If anybody is still reading this, I apologize for sucking so much at updating regularly.
When the lights dimmed for the second time, Ethos wasn't the only one to nervously glance around. Computers and data pads continued to hum in soft resonance with the ship, but several screens flickered, casting faces in unsteady green light.
"It's just interference from a nearby geomagnetic storm," Copernicus informed them from the main terminal, hands crossed behind his back as he oversaw the navigators in Keeler's absence. Despite Copernicus' sharp stare, Ethos didn't think he sounded very confident. "Back up your work frequently until we've passed it."
"Interference, my ass," Phobos griped quietly from one seat down. "More like outdated equipment, ugh."
A few of the other navigator's grumbled replies to that, but soon enough the soft sounds of working resumed. Ethos' own hands flittered over his electric data with ease; habit kept his work in progress, but his thoughts rested elsewhere, on Epiales, his failed efforts with Praxis, and the nervous way some of the navigators were fidgeting.
"What the hell is his problem?" Phobos muttered, and Ethos blinked in confusion before swiveling his chair to follow Phobos' judgmental frown.
Icarus, a tall and lithely built navigator two rows over, was staring at his screen in disbelief, eyes wide and nostrils flaring from short, quick breaths. The navigator next to Icarus, Puck, leaned over to check the screen, shrugging at the display of usual schematics. "You alright, hon?"
Icarus shook his head; the movement was slow at first, then became quick and frantic. "I saw…" he croaked, had to clear his throat, "thought I saw something."
"What?" Copernicus asked, walking over as he caught on to the disruption.
"I don't know," Icarus confessed, but sweat began to bead at his temples. "Nothing, I guess."
A few of the navigators gave him wary looks, like they recognized something in his stare, some resonance of warning, some tremor of instinct.
Ethos thought that it was like watching horses, the way nervousness could travel through a single animal's sudden posture and infect the rest.
Copernicus shook his head. "Go get some water. And make sure you mention this to medical later." He waved a hand in dismissal, giving the monitor one quick suspicious glance before likewise dismissing the data for what it was.
"Speaking of medical," Ethos timidly asked, "shouldn't D through F have been called by now? The first group has been gone a while."
"Porthos probably made a huge scene over his headache," Phobos joked, but several men began to repeat Ethos' question with their own curious comments.
"I'm sure the next group will be called soon," Copernicus assured them, raising his voice just enough to cut off chatter. "Until then, we don't need idle gossip."
Screens began to flicker once more, distorting script into jagged and extended symbols. The room quieted as the navigators watched, and more than one man squinted as if seeing something else. Then, as abruptly as the flickering began, it ceased, and the room was doused in darkness as the power cut off.
"Oh hell," Copernicus muttered, abandoning his professionalism with a drawn out sigh.
Spooked, a handful of navigators stood, and there were grumbled and nervous complaints as they stumbled in the darkness.
Ethos tried to keep his breathing controlled even as he leaned closer to Phobos.
"Does anybody have a tablet to get some light?" someone asked.
"I do," Puck offered helpfully, and tapped his fingers along the desk as he tried to locate it.
"Why isn't the backup system kicking in?"
"There's no way a magnetic storm should short us out like this."
"Ugh, Ethos, quit breathing like that, it's creepy."
"Sorry, Phobos."
"Here we go!" Puck said, his cheery tone only ruined by a slight, nervous waver as his tablet lit up; his face became illuminated by an inoffensive green glow.
"Okay," Copernicus started, drawing their attention once more, though his features were still largely shadowed. "I can hear the ship's normal hum. Things should be fine elsewhere. Puck, if you'll stand by the door so we don't break our necks trying to find our way out?"
Before Puck could reply, there was a loud metallic thump as something moved in the overhead ventilation. All eyes immediately moved to the lit-up paneling above Puck's head.
"What was that?" Phobos whispered.
Puck took a step backward, unnerved by the way the tablet allowed light to single him out. He squinted at the ceiling, throat bobbing as he swallowed. "The grating… I think I can see something-"
With a screech of metal, the paneling suddenly collapsed, dust and wires and something else falling with it, and Puck found himself staring up into the green-lit, jawless face of a monster. For a moment, nobody moved, and the only sounds were that of anxious breathing. Anticipation transformed the room into some macabre tableau as man and beast waited to see what the other was.
"It's wearing a medical sleeve," someone realized aloud, and just like that the spell was broken, and the mass of twisted, distended appendages growled and lunged at Puck.
The room erupted into a cacophony of shouts and toppled desks as men frantically pushed their way through toward the exit. More than one fell in the rush, and faceless navigators were stepped on in the dark.
Ethos felt a sharp tug on his arm, heard Phobos shout at him to run. He couldn't move though, couldn't look away or even blink as he watched the creature knock Puck to the ground with one brutal swing of a disjointed arm. Fear had him rooted to the floor, terror warring with his ability to flee. He heard other cries, too, a horrible mingling of Puck's screams and the monster's guttural grunting. Somewhere behind him, Phobos finally gave up, finally gave in to his own fear and ran to the now open door, and still Ethos stood.
The monster reared its head back, an unnatural bulge in its abdomen pulsating and dripping, its eyes like pits in its face, black impressions that blended in with the darkness.
Puck was crawling backward, too startled to stand and very much alone against the nightmare until suddenly he wasn't, as Copernicus seized his arms and hoisted Puck to his feet. "Run!" Copernicus bellowed, the whites of his eyes stark against the black room –like a horse's, Ethos vaguely thought, like a frightened horse's – before he shoved Puck toward the door, just as the monster's stomach rolled once more. Body quivering, it sprayed bile from its mouth, thick, mucous-like fluid that soaked Copernicus' face and chest.
The screaming that followed sounded inhuman, but Ethos knew it came from Copernicus' mouth. The pain warped cries were accompanied by the sizzling sound of flesh as his nose and lips began to melt, flesh dripping with streams of blood as his cheeks caved and his gums began to recede. He collapsed within moments, but his howling continued long afterward.
Encouraged, the monster lurched around, hissing at the light from the doorway as it swiveled its gaze across the rest of the dark room.
Ethos wondered if he was going to be next, if he'd scream just like Copernicus, but suddenly Puck was pushing him with small, shaking hands.
"Ethos!" His voice was nearly lost as alarms finally sounded. "Move! We h-have to run!" He gave another push, trying to kick-start movement into frozen legs. Behind him, Copernicus finally stilled, and the monster twitched as it made its slow way toward them.
Ethos met the creature's gaze and found his sense of flight; he stumbled after Puck, awkward and stiff the first few steps, then sprinting as fear seized his muscles. They fled the lab.
Left alone, the monster grunted and snorted, silenced only when another ceiling panel collapsed and it was joined by something that slithered rather than walked.