Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S2 Ep68: Episode 68: Sci-Fi Horror Stories

Episode Date: February 10, 2022

Tonight’s first terrifying tale of alien first contact, originally titled ‘Oomanish’, is a wonderful story By Bear Lair 64, kindly shared with me via Dr. Creepen’s Vault and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission: https://www.reddit.com/user/BearLair64/ Our next tale of terror is ‘We’ve been stationed on the moon since 1988: There's a reason it’s been a secret’, an original work by Richard Saxon, kindly shared directly with me via his sub-reddit and narrated here for you all with the author’s kind permission. https://www.reddit.com/user/RichardSaxon/   We round off this evening with ‘Achilles IV’, an original story by Ryan Kinkor; shared directly with me via my sub-reddit and read here with the author’s express permission: https://www.reddit.com/user/RTKGuy/

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Visit cfir.ca. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it, everyone you love, everyone you know. Everyone you've ever heard of.

Every human being, whoever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering. Thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines. Every hunter and forager, every hero and character. every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species live there on a mode of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

Carl SIGAR Later on this evening we have We've been stationed on the moon since 1988 There's a reason it's been a secret By Richard Saxon We round off with Achilles 4 By Ryan Kinkle But before that

We have Umanish By Bear Lear 64 Now as ever before we begin A word of caution Tonight's tales may contain strong language As well as descriptions of violence horrific imagery.

If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. Tom was ten years old when the alien visitors arrived, and he rapidly watched the television screen as the camera caught the silver sphere that descended from the deep blue void of space. The Eumanish

had at last arrived on his world. It had been all over the news media for several months. Aliens from the depths of space were on the way, and had indeed made contact with scientists, scholars, and national governments from all around the planet. Umanish was as close as anyone could come to pronounce in the name of the alien race, based on the one static-played broadcast that they'd sent.

The newscasters played a recording of the broadcast intermittently as the Umanish grew closer. His favorite newscaster, he'd always thought she was very pretty, though he'd started to notice it more of late, had played the Umanish message many times, But it never grew tiresome for him when she introduced it. Scientists and scholars were still striving to obtain a more accurate translation of the Yumanish language. They had an encrypted laser file that included basic instructions on the language,

and much of it had been released to the public. The alien's language was very guttural and deep to Tom's ear. Father said that their vocal apparatus, Tom was pretty sure that meant their throats, mouth, tongues and so on, was different from that of Tom and his people. Father also said that the Umanish might be larger and would have a different physiology. Tom knew that meant body.

He'd asked father. The International Government Council had sent images of people from all around the world and of various regions and items of interest as a welcome to the visitors. They had included language recordings of the predominant language of the most technologically advanced nation, my very own, and images normally used to teach the very young.

This was similar to the format the aliens had used, so the assumption was that it was the appropriate response. The humanish had neglected or been unable to send images of themselves along with their overtures for a meeting. This had led to much speculation about their physical nature. Some even wondered if they had a physical nature. Now Tom and everyone with a television would at last see for themselves. Many had speculated on whether the reports were real.

Others, such as Tom and his family, held out hope that the Eumanish would be benevolent and would bring prosperity and unimaginable gifts. Still others felt that the arrival was a harbinger of doom and behaved in a fearful and hostile manner. Many held religious beliefs that were at odds with the reality of life forms from other worlds. There were reports that, in some less devoutive, developed parts of the world, there had been violent demonstrations. Tom and everyone in his immediate family crouched around the television and leaned expectantly toward the screen.

They marvelled at the gleaming sphere from an actual distant star, Tom thought in amazement. Tom had often gazed into the night sky, pondered what beings might dwell on the distant points of light. father had told him that it was likely that most stars supported planets and it was only reasonable to believe that with the numbers involved there must be life on distant worlds perhaps the beings on those worlds looked toward tom star and wondered about his life he knew they would find it dull nothing interesting ever happens on this planet the sphere descended to the greenswood of the mall in front of the capital building the Capitol Dome gleamed in the bright morning light of early summer. The executive himself was there to greet the visitors. There were leaders and representatives from all of the major governments of the world

and most of the minor ones. There were rows of officials, scientists, scholars, and fortunate observers. There were even high-ranking members of all of the major religions. After all, as Father had said, this event will shake the foundations of spiritual belief no matter the religion we'll no longer be the center of creation and soul focus of the divine the sphere landed smoothly silently and almost anticlimatically

on the grassy surface in front of the capital building support structures emerged quietly from several points within the sphere to keep it upright Tom didn't know what he'd expect it Perhaps he expected flames and thunder as he'd seen in his favourite science fiction movies. He'd expected something more spectacular from such exotic beings. Tom's father let out his breath in a quiet hiss as the craft touched the lawn in front of the capital. The beings from another world, the Eumanish, had arrived.

Oh, they're here at last. Father whispered to the family. The entire family was silent for a moment, and then, starting with Tom and his siblings, they all burst out into cheers. Little brother was too young to truly understand the significance of the unfolding events, but he shouted along with the rest of the family. They're here, they're here. Little brother mangled the phrase, of course. They here. After all, he was just learning to speak. Quiet, please. Quiet, please. Quiet everyone. Father admonished, we'll finally get a good look at our visitors. The family members again settled into their seats and returned their full attention to the screen.

After several tense moments, the sphere at last opened on the side that faced the executive and his party. There had been no visible scenes in the surface of the silver sphere, but now there was clearly around. doorway flush with the bright lawn of the capital morgue the sphere glittered beautifully even magically in the morning sunlight as the first of the Umarnish appeared in the opening the Umani that was the singular the officials had determined was considerably taller than the average for Tom's folk it was quickly flanked by several even larger beings as the Umanish exited their vessel Tom was good at discerning details, could see that their leader walked in a slightly different, more swaying manner

than its larger companions. Perhaps there's more than one type of being in the spacecraft, he thought, but kept to himself. The smaller Umani had a larger chest and broader hips than the taller escorts. However, the escorts had broader shoulders and thick limbs and walked in a very upright manner. He each carried a bulky, long instrument. What could those be? Tom pondered. Maybe devices for scanning or communication, like what the astronauts use. It was Tom's dream to be an astronaut, or at least a scientist.

This is getting better, he thought, as he leaned even closer to the screen. Mother automatically pulled him back from the television. She always did that when he leaned too close. It must have been from habit since this time she didn't take her eyes off the TV. images unfolding so far from home. Tom was interested to see that the Umanish were similar informed to himself. They had four limbs and appendages at the ends for walking and for grasping. As the news camera zoomed in more closely, Tom could see that the Umanish had differently jointed legs and arms and one more finger than he and his family members. To Tom's disappointment,

all of the Umanish wore helmets with mirrored face shields. remembered what farther it said. The alien's home environment most likely has a very different atmosphere than ours. There's also concern that interplanetary plagues might be spread by alien organisms. We have these fears and I'm sure our medical professionals will take proper precautions. It's only natural that our visitors would also take appropriate measures to protect themselves. Perhaps with time we can alleviate the concerns. Some of our top researchers have said that alien organisms may be so alien that they can't attack us,

though I personally disagree and admire the caution of our visitors. Tom sometimes thought that Father could be tiresome with his constant teaching, but he never grew tired of discussions regarding the Eumanich. Besides, Father was a teacher by profession. What else would he do? Tom didn't care much about organisms. He wanted to see the faces of the people. the Yumanish? Were they like his own? In any way? Did they have eyes and ears and noses? Were they

arranged in a similar manner? Would they be disgusting or beautiful or something else in time? At last the Yumanish party arrived within several feet of the executive's party and halted. The executive approached and presented his open hands and palms in a gesture of universal peace. The executive and his party, which included several major world leaders, or no protective gear that Tom could see. Perhaps the doctors had determined that there was no danger from organisms, or maybe they felt that the Humanish precautions were sufficient for both species. The leader of the Umanish party stretched forth its her hand.

At that point Tom glanced at his mother and older sister. He realized that the smaller, more delicate Umani was not a different type of alien, but was a female version. The wider hips and larger chest indicated that Umanish had men and women. Like us, he thought excitedly. He wondered briefly if the Umanish leader would be pretty like the newscaster. It was hard to imagine with all those fingers and the big shoulders and wrong way joints, but the exotic nature of such a being could perhaps contribute to its beauty.

The female Umani gestured in a firm manner toward the executive in his party. She swept her arm across the area, encompassed by the park. She spoke in a deep and garbled version of Tom's language, and the sound came from a small, rectangular box below her helmet. Just as Tom was finally able to make out the words that the Umanish leader had uttered, He saw her step forward and strike the executive in the midsection. He dropped to his knees and then fell over on his side. Eumannish leader kicked him hard.

As the executive's security staff moved forward to protect him, even as the other members of his party stepped back, the alien leader reached to her side and grasped an object. She pointed the object at the executive. This time, Tom was shocked by the thunder. as noise and brilliant flash of light that ripped forth from the instrument and reduced the executive's head to a shredded, wet, steaming remnant. The security team halted in their tracks and reached for weapons of their own as the remainder of the party cowered from the

humanish giants. The security details of the various dignitaries all attempted to cover the retreat of their parties. The humanish leader continued to blast away at any who attempted to draw a weapon. The executive's protectors quickly succumbed to the consuming fire. The Eumanish who flanked their leader, opened fire with their larger weapons, before the steam had stopped rising from the executive's ruin corpse. They fired at the security staff members first, and then at the dignitaries. Those weren't scanners like on space travellers?

Tom screamed in his mind, as his jaw dropped and his eyes bowled. His legs attempted to crawl up inside his torso and his shoulders hunched, attempting to do the same. Tom and his family watched in silent horror as their government representatives and leaders from around the world were slaughtered before their very eyes. Then streaks of light emanated from the sphere and the Capitol building was shattered and engulfed in flames. The stones that made up its facade actually started to melt. All was panic and chaos as the entire crowd attempted to flee the onslaught of the Umanish. Some security members managed to return fire at the Umanish, who still stood at the foot of the ram. Their weapons appeared to have little or no effect.

The Umanish calmly stood and slaughtered all in their view. A team of Umanish exited the ship and began to corral the scientists and religious leaders, striking any who didn't immediately capitulate. As the weapons flashed and roared, and dust and smoke rose from the ruins of the capital city, one of the Eumanish turned toward the camera and pointed its weapon. The television went dark. Tom's father seized the remote control and rapidly switched to other channels,

but all were already dark or went dark within seconds. Most of the cameras must have been in a desiccule. area for media. It didn't occur to Tom and told much later that the pretty newscaster was dead, reduced to a steaming heap by the weapons of the Umanish. Father explained that it was more likely that the broadcast satellites had been destroyed, and perhaps she had survived, but Tom didn't believe it. He could barely picture her face by then.

His young mind was filled with much more intense and frightening images. The few working stations father managed to get all showed the same. Death and destruction inflicted by the Eumannage. Father sat back in dismay as though he wanted to be elsewhere, but couldn't make himself look away from the screen. Mother quietly wept and shook her head. Big sister clung to mother and trembled, and little brother wailed in bemusement.

Little brother couldn't understand why everyone was upset. or crying, but he must have sensed that it was bad. This can't be happening, thought Tom. These beings are in advance race. They had to be peaceful in order to cooperate and reach the stars. Father had said so. After several moments, the picture resolved, with a great deal of electronic snow and wavy lights.

The television was on a different channel than that which the family had first viewed. The elder male news anchor was at a central location, far from the horror of the capital. Still, his voice quavered, and he looked drawn and pale as he spoke. All reports are that the Eumanish have attacked our executive and seat of government, as well as the leaders of other nations gathered to greet them in peace. The nation and the world are shocked by this unprovoked hostility. Word is that the Eumanish have a fleet orbiting and, our world, rather than a single exploration vessel, as they'd indicated in their initial communications.

The Eumannish fleet is descending upon our world. At this point, the view switched to another sphere that descended so quietly and serenely to settle upon Tom's world. There was no indication of a threat from the way the alien machine operated. Tom didn't recognize the city, but it appeared large and well populated. The lights flashing from the various points. points on the sphere should have been a display to bring joy rather than weapons that spread devastation. Tom saw buildings, vehicles and people explode, burn and melt as the beams from the Umanish vessel brush them. The newscaster continued. Please bear with us.

We're experiencing some interference in our broadcast. We've just received word that the Umanish have destroyed the world space station. We fear that our satellite... At that point, the television went entirely dark. Within a few seconds, the lights flickered and failed. Only morning sunlight from the windows illuminated the room. Little brother was now in Mother's Lamp. He'd stopped wailing when the broadcast returned.

Now he simply looked frightened, and his face appeared drained of blood. He rubbed at his eyes as though the images he'd seen had injured them. Tom emphasized with his little brother. his head contained a pounding ache that throbbed behind his eyes and caused him to hear a roaring noise. Father spoke, at first with a slight tremor in his voice. Perhaps the power grids failed and the cause is far from here. Father picked up the phone and attempted to make a call. He obviously could not connect.

After several more attempts, he sat down the phone and looked at the floor. I guess the phones are out or swamped. Father gulped and Tom was perceptive enough to know that he just wanted everyone to remain calm and quiet. Father cleared his throat and spoke with more determination. All right, everyone. Let's get some water and other supplies and move to the basement. No one moved. Now, father shouted.

Father never shouted. This was bad and Tom knew it. Little brother whimpered, but Father raised a finger and silenced him. Father heard it everyone into the kitchen and supervised as each family member, even little brother, gathered containers of water and food. Father picked up a small candle lamp and an old battery-operated radio that he kept in the utility drawer. Tom began to see Father's purpose and pitched in to help. Father spared Tom a quick glance and an approving smile.

Despite his fear, Tom felt a moment of pride that he had contributed to his family's well-being. Tom and his family bustled as silently as possible down the stairway to the basement. Tom wasn't sure why they were attempting to be so quiet, but it felt the right way to do it. They mostly used the basement for storage and utility, though it did double duty as a storm shelter since they lived in an area prone to tornadoes and violent thunderstorms. father had a small workshop and lap in one corner mother often teased father when he worked on his home experiments and inventions she said that he dreamed vastly and accomplished minimally father would usually either pretend to ignore her or respond with a wry smile mother didn't

appear to be in a humorous mood today though tom and his parents left big sister to my little brother and returned back upstairs and brought down mattresses and bedclothes Tom helped father move most of the large items. While they were upstairs, Father made a comment that this would be like a camp out. Tom was glad the campsite was indoors. He no longer had an interest in stargazing. Throughout the remainder of the day and the entire night, there were only fleeting reports from the little radio.

The only changes they heard had been for the worse. The spheres had landed. and horror reigns supreme. Eventually, only static greeted father's attempts to find an operating frequency. He turned off the little device to save the batteries. Father had often admonished Tom to be more frugal with items like batteries and electricity. Tom wished that he'd been more obedient, and as he settled into a fitful, nightmare-ridden sleep,

he hoped that he'd been well-behaved enough to survive what was coming. Tom's family spent the next two days huddling together in fear, either reading aloud to one another by candlelight or playing games to say occupied. Tom always grew more anxious when he saw father and mother whisper quietly together. Father made short forays into the upper portions of the house to obtain supplies and to look outside. They all did so to relieve themselves,

though those were quick, furtive trips that were all business. On the second day he reported The entire area appears deserted The neighbors appear to have fled off Like us are burrowed deeply in hiding Mother asked Should we leave as well There has to be someplace safe

Maybe we should try and get in touch with our neighbours Maybe one of them has a plan Tom noted the desperation in Mother's voice It added to his own mounting apprehension Father thought for a moment and finally pronounced. No, we're in a relatively small enclave. It'll be sometime before the invaders. Tom noted the change in terminology from visitors.

Before the invaders turned their attentions to us. Perhaps by then our military will have mounted an effective defence. Though father tried to sound confident, Tom had started to view him differently. perhaps father is a mere mortal after all he thought for some reason this made tom feel sad rather than contemptuous as so many of his peers at the same age tended to feel towards their parents he listened as father continued to speculate i was thinking about their technology seems the weapons the alien use are some type of coherent light i think the visible beams we see are mere aiming devices. When that first one killed the executive, I believe that the noise was either designed

into the weapon for intimidation, or perhaps it was caused by feedback from some sound equipment. Of course, it could be a kinetic weapon that's beyond our means, which would also make some noise. Either way, the result was unnecessarily messy. I believe that their weapons must have been designed as much for intimidation as for effect. father's cold assessment of the murder of their national leader and so many of their people seemed to horrify mother and big sister they spent a great deal of time huddled together for comfort little brother on the other hand was more resilient he tended to grow fussy due to the confined space but thrived on the extra attention that his family had paid him his antics

an attempt at coherent speech amused everyone, and brought at least a mild levity to their terrified existence. The main topic of discussion was the persistent silence from the rest of the community. No neighbours had approached, no local leaders had attempted to communicate. Mother said she believed that everyone must have taken similar precautions. It was, after all, part of the civil disaster plan for everyone to use their basements as a protective of warring, a case of emergency or natural catastrophe. There was a comfort to being surrounded by the solid earth.

On the third day, the family, weary and beginning to feel the emotional tension from confinement, awakened to rumblings and shouts muffled by distance and the walls, but obviously coming from just outside their home. Stay here, father ordered, as he bounded for the stairs. Of course Tom ignored him and scrambled up as quickly as he could behind his father. At the top of the stairway he almost ran into his father's posterior. Father had stopped and now bent forward and crept toward a window in the front of their house. Tom followed in the same manner.

He paused beside his father at the window. Father darted a glance at him but didn't reproach him for disappearing. Instead, he immediately returned his attention to the view through the window. Tom focused his attention outside as well. What he saw was at first confusing, but he soon understood that the silver orbs that moved silently along the roadway were a similar, smaller, ground version of the Eumannish spheres. The ground vehicles were simply an elongated sphere sliced in half, with the flat portion facing the ground like half an egg.

Oh, a terrible egg from some prehistoric alien monster, Tom shuddered. The rumblings the family had heard had originated from a nearby house that now lay in smouldering ruins. However, the rest of the neighbourhood appeared to be intact. Umarnish in their armoured suits and helmets walked beside the battle eggs. They carried the long personal weapons that Tom had seen on the first day of the invasion and escorted a group of captives. The prisoners, Tom recognized some as his neighbourhood friends and their families, appeared very frightened and confused.

Many appeared injured and on the verge of panic. Tom felt that he should have seen many more faces than were present them. At that point, Tom heard a loud announcement emit from the lead battle-hick. Absurd name for such an evil machine. What an odd thought in such a tense situation? He said to himself. The voice sounded like one of his people, but Tom could not believe the message.

You will surrender quietly. There was a thud and a squawk. The announcement began again. The voice slightly tremulous. Your world has been conquered. Your defences are destroyed. You will come forth unarmed and join the prisoners. Come peacefully, you will not be harmed.

Just before the announcer was silenced, Tom heard a deep, guttural, and badly accented, That's enough, Shag. Apparently Shag was what the Omanish called Tom's people. He briefly wondered at the meaning of the alien word. They obviously had as hard a time with Tom's language as his people had with their. perhaps that had caused the problem father had said that the entire invasion may have been caused by miscommunication he hadn't said it with much conviction Tom didn't really believe it either

no you manish are just plain evil father swallowed hard and then did so again he sat back on his haunches sprawled back onto his rump collapsed in defeat after a long ten times In a tense moment, father stood and rubbed his head. Tom had noticed his father did this when stressed, as when Tom were his siblings behaved battle. Tom now regretted all those moments. He watched his father climb slowly to his feet and shuffled over to the stairway that led to the basement. Father was downcast and his shoulders were slack. He called quietly to mother and told her to bring up big sister and little brother. Tom looked back toward the window in time to see a group of Umarnish approaching the front doorway. One of them pounded on the door with its fist and shouted something in its own throaty tongue. A line ending with, Shag! The doorway shook with the fury of the large beings pounding assault.

The Umanish then stepped back and aimed its weapon at the door. Tom dropped to the floor and sprawled as he heard the doorway explode. He saw through his closed eyelids the flash of light and felt the heat as the molten remnants of the entrance to his home flew in every direction. How big they are in person, Tom thought, as the first Umani crouched to enter the house. A move necessary even through the destroyed doorway.

It turned slightly to one side to negotiate the entrance hallway to Tom's home. His broad shoulders still scraped against the interior walls. It kept its weapon pointed forward and led the way. Muzzle first into the living. Tom rolled onto his back as the huge alien approached him. The massive creature pointed its weapon a few inches from Tom's face. Don't move, shag. It boomed in a poor approximation of Tom's language,

via the box on its chest. The meaning was quite clear to Tom. Besides, the only movement of which, which Tom was capable, was a tremble. Other Umarnish entered the dwelling and seized father and then poor mother, Big Sister and even Little Brother as they reached the top of the stairway. They flung Tom's family to the floor. Mother clutched Big Sister, and they curled together in a tight, fetal ball.

They shivered and wept in abject fear. Little brother lay crumbled in a tiny heap on the other side of the room. His piteous cries at the approach of the Eumanish ended with a sickening crunch as one of the largest flung him into the wall. The creature then made barking sounds. Laughter, Tom thought briefly. Father attempted to rise and move toward little brother. The invader who had pointed its weapon at Tom, knocked father back to the floor with its huge, strangely jointed arm,

back by its massive shoulder. Father landed in a heap, much like little brother, with his head on the floor and his eyes looking into Tom's. The big alien raised its foot and stomped on father's neck. Tom heard the snap with preternatural clarity. Tom stared into his father's eyes as the light faded from them. Tom's father, the brilliant and all-powerful force in his life thus far, was gone. Then he looked up at the Umani in front of him. The new, all-powerful force in his life.

Tom felt his heart plunged to his feet in fear, and his bodily fluid soak his clothing and spill onto the floor. He mindlessly stammered. Please, Umani, please. Tom looked up at the alien's mirrored face shield as it loomed over his prostrate form. He could see his own narrow grey face. fringed with green-tinged fur, drain of blood as his huge purple eyes watered and his large incisors shook above his quavering chin. His long ears were lay back along the side of his head, and he shuddered in abject fear.

It's not Umari, Shaq. It's human. There was more of the booming, barking laughter, and then, darkness. Hey Ontario, come on down to BetMGM Casino and check out our newest exclusive. The Price is Right Fortune Pick. Don't miss out. Play exciting casino games based on the iconic game show. Only at BetMGM. Access to the Price is right fortune pick is only available at BedMGM Casino. BetMGM and GameSense remind you to play responsibly. 19 plus to wager, Ontario only.

Please play responsibly. If you have questions or concerns about your gambling or someone close to you, please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BenMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. We have been stationed on the moon since 1988. There's a reason it's being kept a secret. After they firmly strapped us in, I took a moment to relax and enjoy the final minute of Earth's gravity before takeoff. The rookie in the seat next to me looked worse for wear, with pearls of sweat covering his pale face.

He'd seemed so excited only moments before, but I couldn't blame him. The little blue planet had been his home. And now he'd leave it, never to return again. First time in space, right, I chuckled, trying to keep the mood light. He nodded, his eyes still fixed at the control panel in front of us. I'd like to tell you that the acceleration would knock you clean out, but that ain't the case. Lying that position, blood is basically forced into your brain. You'll be awake to feel each bump on the road, I said, cheerfully.

That little tidbit of information seemed to break his trance. He looked over at me and cracked a weak smile. I could have given him words of comfort or told him it wasn't that bad, but from experience I knew that facetious humour would best aid our journey into space. I'm not worried about the take-off, he said. It's just the magnitude of it all, you know. The countdown sequence started, and I braced myself while the rookie desperately tried to control it.

his breath. 10. 9. 8. Time to say goodbye, kids, I yelled at him. 7. 6.

5. Don't listen to him, the pilot said. You'll love it once we break out of the Earth's atmosphere. 4.3. Here we go. Here we go.

The rookie mumbled to himself. Two. Two, one. The shuttle shook violently, rocking us back and forth in our seats. The rookie kept his eyes firmly shut in anticipation, with his arms firmly clenched on the armrests. Before long our spacecraft had taken off from the ground and started shooting up towards the vast sky above. It was a slow start, as the engines worked their way towards maximum acceleration. It was an intense feeling of both horror and excitement, as our own.

Our bodies tripled in weight, firmly locking us in our less than comfortable chairs. From take-off to space itself, about nine minutes would pass. Each one would feel like an eternity on its own as the shuttle accelerated from a standstill to 17,500 miles an hour. Observer, you've cleared the tower. Launch control notified us over the radio. I appreciate the info. I didn't even realize we'd started flying. pilot joked as he looked over the control panel, making sure none of the warning lights

had greeted us with their flashing alarms. As far as the works on the ground were concerned, we were on a routine mission. According to any official document, we'd be staying a week in space before dropping back to Earth, landing gently in the massive deserts of Kazakhstan. In reality, our mission would take us much further away from home, and years would pass before any of us ever had the pleasure of returning. What followed were five minutes of intense shaking. If I hadn't known better, I would have believed that we were thrown into a dryer

as clothes rumbling around in circles, and wonder what kind of unexpected bruises I'd find once we finally reached the base. The rookie finally opened his eyes. I couldn't hold his nerves against him. He hadn't seen the best part of our journey yet, the magnificent view of earth as we drifted away. weightless in space.

Observer, prepare for staging, launch control suggested through the radio. With that message, we were launched forward in our seats, noses pressed hard against the smooth glass of our helmets, almost touching the control panel inches ahead. A loud clunk sounded through the shuttle as the strap-ons finally detached from our ship and the secondary boosters were activated.

Minutes later, we'd entered orbit. And the three of us finally relaxed while we awaited the third stage. Being free of Earth's harsh gravity was a strange sensation. As a larger man, it made me seem so insignificant as if my mass meant nothing against the empty vacuum around our shuttle. It felt like falling, except there was nothing left in the universe to fall against. Total freedom. Hey, Daniel, check it out.

The pilot said as you let go over the checklist in front of the rookies. in front of the rookie. There it hung, gently rotating in a weightless state, only seconds before the third stage would begin, officially starting our journey towards the moon. As we left our payloads behind, he escaped how it was jettisoned out.

For the first time we had an unobstructed view of the infinite darkness ahead of us. Millions of stars greeted us with their full glory. Without the filter of Earth's atmosphere, we could see as far as space reached. There, in the distance, hung a white celestial body, seemingly small and insignificant. Unknown to the general public, it would be humanity's final hope. We were moving towards it an almost impossible speed,

yet it barely felt as if we were moving at all. Oh, beautiful, ain't it? I asked. At least the rookies seemed less panicked. Without the literal weight of Earth's gravity to keep him pinned down, he could finally just sit back and enjoy the trip. Wow, don't even know what to say. It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen, he said. He spent the next few hours just staring out at space.

Still not willing to believe he'd actually made it there. The rookie couldn't even been out of his twenties, yet he'd been specifically recruited for a lifelong mission on the moon itself. Tell me, was it worth it? I asked. Was what worth it? Leaving everything you've ever known behind. To have the company fake your death and erase your presence from Earth. Also you can spend the next decade in a secret base hidden away from mankind. I mean, you don't even know what the job is, do you? He turned his attention towards me, finishing his staring contest with the universe. He pondered for a moment before finally responded. All my life, I wanted to make a difference.

To be one of the few to ever venture into space, to advanced science. When the company contacted me, they didn't even tell me where I was going. They just said I'd be saving the world. He was smart, good physique and socially intelligent. He could have had a fantastic life back on Earth. Started a family, made a shit ton of money, and just enjoyed all of the luxuries home had to offer. Yet he chose to help. knowing he'd never return.

I knew then he was someone I could trust. The trip towards the moon would take about three days, leaving us plenty of time to get properly acquainted. I'd been tasked with picking him up from Earth, and based on the file they gave me on him, he was nothing less than a genius. Sleeping in space was oddly comforting. There were no uncomfortable positions when floating without ups or downs,

no lumps to lie on top of, no need to roll around. Other than that, the trip to the base was fairly dull. The planet we left behind faded away into the distance, turning into a little pale dot. The base we were heading towards had been named Ares. It was a massive construction on the dark side of the moon, out of view from the people back on Earth. Ares was the greatest creation of mankind. One kept hidden for decades, known only to the 200 people living.

living there and a handful of people situated back on Earth. When there, we had close to no radio contact with ground control. According to Command, the less contact we had with Earth, the less likely it was that our operations on the Moon became public knowledge. As we were taken in by the Moon's orbit, we started hearing static feedback. Before long, we'd be in contact with Ares itself. This is observer 1.08 to Bay's control. You copy? The pilot asked.

Greetings observer. This is base control. We read you loud and clear. Stage in seven is ready for docking. Get ready to initiate landing sequence. I pulled out another checklist while the pilot flicked around the necessary switches. Within a minute, we were approaching the docking station. The landing was smooth. Once the airlock opened, we finally got the chance to stretch our legs. were immediately greeted by a decontamination crew and ordered to change out of our sweaty undergarments and into more suitable uniforms. It's been a pleasure, Rick, the pilot said to me as we parted ways. It was time for the rookie's initiation into the system. I brought him into the

sectional office, looking for his instructor and guide, Jennifer. Rick, how are you doing? Jennifer asked as she stepped out of the office. I don't see you around Section 7 very often. I'm just bringing our newest scientist. Mind of us stick around, make sure you don't go too hard on the kid. She smiled and gestured for us both to follow her through the narrow halls of Section 7, as she explained protocols and rules about the compound. It was an impressive construct, a station big enough to comfortably house hundreds of people,

in addition to the countless laboratories, workstations, and massive common areas for the large amounts of downtime. The fact that it had been kept hidden for so long, long was an almost impossible feat on its own, one that had piqued Daniel's interest. Might be asking, how, why this has been kept secret for so long? Jenna smirred. It was a question inevitably asked by each newcomer, only she knew exactly how to answer. Ever heard of the Manhattan Project? She asked. Yeah, the race to build an atom bomb back in 1939. Daniel responded confidently.

130,000 people working together to create the most destructive weapon in human history divided into hundreds of sections each working on their own part of a bomb to be dropped over Hiroshima and Nagasaki out of those 130,000 people only about a couple of dozen knew what the project would result in the rest were kept in the dark unknowingly causing the death of countless people That's That's exactly how the Ares project was kept hidden By giving each station a piece of the puzzle Just not enough to see the whole picture

I always love listening to Jennifer's speeches about the Ares project The look of surprise and amazement As they realised the magnitude of the situation But one final piece of information Still strayed away from Daniel's knowledge So, um What exactly are we doing here? he finally asked.

Before Jennifer got the chance to explain, the speaker system emitted a loud and jarring message. Security head office, calling Richard Fender, report to Section 9 immediately. Jennifer and Daniel looked at me questioningly. Sorry, I'll catch up with you later, I said as I started rushing down the hall. The act of running on the moon was a peculiar experience,

with only one fifth of the earth's gravity you spend more time gliding through the air before each step hits the ground in a way it feels like flying and you can reach speeds higher than what would be possible back home and on the other hand without ground contact it's hard to manoeuvre around corners which is why Ares has been built almost exclusively

with straight hallways within a few minutes I've made my way to the head security office inside I found a whole crowd of guards and officers all frantically trying to yell over each other to make a decision. What's going on? I asked. My supervisor, Lance Henderson, took me to the side to fill me in. Rig, something landed next to PAW Station 12, he said.

Doesn't show up on any of our instruments, but the crew swear they saw it. Particle, Accelerator, Weapon, Station 12, was the furthest reach away from the main base. situated near one of the major craters. It was the last of a set of cannons aimed into deep space. Weapons so powerful they could deflect any meteor getting too close to Earth. What are they saying about it? We don't know. We lost contact with them not 15 minutes ago.

I need you to take a team out to the station and find out what the hell is going on. I made my way to the hangar, a massive structure situated partially underground, doubling is the main oxygen production facility. The moon's crust is naturally rich in oxygen and by converting the rocks we effectively produced and maintained an atmosphere within the station. Three of my colleagues, Derek John and Patrick,

met me by one of the buggies, all wielding rifles. It wasn't a large team, but with the few trained guards we had at the station, the rest would stay behind. If something happened to us, the protocol was to lock down the entire air. Ares facility and abandoned anyone trapped in the smaller stations. Station 12, this is buggy zealot.

Did you copy? John kept repeating as we endure the uncomfortable hour-long trip. It felt like an eternity had passed before we reached the station. It was a large construct with a particle weapon towering up from the ground, staring off into deep space. In front of the station lay a large diamond-shaped rock covered in what looked like massive blisters. some of which had ruptures. What the fuck is that thing?

John asked. I don't know, but keep your weapons ready. There were still two buggies parked outside the station, meaning that the crew couldn't possibly have left. Station 12, we're entering through the main airlock. Get ready for boarding, I said, as we manually unlock the front gate. We kept our helmets on, even as the airlock was pressurized, and we could breathe.

We didn't know what we could expect on the other side, so we had to be ready for a quick escape. We stopped dead in our tracks as we took our first steps inside. There, on the floor, were the entire crew of PAW12, dead and mutilated to various degrees, with no sign of any other creatures.

It didn't look like monsters had come in to murder the crew, but as if they'd simply decided to kill each other using whatever they could use as weapons some of their wounds were created with surgical precision slit throats stabbed hearts or crushed skulls while others were more morbid as if they'd taken their time to finish the kill the only discrepancy among the murdered was a man

zip tied to the wall in a corner some distance away from the others while his neck had been stabbed it didn't look like any major vessels had been injured. As I bent down to examine the tied-up man, he suddenly jolted awake, screaming in horror. No, stop it. Get out. I don't want to. I grabbed him in an attempt at keeping him still,

worried he might exasibate his injury. Calm down, you're safe. I kept repeating. His fear quickly turned to despair as he noticed the corpse is littering the floor in front of him. I'm sorry I'm so sorry I didn't mean to he cried I grabbed a sedative out of my kit

and injected him through his port hoping he'd remain conscious but at least calm enough to relay what had happened on board the station I read the name on his suit Frederick hey Frederick look at me I need you to tell me what happened here

he calmed down a bit following the injection then he looked care carefully around the room, as if he was recounting the events that had transpired. I... I tried to kill myself. I don't know why. I didn't want to, but the voices... Oh, God. The voices, they just kept telling me I had to do it. They were so loud, so freaking loud. My team, they pinned me down and tied me up, but it didn't help them. I'm so sorry. he sulked still breaking down. I looked back at the dead crewman littering the floor.

If they'd managed to tie him up before he died, then who'd kill them? What about the others? They just started killing each other. But it wasn't them. The things, they changed them, they made them do it. His rambles were only semi-coherent, but the last statement piqued my morbid curiosity. Who?

The things. They came from the vessel. We didn't even see them, but they were here. They got inside our heads. It made us do it. Oh, I'm sorry. Please, you've got to believe me. Oh, God.

Oh, God. He kept rambling for a couple of minutes. I gestured for Derek to put him to sleep. He'd only make things worse by panicking. If we stood even the slightest chance of bringing him safely back to the station, he had to be put out. Don't worry Frederick. We'll get you out of here, I promise.

Within a minute, he was out, and we brought in a stretcher to carry him away. The rest of the crew were a lost cause, too destroyed to even fit into their suits. We had no choice but to leave them behind. We boarded our buggy, and immediately got a transmission from the main bases. Buggy, zealot, do you copy?

Yes. We make contact with Station 12. There are multiple casualties, but we're bringing back a survivor. Prepare the medical bay. Lucky Zellate, we lost contact with stations 4, 6, 8 and 9. We're reading multiple he signatures on the surface. Return to Ares immediately. Wait, what the fuck is happening?

There was a brief pause while I waited for the next transmission. Ares, you're there? Then they said the words I dreaded the most since I was assigned to the project. A simple sentence that I thought was years away from ever coming true. They're here. Part two. We tied the injured crewman to our buggy, making sure he didn't slip off as we spared back to the base. What do you mean?

They can't be here already. John asked over the radio. No response. Ares Driving on the moon wasn't an easy task at high speeds With the craters it was a bumpy ride And the ever-present dusk increased the risk of sliding As we maneuvered towards the base

Buggy Zellot We're initiating lockdown Hanger 2 will remain open until you arrive But we're putting you into quarantine Understood We'll be there in ten minutes I nervously scan the horizon Looking for any sign of movement

Whatever creatures have been inside these pods, they killed the entire crew aboard PAW Station 12. We saw more of them on the way. Each of them were diamond-shaped, obsidian black containers made out of bizarrely shiny metal. They were covered in blister-like sacks, most ruptured, but some still intact, pulsating and twitching. They looked almost wet, but any liquid should have evaporated immediately as they hit the harsh vacuum of space. We part the buggy outside the hangar and lifted Frederick into one of the service airlocks. On the inside, we were met with the blaring sound of an alarm and a set of isolation capsules for each of us. On the other side of the airlock stood my supervisor.

We're going to need you to get inside the capsules while we decontaminate the room, he ordered nervously. Lance Henderson was an abnormally calm individual, even at the most stressful of times. so to see him on the brink of panic alerted me to the true gravity of the situation. Lance, is it true? Are they really here? He nodded somberly. Not a word more needed to be said. I knew then that the next couple of days would decide the fate of not only us but the rest of humanity. After we put ourselves into the isolation capsules, they prepared to move us to the medical bay. Do we have any footage from the PAW station?

Lownd shook his head. Most of he got corrupted after the pods appeared on the moon's surface. We're trying to restore it, but I'm not too hopeful. I'll let you know as soon as we find anything, he said. I'll link up with you soon. Just do as the medics tell you. The medics carried my security team and I to an isolated room. Frederick, who sustained serious injuries to his neck,

was put in a separate room next to us. It was a research facility, which meant it had glassed. walls for observation. There was no privacy as we got undressed and changed into sterile clothing. You better tie him up. He's not himself. John said as the medics put Frederick in bed. By the time we'd been put into quarantine, the entire Averis had been put into complete lockdown. Anyone still outside the main base was on their own. Behind our glass walls, we could see crew members rush around in panic, each trying to fulfill their duties at a

record pace. All the while, alarms kept blaring. Orders were shouted through the speaker systems, and we could do nothing but wait, uselessly stuck in isolation. Lance called me over the radio, briefing me on the situation. Rick, we'll have your test results in an hour or so. In the meantime, we're trying to establish contact with anyone outside the main base. If they're still alive out there, we need to figure out a safe way to bring them inside. has anyone responded? No, but we've detected multiple heat signatures on the surface. A few of them matched the crew's transponders, but...

He trailed off. But what? There are too many of them. We don't have that many people stationed on the moon. It's them, I said. My voice filled with premature defeat. Yeah, we've recovered some footage from Station 12. I'll send you the phone.

I turned to the computer mounted on the wall and typed in my credentials. A single video file had been uploaded to my profile, a few minutes of salvage footage. I hit play and prepared myself for the worst. What greeted us was an overhead view of Station 12's interior, only an hour before we'd entered. The crew were relaxing in their leisure area, joking around and waiting for their shift to end. I immediately recognized Frederick standing in the corner, oddly quiet. He seemed to concentrate on something not visible on the camera. Hey guys, you hear that? he asked.

The crew fell silent and all of them listened intently to their quiet surroundings. Hear what? I don't know. It sounds like... Without even finishing his sentence, Frederick grabbed a pen from a nearby table, and started stabbing himself in the neck. Blood gushed out from the wound, and the crew immediately rushed to pin him down. What hell are you doing? Stop that. Let me go. I need to do this. Frederick yelled in protest.

Get the damn zip ties. Boss, there's something outside. Why are you talking about? After tying Frederick to the wall, the crew gathered to stare out of the minuscule window. All of them were in shock from what they saw. After a minute of disbelief, their boss grabbed the radio to alert Ares of the unidentified object. Ares, this is P.A.W. Station 12. We found something on the moon's surface. I don't think it's of lunar origin. In response, only static could be heard.

Fuck, the radio's cutting out. Robbie, would you check the connection? Without responding, the crewman walked over to his boss and stabbed him with a screwdriver. One of the others lifted his weapon in a hopeless attempt at de-escalating the situation. But, the fucking screwdriver, he ordered. But instead of helping, he turned his weapon on himself. Looking confused and without hesitation, he shot his own leg. The rest of the crew scattered in disarray.

Some trying to help their boss, while others wanted to. to grab the gun from their co-worker. The man with a screwdriver had already killed his boss and had turned his attention to himself. He proceeded to repeatedly stab his own abdomen, crying as he did. One by one, they all fell to the same insanity. Within only a few minutes,

every single crew member had succumbed to their wounds, all save for Frederick, who'd been tied to the wall, just in time to serve. save his life. The footage cut off abruptly, and we all stood speechless in front of the empty screen. What about the other stations? John asked. Do we really want to witness that again? As we discussed the undeniable reality of an oncoming invasion, we started hearing groans coming from Frederick's room. He was waking up, luckily tied to the bed. Where am I? he asked. You say, Frederick, the dark dark.

is on his way down, just stay calm. Oh, fuck. They're all dead, he sucked. We should have given him more sedatives, John said. Where's the damn dog? Ares' head physician was a neuroscientist of advancing age. The rookie, Daniel, would be his new apprentice. By the time the dog eventually retired, he'd take over, specifically chosen for the job.

They both arrived alongside Jennifer a few minutes later. He told him what had happened and he suited up to go inside to examine Frederick. Lance finally returned after patrolling the area. He'd locked down the entirety of our section and put guards on each airlock. Should something break through? Staff was scarce but each employee, guard or scientist had been trained to deal with situations like these. Dr. Livingston, they briefed you on the patient. Lance asked.

Yeah, I'm well aware of the situation, he said matter of fatly. Daniel, join me inside. We're going to have to cut your training short. I've always thought hands-on experience were best anyway. Together they entered the isolated room. Jennifer stood guard outside, ready to intervene should Frederick fall into psychosis once again. What followed was a barrage of uncomfortable but necessary questions. Frederick, who'd attempted to kill himself only hours earlier, was undoubtedly shook from the experience, but whatever trance he'd been in had long since passed.

Halfway through the examination, another alarm sounded throughout the base. Atmospheric breach in Section 9, all personnel must evacuate the area immediately. Lance immediately reached for his radio, demanding an explanation. Section 9. This is security, Chief Henderson. What the hell is going on? Someone just blew up one on the freaking airlocks. A voice screamed from the other side. They took explosives from the factory. Who? I don't freaking know. We tracked his transponder from PAW Station 7. We tried contacting them over the radio, but he ignored us.

Is the breach sealed? Lanz asked. Yeah, but half my team. died in the vacuum. The rest of us are about to suit up in case the seal fails, but I don't know. He paused. How loud hammering noise could be heard through the radio. Oh my God. They're coming in through the seal. Everybody. Get the head out. What followed was a vague crashing sound before the call got interrupted. Damn it. I've got to go. Jennifer, stay here and help the dock, Lans says. Absolutely not. I'm coming with you. They'll need all the help they can get, she argued.

What about us? I asked. Sorry, Rick. You have to stay in isolation until the test come back. Don't worry, they'll come let you out, ASAP. The two of them rushed down the long hallways towards Section 9, while we remain trapped with no chance to help. Daniel and Dr. Livingston finished examining Frederick and called for our tests to be rushed through. agonizing minutes passed as we waited for any updates on the situation. The occasional bang was the only thing keeping us company as it echoed through the outer hull of Aries.

Over the radio I could hear requests for additional security coming from various sections around Ares. It was a call no one had the capacity to answer and I felt utterly useless stuck in isolation. Then we heard the sound of multiple footsteps rushing this. down the hole. Stay with me, Jennifer shouted. They rushed past us, carrying two stretches. On one of them lay lance, bleeding profusely from multiple gunshot wounds to his abdomen.

Jennifer, what happened? I asked in shock. She ignored me, and they brought the injured crew into a separate room. We couldn't directly see them. We could hear the utter horror in their voices as they futilely tried to stop the bleeding. It was a hopeless case, and from prior experience, I knew Lance wouldn't make it. Only minutes later, he had bled out. Jennifer came to our room, staring at me through the glass. Her eyes were red from a mixture of panic and despair.

Jen is he? Dead. I killed him, she stuttered. You did what? He just... He just went crazy, she continued. We were investigating the broken seal. Even with the hull secured, something got through.

Every single person who hadn't gone out of Section 9 died instantly. How many? 37. Jesus Christ. She stopped for a moment before continuing. Her blood-covered hands visibly shaking from the ordeal. As we suited up, Lance said he heard something.

I'd already gotten my helmet on, I couldn't hear what he was talking about, but then he just... Another loud ban could be heard, followed by an alarm. Whatever things were killing our people, they were getting into the station. He shot the others, point blank, and he would have killed me too. I didn't have a choice. I had to defend myself. I only wanted to stop him, but the first bullet didn't even phase him. I just kept pulling the trigger until he dropped his weapon.

I killed him. It was me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. We didn't get a chance to continue the conversation before the medics came to let us out. Even without conclusive test results, we'd been ordered to evacuate the area. The entire crew aboard Ares were pulling back into Section 5, the central and most secure hub of the station. We're closing all doors in five minutes. We got to go now, one of them ordered. With no time to suit up, we started rushing towards Section 5, ready to fight whatever creatures had entered the station.

I just don't understand. They weren't supposed to be here for another five years. How's it possible? Jennifer asked. No idea. It doesn't make any sense. On our way, we passed numerous lockdown sections. All breached in their atmosphere replaced by an empty vacuum housing little more than dust and the corpses of our diseased crew.

Multiple distress calls emitted from my radio, but we could do nothing to help any of them. All we could do was hope that as many people as possible made it into Section 5, where we'd organise a fight against the invaders. Rick, you there? Please respond, the voice said over the radio. I recognize the voice. It belonged to one of the senior security guards, Brandon Clifford. I'm here. We're en route to Section 5. Are you safe? Forget Section 5. We need you and the doctor come to the main lab immediately. The lab? Why?

He paused for a moment, letting out a half chuckle. We got one of them. Part 3. A trillions of dollars spent. Hence, areas had been the most expensive project ever undertaken by mankind. It made the cost of the International Space Station look like pocket change in comparison, but for its purpose it was worth it. Our goal had been simple, to save humanity from an inevitable invasion, one we'd foreseen since the early 70s, one we'd spent decades preparing for.

Despite our best efforts, it had only taken the invaders a few hours to shut us down, in one fell swoop they'd shut down our entire PAW defence grid killed more than half our crew and next on their list was Err Brandon Clifford had already gathered

a team of doctors and engineers at the laboratories in Section 3 but with half the station occupied by a vacuum getting there would be a challenging task so rather than crawling through the separate ventilation system we suited up and traversed directly through the locked-off section weapons in hand and eyes peeled for enemies we slowly made our way towards the lab praying that the dead alien could provide us with the answers we so desperately sought so they killed it right jennifer asked i sure hope so i doubt we'd have any means of interrogating it i responded besides it's time for payback these bastards killed half our crew without so much as a second thought john interjected

Once we finally made it to Section 3, we were met with a set of heavy metal doors. They were strong enough to withstand the vacuum of space and able to negate the power of a nuclear blast. They had to be manually activated and could only be open from the inside. Brandon, you in there? I asked over the radio. Rick? Yeah, it's me. I got my security team with me. Would you please open the damn door? an airlock separated the lab from the rest of section three it had been built in the early stages of aries construction and functioned more as a minuscule station than part of the main project luckily it had been able to maintain an atmosphere despite the many breaches it was a massive dome-like structure divided into several microlamps each of them had been sealed off hidden and distributed to different research teams operating in isolation from one another

at the very end was an autopsy room. It had been used to study the effects of low gravity on the decaying human body, but now it would be a place for alien dissection. Livingston and Daniel had arrived with a team of engineers, just in time to escape the breach in atmosphere. Whether they liked it or not, they were trapped in the lab, without enough suits to bring everyone out. Brandon met us by the entrance.

He'd sustained a massive gas to his face, rupturing his left eye and covered by a crude bandage. He guided us towards the autopsy room. In one of the corners, I noticed a pile of corpses. While I didn't personally know them, I recognized them as the lab's maintenance crew. What happened to them? I was discarding Dr. Livingstone and his assistant over here,

making sure none of the invaders got them. As we got here, one of the crew had complained about loud noise. Before I got the chance to question him, He just pulled out a knife and slashed me across the face. I tried to get away, but he stabbed his co-workers, and I had no choice but to shoot him. On the other two, I said as I gestured to their gouged out eyes and slit throats. They just dove in for the knife and started mutilating themselves.

I couldn't stop them. He responded, somberly. I wasn't until the adrenaline hit me before I noticed that freaking creature standing in the hallway. I can't even explain it. Just have a look at the thing. We entered the autopsy room. There, on the table, lay a massive creature. Though it had vague humanoid features such as arms and legs,

they were grossly disproportionate to what would function on earth. Its skin was sickly, pale white, and covered in a mucus-like substance. The arms reached far beyond its own legs, which were split in half down the middle. Instead of eyes, ears and mouths, the head was covered in deep, dark cavities. There were multiple bullet holes on its centre mass, which I assumed to be the cause of death. But despite the high-caliber rifle used, there were no exit wounds.

Is it dead? Jennifer asked nervously. No idea, Livingston responded. Its temperature hasn't changed, and it doesn't appear to bleed. Our only comfort is that it doesn't. show any kind of responsiveness. I looked back at Brandon, he was trying to cope with his missing eye. So, what exactly happened to it?

I chimed in. The thing was just wandering the hallway, covering in some weird, slimy film. Didn't exactly stop to ask any questions, or just shot it. Two fucking mags to bring the thing down. I took another glance at the bullet holes. The injuries look oddly clean, and the bullets inside had seemingly vanished, as if the creature had simply digested them. What do you think, Doc?

Brandon asked. He mumbled something to himself. It's a remarkable creature. I have my theories, but I'll need to open it up to be sure. What are you waiting for? Do it. Brandon firmly suggested. Don't be ridiculous.

This is not something you can just cut open with a scalpel. Its skin is too powerful. Besides, we're going to scale. Get it first. The creature must have been ten feet tall and weighed as much as us all combined. Together we pulled it onto a portable table and slowly pushed it towards the CT scanner.

Once inside, Livingston didn't hesitate to start the machine. A loud whirring sound could be heard as the machine started taking pictures. God damn it! Livingston exclaimed as the computer produced the scan. To the untrained eye, it just looked. like a massive flare occupying most of the screen.

What's that? I asked. Starburst. Happens when there's metal in the way of an X-ray, Daniel explained. Oh, they put something inside the creature's head, and we're going to remove it. Livingston continued as he rushed off to gather some tools. He returned moments later with an ice beak and a hammer. Without a second thought, he studied digging into the creature's skull. The skin was immensely thick.

didn't seem to contain any bones. Before long he retrieved a small metal boxed. What is it? I asked. I need to take it apart to be sure, Livingston said as he walked over to a set of computers. It looks oddly primitive, though. Maybe... Before he could finish the sentence, a high-pitched sound emitted from the speakers. We fell to the ground clutching our ears in agony. Brandon, thinking on his feet, ran over to grab the device out of Livingston's hands.

He threw it to the ground and started stomping on it. As the metal box shattered, the sound finally stopped. You idiot! Why did you do that? Livingston asked furiously. Why? Because it was fucking loud, Brandon shot back. Livingston collected the broken pieces and went to inspect the device. In the meantime, Daniel, proceeded to repeat the CT scan, this time without interruptions.

We waited impatiently while the machine circled around the lifeless creature, slowly producing a picture I didn't have the proper education to comprehend. Wow, that's incredible, Daniel mumbered to himself as he looked over the alien. Livingston joined him, and together they threw around a plethora of medical jargon none of us could understand. After a few minutes of discussing the creature's anatomy, They started to look worried. They rushed to the radio and quickly disconnected it before silencing every speaker in the room.

Turn your damn radios off, Livingston ordered. The lab was plunged into deafening silence, and we all awaited a logical explanation from the doctors. Sound, that's how they do it, Daniel said, with a weird mixture of excitement and horror in his voice. Sound. That's how they put people into a trend. They dilute people into killing themselves and those around them,

appear in his voices inside their heads, he continued. Livingston kept studying the device, desperately trying to figure out its purpose. Oh, it's a transducer, he suddenly said. He converts sound to radio waves. That's probably how they communicate in the vacuum. It also means they'll be able to hijack our own communication channels. You think they could use them against us?

He nodded. These things, they're unlike anything found on earth. They don't have a centralized nervous system, nor do they need a heart to pump blood through their bodies. If anything, they resemble insects more than mammalian life. Except every vital organ seems to be diffused throughout their entire mass. That's why it's so hard to kill them. The only effective thing to fight back would be with fire.

He paused, looking over the creature once more. We have to freeze it. Make sure it doesn't wake up. We lumped the creature onto a table and started pushing it towards the freezer. It could bring things down to just a few Kelvin away from absolute zero, a temperature that could keep even atoms from moving around. We need to warn the others, Jennifer said. Yeah, sent out a warning to Section 5, but keep it brief.

As we attempted to push the creature into the freezer, I noticed it twitched. Before I could even warn the others, Brandon just froze in place. No, no, no, he kept repeating. The alien moved again, not strong enough to get up, but clearly not dead. It's in my head, get it out, he yelled as he lifted his gun to his own temple. I dove into him, trying to pin his arm down. In the process, he accidentally fired off a round, which ricocheted off the ground.

which ricocheted off the ground and hit Livingston in the leg. As I tried to subdue Brandon, two of the other gars fell to insanity. With a little hesitation, they grabbed whatever sharp object they could find and started hacking away at their own bodies, quickly bleeding out. Brandon knocked me off, but the gunner stood too far away for either of us to reach. Rather than fight him, I grabbed a nearby bottle of isopropyl alcohol and drenched the alien in it. Before anyone could stop me, I ignited the alcohol and set the monster ablae.

Despite being on fire, it didn't let go of the grip it had on our crew. Brandon, alongside the engineers, rushed to embrace the burning creature, lighting themselves on fire in the process. Sprinkler system started spouting out a mesh of carbon dioxide dryouts. But with the burning crew lighting everything they touched on fire, it hardly helped. despite our best efforts the laboratory would soon be gone in the meantime daniel had attempted to stop the bleeding from livingstone's leg but it proved to be a futile effort it's his femoral artery i can't stop it daniel says by then secondary measures had been activated to quell the fire men that all the oxygen would be sucked from the lab and expelled into the vacuum of space normally it wouldn't be a problem but but with the entirety of Section 3 missing atmosphere, it meant we needed to suit up. We need to get to Section 5 immediately.

Jennifer, did you manage to get a hold of them? They're not responding, she said in panic. Not having time to come up with a better plan, I rushed to get suited up with the rest of the crew. We only had two minutes before the oxygen dropped to fatal levels. Wait, Livingston called out. His face had turned pale from bloodline. and I could easily tell he was only moments away from death.

You have to disable your radios. It's only a matter of time before they figure out how to intercept our channels. You have to. You... It meant we'd be walking out there with little to no situational awareness, unable to communicate with each other. Despite this horrific realization, we all knew he was right. What about you? We all know I'm done for. Just go. I glanced over at the burning remains of my former security team. John and Jennifer still attempted to put out the fire, but it was far too late.

How are we supposed to stop them? You can't, Levinston said, his voice growing weaker with each word. But you have to warn Earth. Give them a fighting chance. We suited up at a record pace and got ready to unlock the laboratory doors. The airlock would be sealed until the fire went out, which meant we had to watch Livingston suffocate before we could even walk outside. Jennifer grabbed a paper-sized whiteboard,

allowing us to communicate even without radio contacts. But the thought of going out there deaf still terrified me. Don't let this be for nothing, Livingston gasped as the last bit of air got pumped out of the room. Seconds later, he fell silent on the room. the floor. It's time to go, I said to the remaining survivors as we unlock the doors. Death had quickly become a fateful companion on our mission, but if we could warn Earth, it'd be worth it. Part 4. There are a lot of misconceptions when it comes to the agonizing death you'd meet

if faced with the vacuum of space. If an astronaut's suit should fail, exposing them to the vast emptiness around? How long would it take before they finally died? Would their blood boil over? Would they simply explode with nothing around them to withstand the body's internal pressure? Perhaps they might just freeze to death. Unfortunately those are not the case. The body can withstand a lot more than one might think. Liquids won't boil if inside a closed system, nor can anything freeze quickly. It cannot easily escape our bodies without something to conduct towards. In reality, an astronaut's death in space is a horrifying but quick process. Once faced with the eternal darkness of space, there's no hope left of survival. There are only a few natural orifices

on the human body. First, air is sucked out from your lungs. No matter how hard you try to hold your breath, it's simply a futile task, and they collapse within a second. Then, whatever contents that once pass slowly through your digestive track are forced out. After about 15 seconds of exposure, you lose consciousness, but not before feeling the saliva in your mouth boil over, and the vessels in your eyes rupture. Then, with soil pants in a fading mind, your body suffocates, and you are destined to drift through space, unable to rot until the end of time. These were the thoughts that preoccupied my mind each time I put on my suit for any extra vehicle activity.

Only then, the hostile territory wouldn't be space, nor the surface of the moon, but our own base. It had been plunged into vacuum as the monsters invaded, and we could only pray that anyone else had survived. During any regular spacewalk, we'd have our communication channels to comfort each other, but with the invaders hijacking our radios to kill us, we had little choice but to wander in silence.

Nothing save a small whiteboard to deliver simple messages. The four of us, rifles in hand, headed towards Section 5. It had been the main hub to organise an evacuation, but following the miserably failed autopsy of the first invader, we lost contact. Fearing the worst, we could do little more than check up on them. Jennifer scribbled something down on the whiteboard and held it up in front of us. Shortcut, this way.

Being unable to respond, we had no choice but to follow Jennifer's orders. She brought us through a service airlock which hadn't been used since the construction of Ares, but at least it would allow us to bypass most of the alien riddled hallways. Once we got outside and onto the moon's surface, we were faced with dozens of new pods. each had housed an invader, but they were nowhere in sight. We kept our eyes peeled as we sneaked towards Section 5 service entry. Our theory thus far had been that the invaders tracked us through radio signals,

but whether they could still find us without remained an unanswered question. Guns ready, Jennifer wrote on the whiteboard as we got ready to walk inside. I held my breath in anticipation, deafened by the sound of my suit. fan. On the intermittent occasion that it stopped, I could feel and hear my own internal organs churning, the beats of my racing heart, and the blood rushing through my arteries. As we opened the airlock, we expected a rapid flow of air escaping the middle compartment, yet we were faced with another vacuum. I felt my stomach drop as I was hit with the realization that Section 5 might have gone under. We raised our weapons, ready to face whatever monstrosities lay on the other

side. The doors opened, and what we were faced with didn't even resemble Aries at all. The entire section had been terraformed, and the air had been replaced by an empty vacuum. The walls were covered in what looked like the charred remains of bluish flesh, and on the ground lay mangled body parts, seeming to belong to both our own crew. and the aliens. I checked the room for an explanation and quickly found a massive hole in the section's hole.

In a last ditch attempt, someone had blown up the section, hoping to kill as many invaders as possible, but there were no survivors. Despite their heroic efforts, there were still hundreds of invaders roaming the rest of Ares. Jennifer rushed to the central control panel,

miraculously booting it up, while the rest of us secured the area. Without a single word to mourn our friends and co-workers, we got to work. Our first task would be to contact ground control and alert them to the oncoming threat of utter destruction. Our lives seemed painfully insignificant compared to the fate of the earth. Alas, the few satellites we could use to contact home were either out of range or had been destroyed during the invasion. Without any means of communication, we would have had to contact home. We would have to contact home. We were either out of range or had been destroyed during the invasion. to warn them ourselves, which meant evacuating the station. But before any attempted escape,

we had to find any remaining survivors aboard Ares. I begged internally that someone had escaped, but deep inside I knew it was little more than childish hope. We attempted to track any familiar heat signatures through the system. It was a slow process to filter out the numerous invaders, but we waited patiently, hoping they wouldn't find us. There were a few crew members in the section who'd managed to get their suits on before the slaughter Daniel went to each and diligently checked for signs of life but just like the rest of the crew

they'd perished in the explosion standing guard without aid of my own hearing was a horrible task I periodically glanced back at Jennifer checking to see if she'd made progress with the computer despite not being able to see her face through the helmet I could tell by her body language that the news wouldn't be good. She was quickly losing the last ounce of hope she had left. After a painful few minutes, she held up the whiteboard.

154 invaders, she wrote. I stared at her in a mixture of shock and all, not knowing what or how to respond. Instead I just pointed at the many corpses littering the section, hoping she'd get the gist of my question. She cleaned the whiteboard and wrote a single digit back on it. Zero. I shrugged as to ask what our next plan would be.

The factory, she wrote in response. The factory had been in our weapons testing facility a few clicks away from the main base. At the time of the invasion, it hadn't been manned for weeks. It was simply a research station used on the rare occasion that we actually had to try out any new technology. Despite that fact, it had several escape vessels, but what Jennifer wanted with the station remained an unanswered question. At the very least, it might not have been taken over. The fact that no radio signals had been emitted from there in the absence of any crew

men the aliens could have let it be. Jennifer shot to her feet and frantically pointed at the computer screen. It seemed that our activity in Section 5 had attracted some unwanted attention from the invaders, and they were heading straight for us. We immediately started retreating back towards the airlock, hoping we could get out before they saw us. Alas, we were too late, and the monstrosities were too quick. Five of them entered, just staring at us in confusion.

They didn't seem to understand how we could resist their hypnotic sound and radio waves. Without hesitation, we opened fire on them, and slowly walked back towards the exit. Once the invaders realized we could fight back, they charged us with impressive speed. John stood before us, putting three rounds in one of them with absolute precision. It seemed to knock it out, if only temporarily, but he'd stopped just long enough for one of them to grab him. John, I foolishly called out, forgetting that he couldn't hear me. It was too late.

No sooner had they touched him before he pointed the weapon had in. himself and pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through his abdomen and blood spurred it out through the hole lingering temporarily in the vacuum before starting to boil. Regardless of the bullet itself, the vacuum would kill him in under a minute. We could do nothing but keep firing as he pulled back into the airlock. Unable to help him, we closed the airlock, giving one final look of pity as his blood boiled in the harsh vacuum of space. Part 5. Take a look outside your window. Gaze upon the beauties the world beholds. The trees, the skies, the laughter of children. They walk around ignorant of the fact that their world

might end at any given moment. It could happen in less than a second, while you sleep peacefully at night, and you'd never even realize it. Imagine yourself, driving home from work. A brief flash fills the sky and an instance of surprise, and then, nothing. The world ends, leaving no trace of life behind. That's how a gamma-ray burst would appear, a vast source of energy created by colliding stars, millions of light years away. On the other hand, a false vacuum could extinguish all life in the universe just as easily,

collapsing beneath the rules of physics, erasing everything. humanity has ever been or ever could be. We wouldn't be able to stop it. Solar flares, black holes are even reversal of the magnetic poles. The universe is an endless, merciless, horrific void filled with uncertainty. Our place in it is absolutely insignificant. We are but parasites lingering in a hostile bubble, ready to burst at any given moment. Yet we never take a moment to appreciate our luck. every breath might be a last so make sure it's worthwhile those were the words that raised through my mind as I watched John fall lifeless to the ground dead by his own hands there were words spoken by and my old professor a genius with a nihilistic personality

making sure we all knew just how fragile life truly is John had given his life for us standing his ground as the aliens charged yet they only needed a simple touch to end his existence. That image, the fear and surprise, have been locked in my mind forever. We ran through the airlock, sealing it on our way to make sure nothing else could get through ever again. Once back on the moon's surface, we had to walk around Ares and travel three hours just to get to the factory. We couldn't even use a buggy, unless we wanted to get detected by its automatic tracking system. It had been two hours since we studied our EVAs, but with our modern tanks, we could easily last eight hours before running out of oxygen, leaving us with ample time

to get going. If we were lucky, the factory still had a functioning life support system, despite having been offline for the past two years. We walked slowly, exhausted from the combat and subsequent escape. Despite gravity being only one sixth compared to that of Earth, our suits made movement difficult, and in the process of fleeing Jennifer had dropped the whiteboard, leaving us with no means of communication. Night had long since taken over on the surface of the moon, plunging it into eternal darkness. The picturesque view most think astronauts have, with the Earth shining brilliantly in the background, was not one we had the privilege of witnessing.

Since Ares held the backside of the moon, we had little more than tiny stars filling up the sky, barely providing enough light to illuminate the dark, barren landscape before us. if nothing else at least the darkness could provide us cover during our escape. Two hours passed, and we inched our way closer to the factory. Our bath had barely lit up by our weak flashlights, purposely set low to avoid detection. We could just barely see the peak of the factory's observation tower, and we knew we were getting close.

As we took a break to admire the magnificently tall structure, we noticed something drifting across the sky, barely visible in the darkness of space. It was another drop pot. It shut down, creating a minor crater on impact. Like the others, it had an obsidian black capsule, and multiple massive blisters, each seeming to contain an invader.

I gave the others a final glance, reassuring them that we would hold our ground until the very end. With nowhere else to run, we didn't have any other options. The first blister burst and a slimy liquid tried to trickle down, boiling and evaporating before it could even hit the ground. One of the aliens crawled out and got to its feet. Without hesitation, we opened fire, putting multiple rounds into both its head and torso. After about 15 shots, we finally brought it down. Before we could react, the remaining five blisters ruptured and more monstrosities crawled out.

This time we didn't even wait for the liquid to clear before we started firing upon them. On Earth, the spectacle would have been loud enough to rupture your eardrums and alert the enemy from miles away. Yet on the moon, murder was a silent process. Any sound originating within the chambers of our rifles was quickly quelled as it met the empty vacuum outside. The only thing we could hear were the vibrations propagating

through our own bodies, shaking violently with each pull of the trigger. With limited ammunition, it wasn't long before we ran out. Two aliens, both riddled with bullets, kept charging at us. I hit one with the butt of my rifle and shoved it to the ground. I kept hitting it where it lay, not stopping for a second until it resembled little more than a pile of minced meat. The second one that managed to prevail through the hail of bullets charged at Daniel. He grabbed onto its torso with its massive arms. within a second Daniel had fallen victim to their control

and pointed his weapon at himself before pulling a trigger nothing happened his gun was empty once the first option failed Daniel attempted to rip his space suit apart an impossible task luckily unknown to the alien

both Jennifer and I ran at the creature and pummeled it to the ground smashing its horrific body with her empty rifle not stopping until it died. Daniel had been freed, but in the process, he fell unconscious. We quickly investigated his limp body for any injuries or holes in the suit, but apart from his untimely slumber, he appeared fine. We looked at each other, realizing we'd have to carry him the rest of the way.

I'd never been so thankful for low gravity. The rest of the factory came into view shortly after, an impressive structure full of empty hallways and failed experiments, most classified above my own clearance. It had been abandoned after the development of the PAW stations. They were the best our technology had to offer, and yet they'd been eliminated within the first hour of the invasion. Our fail-safe end, humanity's last hope against an inevitable end, had been destroyed. We entered through an airlock as I carried Daniel on my back. What lay ahead of us was a massive network of hallways, expertly organized to keep anything confidential out of sight.

At absence of a maintenance crew, the station had fallen dark, with only a minimal amount of emergency lights to guide our way. Unfortunately, the life support had been turned off in our absence, meaning we had to rely on the constantly diminishing oxygen supply within our suits. The factory, like Ares, had effectively lost its atmosphere. Of course there were tanks of oxygen spread across the station by each airlock, but we would still be confined to our suits while we weren't. Both Jennifer and I had been stationed there during our tenure aboard Ares, however I suspected she knew more about the station than I did, as she guided us through the long hallways without an ounce of doubt.

After several twists and turns, we ended up in a massive control, area. It was dark and every system had been deactivated to preserve power. Jennifer searched the room and quickly found a notepad and a pen. She grabbed them and jotted down a single word. Faraday. Then she clicked her radio on and put Daniel down onto one of the chairs, making sure he still had enough oxygen available. With mild trepidation, I turned my own radio on and for the first time since we'd left the laboratories back at Section 3, we could talk to each other. Each major station here is built within a Faraday cage. Nothing can get in or out

without being connected to the mainframe. We should be fine as long as we're just using our suits radio systems, Jennifer said. All right. So you mind telling me what we're actually doing here? Shouldn't we get it the fuck off the moon and warn Earth? I asked. I don't know if we can. How come? According to the records back at Section 5, Two shuttles attempted to evacuate, but none even made it off the surface. These creatures must be tracking our systems. I figured we might stand a better chance here, but still... Do we have any chance at all?

She sighed. Maybe, but there's something we have to do first. What do you mean? Did they ever tell you about a project called The Last Resort? I immediately knew what the project entailed. It was something I read about during my initiation, but back then it had been little more than rumors and whispers. Just a theory none of us ever believed would come to fruition.

As I processed the shock, Daniel started to wake up. He quickly noticed us talking and turned on his radio. So we're talking now. Are we safe? I shook my head. Not yet, but they can't hear us here. That's a relief. I was about to go crazy.

Jennifer interrupted. None of that matters anymore. It's time. Time for what? Daniel asked. We're going to blow up, Aries. Part 6. There will come a time

when the last word is spoken by the last human left alive. A moment heard by none to be forgotten by time itself. There will come a time where love dies and the last heart stops beating. One, finally.

and embrace before death takes us apart and one last kiss to say goodbye. Humanity, for all of its worth, will perish like so many other species before us. We'll fight it, tooth and nail, but no matter the case, our time will eventually come. There'll come a time where all hope seems lost, but we will not give up because our lives and the lives of those we love are worth fighting for. As we prepared for our last mission, I recounted the events of the past day. Something about the situation didn't sit right with me. We'd been monitoring the oncoming invasion for the last 50 years, yet we'd completely missed its imminent arrival.

It doesn't make any sense, I whispered to myself, forgetting everything would be broadcast to the others. What doesn't? Jennifer asked. They're numbers. We counted what, about 150 signatures. aboard Aries, a weirdly small force that arrived five years ahead of schedule. How do you explain that? The ship we detected back in 1970 was the size of the entire United States. But it's not here. What are you saying? Daniel chimed in. What if this is just a scout party? What if the main invasion is still five years away? If they're all confined within Ares and we blow it up,

it should give us enough time to make it back to earth and warn them my words though meant to comfort hardly brightened the mood if a scout party took out the best we had to fight them i'm afraid we are utterly fucked jennifer responded well at least we know how they operate if anything i'd say that's the best advantage we possibly could have gotten we need to make it back to earth i said it was a simple enough plan in theory but even if we managed to blow up Aries, it wouldn't ensure that every single alien died in the blast. So, um, the last resort, what is it? Daniel asked. You know how Nikola Tesla worked on wireless transfer of electricity? Jennifer said. Daniel Knollied. Well, it's like that, except weaponized.

It was supposed to be a device that irreversibly damaged electrical systems by overcharging them, harmless to people, but it could render any enemy station useless. unfortunately had the side effect of blowing everything to pieces so we repurposed it as a measure of last resort should anything take over aries well better than killing everyone with nukes i suppose don't worry we have those two let's not kill ourselves why we still have a chance though i shot back in the end we knew at least one of us had to escape to get a warning out to earth if we could kill any of these bastards in the process that was just a man we could kill any of these bastards in the process that was just a a bonus. Before we could fire the weapon, we'd need to restore the factory's power. Jennifer would take that task and head for the basement. Once there, she could redirect any power from the neighboring stations and funnel it into the last resort. In the meantime, Daniel and I would climb the observation tower from where the last resort could be controlled. Once activated and areas had been destroyed, we would retreat to the main hangar and pray that any of the

escape shuttle still remained functional. Fuck it, let's not die today, Daniel said. Once we leave this room, we can't communicate any more. Should they hijack our channels, we're done for. We need to maintain total radio silence for the next few hours,

no matter what happens, I ordered. They nodded and quickly turned off their radios. It was time to re-enter the silent vacuum outside. No sooner had I turned my radio off, before I regretted not speaking any words of comfort. For all I knew, these could have been our last words ever spoken. We left the control room, equipped with a little more than some paper and pens. Jennifer instantly ran to the lower levels,

while Daniel and I headed for the elevator that led up towards the observation tower. With the power mostly out, the elevator didn't run, which meant we had to move up the ladder within the shaft itself. It was an exhausting climb, despite the lower gravity. We made slow progress, but determined to save ourselves and we eventually got there. Daniel gave me a look, not knowing what to do. His face was wet from sweat, both from nervousness and exhaustion. I gave him a set of basic instructions, just which switches should be on and which off.

He diligently followed orders while I started to reprogram the weapon. While its basic functions were active, we had to wait for Jennifer to turn the power back on before we could initiate the firing sequence. Half an hour quickly passed, and I started to get nervous. Another ten minutes and I was about ready to go looking for her. As I jotted down an explanation to Daniel, I noticed one of the lights turned on, alerting us that the power had returned.

Without hesitation, we started the firing sequence and counted down the seconds until activation. Even from the observation tower, we could just barely see the peak of Ares, a place where hundreds of great lives and trillions of unimportant dollars had been lost. It had all been for nothing. The weapon finally charged. Ready, I wrote down on a piece of paper.

He nodded and we fired the weapon. For a moment, I feared that Ares was too rid of oxygen to ignite in the blast, but these doubts were quickly stifled as a massive explosion emerged over the horizon. Tons of debris shot up for them. the moon surface, powerful enough to escape orbit. A few seconds later, the ground beneath us rumbled. Shockwaves couldn't travel through a vacuum, but the explosion itself would have been enough to shake the ground.

I could see Daniel mouth silently. I attempted to scan Ares for any identifiable heat signatures and radio signals, but in the wake of the explosion, I could only get a static-like image that proved impossible to read. There was no way to know how many alieners. had survived the explosion, but I knew that whatever was left, they'd head straight for us. We evacuated the tower. Luckily, the elevator had been activated alongside the rest of the station, meaning we didn't have to climb down. It was a minor victory, but it came with the downside of a

re-establishing atmosphere. With the power returned, we knew it was only a moment of time before the generators down in the basement produced an effective atmosphere. Soon, we'd be able to breathe and hear. By all measurable metrics, time was running out. The hangar in the factory was filled with experimental vehicles, most only used for local travel and unhelpful in our escape. Despite that, the factory was equipped with several escape shuttles, two of which were still docked. Back on earth, common fuel only has a shelf life of about three to six months. Kerosene fuel, on the other hand, can last years without degrading, and the fact we had plenty of it. Once we got down there, I started the fueling process. Still, Jennifer was nowhere

in sight. Once the process of refueling had started, I took a control panel and scanned for any signs of life in the vicinity. In the distance, only a mile away, I could see dozens of creatures approaching us. Fuck, I shouted, the words only echoing within my own suit. We needed an answer. We needed an hour to fuel and based on the invaders speed they'd be here just shy of that the hour slowly ticked down by each passing minute our deaths approached couldn't risk waiting any longer so I signalled for Daniel to stay put while I went to search for Jennifer based on her signature I tracked her to the basement of the factory running around erratically I rushed through the dimly lit halls slowly starting to hear the echo of my own footsteps. By then, the atmosphere was almost fully restored.

The basement was a massive room, filled with generators converting moon dust to breathable oxygen. Jennifer was moving from generator to generator, deactivating them in an attempt to stop air from being produced. She wasn't even wearing a helmet anymore. I approached her, noticing that each pillar next to the generators had been mounted with explosive charges. We need to stop them, she shouted, as she noticed my presence. I took my own helmet off, letting in a breath of stale air. We're about to leave. Come on.

It's too late. They're almost here. We need to bring this station down with us. I glanced at the charges, noticing a timer slowly ticking down. Within the next half hour, the station would blow. Unless we could escape, we'd be disintegrated with it. How did you even find these? I used to work here, remember.

Now put your helmet back on. I'm about to evacuate the air from this place. With that, the atmosphere once again vanished, and we were plunged into everlasting silence. We left the basement and rushed back to the shuttle, which was still ten minutes away from being ready. As I prepared the craft, the others stood in uncomfortable silence. We all knew that the station could be run over at any moment.

Yet we had no weapons, nor numbers to fight back with. I glanced over at the control panel, the blips on the radar growing ever closer. And then we felt it. The station shaking as the first set of doors blew open, and we still weren't ready to leave. We looked at each other, doubt and fear on all of our faces. Then another shake, as a second set of doors were breached.

They were getting closer. and less than five minutes they'd be upon us how long Jennifer jotted down on the paper I held up my hand showing we still needed five more minutes before we could launch

I looked at the door wondering when it would blow open and the monstrosities were barge in to end us I knew what had to be done someone had to lead them away from the hangar trick them into another part of the station as I turned around I saw Daniel inside the shuttle

detaching a portable radio from the dashboard he'd made the same realization as myself and was going to sacrifice himself I tried taking it from him but he pushed me away and rushed for the doors before they closed I could see him flick on the radio

creating a mess of radio signals that would detract the aliens since it wasn't the one built into his suits they wouldn't be able to control him. He started running in the opposite direction of the hangar, and the aliens followed diligently. Jennifer and I boarded the shuttle hesitantly, and immediately got it running.

She pointed back in the direction Daniel had run, but it was pointless. He'd given us an opportunity, and if we didn't take it, we'd perish alongside him. We shot through the evacuation tunnel, garnering enough speed to easily escape the moon's weak and unstable gravity. Even then we couldn't speak until the oxygen levels rose within the shuttle. All we could do was stare out the window and wait for the charges to detonate.

There couldn't be much of a blast to speak off without oxygen to carry the fire. The station simply collapsed as the beams evaporated, killing anything still within. Daniel had saved our life. and taken down what remained of the scout party in the process. Once at a safe distance, we finally removed our helmets, but kept the radio off. We made it, Jennifer said with a somber tone of voice. It was a bitter sweet victory and led out a sigh of both sadness and relief. We'd failed to protect the earth, and areas had been taken out by a simple scout party.

It was only thanks to the heroism of our first. fallen friends that we were given a chance to warn Earth. We'd survived the first wave, but as previously suspected, a much larger force will reach us in the next five years. With current technologies and the multiple wars we fight among ourselves back on Earth, we don't stand a chance. This will be our last end, and the only hope of victory we have is if we stand together as one. Achilles four. Attention.

This is the crew log of Ensign Colby Jordan. We're all designated as systems technician. Current assignment is to cargo acquisition vessel, Achilles IV, which is undergoing post-flight processing and containment procedures in docking port two at Station Alpha Centauri. Information contained in this file has not yet been verified or vetted. Level 1 analysis of file indicates 11 security breaches committed in the creation of this file. Please set your system security to Epsilon while accessing this data.

Remember your safety and the company's safety are one and the same. Log number 1. August 14th, 2074. I really have no idea how to begin this since I... Since I don't normally bother with doing logs in the first place. I always felt like a pointless exercise. since the ship AI keeps track of everything and the Jericho Company X-X don't give a shit what we think as long as it doesn't impact on our jobs. I had to fight dirty with the Achilles AI just to get access to the logging program.

So, I'll just be blunt. They're dead. Everyone else is dead. And the ship doesn't believe it. Impossible, right? In the Big Wigs back on Earth create a perfect system, one that can't go wrong. They're so trusting of our machine captains that the corporate newsletters are always spouting off about the 92% mission success rate. Jericho AI has a thousand eyes and ears.

It can take control of any ship system and uses cold and practical logic to get the job done. Why even send humans on missions anymore? except us system technicians know the bit are true the company can't afford to fashion every ship in the fleet with a true AI so they slapped together a bunch of cognitive programs into one fancy package designed to mimic a true artificial intelligence it does fine with handling ship functions but it's not an intellect that can think and adapt that's why cargo ships are sent out with a crew of six humans

and why the captain isn't mechanical but flesh and blood. It's also why we have implants in our chest that transmit our bioredings to the ship, because that's the only way the system knows we're alive. Now that little fact is rather important because Jericho trusts its stead of the Art Tech far more than it trusts its employees. Our rank affects which ship systems we can access without authorization from a higher wreck. The captain has full authorization, as one might expect. but only if the computer allows it.

And little old me and Ensign is at the bottom rung of the ladder. I can't even make a log entry without Captain Westinghouse's approval. But if the captain is rendered dead or incapacitated, the next highest ranking crew member gets control. We don't make that determination though. No, the computer does. Because even though the system can't determine if we're alive or dead without help, it decides how to dole out control.

Basically, we have a chain of command dictated by our implants. Now, I should have control. I don't. Westinghouse and the others are dead, but their implants aren't. The expansion got them, but the computer still thinks they're alive. As a result, I'm locked out of most ship systems because I need captain authentication to do anything. But us techs are tricky bastards. I managed to put together a diagnostic program that forces the ship computer to go into maintenance mode for 21 minutes and three seconds every 24 hours.

In that time, while the computer is distracted, I have the ability to enter the system and whittle away at the security firewalls and encryptions. It's been 57 hours since the crew died, and this log is my first success. I have to cut it short because I'm almost out of time. I'm going for the communication system next. I'll transmit a distress call and this log hopes someone intercepts it in time because this ship is on its way to Alpha Centauri Station and it cannot be allowed to dock.

Repeat. Do not allow this ship to dock under any circumstances. Log 2. August 18th. 2074. Three days attempting to send out a signal. Three days wasted. The expansion ate the karma rate. Tad demoralized right now. So I'm going to waste a day's access time with another log entry. Even if I can't transmit any data off ship, I can at least keep a record of what happened here in case the ship survives but I don't. Though honestly it'll be better if the

ship doesn't survive either. I'm not ready to go that direction yet. We have two months before Achilles IV arrives at the station. I have time. I suppose I should talk about the others. Florin, Matt, Kindie, Lars, and Westinghouse. None of them deserved what happened. They're all good workers, committed to the unofficial company slogan, the cargo comes first. I won't say that we were great friends since I spent more time with the computer than talking to them about their home lives or significant others But I'd sip a libation pack with any one of them None of them were incompetent either They didn't die just because one of them got greedy or hot-ill did something stupid

I know Jericho will try to spin events so they don't have to pay through the nose to reimburse their families But they deserve all the credits they can get They had no idea what they were walking into. None of us did. RH1129 looked like a million other planets in the Galactic Survey database, a barren rock with lots of free minerals to exploit. All we had to do was keep the ship in orbit and sit back while the drones went down and did the work. I didn't do the survey map myself, but Lars had been practically giddy about the place after his analysis.

There was a plentiful amount of anomalous material littering the surface. Some of it piled up in mounds as high as 300 meters. We didn't even need to break out the mining drones to collect samples. If the material turned out to be valuable, as the spectrographic report suggested, we'd have some serious bonuses coming our way. It was an easy job. Too easy. The drones only took four standard days to delay.

deliver the sample payload to the Achilles for. All the drone scans checked out. No biological contaminants. No abarant energy readings. No explosive properties. The cargo wouldn't have made it into the ship had we tripped any warning bells. The cargo shuttle went into cargo bay three without incident, and everyone was there to greet it. Mads and Kindi were the only ones who had to be there since they were running the metallurgical tests.

but, well, the other three had decided to sneak a peek as well. This was a brand new substance, finding that few ship crews ever came across. Forget our bonuses. This kind of thing could get us into the history books. Why wasn't I there? That was going to be, but I received an emergency message from the computer concerning the drone task force on the planet.

The drones were my territory. I confess that I got territorial about them, I don't label them or give them names. We go through too many of them for me to want to get attached. So I diverted to my workstation on the bridge and viewed the message, right as the cargo was getting offloaded back in Bay 3. I admit that I was distracted from the goings on in Bay 3 at first because the message had me at a complete loss.

All five drones assigned to the surface that just died. All energy, readings and signals were zeroed out. And it had happened almost simultaneously, all of them going dark within the span of ten seconds. It didn't make any sense. Certainly wasn't the first time I'd lost a drone or even an entire squad, but they'd been on mapping missions miles apart from each other. Some kind of natural disaster, a massive storm or earthquake. The planet didn't even have weather. The computer would have warned us about any incoming media. or tectonic shifts.

So, what got the drums? Well, it was this mystery that occupied my thoughts when I first heard the screams coming from Bay Three. I don't really want to dwell on what happened right now. I'm pretty low already. I'm almost out of time for today. Let the record show that I'm no coward. I'm just lucky, if you can call my current state of it, if you can call my current state, if I'm not. affairs being lucky.

Log 3. September 1st, 2074. I just noticed the date. It's been a while, hasn't it? I've been using my access windows to try to reprogram the system to acknowledge me as a sole survivor, but the computer's not going for it.

Those damn implants. I suppose it's a good thing the computer has a directive constituting a regard for life so high that it won't declare a coup member dead unless the The implant says so. The only way to kill the directive is to kill the computer, which would kill the ship, and then kill me. Well, I should probably answer the million credit question you've been dying to ask me.

How are the implants still functioning if the crew's dead? Well, by the time you're reading this, there might be an answer, but right now I have no idea. My best guess is that the expansion took control of the implant. took control of the implant somehow is replicating the vital signs of my crew. The fact that it's sophisticated enough to do that scares the crap out of me. But then, I've been scared every minute of every day since the crew died. Okay, right. Time to talk about the expansion. That's my name for it, and it does what it says on the tin. It expands.

Thanks to the computer lockouts, I only have so many analysis. tools at my disposal, but it appears to be composed of some kind of microscopic entity akin to a virus or a nanobot. Its main mass resembles Earth-based moss. Only its colours change from red to blue and back at random intervals. It doesn't move except when it's growing, which appears to be done by breaking down other materials and assimilating it into its structure. When it grows, it grows very quickly. In my attempts to sway the computer to my side, I've been able to access security footage from the onboard surveillance system.

I was able to watch the last two and a half minutes of my crew's existence before the expansion got the cameras, and the ship initiated a total lockdown around Cargo Bay 3. I've had over a month now to deal with what I saw. I'd like to think I've processed it and moved on, but God, I get chilling. I was just thinking about it. Up until 1532 hours,

the video depicts pretty standard docking procedures. The cargo shuttle comes in and latches to the floor. It takes seven minutes for decontamination and threat scans to do their business, so nothing visible is going on at all. At 1539 hours, the system gives the okay. The bay pressurizes and the crew enter the zero gravity zone, using magboots to stick to the floor. of the room. While this is going on, an automatic servo crane is removing the sample canister

and locking it down. Mads goes over to it. Kendi is right behind him, and the others are hanging back. Everybody seemed real eager to uncork this vintage wine we'd found, but they were all following established procedure. Well, if I could pin a negative on them, it was with Mads and Kendi who were definitely in a rush to study this new substance. 1542 hours, Mads opens the secured access point to the cargo canister in order to get a micro sample for study, which is less than a millimeter in diameter, there's a number of filters on it to help control substance spread. That was enough room to allow the stuff to breach containment.

It comes out like tooth gel bursting from a tube that just got squeezed too hard. Mads had his face right up to the axis point when it happened. Obviously, Mads was the first to get broken down. His face disappeared into the substance, followed by his head, and neck, and then the rest of him. His arms and legs flailed helplessly around like snakes on hot coals. I suspected he was already quite dead at that point. Kindi's noble instincts got the better of him, and he grabbed one of Mads' arms and tried to pull him free. All he accomplished was to become the second victim as the staff worked its way onto his body too.

The poor guy screaming as it took his hands and then took the rest of him. Westinghouse and the others backed off and ran for the airlock, but the computer was already one step ahead them, as was the expansion. It was spreading out all over the cargo bay, a living carpet of hungry alien cells latching onto and absorbing everything edible. the cargo containers, equipment for our shuttles and drones, lubricant for our machinery, and even the cargo shuttle itself. The computer couldn't allow a thing like that to get any further into the ship, so it trapped the captain and the others in there. I could hear Westinghouse

screaming at the computer to let him out, even used his command override to try to get the door open. I think he forgot about company policy involving mission priorities. We know the tales about entire crews having been lost on these missions, but the ships fly back just fine. Well, it's simple math, right. If you lose the ship, you lose the crew. If you lose the crew, you might save the ship. Well, a ship-eating organism is too much of a threat to risk getting loose, and even a captain's authority can't change that.

It ate the contents of the cargo bay as easily as it took in Mads and Gindi. In some places it would bunch up and send strands of itself into other parts of the room, using zero gravity to get around quicker. In short order, the room resembled a thick spider web in there, strands of red and blue covering all walls and flooring, with bits of clothing and other material hanging off it in places. For dessert, it took out all four cameras, ending the available footage at 1544 hours.

I never did see what happened with the others. They had fled to a corner of the room not covered by an operational camera. I think they were still screaming when the last camera fell. They may have still been alive. Considering that their implants still claim they are alive, I doubt there'll ever be a clear answer to their times of death. Since then my ability to monitor the expansion is very limited. Surface scans can't determine if it's organic.

or artificial. Well, surface scans are just about useless. Gives me either false readings or no readings at all. It explains why we got the all clear to take it on board. At least the expansion can't absorb everything or this ship would have been consumed within hours. It has an appetite for all sorts of materials, but apparently it doesn't like DuraCrete, the synthetic material composing the walls of the bay and the sample container it was in. It also can't stomach unnatural materials like polyester. The computer has locked down all three doors into the bay.

All ventilation shafts and other openings shut off with Dura Creek shutters. The ship could eject the cargo bay into space, but not with five crew members showing life signs inside and not without captain authorization. So, yep, not an option for me. Yet despite the lockdown, it got to the Comerang. I don't think it targeted it deliberately. The ship lost one of our backup power nodes at the same time. I've had some time to study the damage report and my guess is that the expansion found a power

cable not adequately covered by the containment shutters. We follow the cable all the way to the power node. Before new shutters could be implemented, we got to the commere. This stuff is on the outside of the ship. There are a number of ship components it could feed on out there, but it's not spreading. external cameras show the external bits are dormant, maybe even dead. I think it has a problem with complete vacuum. That might be why it acted inert on R-H-1129.

The planet had no atmosphere. It hasn't spread further on the ship since eating the comma ray. With any luck, it won't get any further. But it won't do me any good, unless I can gain control of the ship. Speaking of which, I better get back to. it or else all these logs will be for nothing. Log 4 September 15th, 2074. It got to cargo bay too. It got the food. My fault for getting so stupidly complacent. Can't blame the computer or the company for this one. Expansion had been so quiet that I thought it had gone

into a type of stasis. Like what it did back on our age show. 1129. It had eaten everything it could, right? Well, yesterday it pulled a fast one by suddenly breaching Calgo Bay 2, where we kept the lion's share of the food stop. I'd move some of it into the ship's culinary section for my own convenience, so it wasn't a total loss. I still have a month's worth of food at normal consumption.

I can probably ration it to last until at least I reached Station Alpha Centauri in six weeks. But that's only problem number two. Number one is that it got past containment again, and that's a bit more serious. Thanks to my constant hacking, I managed to gain access to structural scan records. It turns out that JuraCrete isn't impervious to the expansion. It just slows down the absorption rate to a crawl. There was a weak section between Bay 2 and 3. It also means that other parts of the cargo bay could go at any time. And you know, it would be nice if I could talk to this misbegotten son of a trash compactor about it and create a new containment line in the adjacent sections to cargo bay three, but, well, I can't. Still locked out. So I just have to stay out

of the vulnerable sections and trust in the computer safeguards. But it's all just a stopgap measure. My best calculation is that the expansion will infest the entire ship within five weeks. It'll hit key systems like propulsion, the antimatter power plant and life support before then. Starving to death is the least of my concerns. Alert, station authority has issued a cautionary advisement. An accident has occurred in dockingport 2. Please avoid use of docking port 2 until further notice. Remember, your safety and the company's safety are one the same. Log 5, September 16th, 2074, comes up with this bullshit. Which company executive decided that all us human employees were too stupid to be trusted with their own ships?

You know, all us dummies with advanced degrees and years of space travel under our belts. But I guess they know better. They know us learned folk are just rife with dysfunction. can't possibly give us control that'd be too much well a functional mind whether living or mechanical would look at this situation and say hmm we appear to have a biohazard contaminating our ship maybe we should stop the ship and purge it let's set off the distress beacon or retool a probe to go ahead of us and broadcast for help let's do anything besides dumbly flying back to our home base with a

microorganism that eats practically everything But I get it now. Functional mines aren't company policy. They want obedient mines. They want the ship and their cargo back. The cargo comes first. Company motto and all that. Where else would you have your ship computer automatically head back to the base despite knowing it has a biohazard on board? That's why we're flying back, you know. It's what they call a non-responsive command protocol. If the designated captain is deemed alive and alert by his or her implant, then a captain who refuses to give orders is considered compromised with the rest of the crew likely in the same boat. In the case of a compromised commander, the ship automatically returns home unless his status changes. It's considered an anti-piracy tactic, making the assumption that a compromised captain is either being coerced by pirates or is aiming to become one. Yeah, I know, I know. This is all unproductive ranting.

If this gets read, it'll be by some accountant trying to tabulate the costs, or a manager trying to figure out how to spin this in the media. They're all about company policy. This entry is just a distraction, because I'm about to try something dangerous. If it works, it should buy me more time, hopefully enough to get me back to controlled space. If it doesn't, there's a bit of a controlled space. This will be my last entry.

I don't want to end my record without a last word or two. One more thing. I guess I hadn't spelled it out clearly enough. I'm pretty convinced the Jericho leadership is made up of nothing but amoral bastards. But I'm sure we all knew that already. System reports. Data breach on September 18, 2074, has caused file corruption. Hard drive damage located.

unable to act repairs. The next log entry, designated entry 6 and created on September 17, 20174, has been classified as 96% irretrievable. Continuing to next entry, Log 7, October 2nd, 274. I did it. I managed to pull off a minor miracle. Let's start with the fact that I knew the ship wouldn't make it back to control. if I kept letting the computer call the shots. And I admit that my deep hack stunt didn't help matters.

The vacuum break I created two weeks ago caused a lot of damage to ship systems so thankfully nothing vital. But the vacuum brake is holding. Expansion has infested the entire 12% of the ship it had access to but it can't get any further. Not with a cold vacuum of space blocking it.

So I tried a different with the computer. I bought a Captain Kirk, as us techs like to call it. I use some hard logic on the system, managed to convince it that the life science coming from the cargo bay couldn't be human life science any longer because, A, they'd been exposed to hard vacuum for 15 days, and B, had not moved out of the bay for weeks.

Even a system as unfathomably stubborn as a cargo ship computer could figure that one out. So I'm the designated captain now. That's my minor miracle. Unfortunately, my options are limited. I can't jettison the expansion now. It's infected too much of the ship's structure. The expansion also took down the ship's probe launcher and all the probes with it.

So I can't rig up a probe to transmit a distress call. Still, at least now I have access to navigation and propulsion. and I can use the more powerful ship scanners on the expansion since the drone scans were unreliable. Best of all, I don't have to worry about stupid hacking windows anymore. I can do these logs any time I want, so if you don't mind, I've got some new toys to play with. Hopefully I'll have a plan of action the next time I sit down

to record another one of these apocalyptic diaries and it'll be nothing but good news from here on out. Station alert. All transit to Section Zone 3 has now been prohibited. We're experiencing a significant power fluctuation in that region, and the issue is being addressed. All non-essential personnel still in Zone Section 3 should remain at their current location until further notice. Remember, your safety and the company's safety are one and the same.

Log 8, October 4th, 20174. Not good. news. Not at all. My mom was one of those kinds of people who never saw a doctor. She put her faith in herbal remedies and clean living and positive thinking. And she stunk to her beliefs even when she started getting pains in her chest and her breathing was growing shallower. I used to think it was a sign of insanity, but more and more I think it was actually a sign of fear. She was afraid of reality intruding into her happiness. But having someone show a picture of her child, chest with a tumour growing in her lungs would forever spoil the magic in her life, replacing

it with cold dread and the omnipresence of mortality. She died in ignorance of what had killed her. A blessing the rest of the family didn't get when the coroner told us about her cancer. Right now, I envy her ignorance. I've seen the cancer that's killing this ship, and I fear it's a fatal prognosis. This stuff isn't what I'd call. smart, not human smart, but it has a few brain cells somewhere in that mess of mychoid cells. Yes, mycoid, as in fungus. I have no idea how to define it better than that. I'm no xenobiologist or even a regular biologist.

It might be related to a mushroom, but, well, it's a smart mushroom. I did a full thermal scan of the infected areas, since this stuff gives off a lot of heat as it grows, and the scan showed that it's tunneling through the floor, the ceiling and even the outer hole. It's avoiding the vacuum by going inside the struts and plating, digging right up the middle. Most of the supports have a thickness of five centimetres, which doesn't offer much wiggle room, but this stuff is carving out tunnels only one centimetre thick. It's slow-going, but if slow-going works for tortoises, it will work for this stuff too. The computer projects the closest expansion mass will bypass my vacuum brake in nine days,

most likely emerging in the engine room. I can depressurize the engine room, but I'll never be able to repressurize it, or else the expansion would immediately infested and take out the engines. Worse, even if it can't get the engines, the stuff will just shrug its metaphorical shoulders and tunnel to the next section. Well, I can see where this is going. The expansion will keep coming and the only way I can slow it down

is to keep depressurizing more and more of the ship. Eventually I'll be stuck on the bridge sleeping on the floor surrounded by trash and my own waist waiting for the expansion to reach my last sanctuary. I am the captain of a sinking ship

what an honor for me. The rescue pod remains an option but every space mariner knows the odds of a successful rescue outside of controlled space is next to nil. I can control the navigation system now, so I can divert our course if I wish. I suppose I could park the ship next to a quasar, so I'd have a spectacular light show to watch before the ship disintegrates. But I'm not going down with this ship. You hear me, you miserable corporate excrement. I'm not dying for you or the company. I'm riding this ship of the damned until I find a good place to get off.

I'll send it straight into Alpha Centauri myself and melt this ship into slag if it means destroying the expansion But I'm living through this So says I The captain of the Achilles 4 And so it shall be done Log 9

October 18th, 274 I couldn't help but reread my last entry I can't tell if I'm getting loony Or just downright scary considering I haven't talked to another sentient soul in weeks I don't think I can be blamed for going her little nuts the ship computer can't hold a decent conversation and these logs are just me talking to myself

I guess it's true what they say about solitary confinement it's the best punishment out there though it still pales to the type of torture when you're trapped in a prison cell with a predator that's doing everything it can to get to you At least the astrophysics classes I took in training are paying off. The computer and I came up with an alternate course that should shave four days off the trip. So that means I have five days before we enter controlled space.

That puts me inside the range of the quantum beacons, which will pick up the lower power distress signal from the rescue part. You know, I think I might live through this. It's going to be tight though. Half the ship is already depressurized. I have an evax suit available to get through the vacuum, but breathing isn't my biggest problem. The stuff is digging through the altar hull as well, and my rescue pod is right in its path. The best estimate I can come up with is that the rescue pod will be consumed right around the point I reach controlled space. I can't get more precise than that.

Whichever life won this race takes the whole enchilada. Well, space mariners like to claim we're part of an ancient tradition that goes back centuries, to the times of wooden ships travelling Earth's oceans, spending months or even years away from their homeland in search of fame, fortune, or just plain survival. I've heard lots of tales over the years of sailors meeting all manners of disasters, from freak storms to hidden shores to belligerent pirates. The tales are always stuck out in my mind, weren't the dramatic ones, but the story is about slow death. A ship that wandered into a be-calmed zone, where the wind refused to blow for days or even weeks, the crew depleting their stores and their water, succumbing to starvation, dehydration, and infighting. Or they contract a nasty disease that spreads all through their ranks.

The men dying to an enemy they can't fight or flee from. What was it like to be stuck inside a death tram like that? Praying for a strong wind, hoping for rescue. longing for a piece of dry land to escape to. I really hate those stories now. Log 10, October 21st, 274. 12 hours before I reach controlled space. 12 lonely hours.

I mean, what's 12 hours more in the scheme of things? I've been stuck on this ship for over 3,600 hours now. 12 hours is easy, easy. I'm just really bored. Also really freaked out. Is that possible being bored and freaked out at the same time? Or is my mood just taking turns going from one to the other? I can't tell anymore.

I quarantined myself to the bridge for days now. My leisure options are limited. The company is a real problem with people using bridge hardware for entertainment purposes, and while I could hack into my own stash of videos, I might very well jeopardize some key systems in the process. So I've been doing a lot of reading, mostly status reports and training simulations and other fun things like that.

I also decided to look over the recorded orbital scans of RH 1129, not because I was really looking for a clue or epiphany concerning the expansion, but because, again, I'm really bored. You know what I found? A whole lot of mouths. The thing is, well, they are literally everywhere on the surface. There is a pattern to them.

The biggest mounds are clustered together, in some cases, lined up symmetrically. The 3D imaging pictures show some of these clusters going on for miles and miles. And the more I looked at them, the more they resemble the outlines of cityscapes, with the tallest one substituting for skyscrapers and numerous small mounds, stepping in for apartment buildings and houses. And, well, it got me thinking. What if those mounds used to be buildings? Maybe this isn't a fanciful notion created by a man both on Borough Tyman with too much time on his hands.

I have to think that this planet wasn't always a wasteland. It occupies a gold-lock zone and has the right planetary spin. Gravity is comparable to Earth. It just lacks an atmosphere, and that's a big problem. Then again, maybe it did have an atmosphere once. Maybe the expansion came to RH1129 Or was created by an intelligent species that once lived there And it just did what it does well

It ate everything it could Producing a fellow sentient species into nothing but mounds of organic refuse Maybe it destroyed the atmosphere as well Or maybe the species destroyed the atmosphere in order to stop it from going any further Can't prove any of it but It makes for a pretty depressing tail. It's also a good argument for why the ship needs to fly into a sun. Good thing I've pre-programmed the flight computer to do so once I'm off the ship. I just have to send a short

range signal from the pod and voila. The Achilles four becomes part of the great beyond. Well, I'd say I'd be sad about it, but I kind of hate this ship now. Twelve hours to go. Like I said, easy, peasy. Log 10 addendum. I can't even. I'm not in the right frame of mind to do a log, but a record has to be kept. I have to find a way to get this out.

Find a way to transmit this. It's all I have left now. Others must know what happened here. Others besides Jericho. Party's gone. No, not because the expansion ate it. That'd be unfair, but it would make sense. self-replicating spore-like nanostructures must do what they must

The pod is gone because I decided to send the navigation system my course correction while I was still on the bridge I didn't want to risk the pod's short-range transmitter not being up for the task I didn't think it would matter when I did Since the star I picked for the job Kalo 43 It was well inside controlled space and wouldn't affect my timeline Oh good thing I thought ahead I guess Yes. As soon as I executed the course correction, I was immediately locked out of the navigational system.

At the same time, there was a rupture at the Pod Bay compartment. Damage control showed a localized hole breach, limited to the rescue pod itself. Somehow the Pod's internal power cells have gone into overload. And that can't happen unless the cooling system is disabled. But the pod is gone. my control of the ship is gone most of my captain authority is gone in terms of access

I am locked out of anything important yes it turns out there was another order in play after I cried my eyes out over the loss of the pod I went back through the status logs going back to when this whole horror show started two months ago hoping to find out why this had happened I found out what I was looking for One day before the comm array got eaten, Achilles 4 received a communication from Jericho,

systemise only, meaning that no crew member on board had access to it. The message wasn't in the log, but thanks to my deep hack, I could get the computer to cough it up. And I am not ashamed to say that I cried my eyes out again after reading it. The ship computer had transmitted the biohazard warning, and what preliminary data it had on the expansion to Jericho headquarters. which is standard procedure in situations like these. What isn't standard is that the ship received a corporate order to maintain a course for Alpha Centauri Station.

The ship could alter the course as long as it arrived at station within three months. External communications could only go through corporate channels. Any attempt to destroy the ship by the captain, like I had just done, would result in command lockout. At the same time the ship computer would ensure the crew didn't attempt to flee the ship, so all shuttles and pods would have mysterious problems arise if we tried to use them, such as cooling systems abruptly breaking. Wouldn't want us warning the authorities, right?

Jericho knows what they have aboard this ship, and they want to bring it home. The cargo comes first, the crew comes last. I have no more words for you. my corporate overlords. Words no longer do justice to what you've done. I can't even bother to.

I can't even... Log 11, October 24th, 2074. Well, it's taken me a few days to get my shit together. I can't say that my shit is, in fact, together. I think I'm way past pulling myself into a state resembling any

actual human being. But I got something. I got me a plan. It's a bad plan, it's a fatal plan. That's the only kind of plans I have left to you. I am dead. I already feel dead. Like I'm a ghost wandering an empty ship.

My corpse decomposing somewhere out of sight, or just floating in space, or just another part of that creeping mass consuming the ship. There's two days left in my trip, but there's no salvation at my destination. Jericho is waiting for this ship to dock No doubt itching to study To test and dissect the expansion

They can still probably save me But they won't I'm much too much of a liability now I have all the incriminating evidence needed to bring them up on criminal charges They'll either let the expansion finish me off Or they might help my demise along by initiating an accident They'll alter or purge some records that will be that.

One more lost crew added to the memorial wall back on Earth. Well, they don't know what they're dealing with. They only have early scanning data. They'll let this thing onto the station, and it will run wild. Alpha Centauri Station has over 10,000 souls aboard, and cargo ships travel from the station to Earth every day. No matter how thoroughly Jericho has screwed me over, I can't let all those people die.

I can't risk letting the expansion get to Earth. So, right, my fatal plan. Well, since I can't deliberately fly this ship into a star, I'll settle for doing it accidentally. I can do a deep hack again, only this time I'll permanently take out the ship computer. That'll cause the engines to shut down as an automatic safety precaution. Now, the trick is when to do the shutdown, but I figured that out as well.

If I time it right, the ship will do a gravity slingshot past Centauri 4, a small gas giant, which will send me right at the star itself. Since I can't use the ship computer to help guide me this time, I have to use my own calculations. Well, this could go very badly. I don't want to sling the ship into a planet if I can help it, or out into deep space where the ship might eventually be recovered. But it's the best option for it.

from my list of fatal plans. If I succeed, then this log dies with me. And Jericho will probably skate by without the authorities ever catching wind of the shit they were pulling. But hey, I'll go out saving lives. Definitely worse fates than that. One way or another, this is my last entry. I won't waste my time thinking of famous last words,

but I will say this. My crew deserved. I deserve better. And Jericho deserves a lot more than what they're going to get. Warning, station's security raised to level Omega. Biohazard safeguards are now in effect. Please stay at your current location. An evacuation team will arrive within two hours.

Remember, your safety and the company's safety are one and the same. Attention. Hidden data newly discovered. newly discovered. Unknown log entry now available. Release of log entry appears to coincide with signal burst originating from Achilles 4. Cause of transmission, unknown. Log 12. Date? Oh no. Hi there, my corporate overlords. If you're reading this entry, a few things will have transpired. For starters, I'm dead. I won't know how it happened, but I'll be dead nonetheless. I hope it was fairly painless. Next, the ship is still in one piece.

You might think that means my plan was a failure and that would be a fair assessment of things considering what data you have available. Except that wasn't my plan, not the real one. I did try to shut down the computer, but only so the system would log my attempt. Ship computers have so many firewalls and redundant hard drive, and it's almost impossible to disable it through hacking. I did it so you wouldn't look too hard at my actual hacking effort. What I did was rig up a new transmitter. The only one I still had available was the one still attached to the wreckage of the rescue pond. I had to use my evak suit to travel through a number of depressurized compartments, and it wasn't much fun.

I kept expecting the expansion to burst out of the walls and absorb me at any time, but that didn't happen. I rigged the pods transmitter to run off the ship's power supply, as well as connected to my personal digital device. That way the ship's computer doesn't even know it exists. I've downloaded the logs into my personal device and I've hidden the device somewhere it won't be found too quickly, but not before I set it to record my bioredings from my implant. I added the condition that if my implant ever goes dark, the device will automatically transmit two signals. One will be to send the logs through the pod's short range array. It'll only work for one good burst, but every communication array within 2,000 miles of the ship will pick up the data burst.

The second signal will be to the Achilles for itself. It will activate the program I put in the life support system, the one that will pressurize every compartment on the ship. I have crunched some numbers and realized that the ship's hull is in a very tenuous state from all the expansions tunneling. Returning the air to most of the ship would be like throwing a lit match into a pool of gasoline. The expansion will surge into all those compartments, causing hull breaches everywhere. It could even rip the ship apart. I admit it's a plan with a number of serious risks.

What if my personal device runs out of power first or get smashed? What if the expansion eats me and duplicates my implant readings? What if the pods transmitter Proofs too damage to do the job? Yes, it's a desperate plan, but I'm a desperate person. I realize that even if I could destroy the ship, it wouldn't stop Jericho.

The company would just send a new ship to R.H. 1129. I have to expose the company and expose the expansion. Nothing gets people's attention like a dying mariner's last log, coupled with the public destruction of a country. cargo vessel in range of every able sensor package. Truth be told, the one thing

I'm really afraid of is that the company's retrieval team will bring the ship directly into one of the station's docking ports. If the ship comes apart inside a docking port, there'll be no way to stop it from infesting the station. But you guys wouldn't be that arrogant, right?

I mean, there are protocols for this kind of thing. I mean, unless you're too busy trying to hide the ship to care about small matters like Bayer containment. I suppose no matter what happens, you corporate guys are going to be real cross with me. No death benefits for my mom, no bonus for my hard work, which I think is a really crappy thing to do to a loyal employee like me.

After all, I followed the corporate mantra. I delivered to you what you wanted. In the end, the cargo came first. So once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast from,

please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye. Thank you.