Captain Gray, you must listen to me. You must destroy this place. You do not know what waits for you here. You, your crew, and all of humanity are at stake. I held him at bay for as long as I —
-----------------------------
“Hello, Captain.”
A harsh white light speared her vision, sending lances of pain through her skull. She flinched away, raising a trembling hand to shield her face.
“Seems you’ve recovered from the cryotube satisfactorily.”
She waved the light away and hauled herself upright, vertigo swamping her senses. Grasping her head, Addison gritted her teeth as agony pulsed behind her eyes—a relentless drumbeat of torment, as if a horde of venomous Bockturian ants had colonized her cranium and now waged war on her neurons.
“Oh my god,” she muttered.
"Apologies for the discomfort," the doctor said, clicking off the examination light. "Planetside cryosleep tends to leave the body rather worse for wear. Realgrav creates several unique challenges. Give it a few hours and you'll be right as rain."
Each word slammed into Addison's sinuses with the force of a plasma hammer, the pain so intense it blurred her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing shallowly through her nose.
"Please," Addison forced through clenched teeth, her whisper strained. "Stop. Talking."
"Of course, Captain." The speaker retreated, their footsteps echoing in the confined space.
Addison cracked her eyes open, blinking rapidly to clear the stinging tears that had gathered. The room swam into hazy focus—a cramped metal chamber, its curving walls thrumming with the deep pulse of the station's power core. Shadows danced across the riveted panels, cast by the flickering holographic display mounted opposite.
Her head pounded in time with her racing heart, each beat sending a fresh wave of nausea churning through her gut. Addison's tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth, the sour taste of day-old lemons coating her palate.
"Where—" The word caught in her throat, emerging as a strangled croak. She coughed, pain lancing through her chest.
"Here." The figure approached, arm extended. A hydration capsule gleamed in their grasp.
With a mumbled thanks, Addison wrapped her shaking fingers around the capsule. The container's chill surface bit into her skin as she raised it to her lips, the water's blessed coolness soothing her raw throat as she gulped it down. Yet the liquid seemed to evaporate on her tongue, her thirst unquenchable.
The figure stepped back, half-concealed by shadow. "I am Doctor Wren."
Addison narrowed her eyes, studying the doctor through her headache's haze. The name scratched at her memory, tantalizingly familiar. Wren stood rigid in a starched white coat, their plain features half-obscured by a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that reflected the holographic display's lambent glow.
"I know that name," Addison rasped, the words scraping her vocal cords raw.
Doctor Wren's brow furrowed, their mouth compressing into a thin line. "Do you? I would find that exceedingly surprising."
Addison scrutinized the doctor, her temples throbbing as she struggled to comprehend the revelation. "You... died."
Dr. Wren's laughter reverberated through the chamber, a sound devoid of mirth that clawed at the metal bulkheads. "Death evaded me, Captain."
“But you died on Lost Light!” Addison sprang from her bed, the effect of the stasis immediately catching up with her as she swayed. The doctor steadied her with an iron grip.
"I did indeed,” Dr. Wren said, unfazed. “However, you see before you, not the good doctor but merely a copy, at least in a manner of speaking. Lost Light was irradiated, as you well know. However, I was currently in ROV at the time. As one final experiment, I decided to see what would happen if I died while in the harness. This was the result. You could see how that would cause a bit of an uproar. I functionally discovered immortality! Publicly, I was... retired,” she explained airily. “There’s a copy of my mind at a few different stations around the galaxy.”
Addison squinted at the woman’s figure, noting the overly fluid way she moved around the room.
“So, you’re a synth, too.”
“No! Not at all! I’m offended, truly. “I transcend those vacuous, insentient puppets. My humanity endures, where it counts."
“Mortality counts,” Addison breathed.
Wren paused, tapping a finger to her chin. “I suppose. But it’s not the only thing that matters. I am quite different from any synth. I feel, for one. I have emotions. I love, I grieve.”
“Love?” Addison asked, her voice dripping with disbelief. “You abandoned your entire life, everyone you cared about-”
"For this!" Wren thrust her arms out in a grandiose flourish. "Here, unshackled from prying eyes and edicts, I've wrought miracles. Groundbreaking strides, Addie."
Addison's lip curled. "And the price?"
"Progress demands sacrifice," Wren declared, her timbre unyielding.
Addison shook her head. “Madmen and criminals have repeated those words throughout all of recorded history. Put me back to sleep; I want nothing to do with whatever you’re doing here.”
“Oh, my dear, you act as though you’re our prisoner or we’re going to do something terrible to you here. On the contrary, Weyland Yutani understands your position. You ended up here through no fault of your own. We’ve had plenty of time in the last few months to sift through your minds, and we know you had no ill intent arriving here at Tartarus Deep.”
Months. The word echoed in Addison's mind, her heart galloping in her chest. Her wife, her daughter - how long had she been gone from their lives? The room spun around her, Dr. Wren's figure blurring through a sheen of panicked tears.
The doctor's laughter cut through the haze, grating against Addison's ears. "Do not worry, Addison! We have been in contact with your family, and as far as they know, you are on the most lucrative mission of your life. Which, if you behave correctly, will end up being true."
Addison's fingers clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms. "What do you mean, sifting through our memories?"
Wren's eyes glinted behind her glasses, a predatory gleam. "I mean that what you can do with a human mind when you reduce it to data is pretty intriguing. ROV tech, as most people know, allows a human being to control a synth neurologically. On the surface, that alone is incredible. But it also means that during the transfer, you can capture impressions. Thoughts, memories, intentions."
She shook her head, the fluorescent light glancing off her glasses as she stepped towards a console bristling with holographic screens. “Perhaps it would just be easier to show you.” Addison watched, transfixed in horror, as Wren's fingers flitted across the touch-sensitive screen. A three-dimensional model of a brain materialized, neural pathways pulsing in lurid shades of blue and green.
"This is your friend here, Mr. Jacques." Wren tapped a section, and a ghostly image shimmered into existence, hovering in the air. A man, throwing a ball towards the camera. A glove snatching it from the air, then hurling it back. "Go long, Dad!" Swain's boyish voice, brimming with carefree joy.
Bile scorched the back of Addison's throat. "You're sick," she spat, the words acid on her tongue. "Violates every single known human right; you have no -"
Wren silenced her with an airy wave, as if batting aside a gnat. "You'll get used to it." The utter absence of feeling in her voice, the callous dismissal, ignited a fury in Addison's blood.
Before conscious thought could intervene, her arm was moving, hurling the water bottle at Wren's head with every ounce of strength she could summon. The doctor ducked, the projectile clattering noisily against the bulkhead behind her.
Wren righted herself, her gaze locking with Addison's, expression settled into a mask of cold amusement as she stared Addison down, her finger hovering over the console button. Without breaking eye contact, she depressed it. The metallic hiss of the door behind Addison made her blood run cold.
Two synths glided into the room, their movements precise and calculated. Addison's heart hammered in her chest as they advanced, the fluorescent light glinting off their polished chassis. She snatched a nearby chair, muscles coiling, and swung it with a grunt of exertion. The impact reverberated through her arms as it connected with the first synth, sending it crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The second synth lunged, but Addison twisted away, using the momentum to swing the chair again. It caught the synth's shoulder with a satisfying crunch, knocking it off balance. She whirled to face Wren, fingers tightening on the chair's steel frame until her knuckles whitened.
"I'm going to leave this place," Addison ground out through clenched teeth, "with or without your permission."
A humorless smile curved Wren's lips. "You're welcome to try."
Addison whirled and hurled the chair at the holographic screen. It struck with an earsplitting crash, the display detonating in a spray of glass shards and sparks. Gloom swallowed the room, broken only by the occasional pop and fizzle from the ruined console.
Shadows shifted in the murk. Robbed of sight, Addison could only guess at their source. Light glinted off metal, and then-- "No!" The word tore from Addison's throat as the synths captured her arms in grips of iron. She thrashed against them, but to no avail.
"The pod awaits, Addison," Wren's voice drifted from the darkness, echoing in the cavernous space. "Hate to put you in timeout, but..."
She thrashed against the Joes, muscles straining, but the machines dragged her forward with implacable strength towards the waiting stasis chamber.
One of the synths reached out with its free hand and tapped a button on the pod's control panel. The chamber's lid yawned open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing the padded interior that promised to cradle Addison in dreamless slumber. A blinding light flared from inside the pod, searing Addison's retinas and forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut against the glare.
The machines shoved Addison into the pod's embrace. She collapsed onto the gel-cushioned surface, the breath rushing from her lungs at the impact. Her heart galloped in her chest, its rhythm almost painful against her ribs. In the instant before the lid sealed her in suffocating darkness, images of her loved ones flashed across her mind's eye - the faces of her family, her crewmates, all those she held dear.
Then the pod door swung down and locked into place with a resounding clang, plunging Addison into stifling, absolute blackness. Panic rising in her throat, she hammered her fists against the metal, fingernails scrabbling at the unyielding surface until they cracked and bled, but the chamber held fast.
"Commencing neural mapping," Wren's dispassionate voice crackled over a hidden speaker, each syllable dripping with clinical detachment.
A bone-deep coldness seeped through Addison's body, radiating from the base of her skull and spreading outward until even her extremities felt leaden and numb. As the paralytic effect of the stasis field took hold, immobilizing her in its pitiless grasp, the final sight Addison glimpsed was Wren's shadowed face peering down at her through the pod's translucent viewing window, the doctor's features rendered alien and unreal by the glow of the console lights.
"Welcome to Tartarus Deep," Wren said, her lips curving into a smile devoid of warmth or sympathy. The words reverberated inside the confines of Addison's mind as the numbing tide of oblivion crashed over her and dragged her down into its fathomless depths.
******
Addison stirred, her eyelids fluttering open to the glare of harsh fluorescent lighting. She squinted against the brightness, her hand rising to shield her face as the world swam into focus. The angular planes of Wren's face hovered above her, the doctor's lips twisted in a patronizing smile.
"Welcome back to the waking world, Captain Gray." Wren's voice slithered into Addison's ears, each syllable dripping with false sincerity.
Addison levered herself into a sitting position, ignoring the dull throb of protest from muscles too long immobilized. She fixed Wren with a glare that could have etched steel, her jaw clenching with barely-suppressed fury. "Cut the crap, Wren. How long was I out this time?"
"You were out for...oh, a day or two. Just long enough for that fiery temper of yours to cool. Promise!"
“Well, I still think what you do here is a massive human rights violation. I’m not sure how putting me to sleep immediately after a revelation and then waking me up a few days later is gonna help me “cool off.” Kinda like it JUST happened for me,” Addison said sarcastically. “Sure you’re still as human as you like to think?”
“I do not think I am human, Captain Gray; I know I am superior to both human and synth.”
"Is that why they put one of your precious synths in charge instead of you?" The barb struck home - Wren flinched as if slapped.
Wren sniffed. “The Corporation knows what they are doing.”
Ha! Addison thought—sore spot.
Addison swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet meeting the chill of tile. Her eyes roved her new surroundings, cataloging every detail of the spartan furnishings and transparent wall that cordoned her off from the rest of the facility. A few holographic displays, a shower, metal toilet, a small fridge, and the cot she was lying on. The cryopod was nowhere to be seen. The trappings might have changed, but the truth of her situation remained inescapable: she was still a prisoner, albeit in a gilded cage.
She turned to confront her captor, lips curling back from her teeth. "So this is what you call 'not a prisoner', Wren? A fucking fishbowl to swim around in at your leisure?"
"Come now, Captain Gray," Wren chided as she sauntered across the cell. "Let's not be dramatic. You'll find the accommodations quite comfortable, I assure you."
She settled herself into the room's single chair, crossing one leg over the other and propping her pointed chin on a fist. Pale eyes, chips of glacial ice, fixed Addison with a look of insincere concern.
"You're hardly a prisoner. You may come and go from this room as you please. And anyone wishing to enter will require a special access code which you yourself will program after today." Wren's lips twitched, a movement almost too swift to catch. "For your...peace of mind."
Addison snorted, the sound harsh in the cell's close confines. She jabbed a finger at the transparent wall, fingernail tapping the unyielding surface.
"Peace of mind?" Her voice dripped venom and sarcasm in equal measure. "When any freak in this place can watch my every move? That's a shit trade, Wren, and you know it."
A sigh escaped Wren's lips as she rose from her seat once more. She strode to the panel beside the door and input a code, the glass transforming into an opaque black veil. "You have the ability to tint the glass if you wish," she said, her words measured as she retreated towards the chair. “You know, it should speak to the fact that you’re not really a prisoner here that I don’t have all this in a prepared speech for you. If this were truly a prison facility, you’d expect me to have all this memorized, rather than getting up and down to show you everything.”
Addison snorted. “That’s piss poor proof.”
"You're not a captive here, Addison." She raised a hand, stemming the tide of Addison's impending objection. "No, you cannot depart from this planet. However, you have the freedom to explore the facility, to witness our work here - within reasonable limits. I hope you'll find a measure of comfort during your stay, as we deliberate on how to proceed with you and your crew’s presence."
Addison rolled her eyes and planted her feet firmly on the floor, bouncing her knees a bit to gauge her strength, and then stood. A wince contorted her features as she stretched. "Is it possible to acquire some clothing that doesn't cling to my body like a second skin?" she asked, her arms folding across her flat chest.
Wren mirrored Addison's action, rising from her seat and vanishing into the adjoining closet. She emerged moments later, a bundle of dark gray fabric clutched in her hands. "This chamber once served as my quarters. We’re about the same size," she said, her tone nonchalant as she tossed the scrubs to Addison. Addison's hands closed around the garments, a grunt escaping her lips as she slid open the door to the en suite bathroom.
“I need to shower,” Addison said, eyeballing Wren. “Were you planning on joining me? You’ve got two choices here, Wren, either fuck me or fuck off.”
“Of course! I’ll um… be outside when you’re done.”
The door sealed with a pneumatic hiss. Addison's eyes flicked upwards. Personal space, she mused. Of all the things you could give a fuck about.
_____________________________________
Scalding jets of water pummeled Addison's flesh. Rivulets cascaded down the curves and planes of her body, sluicing away the grime and perspiration that clung to her like a second skin. Steam billowed, saturating the air and condensing into glistening beads on the metallic surfaces.
Addison stood beneath the showerhead as jets of steaming water pounded against her skin. The water washed over her, sluicing away the grime and sweat clinging to her body. The air was filled with a mist of steam that clung to every surface, condensation beading on the metal walls and appliances.
Each droplet that slid down her body felt like a lifeline. She could almost convince herself she was back at home, in her own bathroom, with her wife waiting for her in their bed. But reality rudely intruded upon her musings.
Hastily, she shut off the shower and dressed herself in Wren's scrubs. The fabric was soft but too loose, making her feel strangely vulnerable. A reminder she wasn't exactly at liberty despite Wren's words.
She stepped out of the bathroom. The room remained unchanged, with Wren nowhere in sight - an unexpected mercy.
Addison tapped the console, transforming the transparent wall into an opaque barrier. The door remained translucent though, teasing the illusion of privacy. Figures, she mused as she lowered herself onto the bed, the mattress creaking beneath her weight.
Settling herself on the bed, Addison pondered her predicament. Wren's disclosure about their mind-mapping techniques had sent a chill down her spine. It was unsettling to know someone had been rifling through your memories, your dreams... your secrets.
She surveyed her surroundings - a room, Wren had called it, not a cell. The distinction rang hollow. Bare walls, austere furnishings, a space designed for utility, not comfort. No obvious means of escape presented itself.
An image flashed in her mind's eye - Wren's fingers dancing across the console, precise, purposeful. A surge of adrenaline flooded Addison's veins as an idea took shape. She recalled the patterns of Wren's movements, the specific sequences. Perhaps she could replicate them, unravel the workings of the console, find a way to call for help.
Addison crossed to the console, blood pounding in her ears, breath catching in her throat. The screen shimmered to life at her approach, symbols and codes cascading in mesmerizing patterns, not unlike the neural scans Wren had shown her. Her hand trembled as she reached out, fingers poised above the keys. Freedom might lie in deciphering this puzzle. She just needed to focus, to think...
The door hissed open, shattering her concentration. Ice crystallized in her gut as she met Dr. Wren's penetrating stare.
"Hope you're not trying to hack the console, Captain." Wren's attempt at levity withered in the charged air between them. Addison held her tongue, fixing Wren with a cold, unflinching gaze.
The joke fell flat, making the room colder somehow. Against the backdrop of such perilous stakes, casual banter tasted sour. Addison said nothing but locked onto Wren's face with a steely expression.
A smirk twisted the doctor's lips, a cruel facsimile of a smile. "Don't worry, I doubt you'd make much headway."
The floor bucked beneath their feet, pitching Addison into the console. Alarms blared, a robotic voice demanding all personnel report to their posts. Naked fear contorted Wren's features, control slipping for the span of a heartbeat. Then she bolted for the door, abandoning Addison without a backward glance.
"But what about me?" Addison's cry rang out in vain as the door sealed itself, locks engaging with a definitive clunk. Tremors still reverberated through the station, aftershocks of whatever calamity had befallen Tartarus Deep.
Staring at the sealed door, Addison was left alone with her thoughts, fears, and the still-glowing console beside her. Her heart raced as she turned back to the cryptic codes and symbols dancing across the screen.
In the tense silence that followed, Addison turned back to the console, still illuminated, still awaiting her command. Wren's hubris, her certainty that Addison posed no threat, kindled a defiant fire in her breast.
Let the doctor underestimate her. She'd clawed her way out of worse corners than this. Surrender had never been an option, and she wouldn't start now. Setting her jaw, spine straight, fingers poised, Addison set about unraveling Tartarus Deep's secrets, one line of code at a time.
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