Ch2 The Silence That Avarice Bought

With grim satisfaction a man walks out of the cargo bay, knowing that from this point forward. He is a murderer and nothing could dissuade him from that truth for the rest of his days.

Everyone on board the ship is excited and prepping for the drop. When the cargo opens the ship will jostle a bit. Humans will be alright but anything small will be sent flying around.

The killer passes through the ship without interference making his way to his quarters. Sharing a space with three other men was hell. Every moment of putting up a smile and being friendly with them was a chore. Being from a different nation didn't inspire comradery. Watching someone from a former enemy nation and an ally get along was bad and being the butt of their jokes made it worse.

They didn't give me a reason to spare them and the only person who did, I JUST KILLED! Nothing will stop my conviction. Screw them, screw this mission, and screw me. If before I could be forgiven for the life I had taken. For the many I'm about to, I'll be going straight to hell. For the country, and for my family's success.

The door of his quarters closed with a clunk and a hiss signaling the room being disconnected from the ship's circulation system. The door of the other quarters closed and orange light blinked signaling that there was a fight. When security got to the door the light changed to red and alarms blared signaling a fire.

Security immediately tried to pry open the door instead of venting the air since there was crew inside. Some people ran through the ship calling for someone to open the damned door.

An engineer came running. She opened an access panel and depressurized the door locks. In their panic and never having manually unlocked one of the doors they forgot their training except for her. Instead, they scrambled to find someone who could, and by then it was likely too late.

When the doors opened no one came out. There was no smoke hell there wasn't even a fire. Nor anyone inside. What the hell happened? Sabotage and distraction happened.

Because of the chaos like the curious beings humans often are. people came to see what the hell was going on. Some few decided to secure themselves in their quarters encase the ship was compromised. That is what they were designed for after all. Each quarter was a lifeboat capable of recycling the air and water and was stocked with several months of preserved food as well as a transceiver for distress calls and to talk to family albeit severely delayed.

The majority of the crew were in one place and where they were not was sealed shut. Then the airlocks opened and every crew member that was in those halls was sucked out into space. Bodies and debris littered the horizon viewed from the ship. Then the crew quarters opened and more bodies and debris were scattered.

The airlocks closed and our killer exited his quarters. Blood smeared the walls. Broken bodies lay around the ship caught in handholds and the loose straps they had yet to tighten down. He gathered the corpses that were left into an airlock and sent them on their way.

Being a man of precaution he wore an EVA suit just in case there was unforeseen damage to the ship. He entered the control room, sat in a flight chair, and started the thrusters. The ship lurched forward and the hull creaked. Then quieted to a light hum that verberated through the hull.

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He sullenly faced what was coming. A one-way trip farther out than what the ship was made for. With the lightening of the load, he could make it. HIS Mission... Saturn.

Unfortunately, someone was left onboard, or what was left of someone. waking up in the cargo bay our lead takes a moment to recollect what happened. he.. he died and someone was there, and they did nothing to stop it. A few moments pass as he contemplates his death. noticing that the ship was moving. He snapped his attention to the outside. Is that debris?

So many bodies... Bodies, Bodies everywhere. clear as day as if he were outside the ship standing beside each one all at once. It's too much! just when his mind started reeling from the shock, and a headache was coming. It went away. His focus shifted back to himself. He was no longer staring threw the glass, and the bodies seemed farther away.

All those people were gone, and yet worse the ark had eaten him. yet he survived... no. He was the ark now. Trying to look past his crises, he commanded his body to move. It moved exactly how he hoped. Better than controlling it with signals or code. It was the same level of control you'd expect from your own body.

He patched himself into the cameras of the ship. What was it? What caused this? How badly was the ship damaged? The ship was fine. There was no exterior damage. The interior was a mess. Not a single soul could be seen. The only evidence of anyone being onboard. Were the smears on the roof the floors and the walls. Bloody foot and hand prints trailed through the halls. Someone was still here!

He patched into the control room. It was him! He killed me! He killed everyone! With no hesitation, faster than a blink, he made a decision. Every airlock every door, and maintenance hatch opened simultaneously.

The decompression force was so strong that the killer was ripped out of the flight chair before he could gasp in his suit. The straps of the chair held not even a microsecond. The chair bent and was nearly torn from the floor. The control room, the quarters, the halls, and their compartments warped from the sudden vacuum. Bulkheads buckled, consoles crumpled, and the doorways warped with the walls of the ship.

The killer vacuated the ship like the world's fastest game of Plinko, smashing against consoles, doorways, and any furniture that hadn't been ripped from the floor by the force before taking a hard left and launching out an airlock like a missal. Crumpled up like a wet wad of paper and shot threw a straw. He took enough damage to kill a man a hundred times over in a matter of a second. If miraculously he came out without hitting a thing, with their suit intact on top of it. Then the g-force would have squeezed Him harder that a tube of toothpaste. He wasirrefutably dead.

Our lead couldn't decide if he was alive or dead being what he was. He thought it wouldn't matter as he'd never get to figure it out. He could feel it. His consciousness was slipping as he rocketed toward Europa. Their only misgiving in this situation is that they wouldn't get to see that bastard's corpse splatter on the moon. His corpse was already out of sight traveling much faster than he was. His consciousness started to fade quicker the further he was from the ship, and things stopped making sense to him. Part of the arks nanites were still onboard. The thrusters burned fully like two blue stars in a sea of black. That was the last thing he saw.