Yosip finishes the last adjustment to Han's suit. It fits poorly around his small form.

"Are you sure we don't have time to paint it?" Han asks the question for the fifth time. "I look like one of those junk creatures that Capey and the gang fought in episode thirty-four."

I haven't seen the program of which he speaks, but I can agree with the sentiment. The pieces of his makeshift outfit come from no less than five separate suits. As well, the device in which I currently reside nestles against his back. Wires connect us together, allowing me to monitor the youth's energy and gas levels.

"It'll be fine, Han. Nobody but us can see you, anyway," Yosip reassures the youth, patting him on his helmeted head.

Granted, the helmet consists of the visor from a broken suit, a spare rebreather taken from another ship, and bits of plating salvaged from a partially crushed helmet that's far too large for him. I'll be acting as his communication equipment to allow contact with Yosip should they become separated.

Han grumbles to himself, still disgusted by the clashing colors. He holds a stripped-down mining laser in one set of claws, more salvage from the empty vessels around us. Yosip too is now holding a weapon, a length of metal as long as he is tall with a single sharpened end. The incongruity of such a simple weapon being held in such complexly articulated artificial digits is enough to remove his constant scowl.

I don't know whether the Supply-Master's training includes the use of spears. His hands grasp the weapon at approximate thirds of the haft, so unlike the gentle grip of many tendrils wrapped loosely around shaped wood that I remember. He at least knows to keep the sharp end pointed away from himself and Han.

The three of us nearly fill the small airlock, making movement difficult. They press against each other in the close space. Yosip cycles the air and slides open the exterior door. Han grabs hold of Yosip and the two jump out of the ship.

Yosip rarely exposes his inner desires to the rest of us, but once he had confided to me how he feared he would never again get the chance to do what was trained to do. Excepting those times when he nearly died from his love of falling, he's rather skilled at it.

With them close together like this it isn't hard to keep them both from being ravaged by radiation. Han's suit should protect him, but the many improvises in the design present too large a risk to ignore; his small body already carries an unhealthy dose of decaying particles.

The levels of ionized particles increase as we near the massive stone sphere's irregularly shaped opening. None of the seven sides are of the same length, and they join at odd angles. Yosip steers us at the center of the gaping entrance.

Gravity grabs onto us as we enter, far beyond what the boulder should be capable of generating naturally. Arcane energies tickle at the edges of my awareness, taunting me. I keep my unease to myself as Han and Yosip come to rest inside the open airlock.

When the next energy pulse spreads out from inside the structure, the outer doors close. Overlapping panels slide out and expand. The panels have a vaguely chitinous sheen to them, but the others are more interested in searching for a control panel and carry me deeper inside.

After forming an airtight seal, air starts to fill the chamber. The hissing noise almost sounds like laughter. I'm not the only one who notices, as Yosip holds his spear in what can only be a ready position, crouching slightly like a hunting predator.

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It isn't until we approach the inside door that I notice the runelights. Carved into the stone door are the same symbols that the door of my estate bear to this day, glowing with a gray-blue that lights the area as if from deep under the sea. I almost speak, but the door begins to open while I'm still overcome with shock.

"Stay close."

"Yessir!"

Yosip stalks forward, footsteps echoing loudly. He leads us into a stone corridor, twice his height but varying wildly in width. More runelights are set into the walls, though the pattern seems almost mocking in the way that it only almost matches the protective glyphs used by my people.

"This place is spooky," whispers Han.

Yosip turns around, smiling through his mask. "It's not too different from Kalibern. There's-"

The Supply-Master lurches forward under an unseen weight. Han screams in panic, dropping his laser.

Yosip twists hard and throws his assailant over his shoulder. A creature covered in knobs of reddish crystal lands hard on the uneven floor. Bits shatter off of its many arms and it starts to rise. Yosip's spear slams into the center of the thing and black ichor spurts freely.

Han screams again as the dark fluid hits him.

The creature thrashes its life away, then stills. I can finally get a good look at the thing. Its face looks like a Tserri's, though the fur is absent and the beast is covered in crystalline growths. Now that it is no longer swinging them about wildly, I count nine limbs, all arms. Arms that end in sharp claws.

I also think I can see something below the layer of crimson, but I can't be sure. "Yosip, could you scape some of that off of the beast's torso, please?"

"Well, since you asked nicely," responds the Supply-Master. "Han, pick up the laser and watch the tunnel."

Han leaps to obey as Yosip uses his spear to remove some of the crystals crusting the beast's torso. Underneath, burned into the creature's hide are the same runes that I once wore upon my carapace. I had carried them for too many seasons to ever forget the shapes. The order they're placed in almost ensures that they have no effect, however.

"Well?"

"I'm not sure, but I believe that to be the work of a thaumatist."

Yosip kicks the corpse, checking that it is truly dead. "This thing couldn't have killed anyone. Not someone in a proper suit."

"Perhaps they were ambushed. We'll have to keep going to find out more."

He starts to reply but is interrupted by the whine of Han's laser discharging. The youth fires three times in rapid succession and his weapon beeps shrilly.

"Shit shit shit shit shit shit."

"Han!"

More misshapen abominations stampede down the tunnel. Bodies with mismatched limbs, arms and legs in odd places and all covered in crystal. Each beast is of a different shape. Only the eerily Tserri-like heads and crystalline tumors mark the beasts as sharing common origins.

Energy pulses, flowing down the tunnel in a nearly visible wave. The crystals light up in particolored auras. The creatures swoon as one when the energy hits them, beginning to recover almost instantly.

That short opening is enough for Yosip, who leaps forward spear first. He jabs and thrusts, arms working as a metal blur. Flames trail his movements and fumes fill the air. Han backs into the wall, overheated weapon clutched tightly to his armored chest. His panicked breathing rocks his small body.

"Han, you need to cycle the weapon's coolant," I gently remind him. "You can do this." My voice comes out distorted and staticky. The speaker must be damaged.

"Y-yeah!"

He fumbles at first, claws made clumsy by both fear and oversized gauntlets. His breathing steadies as he hits the proper sequence of buttons. The weapon chirps brightly and it begins rapidly cooling down. Han raises the laser, readying himself.

As soon as the mining laser cools enough to function again, he sends focused beams into the horde. Timing his shots more carefully, Han is able to stay in the fight until the last of the monstrous creatures dies.

He and Yosip stand there, dripping black slime, smiling at each other. Bodies pile atop one another on all sides of them. I do what I can to rid Yosip of the charged particles already accumulating in his body, but he requires proper treatment.

"Not bad, Operative," comments Yosip before turning to go deeper into the strange alien structure.