"How bad is it?" Jack reluctantly approached Arda, his eyes scanning her suit for damage.
"Bad enough. That thing’s claws—or teeth, whatever you want to call them—tore through the membrane on my arms and chest." She gestured to a few small fissures in her suit where a yellowish, gelatinous substance was seeping out.
"Is that—?" Jack began, concern creeping into his voice.
"It’s not blood, don’t worry," Arda interrupted, attempting to reassure him. "It’s just the layer of lubricant between the suit and my body. But losing that is bad enough. Being exposed to the high oxygen atmosphere? That’s worse."
"How long have you got?" Jack asked, trying to sound composed, masking his concern behind a professional tone.
"Before my skin starts dehydrating? Hours. Up to a day until it gets really bad. It’ll be uncomfortable, but I can manage that." She began to tremble slightly, her body reacting to the ship's cold air now seeping through the damaged suit.
"And the other thing?" Jack struggled to find the right words.
"Right. That’s the more immediate problem," Arda explained, her voice still calm and steady. "Unlike humans—and most other sapients—we breathe through our entire skin surface. It’s an involuntary process. The atmosphere on this ship is 25% oxygen, slightly higher than what’s ideal for humans, but about five times what we’re used to on Therana, my home planet. It’s not immediately fatal, but there are... side effects."
"Side effects?" Jack’s curiosity was piqued.
"I’m sure it would be amusing under different circumstances, but unfortunately, I’m going to become profoundly intoxicated very soon. I’m afraid I’ll be useless to you from now on." Arda attempted to hide the embarrassment in her voice as she spoke
“You’ve done your part,” the Kharlath spoke up, its deep voice attempting to reassure Arda. “You fought admirably, and we all owe you a debt of gratitude. Allow us to repay it by protecting you.”
“Thank you.” Arda seemed genuinely moved by the Kharlath’s words. She paused for a moment, as if something had just occurred to her. “You’ve never actually told us your name, have you? What may we call you?”
“My battle brothers call me Twice-Born-Demon. You may address me in that way as well.”
“That’s an interesting name,” Jack interjected, somewhat awkwardly.
“It is not my name,” the Kharlath replied, its gaze suddenly fixed on Jack. He could feel the weight of the stare, sensing that his comment had struck a nerve, though he knew too little about Kharlath culture to understand why.
“What is your name then?” a voice piped up from the back of the room. Jack recognized the combat medic who had thrown up earlier. Now, in the relative calm of the room, Jack noticed just how young he was—probably 18 or 19, barely holding himself together.
“That’s a very rude question to ask!” The Kharlath spun around abruptly, its towering presence looming over the young medic, who froze in terror. Then, to Jack’s surprise, the giant let out a hoarse, guttural sound that seemed to shake the room. It was laughter—or at least Jack hoped it was.
“I’m only teasing you, young warrior,” the Kharlath continued, with a subtle note of amusement in its voice. “I know very little of your kind’s habits, and you know very little of mine. But just so you remember: you do not ask for a Kharlath’s name. That is knowledge only our closest clan-brethren are entitled to.”
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the unsettling sound of claws scraping at the door. Instinctively, the group reached for their weapons, holding their breath as they listened. The scraping intensified, a grating, maddening noise that began to overpower every other sound in the room. But the door held firm.
Twice-Born-Demon rose to its full, towering height, nearly brushing the ceiling, and planted its massive shoulder into the door, pushing against it with its considerable bulk. Jack wasn’t entirely sure how much that would help with a sliding door, but the display of strength seemed to reassure the others. Without hesitation, he followed the Kharlath’s lead, bracing his own shoulder against the door, even if only for show.
“Can they get in?” a timid voice asked from somewhere in the room.
“I don’t think so,” Jack replied, doing his best to sound confident, though he was far from certain. “And if they do, we’re in the perfect position to kill them. Ready your weapons, just in case.”
“How many of them are out there now?” another voice asked, directed toward Arda.
“At least a dozen. Maybe more—I can’t tell, there’s too much noise.” Her words came out slightly slurred, a clear indication that she was already feeling the effects of the ship’s oxygen-rich atmosphere.
The scraping continued, relentless and piercing, for another agonizing minute. Jack’s head started to spin, dizziness creeping in from the overwhelming sound. Just as it was becoming unbearable, the noise stopped—abruptly, giving way to an eerie, oppressive silence.
No one dared to make a sound. Every person in the room was frozen in place, their weapons aimed at the entrance. Jack and Twice-Born-Demon slowly eased off the door, not daring to even exhale. The creatures had either given up or were preparing for an even more ferocious assault.
“I’m calling for backup,” Jack finally broke the tense silence, still doing his best to project confidence. “The bulk of the creatures have to be concentrated here; this might be a good opportunity to take them all out at once.”
“Yes?” Jack let out a quiet sigh of relief as Dr. Liu’s voice crackled through his headset.
“We’ve run into a bit of a problem,” Jack explained, keeping his tone steady. “There are more of these things than we anticipated. They’ve got us cornered inside a room, and we’ve got two people who need urgent medical assistance.”
“How many?” Dr. Liu asked, his voice betraying a hint of excitement.
“About a dozen, by our estimates,” Jack replied, fighting the urge to take offense. He knew the scientist well enough by now to recognize that his enthusiasm wasn’t malicious—Liu just had a habit of getting excited at the worst possible moments.
“Interesting,” Dr. Liu mused. “The other teams encountered minimal resistance, two or three of the constructs each. If there’s some logic to their tactics, I’m failing to see it. Want me to ask Agent Okoro to send them your way?”
“I’d appreciate any help you can spare. Nereus out,” he ended the call, refocusing on their immediate situation.
Knowing that reinforcements were on the way gave him some relief, but it didn’t entirely solve their problem. Now they just had to hold out long enough for the backup to arrive. Jack quickly checked on Private Scheer. He was unconscious, which, given his injuries, was probably for the best. The important thing was that he was still breathing.
Next, Jack turned his attention to Arda, who was lying flat on the floor. As he approached, she propped herself up slightly, resting her head lazily on a nearby bench.
“How are you holding up?” Jack asked, concerned, as he knelt beside her.
Without warning, Arda ran a hand through his hair, startling Jack. She gestured for him to come closer, barely containing her laughter.
“You know,” she whispered, “you’d be really handsome without all that fur!” She broke into fits of hysterical laughter, her voice echoing through the room.
Jack quickly stood up, his face flushed with embarrassment, while Arda collapsed back onto the floor, still giggling. He could only hope that her delirium was the worst of the side effects—for now, at least.
As the group awaited the arrival of reinforcements, Jack couldn’t help but notice Arda slowly inching her way towards the center of the room, crawling along the floor. He briefly debated whether to help her or let her be, ultimately deciding to simply observe. Her behavior, while odd, was harmless enough, and at least it provided some distraction from whatever was happening outside the door.
When she reached the feet of the gargantuan Kharlath, who was now sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, Arda suddenly erupted into loud, hysterical laughter. It took Jack a moment to realize what had prompted her outburst—she was trying to peek between the Kharlath’s legs.
"Are you a boy Kharlath or a girl Kharlath?" she asked in a tone that was more childlike than anything else.
“I am a warrior,” the Kharlath replied, taciturn. Jack couldn’t tell if Twice-Born-Demon was dodging the question or simply didn’t understand it.
"Boy warrior or girl warrior?" Arda persisted, her curiosity undeterred.
"What difference does it make?" Twice-Born-Demon’s voice struggled to remain calm and indifferent, though the line of questioning was clearly bothering it on some level.
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"I am a girl warrior!" Arda declared absentmindedly, as if the subject no longer interested her, before shifting her attention elsewhere in the room. Jack let out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful that the situation hadn’t escalated further.
With that minor crisis averted, Jack found his thoughts wandering to the very question Arda had raised. The mystery of Kharlath gender had never been something he seriously considered before, but now that it had been brought up, he found himself genuinely curious. He knew about the existence of Clan-mothers, who were visibly different from other Kharlath, so clearly, there were at least different biological sexes within their species—or were there?
Jack vaguely recalled a half-remembered fact about a species of reptiles on Earth that were all female, capable of reproducing without males. What if something similar was true of the Kharlath? People usually defaulted to referring to the Kharlath as male, largely based on their general appearance and demeanor, but that assumption was rooted in human biases and stereotypes, which might not apply to an alien species.
Then there was the fact that Twice-Born-Demon looked different from any other Kharlath Jack had seen or heard about, even the Clan-mothers. Could it be a third sex, or was there something entirely different at play? He quickly realized his knowledge of biology was far too rudimentary to draw any conclusions, and wisely shifted his focus back to supervising Arda, silently hoping to avoid any more uncomfortable situations.
“What’s your status?” Jack’s headset buzzed with the familiar voice of Corporal Āwhina.
“The same. We’re holed up in this room, no sign of hostiles as far as we can tell,” Jack replied, trying to sound professional.
“We’ve just met up with Zhōu’s team, about 30 meters from your location. Everything looks clear from this end. Mind taking a peek outside the room for me?”
Jack signaled for a few members of his team to follow him, weapons drawn. He cautiously opened the door, just wide enough to peek through. The hallway outside appeared deserted. Taking a deep breath, he fully opened the door and stepped outside. Still no sign of the creatures. He turned back toward his squad, putting on his best authoritative tone.
“Close this door behind us, and don’t open it under any circumstances unless I order you to! And take care of Arda and Scheer!”
After cautiously walking a few meters up and down the hallway, Jack called Corporal Āwhina again, giving his report.
“All clear on this end. But be careful, these things are stealthy!”
The group waited for reinforcements, with the tension in the air almost palpable. Jack, ever cautious, ordered his team to lower their weapons to avoid any chance of friendly fire. He knew most of his group lacked combat experience—a decision he now deeply regretted. They were nervous, and it showed.
Soon, the familiar figure of Knight Zhōu appeared from around a corner, followed by a dozen others. The squad collectively exhaled in relief at the sight of the Templar. The two parties rushed to meet each other.
“I thought you said you were overrun?” Corporal Āwhina teased, laying a hand on Jack’s shoulder.
“They were right outside the door. I don’t know where they went,” Jack stammered, struggling to justify himself as the Corporal chuckled.
“Nah, I believe you,” she said, pointing to the door covered in deep claw marks, some large enough to fit an entire finger. “Get your people out. We’ll double back a couple of times just to make sure it’s clear.”
Relieved, Jack gave the order to open the door, and the rest of his group began to pour out. Though they had only been inside for under two hours, they looked as if they had been trapped there for days. Twice-Born-Demon effortlessly lifted Private Scheer over its shoulder again, while Jack moved to help Arda to her feet. She either weighed far more than she appeared to or was deliberately making it difficult to get up. Jack, struggling, eventually resorted to draping her over his shoulders like a cape as she giggled absently, her fingers tangled in his hair. Jack did his best to ignore her newfound fascination with his “fur” as he struggled to carry her to the med bay.
The danger was far from over, but the group was too drained to feel fear anymore. They moved quickly through the hallways, their exhaustion palpable. Only Jack’s constant reminders kept them vigilant. As they neared the elevator, Jack began organizing the evacuation. Twice-Born-Demon was first, carrying Private Scheer and supporting Arda, followed by the rest of the group, split into two groups of four.
Jack stood guard as the first two groups ascended, counting the seconds until the elevator returned. When it finally arrived for him, he allowed himself a brief moment of relief as he stepped aboard, his body and mind aching from the tension. He counted the floors anxiously, repeating to himself: Just a few more minutes and we’re done.
After they had captured the Mothership, Jack used to dream of being in command again, longing for action, anything to break up the monotony. But now, after this ordeal, he was done for good. It felt like he had aged years in just a few hours. As the elevator doors slid open, he exhaled, trying to ease the weight in his chest. Just a few more minutes he repeated, stepping out.
Deck 8 was a stark contrast to the silent, desolate lower decks. Armed guards patrolled every corridor, and there were signs of life everywhere—voices, even music, and occasionally the faint aroma of coffee or food. Most of the squad relaxed in this relatively peaceful environment, but Jack’s unease lingered. He couldn’t understand why the creatures had simply vanished. Did they give up? Or shift tactics? No matter how hard he tried to relax, the feeling that something was about to go wrong gnawed at him.
His fears were confirmed moments after they entered the med bay. His headset hummed to life, Dr. Liu’s voice crackling through with urgency.
“This is Dr. Liu, requesting immediate assistance in the Library—we’re overrun, they’re everywhere—” The signal cut abruptly. Not a good sign.
Jack sprang into action, ordering the uninjured members of his squad to follow him, leaving Twice-Born-Demon behind to tend to the wounded. Sprinting down the corridors toward the elevator, he frantically tried to reach Dr. Liu again. Nothing. Silence.
“Nereus, you got that?” Knight Zhōu’s voice buzzed in his ear, carrying a hint of despair.
“Yes. I’ve been trying to raise the doctor again. He’s not answering,” Jack responded, doing his best to keep his voice steady as he ran.
“Neither is Sergeant Mendel, who was supposed to be with him. We’re heading there now, and Agent Okoro has ordered a few more squads to join us. Let’s just hope they’re still alive by the time we get there. Zhōu out.”
“We’re all going to have to fit inside!” Jack blurted out as they reached the elevator.
The cramped space made it nearly impossible to point their guns at the door. A stupid mistake, Jack thought to himself. As they arrived on Deck 19, he was relieved to find the hallway outside empty. From where they were standing, the deck appeared utterly deserted, but faint sounds of battle echoed in the distance. With reckless abandon Jack sprinted toward the library, his squad trailing behind, less eager but following nonetheless. There was no sign of Okoro or Barrett as they passed the Major’s headquarters, though the floor was littered with monster corpses.
The group burst into the library and were met with a scene of utter carnage. Dozens of soldiers stumbled through the aisles of shelves, struggling to fend off an overwhelming swarm of creatures. The floor was strewn with bodies—some lifeless, others writhing in pain, wishing they were dead. Jack’s instincts kicked in as one of the monsters lunged at them, and with quick reflexes, he drew his pistol, shooting the creature mid-air.
“Retreat to the doorway!” he yelled to his squad as the monsters began to take notice of them. “Form two lines on either side, backs to the wall, and shoot anything that gets close to the exit!”
With those parting words, Jack charged into the chaos, pistol in hand, doing his best to remain unnoticed. He ducked behind a shelf, moving forward on his knees, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands trembled, but he forced himself to focus. He needed to find Dr. Liu. Another creature, barely alive, attempted to lunge at him, weakly collapsing meters away. He put it out of its misery with a quick shot.
As he neared the center of the room, he saw a familiar silhouette emerge from the madness. Knight Zhōu, covered in silver-colored guts, was in the thick of the battle. Surrounded by a dozen monsters, he fought with a ferocity that was hard to believe. The Templar threw creatures across the room, wrestled them to the ground, and tore them apart with his bare hands. Encased in his armor, Zhōu moved with terrifying speed and precision, seeming more beast than man as he carved his way through the horde.
For a brief moment, Jack considered stopping to help, but quickly realized that any attempt to assist would only slow the Templar down. He continued toward the back of the room, his steps heavy and cautious. At the far end, behind the force field that once contained the creature they’d captured, Jack could make out two faint shapes—one man cradling another in his arms. As he drew closer, the dim light revealed Dr. Liu, sitting on the floor, with someone in combat armor lying motionless across his lap, seemingly asleep.
Just a few more steps, and suddenly Jack felt a sharp pain shoot through his leg. He collapsed, hitting the ground hard. In a daze, he turned just in time to see one of the creatures, mere inches away from his face, its thorny tentacle wrapped tight around his leg. He fired his pistol, the plasma bolt tearing through its body. The heat singed his torso as the creature’s hot, wet insides spilled all over him. He let out a yelp, a mix of pain and disgust, trying to catch his breath. It’s just a robot, he repeated to himself, over and over, like a mantra as if the thought could somehow dull his revulsion at the slick, burning sensation spreading across his skin.
Jack rolled over, trying desperately to push the dead weight off him. The creature’s tentacle remained tangled around his leg, hanging limply as he struggled to free himself. His attempts to stand were futile—his leg wouldn’t hold him. Crawling, he dragged himself toward Dr. Liu, his eyes darting behind him, watching for more of the creatures.
As he neared the force field, he now recognized the man in Liu’s arms as Sergeant Mendel, grievously wounded. He couldn’t tell if he was still alive. With the last of his strength, Jack lurched forward, collapsing against the force field’s smooth surface. The low hum of the energy barrier droned in his ears as he rested his weight against it, struggling to catch his breath.
“They’re moving through the vents!” Dr. Liu didn’t waste a second greeting him, his voice muffled by the barrier. “Radio waves don’t go through the force field, you need to warn everyone!”
Jack turned on his headset, relaying the doctor’s message on a wide channel.
“Is he alive?” he asked, pointing to Mendel, still lying motionless in Dr. Liu’s lap.
“Not for long,” the scientist replied, with an uncharacteristic hint of compassion in his voice. “And we’ve got another problem. You’re going to pass out in a few minutes.”
“I’m fine, it barely got my leg!” Jack protested.
“They inject you with some sort of toxin, I think. I’ve seen it in action. We didn’t notice before because everyone that came in contact with them was either killed or heavily injured. But in the last few minutes, I’ve seen people with barely a scratch on them collapse.”
“But what about Twice-Born-Demon, the Kharlath? It’s been almost a day since the creature injured it, and as far as I know, it’s still walking around,” Jack continued to argue.
“There are too many variables to account for. Let’s just say that you are not a Kharlath, nor do you weigh half a ton.” The scientist was uncharacteristically concise as he fiddled with a strange device, seemingly cobbled together from random parts. “You need to inform Okoro of our situation and get inside the force field.”
Resigned that Liu was right, Jack communicated their situation to the agent, with as much detail as the circumstances allowed. He turned off his headset, and tried to stand on his own as the force field came down. Dizzy, he almost fell to the ground while he slowly crawled next to Liu. As soon as the force field came back up, he let out a sigh of relief, lying down flat on the ground. He tried to talk, but no sound escaped his mouth. With great effort, he turned his head, noticing the scientist examining him, concerned. A few more seconds passed, and he could barely keep his eyes open. Finally, he relented, and surrendered himself to the darkness.