Heavy breathing filled the EVA suit’s helmet as Salvador navigated with his designated squad towards the twisted wreckage of Ruby Eye. It had been months since Sal had last needed to do engineering work on the outside of Starheart, but the controls for the voidsuit’s thrusters came back to him quickly once they were in his hands. The meeting for the investigation had been somewhat awkward, with a number of security crewmembers objecting to Sal’s involvement, but Elijah stood by his decision, citing the Senior Supervisor’s prior experience. However, not all of the experience he had gained over the years were times Sal wanted to remember. Especially not his outings at Tartarus Nine.
Moving from past memories and still shaking away the thoughts of his incident with G9, Sal did his best to focus on the mission at hand. In his group were three security officers, all with direct EVA experience from fighting against Doctrine forces, that were taking point. However, by his side, was an unexpected face.
“So, having fun with the aliens so far, Salvador?” Dr Michaels teased next to him. Apparently, the good doctor had spent time on a remote station and often made EVA trips from the separated bases located on different asteroids. Just my luck, Sal thought.
“Screw you, doc. I’ll have you know they make for much better conversation than your appointments.” Sal’s cheeks flushed at the lies behind his words. He hoped that G9 wouldn’t be upset with their tiff.
“Aw, come now Sal, you know you missed me already. And besides, you may need an extra checkup from overexposure to these Cambiar.” As Sal thought he’d finished, he pushed his annoyance even further. “Can you hear it, Sal? Tick, tock, tick, tock. Cuckoo.” Mimicking the sounds of his stupid clock.
“Shut up back there, we’re meant to keep chatter mission focused,” The leading officer, a brute of a man called Talon, grunted. The group had been standing on a void-ready cargo mover sled, altered for use in space, to make up the majority of the distance to Ruby Eye, dodging larger pieces of debris as they went. Some of the leadership of Starheart and Ruby Eye didn’t trust the smaller ships awaiting use in the former’s hanger, out of fears of potential tampering. Fears, that would hopefully be dissipated today.
Switching to direct communications with Michaels, he asked, “Hey doc, I’ve got to ask – how many Cambiar do you think there are? I mean, there’s at least a few hundred of their ships here, right? Is that most of the Out-Han?”
Looking over at his patient, Dr Michaels dropped the reflective visor from his helmet. “Truthfully, Salvador, I can’t say for certain. I have overheard from Titus that his discussions with the Rexia gave him some stunning figures regarding population. Now, this is just a rumour, but I heard that the Out-Han are one part of what used to be a massive alien empire. But get this, apparently, this Out-Han are one of the smaller factions of Cambiar, but even then their faction’s total population is over a trillion individuals. Big, isn’t it?”
What, did Sal hear that right? A trillion? The concept of that many aliens, and likely even more, was enough to make him gawp. Michaels must have picked up on his stunned disbelief, softly chuckling. “I know, dear Sal, it’s a lot to take in. In fact, you see this whole fleet? One of just under a hundred. Imagine how many ships the entire empire’s parts would have combined? Again, not sure if it’s true or not, but I would like to believe so. And have you seen the speed at which some of them can change? How much one individual can alter themselves? It’s truly fascinating to watch in real time.”
“I, uh, saw a little of it. Mostly just a colour change.” And maybe some desire to begin groping, but that could be chalked up to G9 being overly curious, right?
“Indeed. Little things like that are quick, but with enough time, they can change or grow anything it seems. Intriguing but highly disturbing.”
The sled moved in silence for a few more minutes before Michaels pointed at a distant ship.
“You see that one? That’s the Hammer of Victory. It’s not part of the Out-Han, it’s another faction, an envoy ship from the Ten-Tri. The full name is ‘The Ten Tools of Triumph’. Bit of a mouthful, but better than ‘The Cycle of Outstretched Hands’. Whilst it seems all Cambiar have this stiff, utilitarian thing going on, the Out-Han are all about exploring and searching. Those Ten-Tri, however, they’re all about finding some purpose in the universe. Not in a religious sort of way, I think, but more in a… materialistic way. As if there’s some physical peak they can reach.”
Sal saw the doctor put his hands on his hips and stare longingly at the distinctly shaped ship. It lacked the overly organic aesthetic that the Out-Han fleet had, with a more streamlined shape, almost meant for in-atmosphere flight. Its shading was that of blood, left too long in the sun and oxidising to brown.
“You met any from there yet?” Sal baited, seeing how much Michaels knew.
“Eh, not personally. There is apparently one of their diplomats, a certain Rexia Protheus, on your ship, one with a black crown.”
Sal vaguely recalled seeing one during his stay on Fifth Spoke, the one who was speaking to Titus during their initial arrival onto the ship. The idea of multiple factions with different outlooks on life was worryingly reminding him of his earlier lecture on Paradise and Heaven’s Doctrine. Would humanity entangling themselves with the Cambiar open up a whole new front for war; more Eternal Wars than could be counted on his hands?
Those thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sight of movement along the surface of Ruby Eye, now close enough to make out the clear panelling of its surface. Adjusting his visor’s scanner, he could vaguely make out the quadrupedal shape of many Cambiar, slinking across the metal. Based on his quick study of complementary information the Cambiar had provided to all human crewmembers, he recognized that these were the Jherl caste. Tall, thin and dark as night, their main role was to work in the vacuum of space, or in constricted areas. The image of dozens of indistinct dark shapes crawling across the hull sent a slight shiver down Sal’s spine.
As soon as he spotted them, the rest of the team took notice. “Hey, what the hell are these xenos doing on our ship?” cried out Talon. He was in the process of drawing a vacuum rifle, modified for space combat when another officer stopped him.
“Didn’t you hear? Titus gave the go ahead to let them join in. Said that it was a sign of ‘goodwill’ between H&H and them. I don’t trust the freaky buggers, but orders are orders, sir,” the less temperamental crewmate said.
Grumbling to himself, the officer holstered his weapon as Sal checked his own gear. He hadn’t been given any guns, but did have a series of tools for surveying damage and a grappling launcher to allow for faster movement in the vacuum. Gliding into the middle split of Ruby Eye, trailing behind the Jherls, the team was one of many that entered the shattered wreckage. Looking along the major tear along the outer hull, a mess of tangled metal and external utility runners, Sal could see where the ship had split outwards, the outer bulkheads bulking towards space. The scale was too vast for Sal to get clear information regarding means behind the vessel’s destruction, so Sal decided to wait until they were further in. The sled came to a stop, and the team disengaged their magnetic boots, lifting into zero gravity.
“Keep up with me. I don’t want to be doing this all day,” the grumpy officer ordered over their comm-link, beginning his thrust towards an opening to the bow side of Ruby Eye.
Drifting through the emptiness, occasionally steering around fragments of debris, Sal followed behind, cautiously making note to give some space to the Jherl. Their shape somewhat reminded him of an old proto-wave movie that Abel had shown him, the offending antagonist in it monstrous and black as night. He shivered seeing them scuttle about from the corners of his eye.
Finally, the group of investigators set down in the remains of a damaged hallway, a shattered light above their heads still slowly leaking chemofluorescent liquids into space. “Command, this is Bravo-2. Have the other teams moved into position?” Talon grunted down the comm-link. Following confirmation that the rest of the investigation teams were already moving inwards, Sal’s team descended into the darkness within.
Navigating, they pushed past collapsed corridors, rooms split open like rotten fruit in the sun, and crumpled portholes. They reached one of the automatic sealing bulkheads, beyond which survivors had already been evacuated. Ending at a split junction, Michaels and Sal were tasked with inspecting the cargo hold sections, located beneath the remnants of the engineering and manufacturing decks. The pair went slowly, checking the tension marks and scorch burns along the sides of a stairwell.
“What do you make of this, Salvador?” Michaels enquired.
The doctor touched a plate that had bulged outwards from the wall. Sal stomped closer, his mag boots not giving him much delicacy when walking. The engineer closely studied the metal, and the way the metal had rippled from the explosion.
“I can’t say for certain, but these lines here,” Sal indicated to a point near the bottom, “look to me that the explosion, or whatever caused this, was insanely hot, and must’ve been localized to one point.”
Sal left the stairwell to check another plate in a different hallway. The angle it was different enough, considering the relatively short distance between it and the stairwell sheeting, to give Sal the impression that the source of the explosion must have been precise and originating from a single spot relatively close by.
Michaels nodded along. “That would make sense to me. If it were some projectile, even if it somehow passed through the Scar Field and outer bulkheads, there would be a trail of floors and ceiling all bowing the same way outwards. Instead, this looks more like…” the doctor trailed off.
“A bomb, or localized explosive from inside the ship.” Sal’s suspicions couldn’t be proved, and this was far from definitive proof, but it was building a dangerous image in his mind. His quick reading on Cambiar weaponry showed it was somewhat basic in form, though highly effective, and didn’t mention any form of teleporting or phasing ammunition. Their ships tended to use organic materials, similar to that of tusks or bone, inlaid with heavy metals, which were fired using railcannons at speeds far beyond current human capabilities. So far, Sal had seen no signs of this ammo so far in Ruby Eye, not a single sliver of bone.
Kneeling at one of the plates, the two were deep in thought when a strong vibration rang out across the floor behind them. Sal drew his grappling harpoon as the duo were met by a tall Jherl looking down on them. As it stood, breathing in and out, vapour slowly exited through the visor-like attachment on its face. It fiddled with the wires leading from its translator to the back of its head for a moment before a voice broke into their short-distance comm-link.
It said, “Apologies, voidwalkers. I had intended to contact you earlier but must have been on the wrong frequency. I was just checking your status. How are you doing?”
Sal shared a glance with Michaels. “We are… fine, Cambiar. Have you found any new information yet?” Sal asked carefully.
If the alien had picked up on their unease, it didn’t show any recognition. Instead, it gave a sharp shake of its head.
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“Unfortunately, no, voidwalkers. I was tasked with the acquiring of the bodies of your lost comrades, but the situation was… upsetting. I have relived myself of work for a short time.”
That was far from the reaction Sal had expected from the nearly eight foot tall being that looked closer to a sci-fi monster than an empathetic being. Much like in his previous discussions with G9, he leant over and saw this alien’s tail swishing back and forth, though in a slow, drifting manner. The hooked tip on the end didn’t quite match the image of a distressed alien, but Sal could look past that for now.
“Well, we were planning on going to the cargo bay soon. There should be less cadavers there. If you wish to assist in our findings, we would be more than happy to take any help, Jherl,” Michaels seemed more relaxed than his engineering partner, and he spoke with a relaxed tone.
The alien agreed, before spitting out a long designation to refer to them by, which Michaels quickly cut down to a short ‘F5’. The newly formed trio descended further into Ruby Eye’s bowels, the vibrations of the other teams echoing above them. Watching closely, Sal saw that F5 did not have any form of magnetic clothing, instead using its long limbs and tail to grasp onto its surroundings. When they reached a gap in the stairs, he briefly saw the expulsion of gas from slots along the aliens back. Some sort of biological EVA thrust system?
After reaching a tight fit through a ladder, they entered one section of the enormous cargo hold. With standard lighting it would be difficult to see all the way to the end of a single compartment section, but now, it was pitch-black. The flashlights provided a modicum of visibility but were still dwarfed by the vastness of the space. Surprisingly, the bulkheads had managed to seal the area off from the rest of the nearby damage, keeping it pressurized. The area the trio found themselves in wasn’t directly damaged by the explosion, but had a number of dents in the ceiling, likely from the resulting shrapnel.
“Sal, I’ll go check the ceiling, you look in the cargo containers; the explosion could have damaged their contents.” Michaels signalled towards a series of stacked shipping containers, each as big as a colony’s pre-fabricated housing unit, as he drifted towards the ceiling. Sal nodded to F5 as they made their way over.
“Senior Supervisor, I must ask, what are your predictions regarding the incident regarding Ruby Eye? I hope you do not still consider Cambiar involvement,” the alien asked.
“I… can’t be sure. For all I know, you guys could be holding out on super weapons or something. But, my gut does tell me that something fishy is going on. I’m still hoping that this was some sort of terrible accident, maybe a discharging power unit from the fusion engine overloading badly.” Sal gestured to the first container, painted in silver and white. With great effort, he broke the first seal on the lock and twisted at the catches that held the door in place.
“You know, I can’t really get a read on you Cambiar yet. No offense, but sometimes you guys are all a bit difficult to understand. It’s just that… well you sometimes act very un-human.”
The alien nodded. “I see. If I may, Senior Supervisor, may I make a query? You refer to me, and Cambiar in general, as ‘guys’. I understand the generalization, but do you think your sexes apply to us?”
“Uh, I guess not. Just a term I use, sorry.”
“There was no offense intended by my question. It is more that…” the alien trailed off, the translated comm-link whining softly. “My human in the partnering program, though he was unsuitable to join us here as part of the investigation. He served as a cook on Starheart. When I see him, I feel… odd. Like I must know more, feel more about him. I have seen the ways human castes-, no that is incorrect. The sexes interact. Some are friendly, but some carry out activities I am unclear on the meaning of. Close contact, intermingling of oral cavities, and other acts. I was shown a video of these things, but my understanding is flawed.”
Oh, for the love of Christ, who keeps showing the aliens humans getting busy?! Sal heaved another bar to the side, unlocking more of the container as he tried to plan his response.
“Well, F5, I don’t think you are the first Cambiar to… feel this strange way. I mean, what do you think about seeing that stuff?”
“I feel… good. Pleasant. I think I would like to engage with these activities, if nothing else but to explore them and see how my partner would react.”
Ah fuck. “Uh look, F5, that’s great and all, but a word of warning, make sure you talk to your chef friend about this before actually acting upon it. It might be, well, unexpected.”
“I see. Do you think he would be reciprocative?”
God in heaven, Sal had just wanted to explore a blown-up ship, not deal with this crap. “Well, maybe? Humans are weird, you know? We have specific attractions. Sometimes we like things for no apparent reason that because… we like them. Say, for example, some like big… features and some prefer them smaller.”
“Features?” F5 mused. “Do you think my partner would appreciate my replication of these approximation of human female features?”
Sal froze and turned from the cargo container to his alien coworker. It was hard to make out in the darkness, and against the alien’s black skin, but sitting there, clear as day upon closer inspection were a pair of defined, teardrop nippleless breasts.
What in the actual fuck.
Sal’s unexpected leering was interrupted by him being pulled to the ground and smacking his head against the inside of his helmet, his magnetic boots deactivating to prevent his ankles from snapping from the abrupt change in gravity.
“Oh, what the hell?” he confusedly muttered. All around the bay, the baryplates had reactivated, and lights had flickered on. Groaning, and with F5’s assistance, he stood back up. A shout from above directed the pair to Michaels falling from the ceiling, gravity once again pulling on the doctor. With reactions faster than Sal could’ve expected, Michaels pulled out his grappling launcher and fired it into the ceiling. He stopped a couple metres above the ground, suspended by a wire.
“That… was too close,” he frenziedly laughed. Not quite the same reaction Sal would have, but the man did keep a collection of knick-knacks, so maybe hysteria in near death experiences was par for the course.
“The power’s back on? Don’t tell me those idiots in security switched the backups back on without telling anyone,” Sal angrily wondered aloud. Switching back to full-range comms, his ear was met by a wild rush of overlapping arguments and orders. It seems many others had been put out by the reengagement of electricity without warning.
The thoughts could wait, however, as a rumble emanating from the cargo container grew in intensity. Michaels was lowering himself as Sal approached the door. Locks removed, it only needed the latch released before the doors were open. Hand on the switch, the sounds rapidly grew. Before he could say a word, the doors flung open, striking and throwing Sal backwards across the room and skidding along the floor.
Head pounding, and blood streaming from a gash across his forehead, he blearily looked up from his pone position. Standing before Michaels and F5 was a naked human figure. Larger than any man Sal had seen before, even Abel, was a pale, hairless thing - muscles swollen and skin tight across its organs, like a vacuum-sealed bag across raw meat. Bloodshot, recessed eyes moved from target to target, as green liquid trailed off its form, coating the floor.
This was a goreskin, a mass-produced artificially grown human, altered for the purposes of warfare by Paradise. Surviving only a few weeks out of hibernation, they were stronger, faster and more dangerous than any normal man could over hope to be. With armoured skin, and a berserker’s physiology, they were the ultimate counter to inner ship or station combat, outside of cyborgs. And now, it seems the one before them had been rudely awakened. An unintelligible roar erupted from the beast as it sprinted towards Michael. Darting backwards, he did his best to evade its blows but was clipped on the arm by a punch. F5 stepped in, clawing and slashing at the monster, its thick, black blood being drawn with every strike. Despite their… her?... efforts, F5’s attacks seemed to do little to dissuade the goreskin, as it turned to a new target.
With great effort, Sal stood to his feet as the Cambiar danced away from a flurry of heavy blows, any of which would likely be fatal to a human. Even with an oozing wound the size of a fist in its chest thanks to F5’s efforts, the beast was unrelenting. Finally, it ducked a clawed strike from F5, and threw a wild gut punch, sending the alien flying backwards. F5 landed and hissed with pain. Sal lurched forward, desperate to help, when a well-placed shot from Michaels sent a grappling hook straight through its head, and out the other side. Turning for a second, as if it couldn’t understand the concept of dying, it looked at the doctor, pain not even registering in its face.
Then, it dropped dead, congealed blood spilling from the body. It seems that even an abomination such as a goreskin still needed most of a brain to work. The trio were panting heavily as they huddled up.
“F5, you ok?” Sal murmured, his spiderweb of a cracked helmet making it difficult to see out properly.
“I am fine, thank you. The attack was strong, but I am durable. Michaels, is your arm ok?”
He nodded. “I’m a doctor, I’ll deal with it.”
Their discussion was halted by the sounds of banging from the other containers, containers that Sal now realized were also coloured in similar white and grey tones, roared from across the chamber, wild shouting echoing from with them.
“Oh shit,” Sal muttered.
The team turned to escape through the stairwell, only to find the door had sealed when the power returned.
“Fuck, fuck! I’ll cut this open,” Sal fumbled for his cutting torch, preparing to slice the thick metal apart. The sounds of metal shredding open bounced around the cargo hold as dozens of goreskins ripped through their containers, desperately searching for something to kill. A distant one locked on the trio and sprinted, fast. In its rampage, it tore a different sort of sealed container open, with as much effort as one would open a plastic bag.
Seeing how slow the door was opening, Sal needed to switch tactics. “Everyone, behind me. F5, Michael, do your best to get that door open.” He stepped towards the barrelling monster, his head dizzy.
With his grappling launcher, he fired in into the ground and lifted the outer floor lining open to reveal, with a hiss of success, a very pleasing sight. It was the outer sections of the baryplate responsible for gravity around them. Much like Starheart’s cargo hold, it would appear that Ruby Eye’s cargo lining was not that thick before the baryplates were reached.
Adjusting his cutter’s frequency, he waited until the goreskin was nearly on him before searing a line across the exposed metallic glass. Hurling himself to the side, Sal saw the goreskin’s charge turn into a floating flailing as it lifted into the air, released from gravity. Tumbling through the space, Sal saw more goreskins approaching. “Michaels, F5, door, now!” he shouted.
The pair had done well; the Jherl had used their strength to claw away at the locking mechanism whilst Michaels used his powered prybar to stab and slice at the hinged seals. Wobbling back towards the two using his mag boots and hearing the roars of other goreskins floating not far being, he hoped desperately that they wouldn’t adapt to the lack of gravity quickly. The area freed from gravity wouldn’t be large, and if they landed in another area of the hold, they would be able to rush them without any hinderance. Running as fast as he could with the boots, he made it to the door as the animalistic howls descended on the three. With a grunt of exertion on all parties, Sal, Michaels and F5 finally swung the door open, and tossed themselves through. Gasping for air, they sprinted up the stairs and left the creatures behind to rampage until someone could depressurize the space. At least, Sal hoped that goreskins couldn’t survive in a vacuum.
Settling at the top of the staircase, back where they first entered, they slumped to the floor, panting with relief.
“That… was way too close,” Sal groaned. He tried to rub his head but only bumped his hand his helmet’s visor.
Seeing the state of Sal’s helmet, Michaels leaned over and started applying seal patches over the network of cracks that had formed. “I agree. I can definitely say that tangling with bioweapons was far from what I wanted to do today,” the doctor said, sticking the translucent patches over a particularly strained crack. “But I have to say, did you two see what I saw?”
“The… goreskins?” F5 innocently asked.
“No, not them, though that is a big issue that will still raise plenty of questions. It was in the container the second one smashed open.”
Sal thought back. He was a bit more focused on not dying at the time, but he recalled seeing a glint of metal inside.
“I got a good look; it was a unit of mechanized armour.” Michaels seemed certain.
“A mech?” Sal said in disbelief.
Mechs were uncommon in warfare, despite their admittedly awe-inspiring appearance, though maybe that was Dusty’s fondness for the things rubbing off on him. They were often too large and risky for smaller ship combat, as they could be lost with the vessel. Instead, they were more used for larger station raids and planetary defence. True to his scepticism, he wasn’t aware H&H were supplying the Expedition Fleets with mechs.
“Indeed, but not any mech, that was a GaltCorp Mark Three Durand Combat mech, fitted with toned down Masslock Recoilless Rifles, syraline armour plating, and twin rotary cannons. Definitely top of the line.”
Though the presence of another company’s mechs on a H&H Expedition Fleet was definitely strange, and they were almost definitely not legitimately obtained, another question came to Sal first.
“Doc, how do you know so much about combat mechs?”
Michaels’ expression became sheepish. He had said too much. Forcing the look off his face, he shrugged. “Well, I fix wounds, so it’s only right I know what makes them. Is that an issue?”
Sal supposed it didn’t really matter. Dusty could probably list every single screw inside the mechs on his TV series, and perhaps Michaels didn’t want another hobby for Sal to make fun of. For now, Sal was happy enough to be alive, and didn’t press further. As they stood up to rendezvous with the security half of their team, a crew-wide order was given to all investigators.
“Attention crew. Halt all activities immediately.” The voice was Captain Curtin, drenched in haggard dismay. “A team has been searching Ruby Eye, and… we can confirm the cause of the incident. Based on their preliminary findings, and the physical retrieval a deactivated device, we can narrow the cause of the destruction of Ruby Eye to… sabotage.”
It was true, there were traitors amongst them.