Ghost Ship
Something I wrote for last Halloween, it's a side - story full of characters that I'll either never miss or are just made up on the spot, for the sake of not screwing up my Shadow Stalkers universe. XD
The series of stories won't be posted here, but if this goes down well, then more SS side stories will be.
_ ESC _ = Environmental System Circuitry.
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Ghost Ship
The ageing star ship Atilk drifted helplessly through the abandoned outer reaches of Veneshian space territory. Lost after an age old battle, she and her crew were claimed missing in action and forgotten, although she had sent out a sub-space distress signal. And to this day, she is still afloat in the vast black sea of space, that very same distress call echoing out from her decaying and smashed bulk, seaking out help....
A warship by the name of Mendaris Fire drifted through the Veneshian territory on orders from General Newark to locate the source of a distress call that had recently been picked up on their newly re-fitted scan system. Captain Mekhi sat in the command chair on the bridge of the small warship, reviewing the data from the distress call. According to what he was reading, the ship had been knocked off course by some kind of spacial storm during the course of battle and had gotten lost. They'd been badly damaged and had lost four decks to decompression. That's where the call ended. Abruptly. Mekhi leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand across his chin thoughtfully. There were no names mentioned, which was unusual for a distress call, but it all looked grim. Decrompression, even if contained, can still cause damage for a ship. The stress put on the frame can be immense, especially if it's caught up in a storm or battle.
''Ten minutes until we arrive, sir.'' Said Ensign Karrogh.
Mekhi nodded at the Frilled Lizard and he turned back around in his chair and continued with his job.
Mendaris Fire continued on at half speed, scanning it's surroundings, searching out the location of the lost ship, Atilk. Then it appeared. A wrecked hulk of a ship, drifting in the close distance. It's lower hull was ruined, showing the skeleton of this old ship, a gaping hole like a ragged metal maw.
Mekhi leaned forward in his chair. He knew this ship. Had been on it when he was younger. His father's command, sent to it's death many years ago.
''Lieutenant, arrange an off-ship team. We're going for a walk.'' He grunted.
---Warship Atilk; Airlock One---
Atilk swayed and creaked the eerie song of the dead and decaying as they boarded through the stiff doors of the heavy air lock. Dust and other micro debris floated in the air, lit up and glittering softly by the small lights mounted on their space helmets as they stood uncertainly, looking around at their long dead surroundings, the ice cold feeling of unease creeping slowly up the spines of the six strong team. The partition door down the corridoor to their right was sealed tight, keeping the suffocating environment of space at bay, but for how much longer, nobody knew.
''I want three pairs to explore the remaining decks.'' Mekhi said calmly, ignoring the slowly settling sickness in his gut. ''I'll head to the bridge and see if I can find out more of what happened. Karrogh, you're with me. The rest of you; you know the drill.''
The others saluted as best they could in the dead environment and sorted themselves out. The Lizard followed Mekhi obediently through the broken corridoors of Atilk, ignoring the ghosts of the past that lay in decay, the partially rotten corpses now held in a state of stasis by the lack of false environment that was so crucial to with-holding the lives of so many onboard any space faring ship.
''What do you think happened to them...?'' Karrogh quried as they stepped over the smashed and slumped form of what was once a large built security officer.
''I don't know.'' The Elven replied simply.
---Frontal Docking Bay---
Two small fighters hung from their liftlocks like old fruit that had been forgotten. Lieutenant Mo'Lomb and Crewman Shalle inspected the buckled hulks, not quite knowing what they were looking for. The lighting system wasn't working, leaving them fending off the smothering darkness with the small lights of their helmets. Zero gravity tugged lightly at their armoured bodies, slowing their movements, as if the air around them was thick and sticky.
''Found anything yet, Shalle?'' Mo'Lomb's voice crackled over the suit's com.
''Nothin' yet.'' Shalle replied. ''.. Wait a minute... I'm gettin' something we-''
Shalle landed on his front, something curled around his boot like a thin black snake, ready to strike. A circle of white light flashed downwards, revealing it to be a coil of discarded wire, hanging from the liftlock arm. Mo'Lomb chuckled and pulled his partner upright.
''You were saying?'' He chuckled softly.
''I was saying, that I'm getting some weird readings from this area. The data stream on my visor's going nuts.'' Shalle replied, kicking the wire snake from his foot accusingly.
''Weird how?''
''Weird as in bad. But I'm not sure what it is. Switch to environmental scan, see if your suit's picking it up too.''
Mo'Lomb watched as data scrolled down the left side of his visor like a water fall; the read out for their current environment.
''It looks normal to me.''
''Hmm... Maybe I got a small malfunction in my ESC.'' Shalle replied and they moved on, furthering themselves into the buckled remains of the small frontal docking bay.
The Rabbit didn't mention the horrible feeling of being watched to the Lieutenant. It was a feeling he got all too often, one that stirred the primal fear in the back of his trained mind. Instead, he focused on the forest of ruined wiring and steel that had been bent out of shape by a blast, giving it the effect of a disgusting face lurking in the dark shadows. Shalle stared at it; couldn't pull his eyes away from it's staring, hollow eye sockets of buckled metal and hanging wiring. The ship was watching. Atilk was watching all of them with quiet malice.
''Uh, Lieutenant...'' He quivered, a shard of icy fear sliding quickly up and down his spine. ''We need to re-group and get the hell out of here...''
''Sorry, what?'' Mo'Lomb asked, peeling his attention away from the three rotten corpses that lay sprawled about their work stations.
''Y'know that bad feelin' I get...? Well, I'm gettin' that feelin' right now...'' Shalle said and backed away from the face.
Mo'Lomb sidled up beside him, looking at the twisted metal patch of hull.
''You're seeing things again, Crewman. Now snap out of it.'' He said cooly.
The ship grinned. It was the grin of a maniac; Homicidal. Shalle stepped back, tripping over a length of twisted vent pipe and he landed heavily on his back, watching as Mo'Lomb gripped at his throat. Shalle's environmental readings spiked violently. He watched his Lieutenant helplessly, the visor of his helmet adjusting to pick up the fine grey mist coiling around Mo'Lomb's throat, squeezing tighter and tighter, like a Constrictor on it's prey. Mo'Lomb faught the mist, but he couldn't see it, Shalle's suit being the only one so far to have been adjusted to the new protocol. Shalle watched, horrifed by his fascination at his friend's early demise, a demise caused by the mist only he could see, the mist that cracked Mo'Lomb's helmet, leaving the Fox open to the brutality of an oxygenless space, suffocating him without remorse. Mo'Lomb sank to the uneaven floor, the last of his breath being sucked from his lungs as the air from his life support tank hissed out, being consumed by space.
Shalle scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could, wanting to leave the ghosts behind him, to bathe in the twisted grin of Atilk.
---Deck 5; Rec Room---
Chief Kyltren and Crewman Rygoroh looked around in horror. The corpses around the room were twitching, bones snapping into place once more, claiming back their sockets and joints. The old uniforms hung from their partially decayed bodies and black holed eyes stared at the two hungrily, malice for the still living heating their hollow eyes.
''What the fuck?'' Rygoroh whimpered, backing up with her senior officer.
Bones cracked, teeth clicked together and the two living backed up against the wall, the door just to their left. They wouldn't make it. Knew they couldn't make it. The dead crewmen were closing in from all directions, like a pack of hungry Wolves stalking their prey, starving for their flesh.
''Captain Mekhi? Captain Mekhi, do you read me?!'' Kyltren hissed into his com.
The small device crackled, blantantly refusing to transmit his message, leaving the female Frog and the male Mule in the lurch, cornered by the forgotten soldiers of forty years past.
''This isn't right. They were dead when we came in here!'' Rygoroh snapped.
The Mule looked helplessly at the Frog and she winced.
''Not your fault, I know. Ooohh Gaaawd.....'' She said, the blunt click of her seized gun echoing across the steady rythm of bones. ''This is bad.... This is very bad...'' She whimpered, pressing harder against the cold wall, as if it would provide her some form of protection away from the comming slaughter that was edging it's way towards them.
Something banged hard against the door, the thick sheet of metal vibrating from the blow. Someone was trying to get in, trying to force the seized door open. Rygoroh and Kyltren's gazes danced nervously from the approaching corpses to the door.
''Chief!? Chief, are you in there?'' Shalle's voice called out, muffled by the heavy door.
He was answered by a gut churning scream, the result of many teeth sinking into the neck of the Mule. He kicked and faught the old crewmen, but they only piled atop him, like wild Hyenas, all eager to get their own pound of flesh. Rygoroh hopped over the mess of upturned and broken tables, the desperation to find an exit becomming too strong. She knew Kyltren's fate was sealed, could hear his flesh being torn from his body, his space armour discarded like pieces of flimsy, useless tin. She scurried behind a pile of chairs to hide, the curved furniture having been thrown to one side of the room when the ship was rocked violently, possibly by the merciless spacial storm. No time to think of that now, though. Let the zombies have their prize and try and find a new way out.
She ignored the term she'd just used in her own head. There were no such thing as zombies. But there was. Right infront of her, devouring her fellow crewman, the sound of wet bone breaking, muscle and flesh being torn and shredded.
''Shalle?'' She whispered into her suit's com.
A moment of static. Then a faint click and a hurried reply.
''Rygoroh?! What's happening?'' Shalle asked worridly.
''They're eating him.'' She said hoarsely, not quite believing what she was saying. ''The bastards are eating Kyltren!'' She squeeked in dismay. ''I need to find another way out!''
For a moment there was no reply. Then there was another quiet click and Shalle's voiced panted down the line and into her ear.
''At the back of the room, in the corner, there's a maintenance panel. Get through there and follow the tunnel. I'm waiting on the other side.'' He said urgently.
Rygoroh hesitated no more, the old crewmen getting bored with their fast dwindling feast of raw flesh, and she scurried to the other side, spotting the hatch Shalle had mentioned, carefully prying the cover open and sliding inside the tight shaft.
---Corridoor 1 - A---
Captain Mekhi and Ensign Karrogh trod carefully through the dead bulk of the crumbling warship, Atilk, unaware that it was grinning at them from the shadows, watching every move they made. The shadows around them stirred like dark serpents, coiling around the twisted and broken remains of the ship. Karrogh spun on his heel, gun raised. He knew something was there. Something unnatural and alive.
''Ensign?'' Mekhi asked the paranoid Hare.
''I could've swore we were being followed...'' He replied slowly, his gun still raised at the darkness.
''Continue on, Ensign.'' Mekhi ordered, his determination to get to the bridge fighting off the sense of impending doom.
Karrogh hesitated a moment, still staring into the haunted shadows, before moving onwards, as ordered.
They stepped through a partition door, but Karrogh grunted, something holding him still, frozen in place and unable to move.
''Quit messing about Ensign Karrogh!'' Mekhi snapped angrily, biting off the following sentence, surprised at his sudden flash of anger.
''Sir... I c-can't move...'' He mumbled.
The door twitched, fighting it's way out from it's seized place in the bulky door frame. It shook angrily, straining against the metal of it's prison, the loose wiring and steel panels vibrating from the force. Karrogh whimpered and tried to force his body to move, but he couldn't. He was stuck, the feel of many icy dead hands holding him fast and tight, restraining him, holding him to the spot so he would be ready to meet his doom. Mekhi grabbed ahold of one of his arms and tugged, the rattling of the heavy steel partition door growing stronger, it's wheels squeeking in their ruts, eager to move, to do their job and seal off the section of corridoor. Mekhi fought frantically to save his Ensign, but the terrified Lizard couldn't move; wanted to move oh so badly, but couldn't. Atilk and her ghosts wouldn't let him move. The Captain's grip slipped and he rolled backwards, the door slamming shut, the sudden, swift movement seeming like a trick of the eye.
Karrogh stood there, eyes wide, blood spraying the inside of his helmet with each breath he exhaled. A large smear of red glistened on the door, glittering jovially in the small light of Mekhi's space helmet. Karrogh twitched and his knees buckled, the front half of his body sliding a little way down the door before falling forward with a wet thump; his body having been sliced cleanly in half by the heavily armoured door. Mekhi gagged at the sight. Everything inside his ex-Ensign had been cut apart by the door. And the Captain fancied he could hear a soft, cruel laugh echoing up through the old ship. Now he was stranded in the fore of the vessel, all other partition doors seized up and unable to move of their own accord or his.
He backed up, and ran in the direction of the bridge, ignoring the crackling static in his ear; his com link refusing to work.
---Corridoor 3 - C---
Shalle pulled Rygoroh from the maintenance vent, her look of terror and sickness hidden by her helmet.
''We need to get out of here.'' Rygoroh panted, biting back an unwanted whimper of fear and loss.
Shalle nodded.
''I know. I've seen them.'' He said, now dragging her along behind him.
''There's more?!''
Another nod from the Pidgeon as he continued to lead the Frog, like a small child in trouble with her parent.
''It's the ship. Can't you hear it?'' He said, casting a glance over his shoulder. ''It's laughin' at us!''
''Laughing? It's a ship! Even its computer's AI can't do that! Anyway, I'm more worried about what's in the ship with us!'' Rygoroh protested, putting an emphasis on the 'In' word.
''Nah, nah, I've seen it's face! Atilk is watching us! The bitch has already had Lieutenant Mo'Lomb, and she won't stop until she's claimed us all!'' Shalle said angrily and dragged Rygoroh around a corner, stopping dead in his tracks, the Frog slamming into his back and staggering backwards.
He could see the grey mist, curling and writhing slowly, like a box of snakes.
''What...?'' Rygoroh's voice crackled uneasily down the com and into his ear.
''They've found us...'' Shalle replied softly, quietly admitting defeat to himself as the partition door behind them had slammed shut upon their entry to this particualr section of corridoor.
''They...?''
Rygoroh was going to say more, but the floor beneath her feet groaned painfully, the eerie sound of metal slowly buckling and tearing. The floor sank and then cracked open like an egg shell, letting Rygoroh plunge into the mess of wiring and twisted steel below, her slim Frog form hitting the debris, the metal forcing it's way up and through her body. Shalle couldn't have reacted quick enough and cursed himself for not being able to help, the moment being made worse by the soft gurgling moan echoing into his ear. Then all went quiet. The mist swirled and Shalle stood frozen to the spot, inches away from joining Rygoroh on the wounded remains of the deck below. He squeezed his eyes shut, mainly through a defiance of some kind, refusing to watch the world around him fade to black as the wires that snared around him squeezed harder and harder, his space armour sinking and digging into his flesh, his bones crunching, grinding and breaking. But still Shalle refused to give Atilk the pleasure of his screams.
The old warship would have to find that reaction elsewhere, he thought bitterly, biting back another scream of blinding agony as his shoulder bones pushed hard against his skin, slowly tearing the flesh open inside the suit. An icy cold bolt of grey mist shot towards him, freezing the hotness of his pain, even just for a moment; And blood started to bubble from his mouth and nose. His eyes bulged, slowly being squeezed out from their sockets as the pressure became too much. Then it did become too much. Blood seeped from the torn material joints, leaking out around the tight black wires.
In the depths of the frontal docking bay, Atilk grinned wider. Another victim caught, another soul ripe and ready to be used for her fuel.
---The Bridge---
Captain Mekhi, now the only survivor of the away team that had departed from Mendaris Fire a little over two hours ago, he couldn't quite remember, having lost track of time once things onboard the old stricken warship had started to get weird and he'd lost communication's to his own warship, which he could now see out of the main viewer, waiting patiently for him; a safe abode, a welcoming place to hide away from this space faring monstrosity. He leaned against a console unit, it's crewman slumped across the damaged panel face and rotten. Just like the rest of the bridge crew. Still in their seats at their stations, their fraying, torn and beaten uniforms hanging from their near skeletoned bodies. In the base of the bridge, the Captain sat back in his command chair, thin arms hanging over the edge of the arm rests, head tilting forward, chin in his chest. Mekhi stepped forward, ignoring the bridge crew, focused on the Elven sat dead in his seat of command, a man he knew all too well, one that he had once loved; still loved infact.
He was the man that had gotten him into the business in the first place, by showing him around this ship when he was younger, when Atilk was still in one piece, armed and ready for battle, just like her crewmen. He rounded to the side, stopping in his tracks with a faint cracking of bone and a wheeze. The chest of the dead Captain was rising and falling. The balding head swung limply to look at him, and two hollow eyes focused him. Mekhi's heart raced, pounding hard as he paced around, to the front of the command chair, sinking down to a crouch, the non-existent eyes staring at him, not maliciously, but strangley lovingly.
''Father?'' Mekhi mumbled, as if to himself.
The dead man grinned, the move made all the more easier by the lack of lip tissue and muscle.
''Son. I've been waiting for you. We all have...'' The old Captain wheezed.
Mekhi's heart felt as if it were to explode in his chest, his breath comming short, leaving his body all too quickly. He felt light headed. His hands shook, the strength falling from his body and he sat on his knees, looking up at his long dead father.
''I look forward to you serving with me, son.''
Mekhi couldn't speak, didn't have the energy to, otherwise he'd have questions. Questions like what happened and why he left his mother to raise four small children on her own. But he couldn't, the questions becomming lost in a wheeze. His air was running out quicker than it should, and his father just stared at him with his hollow eyes and that skeletal grin. He could see the face. The face of Atilk, the warship, lurking in the shadows of twisted metal, loose wire and broken console faces behind his long dead father. The ship was grinning. Possibly even laughing. Then Mekhi collapsed, slumping forward, lying at the feet of his father, the Captain of Atilk, the one who was now being controlled by the ship, instead of being in control of the ship.
The ship lit up, all systems comming online, being forced from their beaten comatose state. A rough clanking sound and a low grinding and Atilk moved forward, making the space betweent Mendaris Fire and herself grow. Atilk's shields flickered as they came online and a heavy clank sounded as the main turret swung around slowly, powering up a shot. Then the entire ship shook, as if caught in an earthquake, Mendaris Fire's shields failing and the newer, stronger warship being torn apart by Atilk's shot.
Mekhi looked up. Saw the bodies of the crew slumped in the positions they'd died in and then looked down at his own. When he looked back up, there was a little more to see. The crew were there, unwounded and looking alive, standing over their bodies, hands and paws passing through their corporeal corpses as they worked the consoles. His away team were stood in the bridge door way, not a scratch on them, helmets removed and staring around them.
''Now we move onto the next wandering ship.'' His father said from his seat.