Waking Up Without Her

IX-Overflow

I stood, peering out the front of the ship at our destination. The transport before me was of moderate size, likely able to house a crew of several hundred aboard. Lights were still active on the Nix, and the distress signal was being broadcast in full force, now free of interference due to our current proximity. Of course, externally all seemed well, but the broadcast told us the truth: What may have once been a transport was now little more than a shell, concealing a monster within.

The vessel grew larger with each passing moment. The innocuous ship would not reveal the danger I was staring down. This would certainly be a difficult task to manage. It did not help that my preparation was meager. There was little to do but arm myself for the task ahead. I brought few supplies along, as there was little more than weapons I would need. In a rescue operation involving the Infestation, my charge was either dead or alive, with very little middle-ground between. I steeled myself, knowing full well the very subjects I was supposed to save may need to be put down by my own hand. If there was a cure for the parasitic monstrosity, it was likely in some Orokin noble's storehouse, long since dried to dust.

I removed myself from this line of thinking and turned to face the deployment hatch. Dovas had skillfully overridden docking protocols once we were within range, bringing us into the belly of the beast with a gentle glide. We were met with silence as we floated into the internal hangar of the Nix. There were other ships in the dock, of course. The technology used here was just as archaic as the Solaris constructions. The elaborate Orokin design was long-dead. Practicality and utility were once again viewable in the design of the craft as we swung in to view a nearly untouched collection of the smaller spacecraft. Most were crafted in a mechanical, geometric style, likely produced with machine-made parts; A drab contrast to the sickeningly exquisite craft of the tyrants. The bay was surprisingly full, many of these modern ships silently waiting for evacuees that would never come.

The ship settled with a small bump, and Dovas opened the hatch with a hiss of air. My steps brought me from the Majin and into the great docking bay. There was not a single living thing in sight. Once my steps rapped the metal floor of the offloading station, Dovas wasted no time in pulling the Majin from the Nix. He would be moving the ship to a safe location, far from the outbreak. And, of course, leaving me effectively stranded until he returned.

\\Remember your mission:

Secure any survivors,\\

//Then, scuttle the Nix.\\

//Further notes:

Infested can communicate through collective consciousness.//

\\Engaging the monstrosities will alert the others.

Destroy them quickly or they will summon aid.\\

//And for the love of The Seven: Stay quiet for as long as you can.\\

Dovas was almost pleasing to hear through communications, his obnoxious cadence slightly more bearable when it was not the only thing to focus on. My hands tightened on the flamethrower, knowing it would be a matter of when, not if, I use it. Unfortunately, Dovas had some trouble supplying me with fuel. I had only three large canisters of the propellant, though I wondered how much of the aged fuel was even still combustible. As I clicked down the trigger to let a small torrent of flame loose, I was immediately granted a sense of ease. It would work.

As my focus continued to wander, signs of the infestation were beginning to appear. As I looked round the hangar with a more critical eye I could spot the seeds of unnatural growth already latched on the metal of some walls and floors. Clusters of spores and tendrils of organic life were beginning to form around high-oxygen areas of the ship's vents. The organic pox moved quickly and efficiently across the transport.