Aboard the Eliza

  For a brief moment, a star bleeds into being. The glass of the observation atomizes where the ion bolt passes; along the edges, the glass first melts and then shatters as it's torn into the vacuum of space. Domitia skids in, brought into the ship again by velocity and is kept from crashing into the wall by the expulsive decompression. Emergency shutters activate moments later, and the pale starlight is stolen away, the only glow in the room being Dell's headlamp.

  "Dell?" Domitia asks, "You alright?"

  Dell tears himself from Domitia's grip, tail angrily swishing behind him, "Don't fucking do that again, you giant metal bitch!" He jabs his hand at Domitia, index, and pinky fingers pointing at her.

  "Save your life?" Domitia asks dryly.

  Dell's anger can't stand against how comical it all is, "Fuck, fuck we almost bought it."

  "We did."

  Domitia scans her surroundings, finding no sign of thralls. The room is spartan, for the most part, save for the few terminals built into the wall, probably meant to help navigate the ship into port. Given the vessel's purpose, the Eliza would probably never need this room, as it would never return to port. The day it's made redundant is when they would let it fall into the perihelion of a star. Given the circumstances, she's unsure if it will die with its crew or if they will meet some other fate.

  "So what's the plan now?" Dell questions, "Seems like we're not gonna get paid for this rescue mission."

  "We get back to the Providence, alert Blackwatch." Domitia answers plainly, "Simple enough."

  "Would've been if we had an easy way through," Dell remarks.

  "Did you reset the lockdown?" Domitia asks.

  "I did," Dell says and then points to the empty holster on his belt, "Then the handie flew out of my fucking grip. Guess someone's gonna luck into one in a few hundred years." Dell mulls it over, "Fucker opened the damn window, must have full control of the ship after the lockdown was undone."

  "If the doctor can't control the ship now, we're back to an even playing field." Domitia states, "Now we have to find our way back."

  "Yeah, fat chance of that," Dell grumbles, "We got a horde of Ravenous between us and our boat outta here."

  "We have to start somewhere," Domitia says.

  "Yeah," Dell then points a finger down the deck, "Let's start with that."

  It's a small detail, and Domitia is now kicking herself for not seeing it. While most doors of the Eliza had been blasted through or simply off their hinges, the few that remained closed had their panels off or blinking red, signaling that the door had been locked or was powered down. At the end of the observation deck, on the left side, a door panel blinks green.

  Wordlessly, the bounty hunters press off the deck and float to it, careful not to make noise along the way. Domitia catches herself on the corner, gently slowing down as she readies to enter the door. Dell stops himself with his tail, putting himself right next to the panel. With a nod from Domitia, Dell opens the door.

  "Wait! Don't shoot!"

  Inside, an oversized light blue void suit scrambles upright, one arm having been cut off and sealed, the right leg being a cheap but sturdy aug leg. The one good hand raises over the helmet the best it can. The face behind the glass visor is sullen and pale, with dark hair peppered with grey covering brown eyes.

  "Is... is he infected?" Dell asks, peering around the corner.

  "Unless he's good at faking it, no." Domitia looks over the man, seeing the tag on his suit, 'Life Suit, Dr. Mark Haussen.'

  "I'm not! I'm not! I... I..." Haussen points to his arm, "Lost that due to the initial boarding. I'm not bit."

  The bounty hunters share a glance; the story seems to check out, but Domitia has questions. She knows that her presents can be unsettling, so she lets Dell take the lead, giving him a nod to signal this.

  "Alright," Dell looks the man over, "Let's start simple, Dr. Haussen. Is that your name?"

  "Yes. Yes, it is." He steadies himself, "I'm Dr. Mark Haussen. I have--" He catches himself, "--You're not here for a lecture, so I'll save it. I was a part of the team as a senior lab manager." He looks over the two of them, "And who are you supposed to be?"

  "Domitia," The Bellator answers plainly.

  "I'm Dell," He points between the two of them, "Bounty hunters."

  "I see... I suppose you have questions." Haussen states.

  "Mhm," Dell mulls over the statement, "Let's start with the big question, how'd you live?"

  "In the initial assault, I got winged and carried to one of the panic rooms," He points to the arm, face wincing as he remembers the pain, "Ion bolt atomized much of the arm and melted a good part of the flesh around it. Had to cut it off."

  "Who were they? Pirates?" Dell asks.

  "No. No, not pirates," Haussen recalls, his eyes becoming unfocused, lost in the retelling, "At first, I suspected it. The ship they boarded was posing as a tender vessel. A very pirate tactic, although considering my... Off the clock investigations, I quickly put together it was Management. Here to wipe the slate clean."

  "Whys that?" Dell presses in, "Seems a waste if you ask me."

  "Our boss," Anger bleeds through his words, "Dr. Hyaline, he'd been on the chopping block as of late. The home office had this ship working on a cure for the Ravenous. Something they could hold onto in a 'Just in Case' scenario.

  "The cure would be able to reverse the damage that most stage one victims feel. Muscle Spasms, change in behavior, heightened aggression. It would be able to do so without leaving any nerve damage. Could save billions." His eyes light up as he says, "We were on the cusp of greatness... Even with that old bastard at the helm."

  This tracks to what Domitia knows. Those infected with the early stages can be cured, although it requires removing all infected nerve tissue. This leads to paralysis in the best case scenario, with cybernetic augs needed to fill in the gaps. Most end up going full borg, having their brain stim and a good part of their grey matter replaced. The side effect of this is often a total loss of memory and dulling some emotions. Most who survive a brush with the Ravenous end up as cybernetic husks of their former selves if they can be put on a slab to be worked on within twelve hours. If not, the tumors that the virus uses to control the host body have thoroughly rooted their way through the spinal column and all the way through the brain stem. You're a dead man. Fully aware. Fully in pain. Unable to do anything but watch as your body rots away before you.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Doesn't sound like Hyaline is well-liked." Dell observes, he leans in a bit, "Whys that?"

  Haussen's arms reach upward, his hand clenching into a fist, "He can't, can't stand being snubbed. The entire reason he took this post is he didn't want anyone else taking credit. Even though he steals from his assistants all the time! Fucking bastard. If I could, I'd--"

  "Focus." Domitia steps in at this point, the armored visor pulling back, the void glass one underneath allowing Haussen to see her eyes, "You mentioned an investigation."

  "Yeah... Found a file on the mainframe. Didn't make any sense; it was almost the size of our entire research notes and gene maps times two." Haussen shakes his head, "Then I found his personal line. Didn't know what it was until the hit squad boarded the ship. Fucker was gonna sell his research and then leave."

  "Ah," Dell chuckles, "Guess the bosses found out, explains why the crew got whacked."

  "Why did the lockdown go into effect?" Domitia asks, "How did the outbreak start?"

  "I don't know, to be honest," Haussen sighs, "If I had to guess, fighting in R&D got nasty. There was a contingency Sul had installed. Hyaline lost his mind when he found out about it. Explosives. Small detonations meant to destroy the terminals and burn the paperwork. Guess they weren't so small since it let the Prime out."

  "The what?" Dell asks.

  Domitia nearly snaps, "You had a prime? On this ship?!"

  Primes were the second step of the Ravenous Life Cycle. After an infection had gone on long enough, useless biomatter would be collected and used to form massive flesh pits. The beings that would be born from there are Primes, the directors of a Ravenous Hive. One Prime is enough to warrant the deployment of a mournival, four Bellators. The fact that they had one on board and thought it'd be fine seems madness.

  Haussen backs up into a corner, "I didn't know we had it! Had I'd known I'd fucking leave!"

  "How the hell did they even get it here?" Domitia asks through gritted teeth.

  "I couldn't tell you; that was only known to Hyaline. He held the keys to Ravenous DNA. I just figured we got samples from Void Watch!" Haussen sighs, "So foolish to believe that."

  "Join the club; we were stupid enough to believe your boss." Dell chimes in.

  "Hyaline's alive?" Haussen's shock is audible, "How?!"

  "Don't know, he's been all over your short and long waves." Dell says, "Tried to get us to turn on the Array. When we tried to alert Blackwatch, the fucker sent us into space."

  "Always the backstabber." Haussen looks up at the ceiling, "Was wondering why the emergency power flipped back on."

  "It's off again, for now," Dell says, "We tripped the lockdown again; all we have to do is make it through the horde and to our boat."

  "Not so simple," Haussen says, "If the lockdown is back on, no ship can leave. Airlocks won't disengage; it's what happened to the hitmen."

  "Explains why it's still there," Domitia observes.

  "And the hull damage," Dell adds; he sighs as he realizes what's next, "Now we'll have to fight our way through security."

  "Not exactly," Haussen interrupts, "We can reset the ship through a generator restart. If we do that, the systems will reset to default."

  "Hordes down that way," Domitia points to the aft, "Engineering is below us?"

  "Correct. It's a simple matter, really." Haussen states, "But if the good doctor is still kicking... We will have to fix that."

  "Oh, way ahead of ya," Dell says, reloading his SMG, "That fucker shot me into the void. Ain't no way we're leaving him alive."

  "Any idea where he'd lay low?" Domitia asks.

  "He wasn't one for subtly, hence why even I figured out his game," Haussen says, "If I had to guess where he was, it'd be in his quarters."

  ---

  The way down from the observation deck is a spiral staircase segmented by bulkheads. Fortunately, Haussen had stolen a key breaker from engineering. It's a bulky rectangle containing within it a number of cables and a power pack. Slotting the right wire into the right slot allows the door to be activated and then opened. It takes some time, but Haussen had to shut and lock every door he went through to ensure no one could follow his trail. It had been the protocol of all the survivors aboard the Eliza.

  "There were a dozen or so of us," Haussen says, "But they were so active and so invasive that we could barely do anything but cower in the safe rooms, which were compromised quickly.

  "Soon enough, we were whittled down, one by one. I, being the dead weight, hid myself up here, hoping to at least deprive the Ravenous biomass..." His regret could be felt in his words, "I figured once the food ran out and the water dried up, I'd open an airlock and just float into the void."

  "Yeah, well, we all have bad days," Dell sardonically remarks, "Maybe wait on making that whole suicide trip once we get the engines running?"

  Haussen chuckles, "Maybe."

  The last door at the base of the tower opens; Domitia pushes back Dell and Haussen, taking point. The base of the tower opens into what could charitably be called a garden. This has to be mostly due to the flowers and plants that line the beds of rocks are all fake. Even the rocks remain solid where they are due to being glued in place. The beds are crisscrossed by a walking path painted to look like dirt, the canopy above being fake branches of paper leaves. In between the branches, painted in glow-in-the-dark paint, stars shine down on the makeshift garden.

  Haussen leads the way, leaving the garden through a fake wooden archway and into carpeted halls. Fake street lamps hang in the corners; most are dim or float on the wire that had previously given them power. Others still live, lighting the way for the trio.

  The fighting here had been as intense as anywhere on the ship. Every hall had a barricade that had been breached by ion fire and grenades. The floating remnants of Webster Drones showed a trail of destruction through the faux neighborhood. Some of the entrances into the cabins had gates and plastic front gardens. It is all a ploy to give the passengers nostalgic memories of home, although Domitia can only think of how fake it all is and how the real thing would be so much better.

  "It's up ahead," Haussen points out.

  The cabin door had a street lamp above it; the amber light above it glows weakly in the dark halls of the Eliza. They approach the door with care. Domitia positions herself in front of the door as Haussen slots the key in. The door opens smoothly, and Domitia rushes in. She checks her corners, finding a hall closet, shoes and jackets held in place with hangers and slots to keep them from floating away. She presses in; bottles from a wet bar float in the air, but no signs of Hyaline. In fact, the whole cabin is dead quiet and still dark. Dell and Haussen hurry in, the latter closing the door behind him.

  Domitia presses deeper to finding a figure frozen to an office chair. She scans the body, finding it's ice cold, a revolver still locked in his hands. She approaches the corpse and activates her headlamp to get a better look. His skin is pale and wrinkled, his head bald and devoid of hair. His face has something akin to a beard, but it's far too thin to be anything noteworthy. The gunshot wound is clearly self-inflicted; the man's clothes reflect one with an understanding of style but no taste of his own.

  "I suppose I should not be surprised you found me."

  Domitia's aim falls upon the sound of Hyaline's voice. It doesn't come from the body; rather, it comes from the terminal in front of the corpse. It takes Domitia a moment to realize what's going on.

  "Yes. I'm here." The terminal speaks again, "Right here. This whole time."

  Dell and Haussen flood into the room, Dell slipping a few bottles of liquor into his tool belt as he rounds the corner. He sees the body first and whistles.

  "Damn, that dead man can talk?"

  "It's not the body." Haussen looks at the terminal, "Of course. I should've known that's why it's so big."

  "Ah, Dr. Haussen," Hyaline greets his former colleague, "You've lost weight."

  "Same goes to you," Haussen nods over to the body, "Looks like you lost about seventy kilos right there."

  "Hilarious." Hyaline dryly replies, "So, come to kill me now. No better than the barbarians that burnt down the great libraries of yore."

  "Cry me a river," Dell barks, "Shot my ass into the void, I don't wanna hear shit from you! Besides, not much of you left. I'm stealing your liquor, by the way, you bastard."

  "Go ahead! Loot my belongings; none of that matters; nothing matters now!" Hyaline screams as much as a terminal will let him, "You all deserve the deepest pits of hell, as far as I'm concerned! All I needed was for this engram to be sent out. That was it! My life's work, my legacy is on that transmission!"

  "Your life's work?!" Haussen floats to the terminal, looking at the lightless screen, "Our work, Hyaline! You and your team worked on it!"

  "Team?! You were a collection of fuck ups! That's why they gave you to me! They wanted to hinder my research at every turn! It's why when I got the offer to do real work and have my name really recognized, I took it!" Hyaline states firmly.

  "So you killed the entire crew for that?" Haussen asks, "They were people, Hyaline, or did you forget that?"

  "Those people we lured to be test subjects were people too, Haussen." Hyaline snarkily retorts, "Suddenly, you care about 'people?'"

  "You know damn well I opposed that!"

  "I've heard enough," Domitia grunts, "Dell, unplug him."

  "Say no more." Dell reaches down to the terminal.

  "Of course, you'd say that!" Hyaline curses, "Bellators, all the same, jailers of the galaxy! I want to cure the galaxy! You just want to keep it under your heel--"

  The voice ceases as Dell emerges back from under the desk, dusting his hands off, "Easiest hit I've ever done. Hope he enjoys his big sleep."

  Haussen looks over the terminal, deep in thought. He then reaches over to it, finding the detachable hard drive, unhooking it, and slipping it onto his belt.

  "Figured if we make it off here, I'd like the research to go somewhere useful."

  "Yeah, here's hoping we make it off this rust bucket," Dell adds.