-Alert-

-An Unknown and Imminent Danger to Captured Asteroid Station Designation Eclipse is Ongoing-

-Begin Emergency Boot-up Functions-

-5-4-3-2-1-

-EDURON Security Droid #22 Online-

SD-22 awoke to a scene of carnage, which according to the sanitation protocols burned into their circuits, was completely unacceptable. The cramped cargo hold was strewn with corpses in various states of dismemberment, haphazardly stacked crates of equipment lining the room dripping with gore as the flickering safety light embedded in the ceiling struggled to stay lit. They counted one survivor among the thirteen bodies littering the cargo bay as the primary sensor package in their chest came online, her unconscious body sprawled in a pool of blood by the alarm switch. The survivor must have activated this unit, SD-22 concluded, the steel-grey cords of synthmuscle wrapping their limbs humming to life as power flooded through their body. They severed the charging cables restraining them to their coffin-like storage box with a hiss of escaping steam and stepped forward to examine the scene. 

Eight of the bodies bore wounds consistent with the records of animal attacks stored in its database, but the station explicitly forbade the crew from bringing pets with them. Perhaps some had been smuggled onboard? SD-22 buried the query deep within its code for later, they had more pressing concerns than enforcing company pet policy. The remaining three showed signs of extreme burns, their flesh fusing with the station’s vinyl floor. Only one cadaver was completely intact, and even then it was impossible to identify anything about the charred corpse. The surviving crew member was a dark haired woman in civilian clothing, approximately twenty to thirty years old. A jagged chunk of her shoulder had been ripped out, and she lay still in a steadily growing pool of blood. SD-22 rushed to her side, kicking up splashes of crimson with each thunderous step through the puddles of blood covering the floor. With a soft hum, the secondary sensor node hidden behind the boxy television-like screen that served as their face spun to life. While it was no longer rated for medical use, SD-22’s secondary sensors had originally belonged to the station’s old nursebot. The Captain had used it to replace their old sensors which had been shattered by the foreman in an ethanol-induced outburst. In a few seconds it detected an injury their primary sensors hadn’t spotted, and SD-22 set a reminder to thank the foreman the next time they met. She was suffering from a cranial contusion and a serious concussion. The lines of leftover medical code nestled within their sensors suggested that the wound was caused by a blow from an asymmetric cylinder roughly two inches in diameter, which looked disturbingly like a fist. 

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In any case, lying in a pool of her own blood wasn’t going to do her any good. SD-22 gingerly lifted her from the ground, activating gyroscopes buried beneath the tangles of synthmuscle it had for arms to ensure her head remained still. While they may have had medical scanners, SD-22 was no substitute for a real doctor. Its expertise lay in keeping blood IN the organics, rather than trying to patch them up when it leaked out. They needed to get to the medical bay, but SD-22 couldn’t help but wonder if it had suffered a similar fate as the cargo hold as they jogged towards the sealed door. Had SD-22 been granted access to the station’s EDURON security network, they would have opened it with a quick wireless command, but instead they were forced to clumsily punch the password into a keypad designed for fingers far smaller than its chunky four fingered manipulators, as the survivor unhelpfully continued to bleed.  

After an embarrassing number of failed attempts the door slid open, but as SD-22 rushed to leave, their sonar registered movement from behind them. SD-22 turned to see what they had thought was a charred corpse pulling itself to its feet, though the medical scanners still failed to register a heartbeat from it. Perhaps they were due for another sensor replacement. The burn victim took a stumbling step towards them, blackened skin cracking and breaking with every painful movement, and SD-22 flashed a cartoonish warning signal on their face-screen. “You appear to be in critical condition” they cautioned, voice replicator set to calming but authoritative. “I advise you to remain still and allow me to assist you.” The burned crew member either didn’t hear or didn’t care, and took another step. This is wrong, SD-22’s medical code warned. Surviving those wounds, let alone walking with them, was physically impossible for a human; even with extensive cybernetics. Danger subroutines began to blare in the depths of their consciousness, and SD-22 took a step backward. The burned man grinned, and SD-22 saw rows of needlelike fangs glinting between its charred lips as it stared at the survivor hungrily. It wasn’t a crew member or even a human. It was a threat, a thing that had slaughtered the crew. Their crew. SD-22’s face shifted into a screen of pure red. “Do not approach,” they warned, backing slowly to the door. “I will be forced to harm you if you do not comply. It took another step, and with a quick burst of code, SD-22’s free hand folded into its arm, shielding the fragile manipulators in a solid brick of steel. “This is your final wa-'' SD-22 started, but the thing charged. It screeched, and lunged at SD-22 in a blur of flesh moving faster than humanly possible. Fortunately, SD-22 wasn’t human. In a microsecond they calculated the perfect strike and swung, cords of synthmuscle screaming as their fist pistoned into the thing's face and tore away its jaw like paper. Seemingly undeterred, it rolled around the punch as it grabbed a fistful of SD-22’s synthmuscle cables and pulled with impossible strength. SD-22 let out a burst of shocked static as they lost their balance and slipped backwards on the blood slick floor. Clutching the survivor to their chest, SD-22 swiveled their torso a hundred eighty degrees and caught themself with their other hand, but the mutilated creature drove it’s fist into SD-22’s back and something inside them crunched.

-Primary Sensor Package Damaged- 

Well that wasn’t good, SD-22 reasoned as it spun, sweeping a leg out in a vicious kick that snapped the thing’s knee into a right angle. It crumpled to the ground, and SD-22 righted themself before clamping a three-toed foot over its chest, restraining it to the ground, but the thing hissed and spat through the ruins of its mouth. It had been nearly dismembered in their brief exchange, and it didn’t even notice or care. Whatever this thing was, it was sick, and they doubted it was the only one of its kind on board. SD-22 raised their foot by a millimetre and stomped, pulping its rib cage with a meaty crunch. The thing stopped squirming and without a second look SD-22 left the ruined corpse where it lay as they headed deeper into the station down a hallway bathed in harsh red by emergency lighting.