Last Days of the VSC Steadfast [Mini-Fic]
#9 of Scraps
The last mini-fic for February comes from Viv - and this is a project with an interesting background!
One of my biggest problems as far as writing goes is that... I really, really like to worldbuild. When I have an idea, one of my first instincts is to construct an entire setting around it. A lot of these ideas spin into huge settings... That I usually don't do anything with - at least not publically. Until I mentioned the concept to them, huzzah!
I mentioned a species of aliens from my high sci-fi setting; The Rim. Hailing from a planet wracked by hyper-mutative plagues, the Vekk are a race of soft, doughy ladies taking inspiration from tardigrades and grubs. Extremophiles by nature, they can survive some of the worse conditions in the galaxy - and, in this story, a gal is forced to become one in order to survive in her damaged ship!
It's revitalizing to revisit an older concept like this - and I really do relish the chance to talk about some of the settings I put work into like The Rim. If you're ever curious, always feel free to ask if you want me to talk your ear off :3
Sweat rolled down Catalina's brow as she looked over the holo-map of the VSC Steadfast.
The Steadfast had effectively been her home for the past three years - a starship on a xenobiological research endeavor; one Catalina herself was commissioned by the Coalition to take part in. She was one of many xenobiologists aboard, but at the moment, she was the sole occupant of the lab...
And, grimly, she worried that she was the last one alive.
When the shipboard AI announced an "impending celestial event", it sounded so nice. Catalina wouldn't be surprised if half the crew ignored the following warning to brace for impact. The 'event' turned out to be a migrant field of asteroids - careening headlong into the path of the Steadfast. The ship wasn't among the fastest in the Coalition's fleet -and more damningly, their shields didn't offer any protection against physical impact. Catalina could recall that she felt like she'd been upended when the first asteroid struck - but now, she was reeling for a different reason.
Despite the holo-map clearly stating the damage to the research vessel, Catalina was in disbelief that it was anywhere near as extensive as it displayed. The bridge was breached, the starboard side was missing sizable chunks, and hallways were voided all throughout the ship. Breached areas walled her in on every side - cutting off her path to EVA storage on one side, and cutting off her path to the escape pods on the other. She had no protection, and no escape. Worse still - she had no food, and no way to contact any rescue party...
But, that wasn't to say she was doomed.
Part of their research involved taking genetic samples of native species of planets they visited; and synthesizing them with mutagens in order to introduce their genetic quirks on other species. Understandably, most samples she had on hand wouldn't do anybody any good - but, as she sat despairing over her fate, one species in particular came to mind.
Residents of the plague planet Sternguard Lambda, the Vekk were a species famed for their resilience. The mere act of survival on their blighted homeworld was a monumental feat; but beyond that, their unique biology allowed them to survive in any environment. Extreme heat, cold, high pressure - or no pressure. Though she knew it wasn't indefinite... She recalled an anecdote of Vekk surviving prolonged exposure to vacuum.
And yet, for all that, their bodies were...
A sharp ping broke Catalina's train of thought, directing her to a bevy of machinery beside her. Pushing aside a metal panel, Catalina withdrew a roughly-triangular device - bowing out on one side; and hollow on the other. A number of tubes extended from the hollow side, which she regarded with distaste... But with a resigned sense of resolve.
It went against a dozen guidelines of a xenobiologist of her position to experiment on herself, but... In this situation, introducing Vekk genes into her system was the closest thing she had to a way out.
Even then, she realized, it wasn't a guarantee. If one of the senior xenobiologists were here; perhaps she'd have a little more faith, but... Her experience with synthesizing mutagens, especially as far as narrowing the desired effects down to just what she wanted, was... Somewhat lacking. As far as she knew, she'd get everything but their extremophilic tendencies...
But, bitterly, she understood that even in the worst case scenario, she was choosing a quick death over a slow one.
Catalina raised the device to her face - covering her nose down to her chin. She maneuvers the tubing into each nostril; then the last into her mouth. Her teeth come to rest on a small mouthpiece - the trigger for the device. Getting rid of everything in her lungs, Catalina exhales; holding her breath for a moment longer...
Then, biting down on the mouthpiece, she harshly and quickly inhales. A sharp hiss from the device precedes the arrival of an... Oily quality to the air she's breathing in - thick and greasy and almost tangibly rolling down her nose and throat. When the hissing stops, she drops the device, starting to cough.
Amid her coughing fit, she can't help but longingly think of how else she could've gone about this process - with a hypo-needle, or drinking it as syrup, but aerosolizing it put the mutagen in her lungs - where she needed it, for her most desired effect. She can feel a tingling in her core - a warmth radiating out from her lungs into her chest. Her coughing grows wetter - more phlegmatic, as she staggers over to a table.
Out of breath, Catalina wheezily inhales - feeling her chest inflate... And feeling her clothes strain. As with every other member of the science team, Catalina wore a white jumpsuit with a green band around the collar and arms. It rested tightly against her slim body, even on a normal day - but as she feels that warmth reach as far as the surface of her skin, she can feel the suit begin to stretch further.
"Uh-" Catalina grunts, grasping at her throat. Her mouth hangs open - and be it the irritation of the mutagen or her coughing fit, it feels noticeably more... Wet. She can feel something drooling over her teeth - but as she tries to raise her tongue to touch it; she finds something holding her tongue fast to the bottom of her mouth. An ineloquent "A-ah?" escapes her as she feels her teeth make contact despite her lips hanging agog - a sensation that doesn't just remain, but compounds as she makes her way over to a nearby table.
Picking up an aluminum tray, she carelessly dumps the tools resting upon it onto the table, holding it up to her face as a makeshift mirror. A pallor has crept across her skin - something she doesn't know whether to prescribe to the mutagen or the shock of what has become of her face. Her cheeks are visibly bulged out; and her lips seem to have thinned - growing paler still as they simply ring the off-white orifice her mouth has become. Despite hanging agape, she tries to open her mouth further, and...
Her cheeks begin to tear - exposing two stiff, brown structures now liberated from the inside of her mouth. Catalina drops the tray tries to scream - but all that escapes her is a wild, warbling sound. Stretching her mouth open again, the new structures extend to occupy the space her cheeks once had - settling in as a curved set of mandibles. Following her screech, she takes a deep breath again - but rather than feel constrained by her jumpsuit, she feels the pressure building inside of it... Release.
Looking down, she quickly discovers why.
With another warbled chitter, she finds herself staring at a curvy roll of flab extending from a tear in the rubbery material of her clothes. Like the skin of her face, the exposed flesh now forming a smooth fold around her midsection was pale - a ghastly shade of bloodless off-white. Placing a hand upon it, even the texture feels off - smooth, hairless - by the time her eyes fall upon it, she watches her navel swell out and smooth over into an uninterrupted expanse of rotundity.
Another deep breath heralds the tear working its way upward - running along the zipper of her jumpsuit as the fabric yields way to another roll of flab... But one that seemed oddly defined from its predecessor. Brushing the shredded material out of the way, her hand runs from the soft, doughy flesh to that which sits between it and the next roll - halfway through; the texture grows stiffer, and a shade darker - something growing harder for her to discern as she continues to swell outward.
This was... Easily the least desirable side-effect she could have asked for - but one she can't say she hadn't anticipated. Such as the Vekk were famed for their resilience, so too were they known for their... Considerable girth. The subject she'd extracted her sample from was as much as four feet wide - and as the last material tethering the lower half of her jumpsuit to the upper half finally snaps, Catalina can't help but dread that she'll end up similarly.
The odd pattern of... Separation between softer sections of skin seems to continue across her legs - Catalina can feel a firm pressure as her skin twists and hardens to divide sections of her thigh into two soft, eggshell-toned sections; then watches as they swell to the point of eclipsing the divide.
Looking down at herself, Catalina flinches as she sees something roll past her shoulder and onto the floor. At first, she tries to bend down; but the... Stacked folds of fat make that an impossibility. She steps back, trying to maneuver her gut out of the way - but as she does, something else begins to fall. Though her movements have grown sluggish, she manages to catch it - and, in the paling palm of her hand, she sees a lock of her own hair.
Chittering nervously, she reaches up to her scalp - at first, she can feel hair still resting upon it... But as she pulls her hand away, she feels the hair come with her. Catalina gives a phlegmatic bellow as she looks down at her raven locks in her hand... And gives another as she watches her hands begin to deform.
It began as a twitch at the base of each finger - forcing them to tense. Already the segmented softness had reached her wrist; and her palm had begun to swell up further. She was surprised to see the tone of her fingers darken; as her flesh stiffened into something of a shell. Her nails seemed to stretch further out - bowing downward. The border between it and the rest of her fingertip disappeared - and before long, she found herself with a chitinous set of claws on each soft hand.
Though she made an attempt to look down at her feet...
Admittedly, she couldn't quite seem them past her stomach. What she did see, however, was her breasts - having finally liberated themselves from the remnants of her jumpsuit's upper half. With the way the rest of her body was forming, she feared that they'd amass into a solitary unit, but... Mercifully, each one was left defined from the other. They sloped slightly under their weight - and as she hefts one upward, she discovers that her nipples had disappeared from their surface.
A loss she laments with a soft chitter.
She tries to close her eyes - but finds her muscles straining to do so. Her mandibles click together nervously as she approaches the aluminum tray once more - and finds an alien creature staring back at her.
By now, only a few strands of hair were left on her head - which, like the rest of her, was a soft, rounded expanse of off-white. Two slit nostrils rested over her mandibles - and her eyes seem to have shifted into a pair of chitinous black beads set on either side of her head. Again, she tries to blink - but this time, finds the muscles to do so entirely gone.
By all accounts, she was as close to a Vekk as any subjects she'd studied over the years.
Once more, Catalina takes a deep breath - but doesn't find herself swelling any further. While she didn't want to tempt fate - she could only assume the mutagen had run its course.
Swollen, mutated, and practically nude... Catalina takes a nervous step toward the lab's doorway. It parts with a soft hiss, allowing her out into the hall - and over to the shut airlock. Through a reinforced window, she can see the breach in the hall on the other side - a melon-sized hole bored into the outer hull of the ship.
Once she hears the lab's door shut behind her - Catalina reaches for the airlock's release - gripping it as tightly as she was able with her chitinous fingers. Unable to shut her eyes or wince away, she yanks the release handle - and as soon as the door parts, she can feel the air rushing against her bare skin. Pressure vacates her half of the hall with violent force - tearing away the last scraps of fabric and hair resting on her smooth form. She can feel herself sliding forward - closer to the door, but as she impacts it, her sheer girth keeps her from being pulled out further. With as slowly as the door opens, it isn't long before the last of the wind stops, and Catalina feels...
Tingly?
The airlock finally opens up into the voided hall - and despite her exposure, all Catalina can feel is a gentle tingling across her doughy skin. She takes a step inward - then lurches. She feels something drop in the pit of her stomach; and for a moment, she prepares for a violent bout of decompression sickness, but... As soon as it happens, it stops.
Deep in her core, she can still feel herself... Breathing; but not in a way she'd ever experienced. Her chest still heaved, but she didn't exhale any. Scratching her head with her chitinous fingers, she makes her way down the hall, feeling disproportionately pleasant.
The bridge was still a long ways off - but, as far as she knew, she had time to get there. Idly, she wondered if the navigation system was still intact. As much as she'd love to book a ticket back into the Sol system...
For some reason she couldn't quite place, Sternguard Lambda sounded positively homey.