When Tychus had calmed down, which could be compared to putting a plug on a live volcano, he started to assess the situation more critically. Sitting at a table in the cantina, he had helped himself to a cigar and a drink on the house.
The alarm system was still going off and the Adjutant kept blathering at him about infestation and not allowing him to turn anything off himself. Not that he knew his way around a ship as big as the Hyperion, but he had tried. He had also taken the time to find a pair of gray sweatpants. Not that I need them anymore. The thought almost made him erupt in fury all over again.
A stench had been burning at his nostrils for some time now and as he took a long pull of his drink Tychus saw the corpse of an engineer in a corner, pistol on the ground and innards chewed on. Corpses. A ferocious hunger hit him then, but it was not his own and he tamped it down with a snarl, looking away from the body and into his drink pointedly.
Well, not like anyone else is around to clean these poor saps up. Sighing heavily, he took another long pull to finish the watered down beverage off and stood up. Tastes funny anyway.
Taking drags of his cigar as he worked, Tychus started by grabbing the corpse in the cantina by the ankle and dragging it through the ship to the lift. To his surprise one of them creepy thought-slaves was there, ready to lower it for him. Revulsion filled him as he watched what had been a woman twitching spasmodically as she hit the button to lower the lift, fleshy tendrils throbbing and writhing all over her body.
Tychus chucked the body to the ground below as soon as there was enough clearance, he didn't need to look to know there were zerglings down there waiting. Over the course of the day he'd throw a good thirty men and woman in varying states of decay and dismemberment, along with a few zerg, to the ground beneath the ship. He could not help but feel as though something else was directing the infested humans, and had avoided going deeper into the ship on the count of feeling something, something he wasn't willing to confront just yet.
There was a persistent pressing on his mind, Tychus failed to grasp the words to describe it to himself but it was tiring. As though millions of different thoughts and inputs were zipping by just overhead, not close enough for him to understand. What Tychus did understand though were the feelings; There were only a few, but the swarm was truly united when it came to them: aggression, hunger and a kind of joy that could only be associated with the thrill of the hunt, or a kill.
Several times he caught himself lifting his rotting gore covered hand, poised to take a taste before he flung it back down to his side with as much force as he could muster, horrified.
When dawn rose over Char Tychus was sitting in the cantina again, drinking booze that tasted like ash on his tongue and sucking on cigars that gave him no pleasure. His eyes popped open wide when a jarring sensation struck him, the sound of a cocoon being hammered on as though he was directly beside it. Grimly, he stood up and made his way through the ship, drawn like a shark to bloody water.
When he came to stand in front of the door he heard the telltale sound of retching and liquid splashing the ground, deciding then to just lean against the wall outside and wait it out. Not like he had somewhere to be.
Tychus waited silently, thinking about his own progression when he stumbled out of the cocoon. Aught to come out soon, I reckon.
In a flourish, Stetmann strode out of his room fully clothed. Glasses, canisters of strapped on drinks, egghead outfit, the works. As if nothing was wrong, and as far as Tychus could see in a glance, there really was nothing wrong with Stetmann.
No zerg hair, crazy extra appendages, tentacles, nothing; maybe a little pale. It was a lot of take in with a quick glance though, and Tychus grunted at Stetmann to get his attention before the kid could walk off like he had somewhere to be. Stetmann froze.
Tychus gave him a minute but when it was clear the kid was damned paralyzed or something, he straightened up and planted his hand on Stetmann's shoulder, turning him around to face him with a little more force than necessary. No stranger to making people give him looks of terror, the way Stetmann's eyes widened to saucers behind his glasses and his mouth opened just slightly, when at worst he had called the kid names, was disconcerting for the bigger man.
Fed up, Tychus let go of his shoulder and grumbled "Egghead. Wake up." Snapping his clawed fingertips in front of Stetmann's face repeatedly until his eyes blinked rapidly and he seemed to come out of whatever pant pissing paralysis he had induced upon himself, Tychus was relieved.
"Tuh-tychus!" He squeaked, drawing his hands up to his chest, palms outwards in a placating gesture. "I-I'm sure we can fix this!" Unfortunately for Stetmann, that was very much so the wrong choice of words.
"What?" Tychus growled, the cherry of his cigar burning bright and casting his face into ghoulish relief in the red-flashing and otherwise dark hallway.
"The infestation, the changes, we can fix it! We-" Egon stuttered.
"We could have fixed it, Stetmann." Ire rising rapidly by the second, Tychus took one threatening step forwards and Stetmann took one terrorized step back. "We had the tools to fix this. You want to know what happened to them, kid?"
Tychus' teeth were grinding audibly when Stetmann whispered a response. "What happened?"
Not missing a beat, Tychus grabbed Stetmann by the front of his shirt, slammed him bodily into the wall and bellowed so hard veins throbbed on his temples. "An Ultralisk BROKE IT TO PIECES." The volume of his voice rising exponentially as he shook Stetmann in his fists like a dog with a toy.
What happened next was beyond the speed a normal eye, maybe even special equipment, could track. A sharp noise, like a gunshot, and an intense light erupted between the two men and Tychus was flung several feet back and onto the flat of his back.
Stetmann was rooted to the spot, steam was rising off his half cupped and trembling hands. His lab suit, namely the sleeves and chest, had been charred to nothing. Taking a shaky breath, he whispered in Tychus' direction- afraid to rouse him. "Tychus?"
There was a literal smoking crater of burnt flesh where Tychus' solid armored chest was not but a few seconds ago, Stetmann could even see the white of bone. When his chest heaved in a sudden breath, short lived relief flooded Stetmann. Sitting up slowly, Tychus held a hand to his chest and looked down at it, blinking before looking directly at Stetmann, visibly seething as his flesh had begun to re-knit and fill in the hole in his chest.
"Tychus. Please. Calm down, I didn't mean to-" Stetmann had taken his back from the wall and started gingerly stepping backwards, hands raised defensively still.
Kerrigan, who had been giving the directions to Zerus for Iszha to remember, paused with narrowed eyes.
"So." Tychus voice had lowered like distant rolling thunder and Stetmann had never seen such a murderous look directed at anyone, let alone his own person. "Got yourself some fireworks now, do you?" Teeth bared as he stood up, Tychus raised his arm up and instincts he had not possessed but a few days ago took over. The blade that was embedded in his upper arm shifted and in one smooth motion lifted and swiveled to face inwards, snapping into place alongside his forearm.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Stetmann launched into his room and was behind the sliding door at speeds only terror can fuel. His fingers stumbled all over his key pad as he heard Tychus running, no, thundering to the door. He initiated the locking code not a second too soon, but when the Adjutant's voice spoke up his spirits fell.
"Egon Stetmann. Infestation detected. Access denied." The Adjutant said with a denial beep.
"No!" Egon cried, but he hadn't counted on Tychus not giving a shit about whether the door opened or not. When the blade on Tychus' arm was shoved through the several inch thick steel, Stetmann jumped away from the door and stood cornered like a rat: positive he was about to experience a visceral death like he had imagined when Tychus was first thrown into that god-forsaken pit.
Letting out angry bellows, Tychus slammed his fist into the door repeatedly and stabbed through it as many times, venting violently. When the poor door slid open jerkily, he had unfortunately not been sated. As he stalked into the room, intent on some real violence to Stetmann's person, both men became locked in place.
You will not destroy one another. You will heed my will. Kerrigan's voice, decidedly annoyed, announced to each man. Abruptly released, Tychus and Stetmann remained frozen for a few minutes longer before Tychus slowly lowered his weaponized arm. Stetmann watched with grim fascination, he dare not voice it, as the blade folded back into Tychus' arm with a click.
"Well. You heard her highness." Tychus hissed, turning away and pulling another cigar out of his pant pocket. Lighting up and taking a slow drag, he focused. He had lost control, the instincts of millions of aggressive aliens had almost lead him to dismembering the kid. Hot shame filled him, but he wasn't ready to speak of it.
Lowering his hands slowly, Stetmann closed his eyes and almost thanked god before he realized Kerrigan was his savior in that instance, leaving him frowning. Tychus had walked out of the room and Stetmann followed meekly. He had no desire to be left alone in his room with a broken cocoon and vomit on the floor, he had so many questions and Tychus was apparently the only one around.
They arrived at the cantina in short order, and Stetmann tentatively sat across from Tychus. He couldn't disguise his surprise when the dour man shoved a beer at him. That was probably the biggest apology he was going to get, and he'd take it as a sign of peace.
Feeling a bit braver now that he understood Kerrigan wasn't going to let them rip each other to pieces, Stetmann took a drink of beer and grimaced. Taste buds have been changed, no doubt. "Sorry about reacting like that Tychus. You just- I just-" Tychus was staring at him silently, waiting for him to spit it out. "I literally just crawled out of an egg. And you, you have blood and gore on you..."
Furrowing his brows, Tychus looked down at himself. Sure enough, he had old blood spattered on his chest and pants, and it looked like he had dipped his hands in gore. Shrugging slightly, he nodded for Stetmann to continue.
"And you look like..." Stetmann whispered.
"A god damned infested monster?" Tychus prodded.
"W-well.." Stetmann stuttered.
Tychus was staring into his drink, Stetmann swore he heard him mutter "Don't even have a dick anymore." dejectedly.
"Er." Tychus glanced at him sharply and he wisely let it be.
When a foot kicked at the rigid material of yet another cocoon, Tychus quirked a brow and Stetmann nearly jumped out of his seat. "What? Oh... Oh we must be... Connected via the hive mind, I suppose." Stetmann stood up, rubbing his arms in a creeped out gesture.
"Didn't think anyone else would come around yet." Tychus slowly stood up, thinking. "Figured Queeny would spread us out more, you woke up almost exactly a day after me."
"Why would she do that?" Egon said.
"Known a lot of psychos in my lifetime, kid. It is just something they get off on doing." Findlay muttered darkly.
The banging persisted, thumping in their ears and cracking loudly as the cocoon gave way. Grabbing what remained of the beer pitcher, Tychus poured the contents over his hands one at a time and scrubbed the blood and gore off his hands and chest onto his pants.
"Uh, Tychus? What are you doing?" Stetmann asked.
"I'm gonna go see who woke up, and with any luck they aren't gonna spray me with acid or blow a crater in my chest or some shit. You, egghead, are going to go and turn off this god damned alarm system. Are we clear?" Tychus said.
"I think I can do that, yeah." Thankful to focus on a decent challenge, Stetmann was ready to go.
About to walk away, Tychus paused for a moment before changing course and grabbing the pistol he recovered from the corpse laying in the room earlier, handing it to Stetmann. By the way he took the weapon, he really didn't need to say he'd be useless even if he had to use it.
"I've never-" Egon said.
"Shut up, take it and try not to shoot yourself. Go." Waving him off with a meaty fist, Tychus watched Stetmann leave the cantina. For a second he saw something strange at the back of the kid's neck. Not so unchanged after all. Satisfied for the time being, he walked towards the living quarters, collecting a Gauss rifle and slinging it over his back along the way.
Warfield had kicked and punched his way out of the cocoon as fast as he could, mastering the upset in his stomach as he took in a breath of fresh air. Need a weapon. His first thought drew his eyes to his locker; from there he dressed himself, pointedly ignoring his changed flesh and the talons on his hands. Only when he straightened up, rifle in hand and fully clothed- though his old clothes were a damned tight fit, did he scrutinize himself.
"What you've done just ain't right, girl." Grumbling as he flexed a fist, watching talons extend and retract, before running a hand over his head in frustration and discovering spines there. Dropping his hand back to his Gauss rifle, Warfield scowled. Straightening up and facing the door, he held his rifle aloft and approached, wary of what waited for him in the Hyperion.
When the door slid open and revealed a monster, he pressed his finger to the trigger without a second thought.
Tychus was standing there, smoke drifting upwards from his cigar while his hands rested casually on the butt of his rifle. Multiple pupils constricted to pinpricks and focused on Warfield while he smirked. "Hello, General." Warfield had sworn he pulled the trigger.
"She ain't gonna let us kill each other, Warfield. Trust me, tried already. Now I see why the kid damn near soiled himself when he saw me though." He scrutinized Warfield's appearance, seeing the recurring theme of layered plated flesh, discoloration and the freaky alien hair.
Lowering the rifle, painfully aware of a physical force preventing him from firing at Tychus, Warfield looked subdued. "So this is how its going to be then? How come we aren't shambling zombies like the usual? Seen my fair share to know what happens to terrans when they get infested."
"Don't know. Maybe egghead can figure it out. Got em workin' on turning off the alarms right now." Tychus shrugged.
"Stetmann is out too? Right, he did go in before me. Can't remember what happened so good, fuzzy." Warfield made a swirling gesture beside his temple. "You know?"
"Yeah. Ah know." Tychus grumbled darkly, stepping away from the door and letting the General out of his room. "Egghead might need a hand. Kid looks perfectly normal- you wouldn't believe it. Lets go find him."
"Sounds good. Got questions, figure a sciencey-type might have answers." Warfield said.
"Probably need to go to the lab. Somethin' is down there. Don't know what though." Tychus' hand tapped Warfields rifle down when he took aim at an infested mechanic that had been standing behind a door, a tumorous mass on his deformed fist clenching and unclenching around a wrench. "They are empty. Can't kill em either, don't bother." It was true. Tychus had taken a minute to try and fire a round into a man who had been infested, wanting to put him down out of pity. He had even apologized when he wasn't able to.
"Poor sons o' bitches." Repulsed, Warfield looked away and kept pace with Tychus as they made their way.
Warfield's mind was a mess. Like someone poured a bowl of bugs into his brain pan and just mixed it all up. Glancing at Tychus occasionally, he figured the other man was feeling much the same.
The Adjutant was proving to be very good at keeping zerg from messing with it. Normally that would be pleasing, but now not so much. Stetmann had tried every override combination, every code, keyword and unobtrusive means of turning off the alarm and disabling the infestation alerts he could think of.
Each attempt had been rebuffed, again and again. As it was, he was attempting to unscrew the rusted tight bolts on an old electrical box and failing. Huffing and twisting with all his might, Stetmann was pressing his entire body weight on the bolt and it remained unmoving. "Thought Swann took better care of this stuff." Wiping sweat off his brow, he popped one of the few energy drinks he hadn't accidentally incinerated off of his belt and drank generously.
The two men approaching together made plenty of noise, Stetmann was able to mentally prepare himself to accept what he saw without outward reaction. When Warfield called out "There he is. Stetmann! Good to see you son." he managed to look up from the stuck tight bolts and smiled, pretending everything was normal.
"General Warfield, glad to see you alive sir. Sorry I haven't gotten the alarm off yet, the Adjutant has been giving me trouble and well," he gestured lamely to the rusted panel "so is this."
Clapping a broad hand on Stetmann's shoulder, Warfield moved the younger man aside and took a look while taking the wrench from him. "No sweat. Used to be real handy in my youth, you know. Anything to shut this damned alarm off anyway." Tychus just rolled his eyes and kept an eye out silently while Warfield undid the bolts with some ungodly screeching on their part.
"Stuck damned good too, probably would've just needed a laser cutter in other circumstances." Horus muttered.
"You mean the circumstances where we aren't 'roid raging aliens?" Snapped Tychus.
"You could say that. All yours son, we'll keep a look out." Having pulled the panel off and revealed the old wiring beneath, Warfield stepped back and gestured for Stetmann to continue.
"Yes sir! Normally I am into the less physical side of computers, but this is simple enough that I can manage. We will need Swann if we want to do anything more complicated, so here's hoping he will be intact." Pulling smaller drivers from the toolbox he had gathered, Stetmann loosened screws and switched wires around.
Tychus watched for a minute, trying to keep track of the kids rapid changes to the panel before giving up. Some things he just didn't care to learn.
"We should probably figure out where everyone's damned cocoon things are and get some shit set up for them." Warfield thought out loud as he looked down his side of the hall. "At least let them know the ship isn't full of bugs. I didn't have any idea what to expect."
"Already cleaned out all the bodies by myself, someone else can make the damn care packages for all I care." Tychus grumbled, vexed the more and more he thought about their situation. When the alarm and flashing lights were disabled and emergency power booted up, they let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Muuuuch better." Stetmann whirled a screwdriver around his fingers and dunked it into its container, grinning slyly to himself. "I'm good." When he noticed the other two men staring at him, he wavered. "Err. Sorry."
"So this is hell." Warfield muttered, to which Tychus snorted. "I'll meet you boys on the bridge, we got some planning to do."
"Yes sir!" Stetmann said.
"Riiight." Lighting a new cigar, Tychus stalked off leaving Warfield and Stetmann to make their way together.
"I need to go see the lab soon. Hopefully it's still in tact, I need to run tests and-" Egon began to chatter excitedly.
"Tychus said there was somethin' down there. We'll check it out together later, Stetmann. I'm inclined to agree with him. I... Feel something. It ain't right." Warfield said warily.
"Alright sir." Stetmann rung his hands anxiously as they entered the bridge, Tychus already waiting and staring out at their surroundings- the leviathan was all around them still.
"Ain't that some shit?" Tychus had seen it already of course, but he checked their reactions.
"Hell, we're on the leviathan? Just great." Warfield sighed, about to run a hand through his hair before catching himself.
"Yes, I saw it when we first left the ship.. Just amazing that its an animal of some kind, isn't it?" Stetmann said.
"Bein' a bug is gonna suit you at this rate, egghead." Tychus muttered.
"Speakin' of bugs. Why is the creep not getting into the ship? Why isn't the ship just full of zerg roamin' around? It's us, the infested and whatever the hell that thing we feel is." Warfield questioned.
"I only have guesses sir, no real answers. But the zerg are efficient, continually evolving at rapid rates to be even better and better at what they do. They are tools. Now we are zerg: we have a purpose, I just don't know what it is." Stetmann had sat down on a chair, palming where his pen and paper would be had they not been incinerated earlier.
"A sleeper cell?" Tychus volunteered, drawing the surprised eye of both his companions.
Warfield thought about it for a moment, brows furrowing. "Could be, good thinking. Doesn't bode well for the rest of the terrans though."
"No." Tychus glared at the floor. "It doesn't."
"I don't think so. I mean, this entire ship and everyone on it would immediately fail any scans or basic checks. The whole place would have to- oh." Stetmanns face fell as the other two men scrutinized him.
"I read your file." Warfield grumbled, puzzle pieces clicking together. "Isn't that basically what your field of expertise was, before you went on the run from the Dominion?"
On her leviathan, Kerrigan was smiling slyly into the stars.