For as long as Specimen 66 could recall there had only been the injections, the shocks, and the dark, damp cell that had been her home in Vykkers Labs. The passage of time was as alien to 66 as the desert was to a Gabbit; only the high-pitched mutterings of the lab-coated tormentors indicated when it was morning or night. Today, however, was different.
From the confines of her prison an unfamiliar sound awoke Specimen 66 from her restless slumber. Abruptly, she was thrown to the floor as the whole ship began to shake. An inky blackness enveloped her as she struggled to get back to her feet. As her eyes began to adjust to the dark, 66 saw that the electric field around the bars of her cell had been deactivated. Tentatively, she reached out to see if her eyes were deceiving her. To her amazement, there was no pain.
This was her chance!
Specimen 66 knew not what kind of world lay outside these bars, but she was certain it couldn't be worse than the hell she endured here. Summoning all her strength, 66 pulled against the steel bars. She could feel them beginning to break; and with one last jerk of her furry arms they fell to the ground with a loud clatter. Not wanting to wait around, she darted out of the cell block keeping to the shadows as best she could. Specimen 66 knew the general layout of the lab; she'd been taken through many of its metallic gray corridors strapped to a gurney. When she came to one of the labs, 66 found several of the Vykker scientists lying in a pool of their green blood as a lone black Fuzzle tried vainly to chew away the bindings that held him down.
Specimen 66 knew this furry little puffball; he was one of the "unique" specimens—like 66. All the other Fuzzles had brown fur; his was jet black with little flecks of white. She had befriended the little guy when they both were undergoing "procedures." This time the Fuzzle had managed to break free and had gone on a rampage. As soon as the Fuzzle noticed 66, it reared up to attack her. She stood her ground and stared down the tiny terror. In that moment when their eyes met, 66 felt a strange sensation come over her. She was sure a bond had formed between herself and the Fuzzle; which she named Chomper.
Chomper was the only living thing in this hellhole that didn't inflict pain or belittlement- a flicker of warmth and care that would otherwise have been unknown to her. When Chomper saw his two-legged friend he squeaked happily.
"Stubble friend! You came for me!"
Specimen 66 supposed being called "Stubble friend" wasn't as bad as having a number for a name; still, she wished he didn't call her that.
Extending four needle-like claws 66 cut through Chomper's restraints with a single swipe.
As the two were about to leave, 66 noticed a knapsack sitting on of the tables, though she didn't have time to rummage through it's contents. She still felt it could come in handy and quickly stowed Chomper safely inside it to make certain they didn't get separated. It seemed as if there was still power in some parts of the ship; for instance, 66 could hear the siren bells again, as well as the terror filled screams of Vykkers and Sligs.
The smell of smoke and oil filled 66's nostrils, as she turned down another hallway the walls behind her exploded in a fiery blast, spraying shards of metal like a shotgun. One of these projectiles struck 66 in the shoulder and another got her in the leg.
Still she fought through the pain, refusing to let her one chance of freedom be lost to a few cuts.
Specimen 66 could see the entrance to the boarding docks. Surely there would still be a few escape pods left, so focused was she on reaching the docking bay door 66 failed to notice the Vykker also trying to escape the free falling fortress. When the lab coat wearing spider saw that one of their specimen's attempting to escape he pulled out his dart gun, but when 66 heard the weapon being cocked she leaped to the side letting the incapacitating serum filled syringe fly straight past her.
"Tricky little beast!" The Vykker cursed.
Before he could even think about reloading his weapon 66 charged at the quack, slashing the gun to pieces with her dagger-like claws and knocking her stunned opponent on his back with a swift leg sweep. A part of 66 wanted to finish off the disgusting spider, make it suffer for what he and his Vykker cohorts had put her through… but no, she was too close to freedom to risk it on petty revenge.
Specimen 66 made it into the docking area; the fires and smoke had choked the air, making it difficult for her to see. They were all but deserted, and for a moment 66 feared being trapped and killed on this flying torture ship. Then she saw it—a lone escape pod sitting precariously on the edge of torn dock. She ran full kilter to the pod, pouring every ounce of strength she had towards her only hope of salvation. Specimen 66 leapt onto the ship, landing squarely into the cockpit.
That's when she felt it—the sting of a syringe jabbing straight into her left shoulder. She turned to see a Slig charging at her. Yet it soon became apparent that it wasn't herself the tentacle-faced thug was after—it was the ship. What a nasty surprise it was for him when Chomper leapt from the knapsack, clamping hard on the Slig guard's hand. The Slig howled in pain, dropping his weapon while he frantically tried to remove the fuzzy beast from his hand.
Specimen 66 was already starting to feel the effects of the drug; but fearing for her little friend's safety, she fought through the dizziness and backhanded the distracted Slig, knocking him against the railing. Unable to regain his balance, the Slig began to topple over the edge. Thankfully, Chomper released his scissors grip and jumped into 66's waiting arms as the Slig disappeared over the side. The fortress shook mightily. Specimen 66 was knocked back into the escape pod. The ground was coming up fast, and 66 had no idea how to start the engine.
By pure luck she pressed the right button and the vehicle lurched to life, switching and speed away from the doomed vessel. As the lonely craft flew over the beach and into the forest, 66 could no longer remain conscious. Her last coherent thought was "Free… I'm free." Then there was only darkness.