpiece as he used the local comms network. You checked your weapon yet? Turning to him, I noticed that he was done going through his checks

and was now facing me and gesturing to the hostel on my suit's belt. I glanced at him before shaking my head. Yeah, I told him, just before I went to dock the station. All right, he said, but be sure to check it again. You'll be amazed how many times weapons fail when you need them the most, so it won't hurt checking them as many times. checking them as many times as possible. Not in my thanks, I carefully took up my pistol from its holster and did the necessary checks.

The gyrojet pistol was the standard arm for Air Force astronauts, with a Mark I, 51-Calper pistol being the only one commonly given to us during missions. Firing a rocket propelled bullet at 1,250 FPS, it was essentially the premier firearm used in space. It gave us the same power normal firearms gave, without the annoying recoil. In zero gravity, that means a lot, since recoil can fling a person from one side of the room to the other. The Rangers carried a similar weapon, the Mark I Jirojet carbine, which was essentially the same mechanism, but were the stock in better sights.

Once all the checks were done, and that hallway was confirmed to be fully pressurized and without leaks, Howard came to join us and see the Rangers off. Opening the hatch, Captain Jonathan and his team were just about to float across the hallway, When a loud, an eerie bang reverberated from the other end of the Soviet station's hatch. Thud, thud, thud, thud. Did you guys hear that? Specialist Adrian said. He was at the head of the group assigned a take point,

and was about to head for the hatch when the knocking started. Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud. There it came again, this time louder, faster. It sounded frantic and desperate. Damn, specialist Andrew cursed, those must be the cosmonauts, they must be knocking for help. But why? Adrian asked.

Sergeant Gerald, who'd been silently contemplating and listening as the knocking happened, was the next to speak up to voice's opinions. Maybe they're running out of oxygen in there. A silence met the statement, as everyone in the room felt a sense of dread fill them. The very idea of running out of oxygen in space was in chills that any space varies bones

to try and breathe and breathe only for nothing to fill your lungs. Thinking it now still makes me choke up. It's a terrible way to go, and the whole ordeal was something like torture. Suddenly, another batch of knocking came, this time even louder and numerous than the earlier ones. Thud-thut-thut-thut-thud-thud-thud. Unlike before, however, the banging didn't stop. It continued and continued, no ceasing and only. increasing. It started to sound like more than one person was knocking now. Now, at that

moment in time, I really believed Gerard's conclusion was right, since it made a lot of sense. A micrometeroid must have punctured the station's hull and drastically depressurized the cabins. They would explain what the distress call hours earlier was frantic and why it was suddenly cut off. However, thinking about it decades later, it should have been obvious to me that it didn't make total sense. If they were indeed running out of oxygen, then how come someone was knocking on the hatch right now, many hours after the distress call was made? Sure, maybe some of them managed to don their spacesuits and hold out for a couple of hours, but then that opens up another question. Why did the station go silent? If a cosmonaut or a group of them did indeed

manage to survive the station's loss of oxygen, then how come none of them bothered to contact their ground stations. It didn't make sense, but back then, during the moment, that was none of our concern. We were more worried about the lives of those on the other side, and we wanted to save them. Adrenaline and our own fear blinded us. A sense of urgency now filled us, and thinking that the cosmonauts were indeed choking on their final gasps of air, we decided to quickly open the hatch and help them. Get that hatch open, Jonathan orders. team. Adrian, Gerald, you two get the hatch and open it. Pull whoever's on the other side and get them some air to breathe. Andrew, you stay here with us. You and me are going to cover them, just in case those

Ruskis are playing us and do something funny. Move. I remember thinking how foolish he was for saying that. Cover them? Against what? Of course, I did not bother asking him that right in his face, but it seems really unnecessary. I guess you could never just get rid of that soldier's instinct. in the end it turned out his instinct was right quickly flinging themselves across the hallway Adrian and Gerald reoriented themselves

so that their boots made contact with the hatch and absorbed their forward movement their impact made a loud thump on the hatch which seemed to attract the attention of those on the other side as the banging continued to increase I started feeling uneasy about this the knocking was very eerie and having its sound vibrate across the docking fort

made me feel unnerved. There was just something about it that was scaring me. Maybe my mind was imagining myself in that situation. Maybe it was a thought that someone was dying there so close to rescue. I did not know what it was at the time. So I never realized that it was actually my flight or fight senses warning me of the imminent danger. Wasting no time, Adrian immediately grabbed the lever for the hatch

and used all his strength to pull down the tight mechanism. Once it opened, however, the sight I saw was not what I expected. What I expected were thankful cosmonauts rushing in and grasping sweet breaths of air. What I saw was the face of terror rushing in to spread its vile darkness. Hollow, empty eye sockets, wide, open mouths that clearly indicated a broken jaw, torn and tattered jumpsuits, rotting flesh that exposed muscles and muscles bone, and a thick black liquid oozing out of every orifice and opening in their bodies. That was what the cosmonauts looked like. That was what was left of the cosmonauts.

At first, I thought there were corpses, dead, lifeless corpses. Well, they were indeed dead. Lifeless, though. I am not sure I could say that. The first one lunged through the hatch, just as it was opening and barely one third done. It's how to the same. or muscle-wrapped skeleton that resembled a hand, darted towards Adrian and quickly caught his leg. There was no saving him as he was pulled towards this creature, as more hand-like appendages grabbed a hold of him and pulled him inside their Soviet station. What the hell is that thing? Damn it! Get it off of me! Captain, he's pulling me in! Came Adrian's cry on the local comms network.

I remember seeing his helmet bump onto the barely open hatch as his screams of panic and cries for help continue to echo in our comms. Hold on, kid, I got you, Geroot said, as I watched him make a grab for the Ranger. However, the pull by these creatures was too strong and quick, and Adrian disappeared into the darkness of the other side before Geroot could do anything. Damn, I can't see an air, continued Adrian's calls. I can't switch my light. Damn, it's too dark. I think there are more of them.

Damn it! I could tell that Gerold was contemplating and rescuing his teammates, as he seemed like he was orienting himself to slip inside. but before any attempts to go in for a rescue could be done, and lunging hand made him think twice. Surprising him, the hand made a grab for his arm, causing him to react and back away. Following his survival instincts,

Gerald used his legs to kick the nearby wall and fling himself back towards where we were. Taking his carbine, he then aimed towards the creature that tried to grab him. By then, the creature was using its hands a scoop of air and swim his way towards Gerald. bits of flesh and muscle were flung off as it did this, as a trail of black liquid marked this path as it moved.

Being careful not to hit anything important, since the gyrojet's bullets could easily penetrate the station's hull, Gerard fired two shots. Both rocket-power bullets were true to the mark and hit the creature's forehead, but it did nothing but leave a large gaping hole that revealed brain matter. I stared at this hole as I felt fear fill my body. It just survived the 51-caliber bullet to the forehead, something that should not have been possible.

These bullets were able to penetrate body armour and spaceship hulls, yet the creature went on, unfazed by the gaping hole on its forehead. Whatever this thing was, it was not something that mere bullets could stop. But that did not stop us from trying. Watching the creature approach and seeing the danger at pose the Newman, Jonathan immediately ordered Andrew to cover the sergeant's retreat as he lifted his own carbine and opened fire. Taking precise shots, the two of them fired and fired.

The sound of the rocket-powered bullets whizzing through the hallway, echoing through the module. Each hit met its mark, taking chunks away from the creature's head. However, it did nothing to stop it. On it went, swimming its way through the air, dead set and getting to Newman. Luckily for the sergeant, the kinetic force of the bullets was enough to slow the creature down, giving him enough time to reach our side. Getting close, Andrew grabbed Newman by the arm and pulled him in. Falling back, the two were covered by Jonathan as the officer continued to fire the creature.

Once again, it slowed it down. By then, the thing had no more head, with only a disgusting writ mess left between its shoulders. A trail of flesh, bone, muscles, brain matter, and a black lid. liquid floated behind it, a testament to the ranger's accuracy. Too bad, it did nothing to stop the thing. Close the hatch, Jonathan said, as he reversed and tapped me on the shoulder. This brought me back to reality, as I realized that my fear had gotten to me and left me frozen. The sight of these horrible creatures, and the sound of agents continued struggling in the comms had essentially paralyzed my mind and left me as nothing but a frightened unlocker.

Cursing myself for my uselessness, I grabbed the handle of the latch and pulled onto it to close the entrance to the hallway. Pulling the lever, I locked its mechanism, which was confirmed by four firm clicks. But just as the hatch locked, the sound of a loud bump echoed from the other side. Thud, thud, thud, thud, the creature was there, and it was knocking on our hatch. Mustering all my courage, I placed my head on the small window of the house. and peered out. What I saw was the creature's tattered neck, black liquid oozing out of the tunnel that was supposed to be the esophagus. Puking it out, the liquid floated freely in the air of the hallway.

Staring, I noticed that it was some sort of thick dark vile that looked more like jelly went up close. It floated carelessly and without reason, before clumping up together. As if each drop had a mind of its own, the liquid did its best to squirm and make its way towards me. Choosing me as a target, the liquid swam towards my direction, only stopping when it splattered itself and the aluminum silicate material of the window. Backing up, I shook my head and stared at the now-covered window. What the hell? I sighed under my breath. Unable to process what I just saw. However, there was no time to think, as the silence was broken by the sound of Jonathan contacting Adrian through the comms.

Adrian, this is Jonathan, can you hear me? There was no reply. I repeat, Adrian, this is Jonathan, can you hear me? Only static replied to him. And for a moment, I thought the Ranger was a goner. What a terrible way to go. To be killed by those creatures. I can only imagine what horrible things they did to him

before he finally succumbed to their assaults and died. Adrian, the Ranger officer repeated, said, this is Jonathan, are you there? Damn it. The whisper-like curse came through the comms, and suddenly hope filled us all. The sound of heavy breathing then followed, as more curses bombarded our comms.

We weren't sure what was happening to Adrian there on the other side, but at least we knew that he was still alive. Damn, Captain, he managed to say, still breathing heavily, but sounding much calmer than earlier. Captain, I... need help here. Adrian, Jonathan shouted, relieved that he had not lost the Ranger yet. Give me a quick sit, Red Ranger. Just hold on there, all right. We'll get you out of there in no time. Then, floating towards one section of our station's wall, he stared at the stolen

Alma's ten blueprints we had on board for the Rangers training. I'm not really sure where I am now, sir, Adrian said, the fear evident in his voice. I think I might be in the main lab, but I'm not sure. I got lost and disoriented when I tried escaping those... those things. I'm mostly all right, though, sir. No damage on my suit. All right, that's good, Adrian. Just hold up in a corner and stay there. We're going in there to get you out. As he spoke, Jonathan studied the map. He was probably formulating a quick plan. Okay, sir, but get here quick, Adrian said. I don't know how long I can... Damn, they're here.

and just stay calm, we'll get to you. Jonathan told him, before turning towards Howard. He was busy communicating to Vandenberg, the events that just transpired. Using a secure comms network used by us officers, he began telling us his concerns. Howard, we need to rescue the kid. The lab is only three modules away from where we're docked. If we go in there now, we might just be able to save him before he gets overwhelmed. I'm sorry, Jonathan.

I don't think we can do that. I just got off with headquarters, and they were ordering us to just undock and get away from here. Howard replied. Undark? Jonathan said with anger. Are they aware that we have a man left behind there? Yes, Captain, they're quite aware the specialist Chamberlain is still in there, but they have considered the situation

and they do not believe that one man is worth risking the whole team or this valuable station. One man? Jonathan hissed. He is not just one man. I'll never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy. That's the Ranger Creed. so we're going to go in there and rescue him.

Do you think that's a good idea, Captain? Howard asked. How about those creatures? How do you plan on dealing with them as you rescue your fellow Ranger? Clearly our bullets don't work. You would know. You shudder them yourself. We'll find a way.

We rangers always do. Jonathan said firmly. As the two were arguing, I could hear the frantic and desperate calls of Jonathan on the other frequency. I knew those two were hearing the same. thing, and I always like to believe that this brought more urgency to Jonathan's and guilt to Howard's. They're all over me, Captain, Adrian shouted.

I can't father them. Damn, my bullets aren't stopping them at all. There was a pause, and all I could hear was his heavy breathing. Damn it, I think one of the bullets is stuck in the chamber. The bullet must have been a dud. Damn it, damn it, they're closing in. The sounds of a hard struggle could then be heard, as Adrian's cries continued. They got me. Captain, help. They got me. Where are you? I can't get them off. Damn it. Damn it. They're tearing open my suit. They're shredding into pieces.

By now, Jonathan had given up an argument with Howard and returned his focus on his stranded ranger. Adrian, we're on our way. Just hang on. Jonathan said, ignoring Howard. Gerald, Andrews, we're going to pick up Adrian. The moment I open this hatch, I want you to shoot up the thing that's been banging on a door. You got it? They gave simultaneous, yes sir, as they followed their orders. Floating towards the hatch, Jonathan placed his hands on the lever, ready to unlock it. But before I could do it, I made a sudden and quick decision. Knowing what awaited us if the hatch was opened, I did what I thought and still believe is right. With one flip at the switch, the clamps holding Phoenix with Alma's ten immediately let go.

As I pulled on the stick to push our station away, a whooshing sound could then be heard on the other side of the other side of the switch. the hatch as the press-rise section was suddenly forced to vent out the air, then there was silence. The steady thud that reverberated from the hatch had stopped. What have you done? Jonathan asked me, rage more intense than anything I'd seen before, or would ever see again, ringing in his voice. I don't know, we would have died. The creature was still on the other side, and we wouldn't have been able to stop it. I tried to stammer the right words, but I could not. I knew that I saved our lives. by doing that, but I also knew

that it may have condemned someone to their death, or a fate worse than death. Jonathan stared at me and seemed ready to kill me, if it weren't for the sound of Adrian's voice interrupting the anger he was feeling. Captain, what just happened? he asked. One moment and those things were all over me, and the next thing I know they were being sucked out of the module we're in.

I would have been forced out too if I didn't grab onto one of the handles just in time. Adrian, Jonathan called. Relief in his voice. To be honest, I was relieved too. He was alive. I didn't kill a man. What's your situation?

Are you all right? I could be better, sir, but I'm mostly okay. I managed a patch of the tear they made with some duct tape and suit pressure is starting to normalise. It's a good thing they've made these things standard issue. Adrian said with a chuckle. Anyway, sir, when are you guys going to pick... Oh, no.

Oh, damn it, damn it! Adrian, what's wrong? There's something in my suit, sir. Damn it. I can feel it inside my suit. Some kind of slimy goo. Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it. I don't know what it's doing, but I can feel it moving inside.

Damn, Jonathan cursed, turning towards me. Dock this station back on the Elmer's. I stared at him. There was no way I was going to do that. I realized what Adrian was talking about. It was the black liquid. I did not know much. about the black liquid, and I still don't know much about it.

But what I did know was that he was alive and deadly. I can't do that, I simply told him, trying to hide the guilt I was feeling. It was then I realized that I didn't save Adrian from death after all. The black liquid is clearly still in the station, and we're risking infecting ourselves if we would go back there. I felt cold and heartless saying that, and yes, the guilt got to me, but I was trying to keep us all alive. Damn it, Jonathan cursed. It's trying to get in me, cried out Adrian.

Damn, I can feel it slipping in. Captain, it's going in everywhere. Some of it's crawling on my neck. Damn it, I can see it now. It's moving into my mouth. Gaggin sounds then feel the comms as Adrian struggled to breathe. I can only imagine how terrible

the experience was for him. Just then, Jonathan did something I did not expect. He raised his carbine and pointed it at me. Dock this station now, or I'll blow your head off. Whoa, I said, shocked and frightened. Okay, Captain, let's try to calm down. Think about what you're doing. No, he said firmly. There won't be anything calm until we have Adrian back on board,

so dock this station now. Captain, you'll be arrested if you don't stop now, I reminded him. I'll be arrested when we get back on Earth, but at least I'll have saved one of my men, so dock us now. Staring at him, before glancing at his carbine, I knew that I had no other choice. Reluctantly, I turned toward my console. I felt angry, though. This man was going to get us all killed, and he didn't realize it.

In the background, the sound of Adrian struggling could still be heard. Doc us quickly, we don't have time to spare, he told me, before changing frequencies to talk to Adrian. Just hang on in there, kid, we'll be that. Whatever he had to say was cut. cut off by three spots of rockets firing. Confused, I turned towards him, only to move back in surprise. His helmet was covered in blood. I cursed, before noticing that Gerald and Andrew were in a similar situation,

helmet visors covered in blood. Right in front of me with three floating dead bodies, and behind them was Howard, gun-drawn and face expressionless. In the urgency of the situation, he'd slipped behind them and resorted to the quickest method at dealing with a mutiny. Damn, idiots, he muttered. Should I just listened to me and followed orders. This is going to be one hell of a mission report we'll have to file later.

Did you really have to shoot Gerald and Andrew too? I asked. Howard shrugged. It was necessary. They would have retaliated so they could avenge Jonathan and save Adrian. He should have just followed orders instead of thrown a tantrum, then maybe he would still be alive, instead of dying a disgraceful death. I didn't say anything.

I didn't know what to say. Instead, I just stared. While in the background, the muffled voice of Adrian still blared in the comms network. Captain, are you there? He said. But there was no reply. Jonathan and his team were dead, and Howard had no plans of talking to the man he planned on leaving behind.

Captain, I don't know what's happening, but I feel strange. I don't feel all right. I feel... I feel hungry. The next couple of minutes was filled with the sounds of Adrian growling before being cut off by the sound of rushing air. My assumption is that he took off his helmet. Why he did that, I don't know. And I don't ever plan on knowing.

We spent the next hour cleaning up the mess and debriefing Vandenberg of the situation. as we did so I could still see the eerie sight of Alma's tent through the various canopies and I swear that I saw some of those creatures floating and drifting in space

once everything was clear and all the information we needed was gathered we were ordered to conduct an orbital maneuver to a lower parking orbit the Soviets we were told have been informed of what had happened and will be taking over recovery operations

why they wanted to recover the station I didn't know, but I was glad that we were finally getting away from it. The next day we were ordered back to Earth, and the moment we landed at Vandenberg, we were immediately quarantined and interrogated for every bit of information we knew. We cooperated, of course, and after two weeks, we were cleared off. After such an intense encounter, it was decided that we should remain grounded for a couple of months. To be honest, I was glad. for this. For 13 months I was assigned to light duty, conducting research and paperwork. I never saw Howard again after that, but I heard he was immediately sent back up after three months of rest.

After my time of light duty, I was ordered to have a psych evaluation. Apparently, they needed a good pilot for a planned 1980 mission to Mars, but after my experience the last time I went up there, It's no shock to say that I failed. I was still too traumatised, and they concluded that a six-month voyage in a spaceship was no place for a man like me. Sick of Reza's duty, and with no future prospects of going up, not that I would have wanted to. I finally decided to quit the Air Force. The next few years were tough, but I did my best to hide my fears and guilt from my friends and family. Nightmares always plagued me

And regret would suddenly hit me in unexpected times The events of 1979 at Alma's 10 would never leave my memory I know that I will continuously be plagued by terror Brought on by its horrors and the regret I feel because of my decisions However I do hope that by putting this out there The weight I feel would be lessened To Adrian

if you're still up there I'm sorry for leaving you behind