Dead Space: Ascetic

by PyroFox117

AU. Sequel to "Dead Space: Ordination". Curtis and Nicole are living on borrowed time. Everyone from EarthGov to Unitology to eldritch terrors from distant stars wants a piece of them; they'd prefer to remain intact. To make it to the next disaster, they'll need to rely on old friends and new allies, as well as each other, as they survive a new world together. OC X Stalker!Nicole

1. After the End

Hello, one and all! Welcome back to my Dead Space saga! It doesn't feel like it's been long, and I suppose it hasn't; less than six months have passed from the end of Ordination to the publishing of this first chapter after another story in between, which I'd call a decent turnaround.

This work will function similarly to A Fun Weekend at Freddy's: an anthology series bridging larger entries. The difference is that the former was composed of three long chapters that told of events spanning a single weekend, whereas I expect this to comprise several shorter chapters strung across months or years. More episodic, and it will build to the events of Dead Space 2. Curtis and Nicole will have to escape the Ishimura for that to happen, though, so it may be wise to brush up on Dead Space: Salvage, which this opening episode is based on.

As a content warning, there's a slight lemon to start the story. Kind of a twist to put that sort of thing at the start instead of the end, but it's going to be light compared to the last one. Look, I'm a weird guy, as you've probably all learned by now, but hardcore necrophilic sex is a bridge too far for me. Unlike Mike and Foxy (and really any other couple I write about), I don't feel comfortable describing the deed in detail, so it'll be painted with a broad brush. I think that makes sense with the sort of relationship they have, though. It's more cerebral and spiritual than physical for Nicole, and Curtis also appreciates those aspects.

Also, I'll explain one of the more confusing lines ahead of time. One of the characters in Salvage is clearly modelled after Russian president Vladimir Putin. Like, it's obviously him, or at least him how he looked in 2010 when the book came out. It's such a weird and jarring detail that I had to make a joke. But it's only a joke – Putin wasn't cryogenically frozen for 500 years in this universe… though that'd explain a lot about the apocalyptic future they inhabit (rimshot).

That's it for now. I'll just leave you with my usual appreciation for people dropping follows, favorites, reviews, all that good stuff. And if you want to engage with me and other fans, you can find us on my Discord, An Invisible Server. I had a change of heart about making one since Ordination. Here's an invite link (just remove the spaces and asterisks):

www*.discord*.gg / HPcMTpxVsH

USG Ishimura

1 Month Post-Outbreak

Curtis sat. He did that a lot now. Perched on the edge of his cot, he stared into oblivion. Sometimes, like now, the only voice in his head was his own. Empty. Quiet. What most of humanity was accustomed to. Other times, someone else lived in there with him. Regardless, he had few ways to pass the time.

There was no longer any work to be done. They'd scrounged up enough dried and otherwise preserved food and nutritional pills to feed Curtis for three months if he rationed. They'd resigned themselves to letting ship systems fail outside their room. No call of adventure encouraged them to explore the rest of the Ishimura and Valor like they used to.

It may as well have been the end of history. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, the only escape was inward. Media and the mind, echoing across millennia. They read books and watched vids and listened to songs and conversed about these things from disparate centuries – 16th to 26th. All of time happened at once.

Which often got disorienting. So much and so little happened as the hours crept by at a snail's pace. Had to remind himself that the year was still 2508. He was Curtis Mason, Class 5 Miner, RIG number 492770. And he really, really wanted to get out.

A comforting presence wrapped around his mind in response to this mounting distress, which immediately took some of the edge off. Only helped somewhat, since no amount of comfort or pleasing illusions could remedy the reality of their situation, yet her strength propelled him forward. Maybe they would exit the frying pan without leaping into the fire.

You'll worry yourself to death if you keep on with this, Nicole said in his mind, placing her claws on his back as she walked up to him. We've done everything we can. Anguish won't help anyone at this point. He exhaled deeply, lungs pushing tension out with the air. Always knew just what to say to make him feel better. Maybe that didn't seem impressive when they could share a mind, but he believed more than biology was at work. They just knew each other very well. After all, they'd been together constantly as boyfriend and girlfriend for a small eternity. Would've been a bigger surprise if they didn't become intimate.

Whatever happened to them, he'd be forever grateful for all the time they got to share. She sat down beside him and slung her arm around his neck. Speaking of intimacy…

How'd you feel about sex right now? He didn't need to ask if she wanted to fuck, for she agreed before the question fully formed, but that was polite.

Sure, she replied with a shrug. Nicole made it no secret that sex did little for her physically, but the high she got from making him feel good was enough of an incentive for her to agree most times he asked for it. Which was a lot. Yeah, you can't keep your hands off me, his girlfriend teased as he stripped out of his clothes. She didn't have to, for her chitinous plates offered protection enough against the elements. Plus, most outfits weren't designed for someone of her gangly proportions. There was a fresh lab coat she occasionally donned when the mood struck her, but that was all.

We don't have much else to do. There's only so much media I can take before my brain turns to mush, he answered. His light RIG came off, thrown onto the ground while he went back over. Cold air brushed his skin, and his feet trembled upon the frigid floor. The generator they rigged to power the room constantly fought against the heat diffusing to other parts of the ship, which began to drop into the negative triple digits. It'd been chilly in there for a long time. Good thing they had blankets, a few of which he slipped under to cuddle against Nicole with, who was herself chilly, no longer producing body heat. But this? I could do this with you forever.

…that might be nice, she admitted, slinging his head into the gangly crook in her arm. They turned to each other. Her mandibles flared out as she grinned, showing off her lovely teeth. He kissed her, something she couldn't quite reciprocate, not having lips. Closing the gap, they rubbed noses – his nose against her open nasal cavity, anyway. Mmm, you smell like chocolate, she thought.

And you smell like lavender. That's some nice perfume you found. He gave another small sniff, still surprised she smelled so sweet. Excoriated flesh tended not to be an air freshener scent. However, she turned out to not be so "messy" once they got a chance to clean up. Absolutely everything was disgusting when the ship lived and undead armies dogged them to Hell and back. Now the only thing left of them was a protoplasmic soup that quickly froze as the temperature dropped. They both smelled and looked much better after a few days to rest, bathe, etc. All the dried blood and other crusty substances were off her, and her body wouldn't produce much; the Black Marker gave her a bit of a facelift.

Turned out that she didn't decay anymore. The Black Marker couldn't restore her to life, but it could suffuse her with more energy than the Red Marker offered, which was enough to keep her from degrading further. Some Necromorphs could apparently last a long time (centuries, even) under the correct conditions, but they generally weren't made to endure so long. Ideally, Convergence would begin within days or weeks of an initial outbreak, so they weren't meant to be lasting investments.

Nicole was. For that, the two were grateful. Curtis didn't know how they'd handle being the Black Marker's agents, but at least he now trusted the – Still living in the past and future, his girlfriend chided, but ignoring what's right in front of you. Yeah, he guessed he was.

You're right. I'll drop it for now. There was much to think about, but it could wait until after this special moment had passed. Speaking of which, they finally got to that.

He wrapped his arms around her, exploring every crack of her body with his hands while his brain plied a similar trade with her mind and soul. Her pleasure manifested in a gentle purr and small, blithe waves with each caress. The sources of their joy were not identical, though they overlapped in places. His happiness was largely carnal. He enjoyed sex, and getting in her holes came close enough. She lacked normal orifices, so vaginal and anal were impossible, but others led to… interesting possibilities. More than a human offered. He continued for a few minutes, mostly acting upon her passive body in whatever ways she consented to, occasionally getting involved when he requested. Regardless, she agreed, joyous in her own way.

Her elation stemmed from making him happy. Feeling his pleasure, knowing she did that for him, gave her a high unlike anything else. It created a feedback loop, with both deriving delight from making the other feel good. Even if she didn't care for sex directly, she still enjoyed the results! The good news was that she lacked sexual reflexes. Human bodies unconsciously reacted in many ways during sex, from erection to orgasm to muscle spasms. Necromorphs had such instincts flushed from them, since they no longer needed to procreate. Which was good, since her massive claws ripping into him during a bout of pleasure would have put the kibosh on his fun (and life). So, yeah. They had an unusual sort of intimacy, but it made them happy.

Eventually, he got off and rolled to the side, grabbing a rag to clean up the mess. Sorry if I got a little too rough, he sheepishly said. Knew she could take it, but he didn't want to bother her.

You were fine, she replied. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself! There's nothing to do, so I'm fine with this as often as you want. That reassured him, at least. Not much else to do besides fuck, consume media and, if they felt adventurous, mess with each other's heads. That last one was fun – like the most advanced VR technology, they'd gotten so good at influencing the mind of their partner that they could supplant reality with whatever they wanted. Didn't mess with it too much, though; the Black Marker told them that trying to come up with more outlandish scenarios might permanently scramble his brain. Fun as it would be to roam through a fantasy world or whatever, it wasn't worth going mad for.

You sure? Nicole teased. She jumped out of bed and sprang up, wearing a goofy grin. Where's your sense of adventure? He rolled his eyes. More than anything, he was surprised by how much his girlfriend changed over the past month. And not in the obvious way; she became a lot more open and jocular, a hint of biting sarcasm peppered in, as well. We could relive all our greatest hits. Want to roleplay me chasing you around or that race we had to see who could dispose of the most nuclear material the fastest? Curtis laughed, recalling those moments when they first met and were bound together by circumstance and smooth talking. Hindsight was a luxury, of course. He felt terrified beyond rational thought at the time.

Tempting, but I'll pass for now, he quipped back, leaning his head against the wall. For the time being, he felt compelled to reminisce on what happened until then. All the time he and Nicole spent together… it was nice. The rest of their time marooned on a decaying spaceship, not so much. Either boring or frightening, and those periods could largely be divided into coequal portions of two weeks.

The first two weeks were drab, though salvaging a decent stockpile at least kept their minds off being stranded, so they lacked the capacity to make him dread.

At the start of the second two weeks, though, entropy won. The geological apocalypse that rocked Aegis VII when a continent fell from the sky turned out to be even more explosive than he imagined. After mounting volcanism, plainly visible from orbit, the planet blew itself apart. They'd predicted it would for days, given the damage, and managed a rare trip to the outer edges of the ship to watch the lightshow. Witnessing the world disintegrate before them brought some closure. It symbolized the end of so much pain and guaranteed the Red Marker's destruction.

It also set them adrift and made him afraid. Untethered from any orbit, the Ishimura was flung into the farthest reaches of Aegis. He learned from studying maps of the system in the ship's databanks that there was no Aegis VIII. VII used to be the most distant planet in the aging binary star system. Beyond was the structure's equivalent of Sol's Kuiper Belt – an expansive field of icy planetesimals, trojans and comets called the Vigilis Belt. Given that the rate of impacts had picked up significantly over the past few days, Curtis assumed they'd already entered it. Just had to hope somebody found them before the Ishimura slammed into one of the larger bodies and met the fate of a bird flying into a moving car's windshield.

It'll happen, Curtis told himself, holding Nicole's hand. Soon.

…

As Curtis was impressed with the growth she'd undergone, Nicole remained excited about how much her boyfriend developed over the past month. He began as a dour, listless, world-weary man without purpose, wanting to survive because he feared death. Now he was the most thoughtful and introspective person she knew. She didn't think that meant he could predict the future.

The moment he wished for something to happen, she was slammed into a wall, face meeting steel under the force of massive speed. Fast enough that she'd be a fine mist if not for the acceleration dampeners every spaceship had installed. It still hurt. Oh, not her – being dead dulled any pain she personally experienced. Not so for Curtis, who impacted at the same moment. Stinging pain pulsed through their shared nervous system, which she felt just as strongly as him, and the wind got knocked from his lungs.

They screamed as acceleration pinned them against the bulkhead, nearly ripping them apart with the g-forces it produced. They were too shocked to even say goodbye. Luckily, they didn't have to. The pressure subsided as their speed decreased over the next few seconds, letting them slowly slide down from the wall. Nicole felt a slime trail being left behind by her thin mucus-y sheen, reminding her of a snail crawling down a log. Her eyes returned to their normal shape after being squished flat, allowing her to see what had been wrought.

All their days of hard work had been capsized in less than a second. Their cot, electronics, stockpiled food and Curtis' RIG and Line Gun fell around them; it rained random stuff from the walls! Curtis collapsed onto the overturned mattress, happy that nothing seemed to have broken in the chaos. Their belongings included canned food and a bedframe, which were difficult to damage, and his RIG had stood up to so much abuse that this sort of thing didn't put a scratch on it. However, they came close to injury or death, she realized. If the gravity had been a little stronger or a large piece of furniture fell the wrong way, one or both could have been pulp. But that didn't occur, which led her to ask something.

What just happened?! she thought, absorbing the war zone around them. It was more of a rhetorical question, for she thought the answer plain enough. Must have been a particularly devastating asteroid strike. But then Curtis turned his attention to the same question and immediately shot that hypothesis down.

No way, he countered, standing up and brushing himself off. Whatever happened propelled us to a fraction of the speed of light. That's the only way to overwhelm the acceleration dampeners that badly, and asteroids rarely travel that fast. Even if we did get hit by a fluke, it should have either had enough kinetic energy to kill us outright or punched through quick enough to not give the Ishimura so much speed. The gears in his head turned as he paced around the ruined room, putting his years of experience with asteroids to work. He may not have had the mind of an astrophysicist, but first-hand knowledge could be just as good. Kicked a piece of scrap metal out of the way while the ceiling creaked.

So, you don't think we were hit by anything? Nicole asked, putting her own head to work. Her boyfriend was the expert here, but she pondered his theory to see if she could bring new insights to the table.

No. I believe something pulled us without physical contact. The notion made her flinch. If he was correct, that almost certainly meant someone had found them, pulling them in with gravity tethers or a powerful electromagnet or the like. The only way nature could have accelerated them so quickly without touch was if they passed through the event horizon of a black hole and circled the drain of a cosmic devourer. If that happened, they were already done for. Curtis paused dead in his tracks. What's that you just thought?

That we'll die very soon, she repeated sadly. I hope that isn't –

No, no, before that, he interrupted, mind kicking into overdrive as he considered terminologies familiar to him that she was only loosely acquainted with.

That we might have passed an event horizon. The region around a black hole where spacetime is so depressed that even light can't escape. The only way out of there is entering shockspace. His eyes widened, various pieces of the puzzle snapping into place in his head. She didn't even realize she'd handed them to him.

I think I know what happened! He suited up in his RIG as quickly as he could while relaying his conjecture to her.

It was probably a shockring collapse, he said. Nicole at least knew what those were. Not every small starship was blessed with a shockpoint drive. The CEC had enough money to outfit all their shuttles with them, but it was by no means common, and intrastellar vessels lacked the space to be retrofitted with them, so the usual fix was to attach a ring-shaped engine on the bow of the craft which enabled travel through shockspace. Bulkier and less efficient than a standard singularity core, but the slightly cheaper cost offset it. That was their intended use, anyway.

However, they had another purpose well-known in his field. With a few minor tweaks, they could warp space enough to create powerful singularities for a split second. That was enough to compress small asteroids or comets into mineral orbs, like how systems aboard the Ishimura condensed matter. Just sloppier, and with a risk of collateral, which they almost became.

Still, they were lucky. Curtis figured they must have been on the very edge of the event horizon. Otherwise, acceleration dampeners or not, they would've been mangled. Maybe not crushed into little blocks of carbon, since the Ishimura was larger than the asteroids shockrings were meant to process, but enough to kill them. Falling down a hole in the fabric of space did that to you. Scanners might have missed them if they were that far away, since the Ishimura didn't emit any signals or forms of radiation. Probably unintentional; no way Magpies would let a chance for salvage be destroyed.

And it must have been Magpies, he assured her as he finished donning his RIG. I was one for a long time, and nobody else in the galaxy uses shockrings so irresponsibly. Yeah, she believed it. Wasn't sure what to think, but Curtis' heart thumped in his chest, and his spirit soared. Better than being located by EarthGov. They doubtlessly prowled the system, too. Now let's go.

Go where? she asked, though Curtis was already out the door, sucking all the air out of their sealed paradise. Go where? she repeated, for her boyfriend didn't hear her in his headstrong singlemindedness. The words made him pause, and his back tensed up, something she could perceive even through the thick navy padding that concealed him.

I… don't know. Nicole sighed, the last bit of oxygen being pulled from her lungs and into the vacuum as she did so. Not that Curtis' enthusiasm frustrated her. It was welcome, for this was the first scrap of hope she'd dared to embrace for a long time.

However, locating anyone would be easier said than done. All the Ishimura's communication systems had been irreparably wrecked, and his RIG was half-dead after the power system had gone unmaintained for so long, so the range on its comms would be short. This prototype suit was powered by a fusion core that he couldn't find any backups for. He returned to the Bridge Security Room to search for one and came up emptyhanded, so the spares had likely been lost. Lost. That word could be used for so many things of late. Possessions, friends, lives had all been lost. Suddenly, the Ishimura had been found. They didn't know how to feel about that. Excited? Or afraid?

As they set out in search of answers and rescue, an ominous curtain hung in the back of her mind.

…

Curtis stomped along through the shin-deep morass of alien goo. It took many forms during his travels. In colder areas, it long since froze into pack ice. In warmer climes that maintained a shroud of heat through failing life support or good insulation, it remained a shallow sea to slosh through. Places which lacked gravity molded these forms of matter into snowballs or globules of liquid death. Regardless of the clime, his thoughts and focus remained the same.

They needed to escape. Obvious, but it played over and over. It had been so long since he'd seen a living person… it'd be a nice change of pace. But they may not be nice, Nicole reminded him as they reached another door. This one was fortunately unlocked; maybe half the doors on the ship didn't work because of quarantine caused by the Necromorph sludge. The rest needed to be "opened" with his Line Gun. No more monsters to fight, but it came in handy clearing debris. Made him happy to use it productively rather than to kill things.

That's true; hopefully they'll be reasonable. Then again, would he be open to pleasant conversation if he encountered a man and a "monster" on some godforsaken ghost ship? Logic said no, so they needed to handle this tactfully. This chamber had some air left in it, which the storage tanks on his RIG happily lapped up. They're outside the Command Center, I hope. That's why they headed for the Bridge, which was difficult to get to with its distance and the tram long dead. Only ways around now were their feet and the air when gravity (or lack thereof) permitted. Seemed like the logical place for new arrivals to park if they wanted to coordinate and download information from the Ishimura's systems to find out what happened.

Not that they'd find anything worthwhile. The less information survived to be found, the better, so they took the time to delete everything from the ship's files. That's what Curtis called it when he and Nicole spent a whole day taking sledgehammers to every terminal in the Computer Core and the rest of the Transnet banks. Hey, they weren't hackers, and it's not like they planned on using the machines for anything else! Kendra claimed to have done away with that information, and perhaps she did, but he had no reason to believe the Oracle after her betrayal. Better safe than sorry, and it was kind of fun to spend several hours wrecking things.

The final copy of the data was on a hard drive in Curtis' pocket after transferring it from Kendra's RIG. Perhaps they could make use of it for good one day…

That actually was enjoyable, Nicole told him. Being the bull in the china shop made for a nice change of pace. True. He still preferred Z-Ball, but the court had been wrecked beyond repair, so they made do.

Still, the two were nearly there! After half an hour of travel, they strode through the belly of the Bridge: an area better known as the brig. His eyes wandered across the hallway of cast-iron prison doors set into the bulkheads. Stays ranged from a day for minor infractions to the whole mission for felonies. Not very pleasant… he'd once stayed in the Magpie equivalent for a week on account of missing his shift. Time was tough to get a handle on in space.

He shuddered at claw marks marring the edges of several doors. The poor saps here had even less comfort than everyone else. Alone and afraid, sardines in a can. That's how they died. The only human contact one would have in this solitary confinement is seeing the hands of whoever slid meals through the slot a couple times per day. Planet crackers were wholly self-sufficient, so the authorities only intervened to pick up particularly vile criminals like murderers, rapists, etc. Those weren't common from what he'd heard. Sure, they made for exciting spacer tales, but the CEC did extensive background checks to ensure none of its hires were psychos. That was also surely how they knew he was interested enough in Unitology to hire him for this job.

Nicole suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, telling him to do the same. I… smell something. Raising her head, she gave the air a tentative sniff with a nose as strong as a wolf's. Thanks to their Link, those same senses belonged to him. Curtis didn't pick much out at first beyond the eternal stench of liquid protein. Then, slowly, he noticed the same subtle scents she did. A bit of cologne. Sweat. Canned rations. It was the smell of a person.

Curtis' knees shook as they looked at each other. The salvation they hoped for finally came. Now they just had to very nicely ask if they could leave. Uh, you go first, his girlfriend told him. Right. Probably a good idea. He led the way, butterflies in his stomach. The nightmare nearly ended. Another one awaited, of course; civilization was hardly a paradise, especially when he had to keep Nicole hidden for the rest of her life. One step at a time, though.

The scent got stronger as they strode down the hall, confirming that it was a person, probably a man. And he was still present. Must have poked around in a cell for anything valuable. Hey, Magpies weren't pirates or raiders. The guy hopefully wouldn't start shooting upon being startled. Keep your cool, Curtis. Keep your cool. He glanced through the food slots of a few different doors, seeing nothing within but ooze. That brought them to the last door on the left, immediately before the brig transitioned into more traditional portions of the Bridge.

Nicole took a step back while Curtis inhaled deeply, trying to push all his concerns into his feet, which turned to clay. This would be his only chance to come across like a normal person. He didn't think he was crazy, but not having interacted with another living person in a month might have made him rusty at fraternization! You can do this, Nicole assured him. You're better than making friends than you think. Got me to be your friend twice. That was true. Not anyone could have smooth-talked somebody trying to rip their face off. Warmth flowed from her to him: a distillation of her support and love for him. Topped off with a smile, he suddenly felt like he could take on the world. Just talking to somebody would be a piece of cake!

He slid the hatch open to peer inside, confused when he did so. Aside from the human, nothing of value remained in the chamber. The guy sat slumped against the back wall, looking almost like… a prisoner. Had the Magpies stuck one of their own in here? Curtis rapped on the door with a metal gauntlet, making the guy's head snap up.

"Who's there?" he said, voice hoarse. "Julia? Okeke? Schneider? You decide to wise up and let me out early?" Hmm. Sounded like there had been some sort of altercation and the loser got shoved in here for a little while. He'd heard of that happening before. "For what it's worth, I am sorry about arguing with Li. I was out of line, but you have to understand how blasphemous her suggestion was." OK, this guy was a Unitologist, as well.

Something uneasy prickled in Curtis' head. Between the man's voice, religion and what little of his face he could see shrouded in shadow, he seemed oddly familiar. Couldn't place his finger on what, though. Not until he caught a glimpse of several bags under the man's eyes. Never slept well. Much like a certain hard-ass Magpie leader he used to know.

Captain Malyech?! he exclaimed. Nicole's mind recoiled, as well, for he'd told her all his mining tales. At the end of history, the only thing they had time for were stories. Curtis couldn't quite believe his eyes, but he knew he had to. The Marker's hallucinations were long gone. Unless this man was a lookalike, Curtis already knew the truth. Silence hung in the air as he awaited recognition.

"Seriously, who's there?" Only then did Curtis realized he hadn't said anything. He'd grown so accustomed to being part of a hive mind of two that he reacted as if Malyech shared that connection.

Great job trying to not seem crazy, Curtis. "Captain Malyech?!" he repeated aloud, equally shocked by the words leaving his own mouth. It had been a month since he last spoke, he realized. The voice he vaguely recognized as his own nevertheless sounded parched, dry and foreign.

"Who are you? I don't know if I recognize your voice." Malyech leaned forward, anxious to see which of his crewmates came to rescue him. Seemed everyone needed a savior today.

"You once knew a pilot who flew a little too close to a shockring collapse and ended up as a cubic millimeter of carbon inside an ore ball the size of a fruit basket. Almost made that happen to me." His face went pale after a second, putting all the pieces together. Seemed he hadn't forgotten one of the first things he'd ever said to him, either. The anecdote wasn't easy to forget.

"By the Marker! Curtis Mason?!" He shot up, rubbing his eyes while peering through the gap in the door to meet his gaze. "Tell me you're here and that this isn't some insane dream."

"It's really me, Malyech. I'm here." Curtis could still hardly believe he'd found someone after all this time, let alone a person he knew! Small universe. He stuck a hand through the slot to confirm his corporeality, and Malyech gladly shook it. "Look, I have a friend with me. Maybe you're in there for a good reason, but we'll try to get the door open." The prospect of seeing somebody again almost made him pass out. Only question was how to do that. Hmm. They didn't have the key, obviously. Blowing open the door with a mine seemed a profoundly bad idea with Malyech not having enough space to back up.

They'd have to do it the old-fashioned way… well, it'd mostly be Nicole. His RIG was less physically powerful than before with the power source half-dead, and Nicole's pointier biology was just better at tearing stuff up. Therefore, she got to work hacking away at the lock, though it could still take a few minutes to break through.

"How did you get here?" Malyech asked, unperturbed by the clanging grind. Probably thought it was a chainsaw. Wouldn't he be surprised when he found out the truth! Still, he knew the man. May have been a Unitologist, but he was hardly a fanatic. Bit of a dick, but a good guy when it counted. "Are you with a crew of Magpies that we didn't notice arrived first?"

"No, actually," Curtis admitted. "I was part of the Ishimura's crew for the Aegis VII planet crack." Now, he expected the captain to be surprised, but that didn't cover half the expression on his face. Almost one of terror, and he took a step back. What was the CEC's cover story to evoke so much fear? They must have put out some sort of statement by that point. A planet cracker disappearing couldn't remain a secret for long.

"Really, Mason? You and your friend survived here all this time? But the CEC said the Ishimura – "

Malyech went quiet as a high-pitched whine split the air, burrowing into all their heads. Curtis doubled over in pain at the shriek. At first thinking it another failing piece of technology giving its death rattle, he quickly realized that it came not from without, but from within. Their own minds attacked themselves. Dropping to his knees, the miner's vision sloshed and swirled. How was this possible?! Only the Red Marker could do this, and it was gone! They killed it!

Maybe not! Nicole screamed in pain and horror. The pressure ebbed, a valve loosening in his brain before the opening salvo of insanity. The sea around him boiled, liquid death suddenly superheated by this huge influx of energy. Energy that, as before, molded DNA to its whims. And dead or not, this organic soup swam with cells, which now reassembled before their eyes into grasping hands and pseudopods.

Curtis wanted it to be a nightmare. They'd earned peace! How could this happen again?!

MY BROTHER… HAS RETURNED. WEAKENED, YET NOT FULLY DESTROYED.

The Black Marker was just as shocked as him and Nicole. Even a "god" could be blindsided. That didn't make him feel any better. Especially not when he looked back into the jail cell. Malyech screamed, tentacles beginning to rip him limb from limb. "No!" Curtis yelled, banging against the door. "You can't! It's not fair! We already won!"

Nicole grabbed him by the arm, yanking him away from the carnage before more of the goo reanimated. He knew she was right to do so, for they couldn't have gotten Malyech out in time, but that hardly quieted the screaming. I'm sorry, he thought into the void. By this point, they both sprinted down the hall, desperate to save whomever they could. At least three others were here with the names he rattled off. Probably more! They'd gone from needing help to being the help. His thoughts centered not on salvation, though, but retribution, burning coal in his gut.

A fragment of the Marker survived. Whether Mercer chiseled it off to act as a failsafe or it survived the impact of a continent and was blasted back up to the Ishimura by Aegis VII exploding, he couldn't guess. But it had been there with them, waiting for an opportunity to strike. The Magpies were that chance. Well, that gave them a purpose again. Where is it? he asked his patron, smoke practically billowing from his ears. They'd be sure to finish the job. The Black Marker remained silent for an uncomfortably long time before answering.

HE IS ALREADY GONE. TAKEN BY ONE OF THEM.

It took everything Curtis had not to shriek or cry, and Nicole nearly stumbled over a forming limb in shock. Damn it! His body tore itself apart from within. The Marker proved itself to be a coward. Fearful that if it activated again, they'd destroy it for good. So it waited for someone to spirit it away. Now it was clear of consequences and could attack them again just for the Hell of it. It already escaped. It won. This was a final "fuck you" on the way out the door. He raged as it laughed in the back of his mind.

But he couldn't let it get to him. During his exile, he'd spent a long time in contemplation of his former life. He was quick to anger, even with Nicole by his side. All his life, he'd been given to frustration. He decided to try and change. What was the point in saving the universe if he didn't at least attempt to become a better person along the way? Therefore, this disaster didn't anger him as much as it once would have. Maybe he'd scream about it once they tried to save people.

The blaring quarantine alarms stopped once they entered a vacuum; he was never so happy to not have air around him. A few malformed Necromorphs sprang out of the ice, all quickly dispatched in their crippled state. Less biomatter here made it easier, since most sublimated into space over the previous weeks. More generally, the Marker seemed to have difficulty constructing complex forms out of the more homogenized Corruption. It needed to repurpose corpses for that, which was why the surplus got used for terrain and simple, stationary grasping forms. Those could still be deadly for the unprepared, as proved by poor Malyech.

At last, they made it to the Main Atrium, long since depressurized by dozens of asteroid strikes. Glass shards clung to the metal ribs rimming the room, exposing them to the great emptiness. The stars burned brighter than he'd ever seen them, undimmed by the far away bloody Aegis suns. Perhaps one of them was distant Sol. It gave him a bit of comfort to imagine the light of home shining on its children in one of their darkest hours. Curtis gasped for breath, not realizing how out-of-shape a month without exertion left him.

As it was, they found only footprints in the quickly animating slime, along with a fresh body being held down by a tentacle or two, which he dispatched with generous helpings of plasma. They're fresh, Nicole said of the prints. Would have leaned down to sniff them if there was any air. See if you can contact anyone with your RIG-Link. Good idea. The range was limited with his suit running out of power, but anybody still alive was sure to be in the immediate area.

Come on, come on. He prayed to the universe for the message to reach somebody. Just one person. Let me save one, he offered. His words weren't for the Black Marker, for it made clear it wasn't divine. He wanted to believe a higher power was on their side. Perhaps one was, for somebody out there picked up the audio log.

"Hello? Li, please tell me that's you!" the voice yelled over incremental gunfire.

"I'm afraid not," Curtis answered. Still needed to get used to his own voice again. "Sorry."

A few more bullets kept him on edge, but they died down quickly enough. "Damn it," the man muttered before spitting, "Who the Hell are you? I don't recognize your RIG number."

He glanced at Nicole, who encouraged him to continue. This person wasn't their enemy, yet he found it difficult to speak again. Almost everyone he spent time with on the Ishimura died, and several betrayed him on top of that. Still, the guy would be in even more trouble on his own, so Curtis reluctantly reached out.

"My name is Curtis. I've been living on this ship for the past month, the last survivor of the Aegis VII expedition. I can explain everything if you tell me where you are." There was silence for a longer span than he would have liked before the man gave him directions. Just a few rooms away. Then he terminated the message, which gave Curtis room to breathe. That could have gone worse, he thought while opening the first door, back in a room with air after its current atmosphere made its way into oblivion. Could also have gone better, but he'd take what he got.

Nicole concurred. Both were terrified that the Marker escaped, but there may still have been a way to turn this around. They wouldn't know until they found the mystery voice and whatever it brought to the table. Didn't have to wait long. Curtis opened the final door less than a minute later, greeted by the barrel of a Divet an inch from his face. Rolled his eyes. Should have seen that coming. Nicole, still in shadows, would have intervened if he hadn't stopped her. This RIG's strong enough to take a few bullets, and I don't blame the guy for being suspicious.

The Marker hadn't been active long enough to drive him mad, so this understandable aggression was all him. Speaking of which, he began to size the guy up as he stepped inside.

He was young, looking to be in his mid-20s. Not much older than Curtis when he began his mining career. Close-cropped hair, and he wore a Standard Mining RIG. Pretty average-looking man with no standout characteristics. More notable were misshapen zombies riddled with bullets behind him, still writhing slightly. Upon inspecting him, the guy slowly lowered the gun.

"Hmm. You're not military, that's for sure. Good enough."

"Wait, the military's coming?" Curtis asked. They needed to leave sooner than he thought!

"Already here. On the Flight Deck," the man amended, pulling up audio feed that seemed to be live. Screaming. Roaring. He cut it off as quickly as it began. "They believed an entire Marker was onboard. I encouraged that… and said it was in the area thickest with these monsters, from what I could tell." Ah, so he sent the soldiers to their deaths. Part of him wanted to be angry about the barbarism, but Curtis might have done the same if it meant getting out alive. Besides, he'd already helped get an entire crew of the Valor slaughtered, albeit by accident. "My name's Schneider, by the way. You've earned a last name, but not a first."

"Then I'm Mason," he replied, able to play that game. "And there's one other person with me."

Schneider raised a brow. "I thought you said you were the only survivor on this wreck."

"Technically, I'm not alive anymore." Nicole popped into the doorway, and Schneider very nearly pissed himself. "Boo." The expression of sheer terror on his face was worth it; maybe it'd bring the guy down a notch. He screamed and went for his gun. Curtis was about to stop it, but Nicole again stayed his hand. First, stopping him won't get him to trust us. Second, I deserve this for scaring him. If she insisted.

The bullets of an average pistol, designed for penetration instead of dismemberment, did nothing to her as they impacted. Pulse Rifles and other military-grade equipment proved semi-useful against Necromorphs because of their higher power and rate of fire, but a second-rate civilian handgun only proved a threat to these half-baked ones. Through their Link, Curtis felt them as little more than pinpricks or insect bites. A couple dug into her torso and one ricocheted off her chitinous head. The biggest damage came from the muzzle flash and angry pops.

After a few seconds, Schneider ran out of bullets, so all that assaulted her were angry clicks of the trigger. "Uh, sorry for startling you. That was the last thing you needed." The "monster" casually talking to him inspired him to again put the gun away.

"First, fuck you. Second, what the fuck are you?!"

"One of those." Nicole pointed at the mounds of misshapen meat Schneider pumped full of lead. "I can't fully explain right now, but I will later if you're interested. My name's Brennan, though, if we're going by our cognomens." He looked between them for a second, very confused, before throwing up his hands.

"All right. Fine. Whatever," he huffed, walking down the hall while they tailed him. "You and your pet zombie want to join me, that's OK. I'm not about to let EarthGov get its grubby hands on anyone." Seemed like kind of an ass, but he didn't try to kill them, and he understood being defensive and angry when scared better than anyone.

"Where are you going?" Curtis asked, for Schneider's determination to travel was hardly blunted by his new companions.

"The Hunter's Moon," he replied. "That's… my ship now that Captain Li is out of the picture. I was the XO. Now I'm the CO! Or maybe not, since I'm the only person left at all. Captain of one." Underpinning Schneider's rage was an ocean of sorrow.

"I'm sorry. We know what it's like to lose people." He almost reached out to put a hand on the man's shoulder, but he decided against it. Might have been perceived as patronizing.

"I can imagine…" Schneider sighed. "Anyway, we docked in a small hangar not far from here. That's where I'm heading."

"Straight on?" Curtis thought it unwise to boldly traipse into the unknown with the ship reanimating on them. "If it's close, we could walk across the hull. Shouldn't be much biomass up there." His RIG looked spaceworthy.

"I think we'll be fine," Schneider countered as they approached another door. "What's the worst that could…" He trailed off as the threshold opened, revealing an entire chamber of monsters clawing their way from muck. A cavalcade of screams and squelches reached them as they backed away and let the door close. "On second thought, let's find an airlock."

On their way, Curtis asked Schneider about all that happened with EarthGov and the CEC in the past month, as well as how the Magpies found them in the first place. Also, he realized he hadn't confided that he used to be an illegal miner in the past, along with working with Malyech, so he divulged all this. In turn, Schneider spilled the beans about everything, which he and Nicole listened to with rapt attention while gunning down the occasional Necromorph.

The Flock arrived in Aegis a little more than a week ago. A week prior to that (two weeks ago, so about the time Aegis VII exploded), the CEC broke the news that the Ishimura had been destroyed… in a terrorist attack. A nameless group of political dissidents formed a sleeper cell within the crew, led by a woman named Isabel Cho, who was the only survivor of the whole affair. It took three days to go from trial to publicly televised execution. That sort of bread and circuses affair wasn't uncommon for enemies of the state, but this one was obviously BS; the government required a scapegoat.

Still, there had been heaps of doctored footage as "evidence" against her. Gunning down the crew, dropping the tectonic load on the planet, etc. All BS, of course, though nobody else knew that. Pretty hard to fathom the truth. CGI and deepfakes had long ago been perfected, but it disquieted him that it would be used like this. Made him wonder if EarthGov regularly pinned the blame on someone innocent. Well, maybe not innocent in general, but not guilty of the particular crime they were being accused of.

From there, they trawled the system for the debris of Aegis VII. Tragedy became opportunity. If there wasn't going to be a planet crack, someone still needed to take advantage of that now easily accessed mineral-rich ore, right? A few crews of Magpies came together to do just that, and they'd spent time in the Vigilis Belt, using their shockring to harvest what they could while avoiding EarthGov patrols, who'd promptly arrest them for trespassing in a quarantined system (not to mention for the other numerous crimes their groups may or may not have committed). Their holds had nearly been filled, and they looked forward to leaving with a pretty penny.

Until about an hour ago, when the shockring implosion meant for a small grouping of asteroids yanked the Ishimura toward them, demolishing their Nest and another ship in one fell swoop, setting them back nearly a million credits. Therefore, their only option was to try and salvage the derelict vessel to recoup their sudden losses.

Strange energy readings led them to a shard of rock in the hull, which the Unitologists among them recognized as a piece of a Marker. Some people wanted to sell it for billions, which pissed off Malyech something fierce and got him thrown in the brig. At which point Copland, his second-in-command, stole it, hijacked one of the two remaining ships and ran off to EarthGov for the score of a career. That was bad enough. The floor suddenly coming to life and murdering all his friends was far worse. Then Curtis and Nicole barged in, which got them to the present. The trio reached an airlock as Schneider finished his tale.

"And I expect you to tell me what happened to you when we get to the ship," he said, which made Nicole roll her eyes. The guy tried too hard, but they didn't mind. He let them come along, after all. With that, he turned to the door before shooting a glance back. "Can – can you survive in a vacuum?" he asked Nicole, at which she nodded. "All right, then."

The airlock spun open, and Curtis found himself striding into the void for, he hoped, the final time. "Looks like the RIG-Link is working," he said to Schneider over the comms; his suit had enough in the tank left for this one spacewalk and maybe a little more.

"On my end, too," Schneider said. Their grav-boots kicked in as they strode across the metal hellscape. He thought it was bad before, but things got immeasurably worse during the month they'd been cooped up inside. The Ishimura had been pockmarked with asteroid impacts before, but now the holes were a full-blown infection, rotting the ship from the outside in. The wounds ranged from tiny pinholes to a meter or more across, but most didn't penetrate more than a few floors down. Gave them some difficulty finding walkways, but they managed, approaching the entrance to the ship with minutes of air to spare.

"OK, shuttle bay's ahead. Not far now," muttered Schneider. "I swear, if we get out of here, I'm blowing the whole goddamn whistle on all of this." Curtis respected that drive, even as he wondered who would listen. Anything he posted on the Transnet would immediately be taken down by the censors.

The airlock to their destination appeared over a small rise, framed against the utter blackness of deep space. So close! Then the door whirled open of its own accord, making both pause. At first, Curtis thought this was some proximity sensor he'd never encountered before. That notion was quashed when two figures strode out to greet them. Curtis would have jumped in excitement if not for the risk of floating away! Some of Schneider's partners survived!

On the other hand, he sensed Nicole's alarm, and she ducked behind a piece of debris until her presence could be explained to them. "I'm so glad some of your friends made it," Curtis said to Schneider, but the other man stood stiff.

"They're not my friends," he replied, which made Curtis glare daggers. The guy may not have been nice, but that was the douchiest thing he could have said! Schneider must have sensed his faux pas, for he clarified, "I meant I don't know who they are. I don't recognize their RIGs." Oh. Well, they had to be people who he came with. Right?

"You! Hold it right there!" one barked over comms when they were 30 or 40 feet away, the duo synchronously pulling out weapons… at least, Curtis thought they were weapons. Like no guns he'd ever seen! Regardless, they were hostile. Marines who escaped the slaughter Schneider led them into, perhaps?

The two stood there, unable to move with the threat of death staring them in the face. Not like it hadn't a thousand times before. Still, it'd take an act of God to get them out of this. If only…

The ground shook, making Curtis regret his turn of phrase. Thick tendrils snaked out of nearby craters, silently pulsating in the void. The two groups stared at each other a long moment. Then the appendages lashed out to attack the others, for they were closer targets. The two wordlessly sprinted across the hull before diving into the nearest big hole while their foes were distracted! Nicole joined them, and just in time.

Beams of light streaked over their heads the second they cleared metal. Lasers. Very unusual to use those in guns or even mining equipment, which again made Curtis wonder who these people were. Not enough to slow him running through the nearest door, anyway, which thankfully led somewhere with air, topping off his supply. His next RIG needed to be something with better oxygen capacity. They existed, it's just that this wasn't optimized for EVA.

"Who were they?" Nicole asked, able to speak aloud in the atmosphere again.

"Like I told your friend, I've got no clue," he replied, shaking his head. "They have to be from the government, right? Then again, I don't see how they could have gotten here so quickly, even if they survived the ambush." That was true; couldn't possibly have arrived fast enough.

A knot tightened in Curtis' gut. Something was wrong. He nearly put his hand to his face upon thinking that, for everything suddenly fell apart, but this in particular. As they neared their exit, he vowed to remain on guard.

…

Nicole wasn't having a good time. First, it turned out that a fragment of the Marker survived. Then she learned that it escaped, and they had precious little time to catch up with it. After that, Curtis' old friend perished before his eyes, rendering them nearly the sole survivors yet again. They were lucky in being able to help even one person. How much longer could that last? She supposed they'd find out soon enough. Until then, worrying got them nowhere, an attitude she'd adopted more since their long span of isolation. It gave her time to discover herself, who she truly was now. Figuring out how to deactivate her Link with Curtis contributed greatly to that, for it gave her a place to be her for the first time since she was like this…

If she had ever been alone at all, of course. A shudder ran up her back solely based on muscle memory, though her fear was very real. But am I? She remembered being Nicole, yet were these recollections her own, or did she merely inherit them? Had she really returned from death, or was she a facsimile, a phantom that only believed itself to be Nicole while puppeteering what remained of her body? Even the Marker didn't know – as its "brother" said, it was created to know the flesh, not the soul. Existential questions were not its domain.

A hand fell upon her shoulder amid her ennui. She sensed that Curtis wanted to give her more, but this really wasn't the best time to explain their relationship to Schneider.

You are real, he told her, his mind caressing her as much as his fingers. Real! And the woman I love. She appreciated his opinion, but the truth was that only she could find the answer. She'd have to think about it later. Funny. They just had a whole month to plot and ponder, and most of that had been spent watching vids. Some philosophizing, yet not enough to tackle this. Knew what she'd be doing once they got out. Speaking of which, they were close.

"It's just around the corner here," Schneider said to them at the end of a certain hallway. Had to hand it to him – he knew how to keep himself alive. A useful skill… though she doubted that brought him comfort when he'd just lost everything.

They rounded the bend, Nicole very nearly walking into the barrel of a… laser weapon. Not quite a gun. No, this was far deadlier to her, since it could shear off a limb on contact. No time to warn Curtis, for all of them met the same fate at the same time, staring down their pursuers, now sans the helmets.

Not sure what she expected. Nicole had no idea who these people were, yet it almost seemed like she should for some reason. The only feature that stood out was that one of the two bore a strong resemblance to some famous historical politician from the North Asian Sector. She didn't recall all the specifics, but she got the vague notion he might've been involved with the Kara Sea Hostage Crisis or some other famous historical event from the 21st Century. That was obviously mere coincidence, though. People could look like others.

"Mr. Schneider. Mr. Mason. Dr. Brennan. No sudden moves, please," the politician-looking one said. That, however, put her on edge. Nearly made her jump in the air, but as they said, that'd result in her arms and legs falling off. Same for her boyfriend, though his death would come from being cooked alive in his RIG.

"How do you know who we are?" she growled; their foes didn't flinch. Either she'd gone soft over the past month or these two were hard nuts to crack.

"The same way we got here before you: we did our homework," replied the other man. "In your case, that means studying the files another member of our department sent before her untimely demise." It took a moment for it to dawn on her and Curtis' shared consciousness. Kendra. So she managed to get a brief transmission out to them, after all.

"You're Oracles!" Curtis exclaimed. The shadowy tendril of EarthGov finally wrapped around their neck. A force even the Black Marker reckoned with came for them. Looked like Defense Secretary Chang made good on that threat she and Curtis discovered back on the USM Valor. Promised to get the best agents involved, and now they were here. The three of them staring down reapers. In response, one of them pulled a miniature cobalt-colored mask from a pouch. It was the same type Curtis had in his own pocket.

"Correct. More active ones. Going undercover denied Operative Daniels an opportunity to utilize the full benefits of her training. We are unstrained by such parameters." One cocked his laser weapon to the side. Looked like Hammond was right about them having advanced technology, for she knew laser weaponry to be uncommon. For killing Necromorphs, though… such implements would have been perfect. Further established EarthGov had prepared for such a scenario or war for a long time. "However, I am… unimpressed with your efforts."

Oh, way to add insult to injury, Curtis thought, though attempts at humor couldn't hide fear. It'd been too long since they'd been in genuine danger. Of course, Isaac had been the one to kill Kendra in an ambush, but they didn't know that. Nor did they need to, for it gave them at least a little bit of leverage. For his part, Schneider was rightfully very confused.

"I don't get it," Curtis said. He stalled, trying to devise a plan with whatever time they had. The Oracles didn't want them dead for whatever reason. Otherwise they'd have immediately been shot. Had to exploit that. Plus, the two had many questions for their quarry. A month without answers made him ravenous for them. "You seem like you're with the government, but you also have Unitologist beliefs. We had an encounter with, I think, another of your agents called Eckhardt, who was a Unitologist. Why?" Nicole had wondered the same. None of it fit together.

One of them grunted. "Just because we – some of us, anyway – acknowledge the borderline divinity of the Markers does not mean we agree with their plans. Their power is overwhelming, but it can be harnessed. Then it is we who shall be gods." That made them antitheists instead of mere atheists. Made her one as well, she supposed. They all knew what came and struggled against it. The difference was that what they thought would make humanity (or at least EarthGov) more powerful, she knew would destroy it. "As for Eckhardt, I believe he was tasked with capturing Lexine Murdoch. He was merely a pawn, not a full member of our order. Perhaps we would have recruited him had he shown promise."

That explained why he seemed so out-of-the-loop, especially thinking he was with Unitology. More of an honorary member, though one still important enough to possess the omnipresent mask.

She and Curtis still had so many more questions. What did they hope to glean from the Marker and the Necromorphs? What was the strange insectoid insignia that seemed to be part of both the Oracles and upper echelons of Unitologist iconography? How was all of this connected to Lexine, who Eckhardt tried to kidnap? But time was up. The agents no longer humored them. After all, they were the ones with the guns, and they now took control.

"But having a Marker, even part of one, is only a portion of what this goal requires. To get there, we need to know what you know. What you saw."

"You could have just asked," Curtis retorted.

"You don't possess the language to tell us." No, she supposed not. The true aspects of the Marker lived deep within the brains of those it touched. Deeper than words, reshaping the organ itself. Hence why Isaac… didn't get better after they beat the Marker (or thought they beat it). Of course, that must have made her and Curtis even more fascinating test subjects. Kendra already expounded on the potential combat applications of the Bond. Getting to dissect them would be an incredible prize.

A guttural roar echoed from somewhere down the hall, placing small frowns on their otherwise blank faces. "They're closing in. Regrouping," one said, which the other acknowledged. Indeed, tiny minds prodded at her own. Just like old times, sadly. Then both threw their gazes to her, seeming to stare straight into her soul. "We know you can feel them… as you can feel Mr. Mason." Of course. If Kendra reported anything, it would be that. "Fascinating, and potentially very useful to us, but it does not change what your kind is: an unfortunate side-effect. You aren't important."

Personal insults aside, she was slightly heartened that it sounded like they weren't trying to create an army of Necromorphs, merely using the Link itself. But maybe they had something else on the books to fulfill that role… Not that it made them any safer. The Marker would kill them all regardless what parts of its bounty they were after. Nicole tried to remain stoic as she and Curtis bandied ideas of escape between them, now feeling watched by these two who knew exactly what they did.

"Now, we will make this simple. Follow our commands exactly, and you will all get to live. For now. All of you are valuable… well, perhaps not Mr. Schneider."

She and Curtis reached the end of their rope. No ideas or deception leapt out at her. They dangled over the edge while their fingers slipped with each passing moment. This may have been the end.

Schneider cleared his throat, directing all eyes his way. Held a small electronic device that he must have fished out while the Oracles' attention was fixed elsewhere. Now one of them held the cards.

"While you all were babbling, I've been priming our shockring for another singularity. Maximum radius on the event horizon." His thumb trembled over a switch. Impossible for him to dodge something travelling at the speed of light, but it'd take a moment before killing him. "Do I need to explain what happens if I press this button?"

"Bullshit. You don't have the balls," one of the Oracles replied with only the slightest bit of hesitation. Other than that, it was a pure poker face. For their part, she and Curtis weren't sure what to make of this. Schneider didn't say whether their ring had been wrecked by the Ishimura on its first pass through; they were inclined to believe him.

"Really? My entire crew is dead. Our Nest is destroyed. I'm stuck with some crazy guy and his zombie friend!" OK, that made her cringe a little, but she chose to believe he only said that to sound more serious and hardcore than he really was. "And even if you bastards don't kill or vivisect me, I'll rot in jail for the rest of my life. I literally have nothing to lose."

A millimeter separated them from oblivion. The growls, both in her mind and in the air, drew closer. The ground subtly rumbled to portend the coming stampede. They had maybe two minutes, she guessed. Taken together, their would-be captors began to crack. The faintest glimmer of fear crossed their faces while one whispered something to the other. Neither of their eyes diverged for even a second now. They barely even blinked.

"All right, Mr. Schneider," they admitted, postures relaxing just a bit. "You have the upper hand. However, we are willing to strike a deal. Hand over the 'crazy guy and his zombie friend', and we will allow you to depart in good faith."

Nicole and Curtis' heads shot to each other in alarm. Terror raced in his temples. Schneider couldn't seriously consider this, could he? While this happened, the three arced around toward the exit door, laser guns still positioned a few feet away from their faces. Nicole began to crack, as well. The pressure got unbearable, fracturing the bulwark of her spirit. Old habits reasserted themselves. She wanted to spring forward and subdue these threats, yet Curtis kept her at bay.

"Want them, do you?" Schneider muttered, sounding genuinely conflicted as they approached the door. Slammed one hand on the panel to open it, then he backed through. Curtis and Nicole were sandwiched between another potential betrayer and people who wanted to dissect them for science. The officers inspected them as butchers eyed cuts of meat. The rumbling footfalls grew ever louder. Nicole wanted to scream!

"You don't even know the half of it." One of their arms was stuck halfway through the threshold so the door couldn't be closed on them. "Now hand them over."

Schneider seemed to do exactly that by threatening them with his pistol to get them to walk forward. Wait… Upset as the situation made her, it also gave her pause. The man already tried to kill her with the Divet before, so he knew it did nothing against her. Might not even be able to penetrate Curtis' RIG. Something happened, which made it her turn to encourage her partner to not act rashly.

"If you really did do your homework on me, then you'd know I've got no love for EarthGov," Schneider said as he inched them forward. "Wasn't always a Magpie; I was a legitimate small businessman before the CEC greenmailed my shareholders to their side. The government was completely fine with a hostile takeover, of course." The Oracles looked annoyed at him from criticizing the people they worked for to their faces. "Anything for one of their favorite companies, even if the Church of Unitology had a big stake in it." He sighed and shook his head. "What I'm trying to say is… fuck you." Ha!

He didn't need to lunge at the door, for he was already there thanks to pushing them up to the very edge. The laser hit him in the chest as his arm shot out to press a button, nearly blinding her with its brilliant red light. No knockback, for photons didn't have mass, but it was hot enough to boil through his armor in a second if the scorching heat on her face correlated with the beam's temperature. Fortunately, not even that long passed before his fingers brushed against a button on the frame (this was an older model where the hologram wasn't the only method of opening and closing it). Didn't understand what that would accomplish.

What she didn't count on was the door malfunctioning. Weren't supposed to if any solid object was in the frame. Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised, though. Like everyone said, the Ishimura was old and failing enough to be a deathtrap to begin with. Schneider must have been more confident in that than them. Add all the abuse it suffered over the last month and looking at a machine funny could get your arm chopped off.

And that's exactly what happened to the politician-looking Oracle. The gate snapped shut a few inches in front of her face, amputating his arm at the elbow, which fell to the floor, laser weapon still held by twitching fingers. All stood in shock as he screamed. About 15 seconds later, those screams turned to shrieks. These malformed Necromorphs may not have been much of a threat on their own, but a horde of them against two people, one suddenly missing an arm? They didn't even stick around to listen to the slaughter. Curtis scooped up the weapon, and off they dashed.

"If you're wondering, I wasn't actually considering handing you guys over!" Schneider shouted as the death shrieks were left far behind. "I may be a dick, but what I said about EarthGov was true; fuck them and their lackeys! I just had to seem like I was thinking about it to sell them." Fair enough! She wouldn't complain when he'd just saved their lives, even if he scared her to death… again.

Nicole's teeth rattled as they ran, but she didn't have time to commune with Curtis, for they already arrived in the docking bay. It really had been just ahead. It was also full of sound and fury. The biomass here continued to churn out tentacles and half-baked Necromorphs at an alarming rate, most of which went to trashing the ships… one of them, anyway. The older Magpie vessel had gotten arrived first, so it received all the love from the simpleminded creatures. The other sat on the opposite side of the chamber, and it must have been what the Oracles arrived in, for it was unlike any ship she'd ever seen: sleek and pointed with a few notches protruding from the sides. Schneider, however, only noticed the former in his frustration. Much like the Necromorphs, which dogpiled on it with abandon.

"Get off my ship, damn it!" he yelled, starting to blast away with the laser weapon, but there were just too many. "How the Hell are we supposed to get…" Curtis tapped him on the shoulder as he trailed off. "…out of here." He looked at them before shrugging. "I love the Hunter's Moon, but this one looks faster and isn't covered in zombies." If this didn't work out, they could still clear her "relatives" off his his ship. Hopefully. They raced over and lowered the hatch before scrambling inside. While stark and utilitarian, the interior didn't look completely foreign, so hopefully Schneider could fly it!

He leapt into the cockpit, designed for a single pilot instead of the usual two, fiddling with the controls. The system appeared to activate immediately without any input from either of the Oracles' RIGs. They must have been so confident in their victory that they left the keys in the ignition and didn't lock the door! "I've never seen a ship like this! Maybe it's an advanced EarthGov prototype," Schneider shouted while booting up the system.

Roars from outside implied the undead finally took notice of them and now headed their way. Curtis shivered in terror and hope, knowing the next few moments would either save or doom them. Gave him a subtle hug while Schneider worked, and he returned it. "Yeah, definitely a secret project! The features on this thing, especially the stealth systems, are unbelievable!"

"You can have it if you get us out of here!" Curtis exclaimed while the banging continued. "I'm not in the market for a spaceship, and I can barely fly one, anyway!" She didn't know where they'd go, but it'd be someplace they could settle down and not need an interstellar vessel for. His grip on her tightened as the racket heightened; they'd gotten all over the ship, a fact proven when what might've been a Leaper crawled onto the windshield and roared, making all of them jump. Even in its addled, half-shaped state, it was still able to hurl slurs at all of them internally… mostly her.

Betrayer. Liar. Monster. The common accusations were repeated ad nauseum, threatening to exhaust her from sheer force of boredom. This time, they lacked the same genuine anger and conviction on account of these Necromorphs being more facsimiles than anything. Hopefully this would be the last time she ever heard them.

"Come on, come on," Schneider repeated as he punched commands in one after another, fingers flying along the holographic interface almost faster than she could perceive! The hull rang like a gong. Her boyfriend looked around frantically to see if there was a way to assist, but there was nothing they could do except hope. "Almost there!"

The engines burst to life, and she felt many little minds being incinerated like Elizabeth so long ago. A pang of loss stung her and Curtis as they both wished the woman could be with them. But hopefully she's somewhere else. Somewhere better. Had to hope for that. It seemed tomorrow would be so bleak that believing in a Heaven was the only sane way forward for many people. After all, there was a Hell – they lived it.

"Got it! Hold on!" Turned out they didn't need to, for the acceleration dampeners on the vessel were quite strong. She didn't flinch as the spaceship rocketed through the sealant grid and into space faster than a speeding bullet.

Space. Well, they were in space the whole time, but "space" as in not inside the Ishimura. As in without Necromorphs, excepting her. As in… they were free. After a month spent floating in purgatory, they'd finally thrown off their chains. The realization flattened them. Knocked them to the floor, where they just sat. And thought. As much they could, for the stars passed them by in cold silence. The twinge of other minds was left far behind. All that remained were Curtis and the Black Marker somewhere in the distance (and she could tell the latter was happy they escaped unscathed). The rest was silence, though she'd long since gotten used to that.

What she didn't expect to fill both their souls was melancholy. Elation was tainted with the unknown. She gave up the only home this new body ever knew, and Curtis walked into a darker future. No idea what the road ahead was paved with, and that scared them almost as much as Necromorphs. Still, they didn't want to dampen victory with sad notions of future tribulations. Let them bask in winnings for a moment. The two held hands as the Ishimura and rocky debris field shrank into the void. Going… going… gone.

She and Curtis wanted to slump against the wall and rest, but Schneider had other plans before they shocked out to… well, she didn't know where. Finally had an oar, yet that meant little without a map. Motive power; nowhere to go.

"Attention military blockade," Schneider hailed over an outgoing vid-log to some woman in a posh chair aboard whatever vessel led the search of Aegis. She and Curtis walked over. Why not? The government already knew who they were, so being there wouldn't reveal anything. "This is… Hell, I don't even know what this ship is called. I'm one of the people you sent your creeps to collect. They failed, and I want to speak to whoever's in charge.

Wordlessly, the woman stood and walked offscreen, which left them in suspense. Perhaps a minute passed before another figure came into view, sitting in the same chair. They didn't quite know what they expected, but it wasn't someone they knew! Well, didn't know personally, but all recognized his face from the Transnet and news vids over the years. Even people not into politics knew who he was, for he had a memorable face.

Not many had Unitologist script tattooed in fluorescent ink above and below one of their eyes like a barcode.

"I am Defense Secretary David Chang," he said, brushing off the nape of his high-collared leather jacket (probably real cowhide, at that). In addition to being a major head of state, the overall eccentricity of his look made waves in the normally conservative government. As for him being present, it made complete sense he'd oversee such a grave threat to humanity personally. "And I know whom all of you are. Stefan Schneider. Curtis Mason. Nicole Brennan." All of them looked at each other, tense. At least they learned his first name. "I expected to speak with you all in person, but it seems the Oracles underestimated you. Again."

Yes, yes. He would know about that. As the commander of the military, Hammond speculated the organization answered to him in some capacity. Even if they weren't wholly focused on combat, it was still part of their wheelhouse. Regardless, Chang didn't seem too upset about them slipping through his fingers.

"You're pretty smug for a guy who lost," Curtis said, which made Nicole cringe. She lacked the heart to tell him that she didn't think he did. That was OK, though. Chang was happy to do it for her.

"Operation White Light may have failed, but no matter. We still got what we needed in the end." He reached into a pocket, pulling out a chunk of red stone, crossed with cracks and scorch marks and runes glowing bright blue. Curtis nearly fell over – would have if she didn't catch him. He'd been so excited about escaping that he forgot what also managed to get out. Now his mind nearly crumbled at the reminder. All their work had been in vain. Everything they struggled against and sacrificed. The deaths on the Ishimura would just be the start. "You all would have been helpful, to be sure, but this was the real prize. Not as good as a complete Marker, yet this single chunk is all we needed to start the process."

"Listen to me, Chang!" Curtis' voice tore from his throat like a dying animal. What happened in his head was worse. "If you study that Marker fragment, we're all going to die! You, me, the entire fucking human race! Throw it into the sun or your ship's fusion reactor! Please!" He cried inside, though he wanted to maintain enough composure externally to not burst into tears.

"You may be right," Chang replied with the casualness of someone whose greatest fear was forgetting to buy milk when he went shopping. "From what we've seen, this plague is incredibly virulent and tenacious." Turned his head toward her. "No offense."

"None taken," she sneered back.

"But the Marker is also the future, wrapped up and given to us on a silver platter," the man continued. "It's a poisoned meal, to be sure, but we'll survive consuming it if we tough the venom. If we don't eat it, we'll starve." That almost made sense in a twisted way. Humanity had always taken, and Kendra made it sound like EarthGov planned to increase that taking exponentially over the coming centuries. Those Dyson spheres and Alderson disks and Matrioshka brains weren't going to build themselves, and the knowledge and energy bound within would aid in their creation! The non-crazy answer was to return to a more sustainable way of life, something that hadn't been practiced for hundreds of years… of course, it may not have been so simple. Could such a state ever be returned to?

"You're insane! Do you really want to end up like me?" Nicole barked. The self-deprecation hardly flattered her, yet this was a final effort to pull Chang's head out of the sand.

"Not particularly, but the universe is a crazy place. We've found worse solutions." Really? He'd have to enlighten her. "For example, did you know that back in the 20th Century when nuclear weapons were being developed, some scientists thought their very existence might destroy the world? A single detonation could make Earth's atmosphere spontaneously combust!" This was demonstrated with his hands spreading farther apart in the faint image of a mushroom cloud. She couldn't help a groan. "But they did it anyway, because their options were surviving with a bang or going out with a whimper." Maybe that was true. Would humanity have gotten so far without playing Russian roulette? Didn't mean she wanted history to repeat itself. Because this would be the time the gun shot more than a blank.

"I guess I'm glad it'll kill you first. You're the one closest to it," said their pilot, who took this far better than her and Curtis. Still had enough fight to verbally spar. He hadn't seen what they'd seen. But he would.

"The true source of your anger is obvious, Schneider," he replied, not acknowledging the insult. "If it makes you feel any better, Copland is quite dead." That was the person who betrayed him. He snapped, and a couple of his lackeys wheeled out a gurney seconds later. Upon it was a woman with ebony shoulder length hair and pale skin… though the latter may have merely been the result of pallor mortis set in. Blood trickled from her nose, but nothing else seemed to be wrong with her (aside from being dead, of course). Couldn't immediately diagnose whether she'd be poisoned or strangled or what, though.

Curtis had a very different take on all of this. His terror and sadness faltered for a moment, and he felt something more akin to confusion. I think I know her, too, he thought, and recognition immediately flashed through her; this was the spitting image of the woman she'd seen in the very first memory she'd received from him when their Bond solidified, the one who mugged him when he was a teenager! Nearly made him leap out of his skin to see her again, all these years later and dead on a cot. It may have been a coincidence and the two women coincidentally looked identical (there were billions of people out there), yet he believed it to be the same woman. Sort of hoped it was. Anybody who'd sell out humanity for 30 pieces of silver invited the same fate, and it'd be better if evil was consolidated.

"There was nothing more she could offer us." Chang paused, looking over at her again more closely. "Actually, I think she'd be an excellent first subject for this." The Marker piece again came out. Fuck! She may have deserved to die, yet nobody needed what came next. Least of all the people whom the new Copland killed with blades or bile. The man on the screen turned back to them. If Nicole could give him credit for one thing, it was that his evil seemed to be born more from pragmatism than the faux piety of someone like Mercer.

"Now go. Flee to whatever corner of the universe you see fit. Just know that, sooner or later, no matter where you hide, we will find you." Perhaps he meant to say more, but Schneider disconnected before he could continue. For that, she was grateful. The two took so much of a spiritual and emotional clobbering that she didn't want to think anymore.

But they needed to. The future looked bleak, and the only way they'd survive for a time was by putting their heads together and coming up with something before they got… wherever they went. She curled into a ball to block out as many distractions as possible on her end. The world dimmed and deafened as her senses were plugged by layers of her own flesh wrapping around her. Her boyfriend practically passed out, so his senses weren't problematic.

For starters, Curtis needed a new identity. Using his RIG number to so much as purchase groceries would bring cops down on him faster than you could say "Altman be praised". Then they both needed money. Maybe there'll be time to clean out my accounts… assuming they haven't been locked down. Worth checking out. And there had to be something she could do to make money. Just needed to figure out what. As for Curtis, everywhere in the galaxy needed miners.

She tried to shake off her sadness and fear as much as possible. But mostly, she just sat. A few minutes later, she stretched out to tell Schneider they should get going, but it turned out they already were. The aquamarine infinity of shockspace yawned out the window. Clouds of color passed by before they were even formed. Shocking out went so smoothly neither of them felt it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Schneider asked back as she and Curtis stirred. "I've been here dozens of times and never quite gotten used to it."

"Yeah," Curtis choked out, still overwhelmed by his feelings. "It is." We should ask him, right? he also thought to her. Didn't see why not. All in the same boat now. Far more importantly, the man already alluded to being a criminal. Hopefully he had some contacts who could assist them.

"So, Schneider," she broached. The man spun around, no longer needing to steer with the autopilot engaged.

"Call me Stefan," he corrected, which she supposed was a positive development.

"All right, Stefan… we need your help."