Space Fairing Pokemon

The sound of metal kissing metal filled the area as he walked down the length of the cool hallway. It was a familiar sound, a familiar echoing rhythm, as the noisy ambience was a commonality within the workout center; however, he wasn’t interested in the subtle echo right now but instead in one person in particular who he knew would be here.

Continuing down the length of the hallway, weathered brown eyes watched in empty amusement as various men of varying statures and builds passed by his view. Most of the men were, much the same as himself, men who needed time alone to exercise their frustrations, as the lives in which they lived were fraught with the complicated nature of their existence. Ironically enough, this did not mean that most of those here were what could be considered friends or companions; far from it, every man here was one who would easily put a gun to the back of his head if the need arose to do so, a truth that made him less wary than some might have thought that he should have been. Honestly, knowing that you were surrounded by those who could be considered your potential enemies, should a mission require such a change of perspective, was easy to accept, as it meant that you knew never to trust those present, their intentions being obvious enough that he couldn’t help but see them as threats for which he should always be on edge around.

It was a good feeling, especially in his line of work.

And yet, the fact that the person that he was seeking out was here with these men was nerve-wracking all the same, because the individual who he was searching for was the one exception out of the bunch, which was a truth that he hated above all else.

Keeping perspective was simple when it could be logically analyzed and then mentally cataloged as either a dangerous warning or cautionary challenge, but this was not the case when it came to his current objective.

Rounding a corner brought his search to an end, as there, within the center of the room, was his target.

The sight of a tan-skinned form sweating within the cool beige room was not unsurprising, given that the blood of the person in question often ran hot, even while suffering through the coolest of temperatures. That said skin was barely clothed didn’t help the matter at all, as beads of clear perspiration ran down the length of a body that had been honed with a mixture of military-grade chemical stimulants and years of physical conditioning. It was truly amazing to contemplate what such dedication could do both to and for someone who was initiated into military service, especially at the age for which the other had enlisted, given that there was a certain kind of...intriguing aestheticism that came with honing a body into deadly edge that could easily put a lesser individual into the ground.

Arms thick as tree branches pushing against a silver metal bar highlighted this fact well enough, as the straining muscles bulged with veins that spidered out along the length of the flesh, challenging anyone that dared to test the validity of the strength for which their owner was possessed.

The chest that the twin ligaments were connected to was the highlight of said strength, as the deep lines that cut into the musculature showcased a dangerous edge that was both alluring and threatening. Those small impressions could be seen within the tanned flesh only accentuated this lethal visage, as the stories behind each indent, each blemish, were ones that proved the worth of the form, which was currently straining under the weight of an iron cylinder that could easily crush the body attempting to control it through continuous exertion.

Dark brown eyes narrowed at the memories that rose to the forefront of their owner’s mind as they recalled each injury in bloody detail within the darkness of a mind that was normally filled with many more horrific recollections.

The roar of the engines drowned out the screaming of the young man in the cockpit. His hand reached for the fire control trigger, squeezing it like his life depended on it. It did. The missiles shot out of their respective slots, heading toward the ship coming down in front of him. His flight path was interdicted, and the only way to save himself was to either pull up and expose his tail or shoot through the oncoming ship. He pulled the trigger again. Explosions bloomed in the black, and through them he flew, the debris of the enemy ship smashing into the hull of his own.

“Hit! We got a hit!” his wingman said over the radio.

The pilot was too busy trying to breathe to respond. The ship rumbled and shook, but the shunts seemed to be holding. He felt his body slam back into the acceleration couch as the ship began to right itself and his body’s momentum caught up with it.

“Christ, kid! That was close! You’re bleeding, you know?” his wingman said again, his voice calm.

The kid, barely twenty-one years old, reached up and felt the stickiness on his forehead. He realized his nose was bleeding. The pressure change from the maneuver had ruptured something in his sinuses.

He’d have to get that checked out by the doc when they got back to the ship. If he got back. There was still fighting going on all around him.

Their owner shook them away, as that time had long since passed, and because of that, the threat of what had been was no longer an objectionable concern to the current moment that was now.

Once such pointless recollections were put aside, those dark brown eyes continued their surveying of the form that was presented for inspection.

The curve of the central body dipped down into the pelvis area, which was thankfully wrapped within synthetic material that had been provided for all members of the military, at least within their particular unit. More often than not, the man in question liked to go without, saying that he didn’t see the point of keeping himself modest when there was no one around who could hold interest in that which was packaged beneath the undergarments.

Which, while true, dismissed the understanding that protocol and respectability were meant to be the standards for men such as them, even if they were not within the public’s view.

Like a gun being placed within its holster, the idea of covering oneself was necessary in order to show discipline, something that the other man constantly seemed to willfully disregard, as was the case whenever they were alone together within their shared room. That brown eyes often followed every move made by the male genitalia, which presented itself to the enclosed metallic space that was their living quarters, was not something that needed to be said, as such actions were nothing if not utterly mundane in their execution, given that their analysis was based solely on physical inspection for means of health and well-being. This is why said eyes quickly shifted their gaze away from the throbbing groin and the dark spot that was rising within the synthetic undergarments, which were filling the air with a heady scent of musk that was stifling to breathe in.

The thighs and calves connected to the upper body were, as expected, heavy with the weight of flesh, bone, and blood needed to keep the masculine form straining against the iron above. Despite this, there was a flexibility to these limbs that could easily outpace most unaugmented individuals. The proof of this had come in seeing the surprising level of dexterity that was put on display both on and off a mission, as their owner was able to bend and contort himself in such a manner that was...distracting if nothing else. Quite so, whenever he decided to wake before their respective alarms rang out to pull and stretch himself in various geometrical shapes while the doors to their rooms were locked. Thankfully, his routine exercise regimen didn’t last long enough to be a bother, and the relative silence of his movements meant that the brown eyes that watched him in their shared bedroom didn’t find fault enough to make their owner comment on the actions in question.

With the feet at the end pressed against the cold tile floor, naked as the upper part of the flexing form, completing what should logically have been the last set of repetitions for the day, dark brown eyes lifted up to look at the face of the soldier that he was there to retrieve.

Dark brown eyes watched with restrained annoyance as a handsome male face smirked back at him upon their gazes meeting, jet-black orbs seemed to almost twinkle as their owner stared at him with an excited enthusiasm. Or at least, they tried to be as such, but as it stood, it was quite a trial to feel such a dour emotion when looking at one that was much more...youthful than what his age and specialty

would suggest. Men like them aged quickly, both physically and mentally, despite the enhancements that they had been given via the medical injections; their time serving as a specialized unit of grunts for the military often drove their bodies to the point of withering as they brushed against the jaws of death time and again. And yet, that wasn’t the case for the tan-skinned man sitting on the weight bench; he seemed almost impervious to being able to age, as though he possessed a rare strain of genetics that halted the effort of time and the stress of danger from debilitating him.

Odd, seeing as such an abnormality would have been flagged by the scientist and doctors that examined them, but no matter.

Opening his mouth to speak, the brown-skinned man quickly closed his lips when a familiar smirk was presented to him.

A pang within his chest made him flinch for a moment, the strange palpitation never failing to overtake him when seeing such a gesture after time apart with his fellow soldier.

Why that was, he couldn’t say, as it was a strange thing to feel, well, anything, given the mental training that he had been put through in order to get to where he was in life dulled most, if not all, emotional responses that he could have, and yet there was no denying the fact of the matter that he always had this response to the other man. The deep sense of curiosity and intrigue that burned throughout the center of his being as to why this was proved to be nothing short of baffling, as it should not have been possible for such a happening to continue as it did.

“Oh, hey there, Luc.” The sound of the other man’s voice broke him out of his musing, as it always did, making the dark-skinned military grunt blink before shaking his head.

“How many times have I asked you to not call me that, Rufus?” Dark brown eyes narrowed in a warning that would never bear a consequence.

The smile that was shown to ‘Luc’ instantly melted the scowl that was attempting to write itself across his freshly shaven face. “At least three hundred and sixty-four times, given how many days we’ve known one another.”

A terrestrial year.

Not as much time as one might think if they were living an ordinary existence down on the blue planet below the space station, but it was more time that was allotted for those like them, as the high-octane lives that were their norm normally often saw more than a few bodies being zipped into bags. If there was enough of someone to bring back to put into one, sometimes the only thing that remained was their ID tag, and those were the luckier ones.

Luc shook his head at the thought, not approving of where such a notion would take him should he continue on said path.

“And yet you continue to do as such.” The accusation was clear within his tone, and yet the response that was received in turn was not one of accepted submission but instead amused impishness.

“Because I like to see that nerve on your forehead dance whenever I do so.” The snickering that came following the metal bar within the other’s hand being lowered back into place covered the sound of the soft growl coming from the pit of the dark-skinned man’s throat. It was a familiar rumble, one whose warning often failed to correct the other’s actions. “Also, I think it’s cute, Lucious.”

That palpitation hit once again, this time hitting hard enough that the dark-skinned man found himself freezing in place as his entire body sparked with a sensation akin to being stabbed with an electrified baton.

Unpleasant for sure, but one that Lucious was unable to defend himself against all the same, and so he simply allowed himself to endure the sensation until it abated. Thankfully, the moment did not take too long to parse through him, as there was a reason that he was there at the moment, an important one at that.

“Cuteness aside, we have been called down for a mission.” Those words made Rufus freeze all thought and motion.

“Mission? We’re supposed to be on mandatory rest and recuperation after our last venture out in space.” The statement was said with a valid mixture of curiosity and concern, as it wasn’t normal for a soldier to go out again before their allotted time to destress there within the space station, as so mandated by higher-ups.

“There’s been a crisis at a research station, one that demands our attention.” Seeing Rufus nod, Lucious felt his lips pulling upwards into a proud smile; he quickly schooled his features, as it was a useless effort to express acceptance over his fellow soldier committing himself to the duty that they had enlisted themselves into.

“Then I guess we should hurry and get to where we need to be debriefed on the situation?” Lucious nodded before stepping back to allow the slightly larger man to rise up to his full height.

At only three inches taller than him, Rufus was a powerful unit of a man, one that often put every inch of his physique to good use when needed while under enemy assault. Sadly though, he was also someone who couldn’t help but to spread himself out whenever he could in situations that had nothing to do with combat, such as when sleeping at night within their shared room. The times in which Lucious had woken up to find that their bed was being overtaken by the other were too numerous to count, despite the length of the twin-sized mattresses. The fact that their beds were even put together in the first place was due to the night terrors, which would often overtake the dark-skinned man whenever he ran low on his benzodiazepine medication. Apparently his body and mind recognized Rufus well enough to settle down to sleep, despite the thrashing and howling that would overtake his body when caught within the throes of an endless remembrance of his worst missions.

He is taking cover behind a lab table. Another soldier, a woman named Lieutenant Kira, is fighting with him. Lucious activates his shoulder mounted rocket launcher, and he fires a rocket into a group of aliens that has just entered the room. Kira then activates a new prototype device, a magnetic wave generator. She aims it at the ceiling. The magnetic wave causes the ceiling to collapse, which crushes the surviving aliens.

“Lucious, you still with me?” Kira’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Still here,” Lucious grunted, adjusting his grip on the laser rifle. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of ozone. Another explosion shook the station, sending a fresh rain of dust and debris from the ceiling. They were pinned down behind a reinforced lab table, its surface scarred by plasma fire.

The research station on Xylos was supposed to be a secure outpost, a place for studying the planet’s unique crystalline flora. That was before the Silith, a chitinous, insectoid species, decided they wanted it for themselves. The alarms had been blaring for over an hour, a constant, screaming counterpoint to the screeches of the invading aliens and the staccato roar of gunfire.

A trio of Silith warriors scuttled into the lab, their multi-faceted eyes gleaming with predatory intent. They moved with terrifying speed, their carapaces deflecting most of the standard-issue laser fire.

Lucious felt a searing heat as a plasma bolt sizzled past his shoulder, melting a chunk of the wall behind him.

“Kira, flank left! I’ve got the front!” he yelled, his voice raw.

He didn’t wait for a reply. He leaned out from behind the table, his rifle spitting bolts of coherent light. He caught one of the aliens in the thorax, the shot punching through a weaker joint in its armor. It let out a piercing shriek and collapsed, its legs twitching. But the other two were already returning fire, forcing him back into cover.

“Lucious, incoming! More of them!” Kira shouted, her own rifle firing in short, controlled bursts from the other side of the table.

He risked a glance. A whole squad was pouring through the breached doorway. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and running out of time. The station’s automated defenses had been the first thing to go, and their squad was scattered. It was just the two of them now, a last stand in a room full of broken glass and expensive, shattered equipment.

“Quite so.” Lucious didn’t move from where he stood as he watched Rufus stretch his arms to the ceiling, popping his neck and shoulders as he did so. The other man had a specific set of actions that he took when it came to ‘finishing’ his workout routine, and for soldiers like them, such a ritual was necessary in order to maintain order and discipline within their minds.

Fortunately for their time, it didn’t take long for the other to finish stretching, grab his towel, and wipe himself down before nodding at Lucious.

Turning, the dark-skinned man walked out of the workout room, fully aware of the figure that would shadow him, as he always did.

“Rufus. Lucious.” The commander over their respective division nodded as he watched both men step into the sterile gray office dressed as they were within the silver jumpsuits that were common to all soldiers aboard the spacestation.

“Sir.” Both men said together before clasping their legs in time with one another and then saluting, their faces empty of all thoughts.

“At ease.” Seeing the pair relax, the elder man of eighty years, who looked as though he were still in his fifties, nodded towards the two steel chairs opposite the other behind the only table within the room. “I apologize for calling you away from your mandated R and R, but we have a situation.” The gray- bearded officer said after both men sat down, he then slid a gray hologram pad towards Lucious.

Without being asked, the dark-skinned man reached out and then took hold of the device. Looking over the information that was highlighted before him, he slid both his head and the handheld machine towards his compatriot. The feeling of Rufus’ warm body so close to his own as he looked over the information caused Lucious to shiver slightly before he caught himself.

“And the situation is recon?” Rufus asked without thought as he read over the information twice before blinking in confusion.

“If it were for a standard vessel, I wouldn’t have called you.” The commander replied with a casual air of authority within his voice.

“Yes, sir, we understand that, however, what is not understood is the meaning behind this mission, as there is a lack of data here that is not usual in such situations.” The pointed accusation cut deep into the older man, so much that he couldn’t help but to lower his hazel eyes somewhat, despite Lucious not looking up from the holographic screen.

“Yes, well, this matter is under Level Three Classification.” Both Lucious and Rufus raised their heads at that, their respective eyes wide with concern.

Level Three Classification was only designated for something top secret, usually biological practices that bordered on the illegal. It was a well-known secret that such procedures, when they were being executed by the military or other governing body of the extraterrestrial federation, were happening because whatever was going on was not only dangerous but also lethal in nature. The proof of this being in the chemical compounds that ran through the bodies of the three men within that very room, as the formula had been engineered behind closed doors so that prying eyes wouldn’t have to see the results of the failures that took place when results proved to be less...less than expected. To think that they were being given such a mission was both awe-inspiring and deeply concerning, as there were various barriers and safeguards put into place to keep the worst from possibly happening, and yet, from the looks on the data that had been collected, they had all failed to fulfill their stated objectives.

“What exactly are we supposed to be doing in regards to this situation?” Rufus couldn’t help but to ask, as there was information missing here that was obvious enough for the average person to notice.

“Inspection and collection.” The commander stated while reaching up to shift the hat that he was wearing until its brim pointed at Lucious. “The researchers at the space station that you will be going to

were working on a new form of mental and physical enhancement medication. We think that someone found out about it, space pirates probably, and decided to help themselves to it and the research.” That was such an obvious lie that it almost caused Lucious to raise his head and glare at the commander.

Space pirates, while a nuisance, were not well coordinated enough to make an assault on such an important facility, let alone lucky enough to go ahead and take what they needed, kill who was in their way, and then escape without harm. At best, they generally would fly in and pick off what they could of defender ships in order to capture and then ransom back operatives for just enough in the way of supplies to not warrant an immediate call for a military suppression team. This is why modern-day bounties were put out on such individuals, or groups, as they were more a nuisance than an actual threat.

No.

Whatever was responsible for whatever happened at this place had done so from the inside out, meaning that there was more than likely a contamination breech, one in which overtook the guards and then eliminated the researchers. That was the only way to explain why the research station itself was still a factor in this, as there the information that had been collected spoke of various parts of the facility being destroyed, but only those that were not important to life support systems. Meaning that, whatever had done what they did, did so because they needed the vessel in one piece, which suggested a level of intelligence that could possibly be reasoned with but more than likely would need the same said intelligence to be eliminated, as there was a strategy there that demanded military suppression.

“Would it be advisable for only one of us to go on this mission, commander, given the uncertainty of what we could be dealing with here?” Lucious asked after finally raising his head to look at the older man.

Hazel eyes met with his, something akin to pity, before closing as their owner shook his head. “I’m afraid not, seeing as you were called here because of your effectiveness as an on-site pair. " Lucious felt a familiar growl well up within his throat, but he swallowed it before it could escape.

“Which makes sense, seeing as we can watch one another’s backs while there in this place.” Rufus stated with a level of ignorant pride that was as endearing as it was irritating.

“I understand,” Lucious stated, more to Rufus than to the command, despite never taking his gaze off of the man. “What are our orders should we find anyone still alive within this place, be they hostile or not?”

“If they are someone who registers with the system as being part of the facility’s staff, you are to get them to the escape pods and send them out of the area.” That the man didn’t say for them to be rescued spoke volumes about this matter. “Anyone else, eliminate them with extreme prejudice.”

“Understood, sir.” Rufus chirped up, making Lucious groan underneath his breath. “We’ll be sure not to fail in this endeavor.”

“I know you won’t.”

After a bit more conversation regarding ID codes needed to access various areas of the vessel and some general understanding over the idea behind the experiments that took place, the two military grunts rose up from their seats, saluted, and then left the room after they were dismissed.

Nothing was said by either of them as they walked the hallway back to the elevator, both men lingering within their respective thoughts on what they were about to walk into, with Rufus buzzing with excitement, while Lucious was wrinkling his lips in growing displeasure. The silence between them continued as they made their way down to the common area of the space station and then back to their rooms; the two had been on enough tours out in space to know exactly how to prepare themselves for everything that they were about to deal with.

That they worked in time to both dress down into their tactical jumpsuits while making checks over their respective weapons and equipment did not go unnoticed by Lucious, as he was well aware of every subtle shift and gesture that his compatriot made while getting himself ready for what was to come. The fact that the brown-haired man was completely calm at the moment as he checked over his laser rifle vexed the raven-haired man, as it was obvious what was going to happen on this mission.

Lucious didn’t want to think about it though; the knowledge of what was to come couldn’t be changed, as they had been given official orders, the likes of which would be followed out if they didn’t want to be court-martialed for insubordination. And that would see them put into the R.I.G., a specialized prison for enhanced military units that the federation didn’t want escaping out into the world. Lucious was not a religious person, despite knowing well enough that events and entities that could have been labeled as supernatural did exist within the known universe, but there was no other way to define the

R.I.G. other than to call it hell. The stories of those who were trapped within that floating purgatory, unable to escape or even know relief from the constant torment of what it was said was done to them by those in charge, were the stuff of nightmares, so much so that Lucious would see this mission through without complaint.

He just had to figure out a way to make certain that Rufus survived whatever was going to happen, one way or another once all was said and done, as he would not allow for the other man to suffer for the military’s choice to use them as test cases for whatever was going to happen at this research facility.

How to do that became the focus of the raven-haired man’s thoughts as he and Rufus made their way out of their rooms and then down the elevator towards the space station’s hangar. He didn’t know how it would be possible to prevent his compatriot from enduring the consequences that would follow, but he would do something. Anything. He just needed an opportunity to do as such; thankfully, the flight through space to their destination would give him time to think of something, he reasoned.

“Well, this place is creepy.” Rufus chuckled over the intercom as he guided his starfighter around the ruins of the research station.

Adrift in the cold vacuum of space, the battered scientific research station floated, the once bright and gleaming hull of the station scarred, punctured, and peeled back, showing the damaged superstructure beneath. A ring of debris floated around the station, a halo of destruction. Gases and liquids escaped from countless breaches in the hull and slowly dissipated in the uncaring vacuum of space

There were no lights, no sounds, no signs of life. Only the long, jagged rents in the hull spoke of a story of a brutal attack that had torn through the station’s once inviolable defenses and left it crippled and dying. A scar in the dead space.

Silence reigned as the station drifted, forgotten, through the void.

Lucious said nothing in return as he remained stationary while the other man flew over and then under the wreckage of the unmoving vehicle, his eyes focusing on the scans that came from the survey Rufus was taking.

“Seems like the reports that we got were spot on when it came to detailing the damage that was done, though I’m curious as to why there are no signs of life inside.” He said while spinning his ship around some floating debris that threatened to bounce against the outside of his starfighter.

“It is possible that they were thrown out into place when whatever took place here happened.” An unlikely possibility, seeing as the facility hadn’t moved that far from where it was originally settled near a floating asteroid, which was sitting alone there within this quadrant of the sector. Bodies, much like debris, didn’t tend to go far when there was a center of mass for them to gravitate around, which was one reason why spacestation accidents were often called living graveyards, as the sights of those caught within the frozen arms of space lingered within death’s embrace, untouched by much until something came along to disturb them.

“Aww, and here I was thinking that maybe some pirates were in the area.” The eagerness within Rufus’ voice nearly caused Lucious to roll his dark brown eyes.

“Space pirates are not known to fester over their finds, especially ones such as these, given that the longer they remain, the higher the likelihood that someone, such as military grunts like us, will come along to arrest them.” Though it wasn’t often that such happenings took place, as it was considered ill- advised for their type to be taken in for questioning, given that if they were, they could easily be...persuaded to give up any and all information regarding themselves, their contacts, and anyone else who they might have done business with. A happening that would not endear a space pirate to their fellow ‘co-workers,’ as they would likely be considered a deep liability if they ever got freed.

No.

Space pirates would normally fight or flee if they came across anyone entering into the territory that they were raiding, the desperation to not spend the rest of their lives inside of prison being a key motivator in this decision.

“Right. Which makes me wonder what exactly is going on here.” Rufus mused as he returned his spacefighter next to Lucious’ own motionless vessel.

Something had...removed the bodies in question, to where Lucious had a guess, but he kept such speculation to himself, as he didn’t want to cause panic within his compatriot, especially when there were still so many unknowns as to what was happening here.

“We’ll find out in a moment.” Opening his intercom channel to the research vessel’s frequency, Lucious began speaking. “Attention whosoever may be within this vessel. My name is Lucious, and I am here representing the Galatic Space Federation. This vessel is the property of the federation; as such, I have authorization to board it. If you do not wish for a violent confrontation, then surrender yourself before we board; otherwise, lethal force will be used upon our entering of the facility. Is that understood?”

Silence was the answer to his inquiry, broken only by Rufus coming through on their shared private channel.

“Do you really think that someone is still here?!” It seemed like an impossibility, given the circumstances, but at the same time...

“There is a probability that something is within the interior of this ship; whether or not it is organic in nature does not matter, only its level of sentience.” Because a sentient creature had just been given the opportunity to stand down in the face of what would be a military occupation, in this case, which meant that Lucious would have no qualms about executing whatever he might find within, should he have to charge his laser rifle.

“That makes sense.” Lucious didn’t have to open the video link to know that Rufus was bobbing his head in understanding; the other was just that predictable.

“Just like me going in alone.” The dark-skinned man stated while easing his starfighter forward into the hangar of the research vessel.

“What?!” Rufus all but barked as he followed after the other.

“There is a high likelihood that whatever the staff here were working on was able to take over the ship; if that truly is the case, then there is a more than average probability that whatever they are could affect us, our suits, and our ship, which is why you should remain behind until I give you a signal to come to me.” Even as he said this, Lucious watched as his compatriot did exactly the opposite and masterfully docked his ship right next to his own within the open hull of what had once been a tightly contained space.

“That’s not how partners work, Lucious.” There was frustration, no, anger, within the other man’s voice, an accusation that held a level of resentment that actually caused the brown-skinned man to flinch. “Partners look out for one another, protecting their back at all times.”

That’s what I’m trying to do.

Lucious didn’t speak this thought; his throat was tight with the knowledge that if he did, he would be stating something that would have levels of severity to it, the likes of which someone like him could not possibly rise to meet. Instead, “You are correct, which is why we shall remain together within this place. ” For better or worse, given the consequences in question.

Rufus chuckled through the intercom as he opened the hatch of his vessel while activating his gravity generator. Lucious did just the same, which meant that the vacuum of space did little to them when their bodies magnetically stuck to the side of their spacefighters as they climbed down their sides onto the floor. Securing themselves in place while making sure that their respective oxygen levels were stable, the two military grunts stepped beside one another before heading forward into the depths of the research station.

The research station PKN-6 was a tomb of cold steel and violated geometry. What had once been a gleaming testament to humanity’s reach among the stars was now a mangled carcass, adrift in the silent, black sea of the cosmos. Its interior was no longer a place of function, but a monument to quiet malice, every surface screaming a silent story of its demise.

The primary habitat corridor, a place once designed for the smooth flow of personnel and cargo, was now a choked, jagged canyon of warped metal. The walls, which had once been seamless, brushed silver-gray alloy, were now a chaotic tapestry of ruin. The alloy itself was puckered and warped from intense heat, some areas bubbled like molten wax frozen mid-drip, while others were perforated by countless tiny punctures, the work of high-velocity shrapnel. In places, the metal had been peeled back entirely, curling in on itself like the petals of some grotesque, metallic flower, revealing the dark, empty void beyond the hull.

It was no surprise to either of them that the lights within the dilapidated vessel were flickering, thus creating an eerie scene of suspense. Whatever or whoever had destroyed the place more than likely destroyed as much of the wiring as it could in its desperation to escape this place. That the automatic systems had not kicked into gear afterwards meant that they were either damaged as well or turned off. The latter possibility being the most likely, as whatever had taken place here had to have been an inside job, given the security that would have been in place to protect this facility.

Getting through the hangar to the elevator brought a surprise to both men, not in the form of shambling horror or a floor laden with corpses as the metallic doors hissed open, but instead to the fact that the metal box within was actually in pristine condition when called down by the press of the control panel’s glowing buttons. Turning to look back at the hanger, Lucious now noted that all of the space pods and escape vessels were missing.

“We should let command know that something escaped from here when we are done with our investigation.” Lucious stated on his space suit’s radio after he and Rufus entered into the elevator.

“What?! How do you figure that?!” Rufus barked back.

“There are no other vessels here besides our own, which wouldn’t make sense if nothing had escaped, so as it stands, something must have entered into them and then jettisoned out. Where they could have gone, I have no idea.” He finished, cutting his compatriot off before he could ask the obvious.

“But why didn’t we hear anything about this in the report? I mean, a survivor would have been more informative than any piece of data regarding what happened, especially given who would have been working here.”

Unless they were silenced beforehand.

Lucious suspected that the probability of this was quite high when he and Rufus made their way to the main level of the facility.

The primary corridor, once a grand artery designed for the smooth flow of personnel and cargo, was now a jagged canyon of destruction. The once-pristine, brushed-metal walls are puckered and split, resembling the scarred hide of some immense beast. In places, the hull has been peeled back by unimaginable forces, revealing the station’s skeletal innards: a tangled nest of severed conduits, fractured support beams, and bundles of optical fibers that spill from the wounds like glistening, multi- colored viscera. These fibers, once pulsing with data, now lie dormant, their occasional, random spark casting brief, strobing ghosts of light across the devastation.

The floor was a treacherous landscape of debris. Shards of hull plating, some as large as a man, jut from the ground at jagged angles, their edges still glowing faintly with residual heat.

Stepping out first, a hand on Rufus’ chest to hold him back, Lucious poked his head out from the elevator, twisting his vision left and right as he looked about the surprisingly clean hallway as he did so. Lucious nodded when he failed to see a viable threat before his gaze shifted up. Seeing that there were no lasers pointed in his direction, the dark-skinned man walked out and then waited several seconds for any potential consequence, the hand he had been holding onto Rufus’ chest floating in between the two of them as he refused to allow the other man to get harmed due to his bold action.

When nothing happened after almost a minute, Lucious turned to nod at Rufus, who then stepped out next to him.

The pair said nothing as they made their way down the hallway, their faces neutral behind their respective facemasks as they made their way towards the central area of the station. The idea being that if they could get to the main servers, they could learn everything that they needed to know about what happened here and why it took place and then make a decision as to what to do next.

The movement of one of the cameras within the hallway went unnoticed by both men, as there was barely a sound to be heard from the mechanical device.

Luck was with them as they made their way to their destination, or at least they thought so, as the door to the area beyond only needed a bit of prying to open. That a rush of air came out was shocking to say the least, as their previous locations certainly had none to speak of. Moving within, Rufus pointing his laser rifle this way and that after being startled by the sudden influx of oxygen to unholster it from his back, the two men waited several seconds before moving to the main terminal.

Accessing the researcher station’s system proved easy enough, given that Lucious had memorized the data in question needed to access the files and memory banks. Finding out that most of what they needed to know was corrupted was disheartening, however, as the two men looked through file after file, only to see various corrupted lines of text starring back at them.

The terminal stood silent, a monolith of dark, brushed titanium jutting from a workstation desk of the same sterile metal. It was the sole point of light in a cavernous room, its glow casting long, dancing shadows that skittered across the floor like frightened things. The air hummed with a low, almost subsonic thrum, the sound of dormant servers and a life-support system that was slowly failing. A fine layer of grey dust, the residue of forgotten time, coated every surface except the terminal’s screen, which was alive with a frantic, corrupted cascade of data.

The display was a chaotic waterfall of information. Glitches tore through the text like digital lightning, momentarily resolving into fragmented words and phrases before dissolving back into abstract static. Lines of green-on-black code flickered, stuttered, and bled into one another. A string of binary, 01101001 11100110, would suddenly morph into a garbled string of Cyrillic characters, then collapse into a block of solid white before resetting.

Amidst the digital noise, a pattern began to emerge, a recurring theme in the corruption. A file header, blinking insistently:

PROJECT: CHIMERA_ASCENSION

STATUS: [DATA CORRUPTED]

LOG ENTRY 744.92.OMEGA

The text beneath was a patchwork of the coherent and the nonsensical.

Subject D-09 showing promising cellular elasticity. Telomere regeneration exceeding projections by 34.2%. Observed side effect: dermal layer exhibits bioluminescent properties in low light. Hypothesis: [DATA LOST]...unintended resonance with zero-point field.

The log was abruptly overwritten by a cascade of error messages: > MEMORY_ADDRESS_0x7F8A... STACK_OVERFLOW... > CORE_DUMP_IMMINENT. The screen went black for a fraction of a second, then rebooted to a new, more disturbing entry.

PROTOCOL: ‘GOD_SEED’ INJECTION

Vector: Modified retrovirus (RV-CHIMERA-7)

Target: Hypothalamus, Pineal Gland.

Goal: Unlock dormant [CORRUPTED]...god-gene...sequence.

`> WARNING: Unpredictable psycho-kinetic feedback. Subject D-12 experienced [DATA EXPUNGED]...

“And here I thought it was going to be so easy.” Rufus chuckled through the radio as he shook his head in exasperation.

“Wouldn’t you find it suspicious if it was as such?” Lucious murmured back as he typed various commands into the mainframe in order to try and see if he could clear up the degraded data.

“Not really. After all, if something was going to jump out and get us, it would have done so by now, right?” Logically, no, seeing as they were not deep enough into the heart of this facility.

Instead, a good place for a trap would be...

“One of the research areas.” Lucious grunted as his brown eyes beheld a series of digital documents that recounted the information that had already been given by the commander earlier on, just in much more detail.

“Huh?” Rufus asked in turn.

“It seems that there is a backup black box system carrying information regarding the research here within research area one-three-three.” Lucious said, once again more to himself than his compatriot.

“That’s got to be a trap.” Lucious nodded, his mind happy in the knowledge that his companion, while somewhat foolish in many regards, was smart enough to see the obvious in case.

“Which means that I go alone while you head back to the hanger.” Lucious turned to leave, certain that such a command would not be disregarded.

“Yeah, right. No.” And suddenly he wished that he was more persuasive than he was as he turned to look back at the other man. “I’m not leaving to go off into danger by yourself, especially when we both know that something is wrong over there.”

“But if we both recognize the danger, why should both of us walk directly into it?” Lucious didn’t pray, as he was not a religious man, but at this moment he would do so if it meant that he could get Rufus to see reason.

“Because if push comes to shove, we can work together to survive whatever may happen, but if one of us goes alone, then we have less of a chance to make it through whatever comes next.” Such simple logic, and it crumpled every argument that Lucious might have had, despite his brain racing to find fault within it.

“If this is as I suspect, then neither of us could possibly walk out of here.” The finality within Lucious’s voice was clear as a bell through the radio channel, emphasizing the point that he didn’t want to have to make.

“That’s not a problem for me.” Lucious actually gasped upon hearing this. “There’s a reason that I have stayed your partner all this time, Lucious, and it’s because I’m dedicated to keeping you alive. If I can’t do that, then the least that I can do is be by your side when the worst comes.” That he didn’t state what was said was worst meant that the other man was somewhat fearful of the unspoken consequence, and yet there was no denying the strength within his words.

“That’s illogical,” Lucious murmured in turn.

“Not everything needs to be logical.” The teasing tone was so easy to hear within Rufus’ voice that it made the brown-skinned man growl somewhat.

The chuckle that followed after made Lucious growl grow even louder as rage, born of a protectiveness that he could not understand, urged him to reach out and shake sense into his companion.

He didn’t, however, as he was too well trained for such a happening. Instead, he merely inhaled and then released what air he was holding onto before turning and heading out the way that he came in. Rufus trailing behind him without a second’s pause was a reassuring weight to the feeling of dread that was slowly creeping upon his mind.

The ride down the elevator was as silent as the journey up, the pair saying nothing as they waited for whatever was to come next, which proved to be just as uninteresting as before, as there was nothing and no one around to accost them as they made their way out and then down the hall to their destination. The quiet movements of the watching security cameras were nothing more than a hollow echo of what was to come as they delved through the debris to where they needed to be.

Getting through the research area’s door found them again being blasted with air, though not as harshly, as it turned out that the entire area within this level of the facility was awash in oxygen. Why that was, neither man knew or cared to know, as both were on edge as they stepped into the darkness within.

In a space where time seems to have frozen, a large room stretches out, its high ceiling hidden in shadows. The walls, once pristine white, now bear the faint scars of years of tireless research, a subtle reminder of the countless hours spent within. A myriad of wires snake across the floor, some intertwined like the roots of ancient trees, others running in straight, purposeful lines, connecting the

various machines that hum with a low, almost imperceptible drone. This is the heart of a scientific endeavor that teeters on the precipice of revelation, a place where the fate of humanity could be reshaped.

At the center of the room stands a massive, angular structure, its surface a labyrinth of blinking lights, buttons, and screens displaying incomprehensible streams of data. This is the nexus of the lab’s work, a machine designed to probe the very fabric of existence. It looms like a monolith, its metallic sheen reflecting the dim glow of the LED lights that line the room, casting an ethereal blue hue across the scene. The air is thick with the scent of ozone, a testament to the immense power contained within this device.

Surrounding the central machine are several workstations, each a testament to the dedication of the scientists who once occupied them. Computer monitors, their screens frozen mid-calculation, display complex algorithms and molecular diagrams, their glow illuminating the piles of research notes that clutter the desks. The notes, a chaotic blend of handwritten equations and typed hypotheses, spill over onto the floor, creating a sea of paper that seems to shift and undulate in the low light. Some pages are dog-eared, others stained with coffee rings, each one a fragment of the larger puzzle that the lab seeks to solve.

The silence in the room is not one of peace, but of anticipation. It is a heavy, oppressive stillness that seems to press down on the equipment, as if the very air is holding its breath. The hum of the machines is the only sound, a constant reminder of the energy coursing through the lab, a silent countdown to a moment that has yet to arrive.

It was only after finding the main terminal and then accessing the controls that light and a sense of security filled the room; however, this light didn’t just come from up above but instead from behind them as the trap that they knew they were stumbling into sprang with the full force.