Everything was hazy. A blur. Dreams mixed with reality, all running together in some kind of twisted and feverish blend. He heard noises, the hum of power, the whine of machinery. He could feel himself being dragged. And yet it all felt so far away. He didn't know where he was. Nothing was familiar, the world around him kept shifting and breaking apart before reforming. Was it a dream? None of it made any sense to him. Was any of it real?
A figure was standing above him, face shielded. There was a bright light above, bright as the sun. He couldn't see their face, the light blinded him. But as he stared, it slowly began to shift and change. Three faces all in one. The familiar blue, soft face of Krystal, tinged with worry and upset, soon gave way to that of the youthful Fara. She had wide eyes, looked terrified, stared at him with a pleading expression. But he couldn't help her. He couldn't move at all. And Fara's face soon faded into a jaded reflection of his own. Worn and tired. Alone. Unable to save anyone.
He could hear things now. Could hear whispers all around him. And somewhere in the distance, someone was singing. There was something wrong with it, something terrifying. He should run. And at the same time, the source of disgust and terror was also somehow beautiful. Something wonderful. He wanted to follow it, to find who was singing. Yet whether he fought it or embraced it, he could not move. His body would not obey.
He was lying on a table now. Something bad was about to happen. His breath came out in erratic gasps, he struggled even just to breathe. He felt something on his foot, something cold and slimy. It snaked its way up his leg, up his waist. When he looked down, he couldn't see it. He could feel it as it moved, as it crawled toward his head. Yet it wasn't there. The singing was louder now. Fear washed over him, a primal and powerful terror that could not be controlled or reasoned with. Then he felt pain. Terrible pain. The feeling of some creature burrowing into his head. He screamed as it dug deeper, boring a hole in his skull and reaching the soft, vulnerable brain mass protected beneath. He was powerless to stop it. His vision grew tinged with red. He couldn't see, couldn't think. The pain was overwhelming, maddening. He tried to scream, but nothing came out, nothing to express the raw agony of his skull being split open.
Then he heard a voice. A voice that was as many, a number of voices all speaking and whispering to him, changing in pitch. Each moment, a different voice grew dominant while the previous one was subdued. Some were deep and masculine, others were higher, musical and feminine. Over and over again it changed. He could not see, he could only hear. All he could do is listen as the voice addressed him.
Why do you embrace cold metal? Why do you reject the ecstasies of flesh? You can still join in our song...
With a panicked gasp and wheeze for air, Fox's eyes snapped open, and he lurched upright, panting heavily. He had been sweating, his fur was damp. His head was pounding, and it felt like someone was running a jackhammer in the middle of his skull. He ached all over. Purely by instinct he raised a paw to his forehead. He rubbed and massaged the painful spot for a few moments, groaning as pain shot down his body. He didn't know what had happened to him, but he felt awful. This was like the worst hangover he'd ever had but increased by a factor of at least ten.
The pain was intense, worse than anything he'd experienced in recent memory. After gritting his teeth, he managed to collect himself enough in order to look around the room and see what was nearby. The room was well lit, the power was still on here, so that was good. But where was here? What was he doing, why was he here?
He shifted, placing his hands on either side of him to get a better hold of the bed he was now sitting upon, still wincing with every movement that he made. His whole body was protesting his actions, his head most of all. But he found as he moved, it got a little bit easier for him. After a moment, he realized he wasn't on a bed at all. It was some kind of operating table. It was the kind that would be kept in a hospital or other medical facility. He began to study his surroundings, the headache that had been so strong slowly dying away and fading into a quiet pulse, still uncomfortable and painful, but not as agonizing as before.
He found himself in a room that he was certain he had never been in before. His initial thoughts were proven correct, as it did indeed look like a medical area, as there were all sorts of tools and instruments used by surgeons on a table nearby. The environment was sterile in appearance, and the lights above him came from one of those strange multi-surgical lights that he had seen in every holo-video he had ever watched that took place in a hospital. And as if he still couldn't figure out, he looked down and found himself in a green patient's gown. It felt a little breezy in the back, and when he reached behind him, he discovered that there was a slit exposing his form and backside to anyone who might be behind him. Lovely.
What was he doing in surgery?
While this puzzled him, he did not truly become alarmed until he noticed the blood on the floor. He hopped off of the table, hissing as his bare feet touched the surface beneath him. It wasn't pain that caused this reaction. Rather, it was because floor was so cold! He then knelt down, taking it slow in an effort to minimize the stiffness and aches that still threatened to overwhelm his body. Once he had dropped to his knees, he reached for some of the blood staining the floor, smearing it on his paws. It wasn't -fresh-, per se. As in, it probably hadn't been spilled mere minutes ago. But it wasn't quite dry either. It had been spilled, and recently. Unless there had been another patient here within the last while, there was a very good possibility that this was Fox's blood. But why was he bleeding?
He gasped, his exhalation turning into a near scream as his senses were flooded with raw agony. His head exploded with pain, and he couldn't help but clutch at the sides of his head and whimper from the raw sensation. But as he did so, his paws fell upon something foreign. Something that was not supposed to be there. Something metal and cold. He blinked his eyes, then slowly started feeling up the side of his face. His digits curled around a piece of cold metal embedded into his facial structure. That was new. He was pretty sure he hadn't started the day with that. That is, assuming it -was- the same day. How long had he been out?
He needed a better look at whatever it was that was currently attached to his skull. He looked around, searching for a mirror or something, anything that would give him a good view of himself. He couldn't find a mirror, but on one of the nearby tables there was a large bonesaw with a reflective surface. He picked it up, then held it in such a way that he could see his own face.
He almost dropped the thing when he saw his own reflection. "Holy crap." He muttered to himself.
Someone had done a rather invasive surgery to his face. He looked like a friggin' cyborg now. There was a large black object embedded in his cheek, and what looked like a wire running up the side of his face, burrowing into his fur just near his eye. His eye had a small, curved plate around it. He could still see out of it, and in fact his vision seemed unhampered, he hadn't even noticed any difference yet. He gingerly reached up with his hand and traced the surface of the implant, running his fingers around the thing in soft, delicate patterns. It didn't hurt to touch, which he was grateful for. He tested the thing, gave it the gentlest of tugs, wincing a bit when he felt that familiar pain wash over him. Whatever it was, it was now grafted onto his face. Into it, more like.
He growled quietly, frowning at his own reflection in the surgical tool. Oh, he wanted to meet whoever did this. He was going to personally ensure that they had a -very- bad day when he ran into them.
It occurred to him that this might not be the only change that they had made, and he immediately shifted his hospital gown and started looking for any evidence of further intrusive surgery upon his body. Fortunately, he didn't find any. His appendages, tail included, were right where he left them and as he left them. Taking off the gown for the moment, he could see nothing else that indicated anything was amiss, and as he ran his paws over his own body, he couldn't feel anything out of place either. Everything was exactly where it should be and how it should be, no further implants or grafts. So that was something at least.
With a sigh, he put his gown back on, trying to lace up the back of it so he wasn't quite as exposed as before. Not that it much mattered. The only people he'd run into so far had been those crazed psychotic pipe wielding maniacs and whoever it was that dragged him down here, so it's not like dignity was much of a priority at the moment.
Now that he was "dressed," he needed to learn more about his environment. First and foremost, he needed a weapon. The closest thing he had to that right now was some of the surgical tools. And he really didn't want to resort to that. Not only because he didn't think they would be terribly effective, particularly if one of his potential assailants had a shotgun and he didn't, but also because it would be very messy. He'd probably have to drive the thing into someone's more vulnerable spots, such as the eyeballs or throat. And he didn't much relish that thought.
"McCloud. Can you hear me?"
Fox blinked, surprised by the voice. The voice belonged to a male, deep and stern. Fox looked around the room, searching for the speaker but found no one. He was alone here, at least as far as he could tell.
"Steady, soldier. You've been given an experimental cyber neural interface to help you deal with the horrors that await you on this ship. It has been surgically grafted onto your skull."
"That was you?!" Fox hissed, continuing to look around the room. He was determined to find the source of the voice. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he found the person responsible, but those surgical tools suddenly seemed a lot more appealing to use.
"Yes. And do not bother looking for me. I am not in the room. I am transmitting my voice over the interface you now possess. With my help, you may have a fighting chance of getting through all of this."
"What's going on?" Fox demanded. "What's happening on this ship? Why did you do this to me?"
"We do not have time for your questions." The voice stated coldly. "The infestation that has taken over this ship is spreading by the moment, like a cancer. All defenses are failing, and there's only a handful of the crew left to resist, one of which dragged your unconscious form to surgery, then set up the equipment for the operation. They have been called away, as urgent matters required their attention elsewhere." There was a brief pause as the speaker let this sink in. "The infected are looking for you. It is only a matter of time before they learn your location. Time is of the essence, and we must work quickly."
"Who's we?" Fox asked.
"I am Doctor Aiten of the cybernetic and AI development and research team. I'm barricaded in my office and have no way of reaching the rest of the ship. But if you listen to me and do exactly what I say, we may yet survive. Rely on your implants, trust your instincts, they just might save your life. I will keep you alive as long as I can. The rest is up to you."
"How did you conduct a surgery if you were barricaded somewhere else?"
"This room contains state-of-the-art machinery that is capable of conducting advanced surgical procedures with only minimal instructions. I was able to direct it from here."
"So you had a bunch of machines install this thing." He didn't liking the sound of that one bit. "So what about the person who brought me here? Who are they? Where are they?"
"There are some left in the ship who resist the parasitic influence. Your rescuer was one of those. But you need not concern yourself with them, they are long gone now. Concentrate on your survival. There is little else that matters."
"Okay..." Fox took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. This wasn't a good situation that he found himself in, and he certainly didn't like being at the mercy of this "Dr. Aiten," whoever that was. But it would seem that, at least for the moment, he had no better alternative than to co-operate with him. "Then what do you suggest I do first?"
"You are of no use to anyone without a weapon. Your suit was damaged beyond repair, and your blaster was lost in that skirmish by the elevator. However, I instructed your rescuer to leave some equipment behind. You will find it bundled by the door. Now move!" The voice cut off, and he was left alone once more.
He really didn't like the idea of this person being in his head, issuing orders whenever they deemed fit. He didn't know the first thing about them, he didn't even know if he could trust them. That said, if they wanted him dead, he had to assume they would have done it by now. Why would they bother rescuing him in the first place if that were not so? Why would they drag him down to surgery? And even if it weren't voluntary, why would they install some kind of experimental technology on him if they didn't feel it was necessary? Desperation perhaps? Whatever the case, he'd have to do as they instructed. For now.
There was only one door out of the room. And now that he was looking, he saw a large, see-through container resting by that door. He started to approach it, hissing at the feeling of the cold floor beneath his toes. Surely it wasn't supposed to be this cold. Then again, everyone in here would be wearing shoes or boots under normal circumstances. He doubted the temperature of the metal floor was of much consequence.
Thankfully, he wouldn't have to worry about it much longer. There were a pair of boots beside the container, just his size. He didn't put them on right away, boots were saved for last. He popped open the container, looking at what lay within.
It wasn't the sort of outfit that he would usually wear, that much was certain. It looked nothing like anything in his wardrobe. It was a very sturdy looking material, certainly not something made for fashion, not that he had ever much cared about that sort of thing. It wasn't any kind of real armor, but it might provide some minor protection. It wouldn't stop a bullet, he doubted that very much. The colors were dull and dark, which was probably for the best. It appeared to be something that was made for a security guard, but not the armored kind. No, this was the kind someone might wear while watching the front door of a shop after closing hours. An outfit that belonged to a security guard that didn't expect any -real- action. And his suspicions seemed to be accurate. No weapon. No gun, no taser. Not even a baton. Great.
He twitched as that voice suddenly sounded in his head again, loud and irritated. "Why do you delay? There are forces at work here beyond your comprehension, and you struggle to dress yourself. You must move quickly!"
Fox sighed. Well, he was going to have to get used to this new voice in his ear. And he had a feeling it was going to be a real "fun" relationship. He stripped off the gown, then started to put on his new gear, such as it was. Once he had it all on, it felt pretty comfortable, he had to admit. It was definitely the right size, which surprised him. And even though it wasn't his normal outfit, it did seem to be well made. That was something. At this point, he had to take whatever he could get.
The last thing that he put on were the boots, and he was glad to find they fit well. The best part about it was that his feet didn't feel cold anymore. Unfortunately, in this new outfit, he looked more like one of the crew than he did a member of Star Fox. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, considering the situation he found himself in. Would that make any people he met more or less likely to be hostile toward him? It didn't much matter. He had no idea where his old clothes were. And he seemed to have lost almost everything else that was in his possession. In addition to his weapon, his communicator was missing. That meant he had no way of contacting the Great Fox. That was a problem.
He already missed his team. He missed Slippy's technical analysis and advice, Falco's self-assured snark, and Krystal's kind wisdom. The conversations, the arguments. But more than anything, he felt so much less secure without them. He could handle himself, he wasn't afraid to be alone. Yet there was security in team Star Fox. Together, they had faced countless odds. And he honestly couldn't think of a single time where he had been well and truly alone, save for brief moments, such as his final confrontation with Andross. And even then, he hadn't been entirely alone. He always had support, always had the team at his back. Even if they weren't physically with him, he knew they were close by, listening and ready to provide assistance.
This time, he didn't have that. He was cut off from them, couldn't even reach them by communicator. He didn't even -have- a communicator at the moment. Just some clothes that probably belonged to a mall-cop. He couldn't remember a time when he felt so alone. Or ill-equipped.
Fox was hard pressed to think of a more miserable day he'd woken up to. Nothing came to mind.
Though he didn't have his communicator, he did find a familiar device located at the bottom of the container, something he had almost forgotten about. The little PDA he had taken from the security guard. It was still there, ready for use. That was lucky. That might help him out a little bit in dealing with this situation. He decided to equip it, strapping it to his arm and keeping it within easy access. He shifted his paw, flexing and bending his arm this way and that, testing whether the new accessory was secured or not. It stayed firmly attached.
For now, Fox needed to look to his immediate survival. He wondered if it were possible for him to contact the doctor directly, if there was something he needed to do in order to transmit, then a thought occurred to him. He spoke, curious if he would be heard. "Alright, I'm dressed. What now?"
He barely got the words out before he got a response. "You still need a weapon. Either find one in that room or step outside. You should be able to find something useful somewhere. But be quick about it. I am detecting some increased activity nearby, security measures reactivated. It is likely that they now know your location and will attempt to flush you out. Find a weapon and get out of there as soon as you can. I will attempt to delay them."
"Delay them? Delay them how?" Fox wanted to know. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he was going to get any answers. The doctor never responded to him. He didn't like this. He didn't like this situation one bit. He was putting his life into the hands of this stranger, someone he had no idea if he could trust or not. But if he was telling the truth, and Fox saw no reason why he would lie, then he needed to move fast. He did not want to encounter more of those things and be caught unprepared. He had a strong feeling that next time he might not be so lucky so as to have a rescuer come to his aid.
Once again, he took a quick look around the room. There really wasn't much here, very little that would be practical. A bone saw, which might perhaps be useful if he caught them from behind and sawed through their throat, but that would be disgusting and horribly impractical. He needed something sturdier, something with a little more heft. Something that would be useful in almost any situation.
He rifled through all of the tools and knives here. He wished there was a big knife, all he could find were small scalpels. And honestly, he didn't really want to use a knife anyway, he'd prefer something blunt, like a club. But it would seem that there wasn't a lot of practical use for a club in surgery, which didn't really surprise him. After looking around for a bit, he sighed and simply picked up one of the bigger scalpels. It wasn't much. And if he did have to use it in combat, he predicted it would turn into a mess. He'd be stabbing an enemy in the throat, the eyes, the neck, or something similar. He really didn't relish that thought, but he supposed this was better than nothing, at least for the moment. He'd replace it as soon as he got the opportunity.
Now that he was "equipped," it was time for him to leave. He didn't even bother asking the doctor for instructions, he just went to the door and pressed the little panel to the side. It lit up, but the door didn't open. He waited for a few moments, then pressed it again. Nothing. "Crap."
"You may experience technical failures from time to time. The ship is falling apart at an alarming rate. Maintenance is no longer a priority, and many of the crew are either dead or infected by the hostile organism. Most of the maintenance bots and other systems have been compromised by the ship's AI. The strong gravitational pull of the nearby planet is also influencing the vessel's rate of deterioration."
Fox was going to ask the doctor what he should do about that, but then the door hissed open, seemingly of its own accord. Now he was free and could wander the deck. But what should he do first?
It was almost as if the doctor could read his thoughts, answering his questions even before he voiced them. Fox also contemplated the unpleasant possibility that he really -could- read his thoughts because of those damned implants that had been installed. He had no idea what they did. "You are currently in the medical wing of Deck 2. You need to get to the elevator, but it's currently locked down to all but certain key personnel. You are not one of those. Fortunately for you, there is someone on that deck who is."
Fox nodded. "Alright. Where is he?"
"He is currently in the surgical ward. You will find him there."
"Surgery?" He raised an eyebrow. "Aren't I in surgery?"
"No." The doctor responded curtly. "You are in the emergency surgery unit, it is separate from the regular one. Easier to access. The chief of surgery, Doctor Kline, is in the primary surgical ward. He has locked himself in. You must find and convince him to either join you or to part with his keycard, allowing you access to other parts of the ship. Specifically, engineering. I shall relay further instructions as you need them. For now, find Doctor Kline."
The voice in his head went quiet again, and it seemed as though Fox were on his own once more. He had a feeling that this was going to happen a lot. He didn't like it, but he'd just to have deal with it and stay focused on the mission.
Now he had to get his bearings and figure out exactly where he was and where he was going. He didn't have to work terribly hard to figure it out, thankfully. There were a number of signs that pointed him in various directions, clearly labeled so he knew where to go. There were even lines on the floor of different colors, each taking the person to different parts of the hospital. From where he was, the red line went to the reception area, which he assumed would be in the direction of the elevator. The other lines led to different parts of the medical ward. He didn't have a map of the place, but he suspected that this was a rather large facility.
It took him a moment before he remembered that the PDA had provided him a map of the flight deck when he had looked at it earlier. Perhaps it would help here as well? After holding up his arm, he pressed what he thought was the same button that he had hit before, and sure enough, a map appeared for his benefit, able to be manipulated at will with his fingers. He sifted through it, trying to get his bearings and learn the layout.
It seemed a little complicated, at least at first. As near as he could tell, this deck was arranged into two separate wings. One was medical, the other was science. The science ward also included crew quarters for most of the staff on this deck, which he supposed would be convenient for both the doctors and their patients. Doctor Aiten hadn't said anything about that, so he assumed that he didn't need to go there. The science ward was in the same direction as the reception area, so he felt he could safely ignore that wing for the moment, which made things a little simpler.
In the other direction was the rest of the medical ward. It was divided up into a variety of sectors. Rooms for running various scans on a patient, examination rooms, chemical and equipment storage, medical supplies, and way in the back was the operating theater. Of course, the layout of the hospital was a little more complicated than that, but for the moment he had what he needed to know.
"Alright, doctor, I'm about to head to the surgical ward. Anything I need to know? Any dangers on this deck?" He wasn't sure if he'd get an answer or not. To his surprise, the doctor responded almost immediately.
"There are dangers on every deck, this ship is fully compromised." The reply was almost patronizing in its tone. "As for specific dangers, there are a few of those...hybrids...up ahead. They do not know you are there, and they are not in great numbers. They seem to be wandering around. I do not know why." There was a pause. "I advise that you proceed with caution. You are not equipped to deal with a horde of these creatures. Try to avoid drawing attention to yourself if you can help it. You are not useful to me if you are dead."
"Thanks," Fox offered dryly. He was just about to proceed when he thought of something. "What about security? Aren't there any security measures on this ship?"
"DARIUS has assumed control of most of the security systems aboard this ship. He was the artificial intelligence assigned to the care of this vessel. Unfortunately, he has been severely compromised by the enemy. Security cameras are his eyes, and his eyes are directed by the cancer that now infests this ship. He will be working against you at every turn. I suggest caution and stealth. Avoid the cameras, and avoid setting off alarms. DARIUS will be watching and listening. Try to be inconspicuous, if you are indeed capable of such a thing."
Fox waited a few moments to see if the doctor had anything further to say, but he was met with only silence. So that was what that voice belonged to, the one he had heard earlier, before he'd been rendered unconscious. The ship's AI. No wonder it had sounded so odd to him. Well, at least he knew what the thing was. It wasn't a real person, just a machine. A machine that had evidently fallen into the wrong hands. That certainly would complicate matters for Fox, if the entire ship was compromised. That could mean that he would not only have to deal with infected personnel, but he might have to fight against all of the security measures too.
Fox could not currently imagine how the situation could possibly get any worse. And he didn't dwell on that thought, as he was quite certain it would soon find a way. It always did, somehow. So Fox set off, taking the doctor's advice to heart. He may not have liked the doctor very much right now, but he didn't doubt the sincerity of his words. He would rather not be seen by whatever was lurking down here, and he would proceed by making as little noise as he could as he walked down the hallway.
Naturally, the wing was quite large. There were all sorts of rooms that he passed by, and he might even be curious about them if he didn't have other things to do. Doctor Aiten hadn't directed him to explore, and at the moment he saw no real reason to. He saw all the sorts of things one would typically expect in a large hospital. It seemed they were equipped to handle almost anything. If it were within the reach of modern science or medicine, they had it here. His eyes widened a bit when he passed one room, and he had to stop for a moment to get a better look. There were a number of cribs and baskets laid out neatly before the window. A nursery.
There were children aboard this ship.
That thought unsettled him, the thought of children being exposed to these horrors. Even though he wasn't directed to, this time he did decide to deviate from the path a bit. He doubted very much he would find anyone in there, as it was quiet and dark. All of the rooms up to this point had been so. In this case, however, he had to check at least. He didn't know what he would do if he found children inside. He couldn't take care of them, couldn't bring them with him on his mission. But maybe he could at least make sure they were secure, or take them somewhere they would be.
He pressed on the door panel, which slid open with a hiss. He was greeted with a loud voice, which caused him to jump back and raise his scalpel up reflexively as a weapon. It was that same voice again, and for a moment he wondered if he had set off an alarm. Fortunately, it seemed to be an automatic message. "This is DARIUS. Please refrain from using bright, flashing lights or loud noises while in the nursery. The children aboard the Von Dross are our most precious resource. If you have recently had a child, the management wishes to express their fond wishes and congratulations. Please wait until a nurse has brought you your infant. One will be along shortly. Thank you."
The announcement ended with a chime, and DARIUS was silent once more. There was a certain grim contrast provided by that message. He imagined it once seemed quite normal, but it felt so wrong now that the ship was in such dire traits. It was as though it were pretending that everything was in perfect working order, that all was normal. A nursery with no children to nurse. Fox hoped very much that was an automated message. It certainly sounded like it. He just hoped that it had not alerted anyone to his presence.
Now that he was inside, he decided to take a look around. He hit the light switch, which didn't do anything at first. He grumbled to himself, wondering why everything on this ship seemed to be broken, but then realized that the room was getting brighter. As he looked up, he could see the lights every so slowly bathing the room, increasing the level of illumination by degrees. The lights had been designed to turn on gradually, giving the eyes an easier time to adjust. He supposed that was for the sake of the newborns. Smart.
Once the lights were as bright as they were going to get, he started looking around. There were perhaps a dozen cribs laid out in the front of the room where he had entered. They had little starships and toy planets overhead, slowly spinning above the cribs in order to entertain and soothe the occupants. The cribs and baskets were all empty, though some of them had been turned over in haste. As he poked around, he didn't find any blood, and he was grateful for this. If something had happened in here, it hadn't been a bloodbath. With any luck, a few nurses or concerned members of the crew had hastily scooped up what children they could and taken them somewhere safe.
He was struck by the silence here. Aside from the faint hum of power that seemed ever present on this ship, he heard nothing. No babies crying, no sounds of anyone moving around. It certainly seemed abandoned.
There was a door in the back, he decided to see where that would lead. It was dark inside, and once again he fumbled for the light panel. The lights flickered for a moment, letting him see a bit of the room before abruptly turning off. He only got the briefest glance at his surroundings before the lights died. Sighing, he reached for that device on his wrist and played with it for a few moments. He could have sworn he saw something about a flashlight earlier, and...
He got it! A dim light emanated from his PDA, and he held it up to get a better look at the room around him. He found himself in a room with a very comfortable looking device, a cross between a bed and a recliner. He suspected it was used for childbirth. There were a variety of medical instruments and machines, all designed to assist in the process and render aid to any newborns that might require it. They all appeared to be offline.
However, what truly caught his eye was something that was on the bed. Someone was laying there. A woman. And she wasn't moving.
He approached her cautiously, keeping his grip on that scalpel just in case she wasn't as dead as she looked and decided to attack him. She was laid on her side, looking away from him as he approached. He rested his hand on her shoulder, then ever so gently tugged on her, rolling her body just a bit to face him. He let out a quiet, inaudible gasp as he turned her over and got a better look at her.
She was a bunny, and had a youthful face. She was wearing a nurse's uniform. She was rather attractive, her form slender and pleasing to the eye. She had white fur with pink splotches on her forehead and scalp. Her eyes were closed, and she looked so peaceful lying there. For a brief moment, Fox thought she was asleep. But he soon realized that she didn't appear to be breathing, her body quite still. He placed his fingers against her neck, feeling for a pulse that he feared to be absent. And just as he expected, there was nothing there. She was gone. Long gone, if he had to guess; she'd been here for a while, a few hours at least.
He was just about to pull away from her when he noticed that she was clutching something in her hand. It only caught his attention because it flashed, an electronic blue glow that soon dimmed before brightening again. It was somewhat subdued in nature, and he easily might have missed it. He held his light up, then moved closer to get a better look.
It was a device similar to the one that he was wearing. Another PDA. He reached for it, pausing as his hands settled atop the thing before glancing at her face. "Sorry about this," he murmured, then started to tug on it, pulling it loose from her wrist. Once it was free, he started messing with the thing, curious if he'd find anything useful. He was gradually getting the hang of these devices. It had seemed so complicated at first, but he suspected they had been designed to be understood quickly by anyone who might use them.
He had even managed to figure out how to check the last activity made. It turned out, she had left behind some kind of message. He tapped on the PDA, then heard a hiss of static before a message was relayed. A voice that he was positive belonged to the dead girl. Her voice was strained, haggard. She sounded so very tired, exhausted. But more than anything else, he could hear the fear in her voice.
"She took them today. She thinks she can bring them somewhere safe. I hope she's right. They don't deserve this, any of this. But I know...I know what those things are capable of. They won't hesitate because they're children or infants." The voice was quiet for a while, then could be heard taking a shaky breath. "She asked me to join her. I...I stayed behind. I thought others might need help. But I hear those things out there now. I hear them, those horrible voices saying those things. And I feel something deep inside, something wrong. Like something is calling to me...singing to me."
The recording continued after a brief skip. Another entry, recorded not long afterward.
"I'm trapped. I can't get out. But I can't just wait for those things to get me. I'll just...go to sleep."
"Jack, I miss you. I...I've missed you ever since I got here. And Melissa, honey? If you ever hear this...I'm so sorry. Take care of daddy for me, okay?"
"Mommy loves you very much!"
The recording came to an end with a loud click, and Fox lowered his head, rubbing at his temples as he contemplated what he had just heard. The poor woman. He turned her body again, now knowing what to look for. He then found the bottle of pills clutched in her paw, the cover opened, most of the medication now missing. He didn't have to guess where it went. It looked to be some sort of sleeping pill, and she had taken enough of a dose to put herself into a very deep sleep indeed. One from which she would never awaken. He couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pity for the poor woman. What was more, he felt anger directed toward himself. It wasn't logical. Depending on when they had arrived and how long Fox had been unconscious, there was a distinct possibility that the poor woman had been dead before they even started to orbit the Von Dross. It wasn't his fault. There was nothing he could do. And yet...somehow, he felt as though he had failed her. Maybe he could have stopped this, saved her life. Maybe her husband and child would have seen her again.
But it was not to be. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do for her now. The only consolation he could draw from the matter was that it was, at least, a peaceful end, unlike whatever might await those who were assaulted or captured by those things.
He would have to leave her here now. But a thought occurred to him just before he left. He had thought about taking her PDA with him, perhaps she might have access to certain areas that he wouldn't. But if he made a habit of picking up people's PDAs to check for locked doors, he'd soon have so many that they'd be a burden to carry. That wouldn't do. Was there perhaps some way to make this easier? So he wouldn't have to physically carry every PDA that he found?
Well, he seemed to be safe in this room, he couldn't hear any of those things around. They hadn't found this room so far. Now would be as good a time as any to experiment. He started to mess with her PDA, looking for something that might help him, anything. Maybe it had a little electronic chip that could be ejected and placed in his device, to be downloaded and installed. Or maybe some sort of digital transfer?
Whatever he was looking for (And even he wasn't sure exactly what that was), it wasn't easy to find. It might not be a feature at all. If it did exist, he just had to hope there wasn't some kind of pass code encryption or something.
Fortunately, he caught a break. With one last press of one of the buttons, he found what he was looking for. An interface that described in detail how to do a data transfer, specifically for if an old PDA had been damaged or ruined somehow. It also came with a very stern warning for it to not be used in the way Fox intended to use it. He read it aloud. "Any attempt to download another person's security clearance or personal information will result in immediate suspension of all pay, dismissal from the company, and punishment up to and including solitary confinement until the nearest habitable planet is reached, whereupon the accused may be left behind as the captain sees fit."
Good thing he wasn't a member of the crew. Though somehow he doubted very much that it would matter at this point. Was there even anyone left alive to enforce this?
He didn't spare it much more thought. He pressed the confirm button, and the screen of his PDA changed, an icon of a wavy line appearing on it as it began the transfer. It only took a moment, and there was an electronic chime announcing that he was finished. With that, he lay the woman's PDA beside her. He looked her over one final time, his eyes heavy with regret before turning for the exit. He wasn't even sure if he'd gained anything from that. She might not have had access to any of the secure areas of the ship. But at least he knew how to do it now. And if he ever managed to get out of here, he could give the message to her family himself, or send it to someone who would know how to contact them.
An electronic chime rang in his ear, reminding him that he wasn't entirely alone. He soon heard the voice of Doctor Aiten. "I see you have learned how to download data from other devices. That will be a useful tool going forward. It was considered a security risk and the science team was considering removing the feature, but no one wanted to spare the expense. How fortunate that this worked out for you. Now move. Every moment you delay gives them more control of the ship, further reducing your chance of survival."
This Aiten fellow was really starting to get on his nerves. But he didn't see the point of arguing with him, just nodded his head and continued on. When he finally found this Aiten, he was going to give him a piece of his mind.
He found himself leaving the delivery room and entering the nursery. As he spotted the empty cribs, he thought of the message and how the woman had stated that the children were safe. At least, they were safe at the time that she had recorded that, whenever that was. He hadn't thought to check the date at the time. He would have to correct that now.
Her message had indeed been downloaded along with everything else. Rather than playing it again, he simply looked at the time. It looked like it had happened...about three hours ago. That wasn't long at all. He hoped that whoever taken the children had been right, and they had found a safe place. If they were still alive somewhere, maybe Fox could find them when all this was over and get them out of here in one piece.
For now, he had to refocus on his immediate survival. Upon exiting the nursery, he found himself back in the long corridor that was the hospital hallway. He needed to go straight ahead to find the surgery ward, though he didn't think he was terribly far now. The path he followed eventually came to a corner, making a hard right. Rather than just turning the corner like an idiot, he decided to poke his head around and see if there was anything there. Nice and subtle, he thought dryly.
It was a good thing he did. There were at least two of those worm-parasite-freaks nearby. Hybrids, as the doctor had called them. He supposed that made sense, likely a reference to the fact that the person seemed fused with the worm-like thing that had taken over their bodies. They weren't looking at him, weren't even looking in his direction. One of them was staring up at something, and as Fox took a better look, he realized that he was staring at a security camera. The thing was whirring quietly as it turned from left to right to get a good view of the entire area. Thankfully, it was positioned in such a way that it didn't have a clear view of where Fox was. But it would be rather tricky to get through without being noticed.
The other "hybrid" was being equally unproductive, not really doing much of anything. He was holding a large pipe, probably broken off from somewhere else in the ship, and was simply wandering around aimlessly, murmuring to himself, letting one end of the weapon drag along the ground, emitting the sound of scraping metal as he moved. "The many sings the song...the many sings to us..."
The voice was so unsettling to Fox. It wasn't just the tone, though that was certainly part of it. It was the way it shifted in pitch, rising up and down. And the way it sounded like more than one person speaking at once. It was as though there were two minds in one body, fighting for control. It was disturbing, there was no question of that. He didn't understand what they meant half the time. The words themselves were not normal. And he remembered from his earlier experience when he had encountered them that some of their actions seemed involuntary. Mind-control, perhaps?
The worst part about this is that it gave him a sense of deja vu. He remembered when Corneria had been invaded by the Aparoids, how so many Cornerian soldiers had been corrupted and transformed. And based on General Pepper's personal experiences, Fox knew that those who had been influenced by the Aparoids were not in control of their actions, even horrified by what they had done.
It was sickening to think that the same thing was happening here. But he didn't understand why it was happening. Even as he peeked at them, he saw no evidence of Aparoid corruption. These worms and the strange mutations that were happening to the people infected by them, it looked nothing like what the Aparoids had done. A similar effect, perhaps, but certainly distinctive enough to separate it from those other vile things. Besides, the Aparoids were dead. Fox and his team had personally eliminated the queen, and all of the other Aparoids had seemingly been destroyed with that act, most of them self-destructing, and others simply dying where they once were. No, this couldn't be the Aparoids. They were gone, yet this was admittedly far too similar.
Whatever the cause, it disturbed him greatly. If it -were- anything like the Aparoids, then killing whatever was causing this might just set some of them free, at least those who weren't too far gone. If it weren't, then...well, it was a terrible feeling when he had been forced to kill Cornerian soldiers under the control of the Aparoids. He hated the thought of having to do that again.
He ducked back behind the wall, attempting to plan his next move. Okay, come on Fox. He mumbled to himself, as though giving a pep talk. You got this. You just gotta figure out what to do. What to do, what to do...He peeked over again, taking note of the environment. A direct approach would mean setting off the alarm. Even if he somehow managed to avoid the two creature's attention, he would never evade the security camera like this. There had to be another way.
His eyes settled on a nearby office. It had two doors, one near him and another at the far side of the hallway, closer to his destination. It looked like it was a conference room of some kind, as he could just barely make out the outline of a long table and a few chairs. The door was ajar. He looked back at the two hybrids. It would be a bit of a risk. If they just happened to turn in his direction, they'd see him. But the camera was -just- out of range. If he did this right, they'd be none the wiser, and he'd be one step closer to being where he needed to be.
He quickly backed off, making sure he was well concealed before consulting his map. Sure enough, that was a conference room. It had only two doors, both of which he had already seen. Unfortunately, there was another risk besides being seen by either of these two creatures. The lights were off in the office, and he could barely see inside. For all he knew, one of those things was waiting for him in there. There might even be another camera. He was taking a big risk. But he could not hesitate now. He had to keep going until he found this doctor. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. Stealth, huh? Not really his strong suit. But he'd do what he had to do.
He peeked around the corner again, taking in the movements of the two hybrids as the camera turned from left to right. At last he spied his opportunity. When their backs were turned, he darted out from his hiding place, ducking into the nearby conference room as fast and as quietly as he could. He practically dove to the floor once inside, just to make sure they didn't see him. He started crawling around carefully, watching and listening for any signs of detection, both from within the room and from without.
Nothing. There was no response whatsoever, and no indication that anyone was in here with him. He let out a quiet breath, grateful for the fact he hadn't been spotted. So far so good.
But that was just step one of the plan. Of course, he could just wait and see what they did, maybe they'd wander off eventually. But there was no telling when that would be. Besides, one of them might decide to enter this office, and that would be bad for Fox. No, he needed to hurry this along. Time was of the essence, and he had no idea how much he had lost when he'd been knocked out. He'd have to ask the doctor about that later.
He just wished he could see in here. That would make things a little easier at least. He'd have to feel things out by hand, groping at whatever he could find.
As if triggered by his thought, his vision was suddenly bathed in green light. His head jerked back, his eyes going wide as his vision changed. He realized that the view he had now was something like night vision, but normally that came with goggles. This was without. So how had he managed this?
The only thing he could think of was those cybernetic implants he had been given. He wasn't entirely sure how they were doing that, but whatever it was, it was working. He could see clearly enough in the darkness now. And even though there was an odd tingling sensation in his eyes, he felt no pain. He hoped that lasted.
He didn't have time to question the matter any further. He looked around the room, searching for something he could use. There were a number of chairs, but they were far too heavy to use effectively, either as a weapon or as a distraction.
That's when he noticed the mug on the table. It still had a little bit of coffee in it, someone must have left it behind. It was left some time ago too, as it was completely cold. But as it turned out, this was just what he needed. Not the coffee. He would drink it, but somehow it didn't feel right, considering the circumstances. For all he knew, the drink was infected with something. No, he had something else in mind.
He picked up the mug, testing its weight. Nice and light. Fortunately it seemed to be ceramic, something that would shatter if struck hard enough. That's exactly what he needed. Had this been made of paper or plastic, it would have been worthless to him. But he had an idea now. It might be a stupid one, but an idea nonetheless.
He glanced at the two hybrids. Their backs were to him still, not paying any attention to him, lost in their own worlds and murmuring to themselves. Fox then looked back down the hallway where he came from. This was it. Do or die time. He drew his arm back, pulling the coffee cup until it was just past his ear...then hurled it down the hall he had came from as hard as he could. It resulted in a loud and satisfying crash, the mug shattering into pieces as it made contact with the floor.
The effect was immediate. The two hybrid whirled around and charged, screaming as they did so. Fox ducked down, hoping that his plan worked. It obviously had gotten their attention, but which way would they go? Would they follow the sound, or would they investigate the conference room first?
Fortunately for him, they went right past him, charging down the hallway with the now coffee-stained floor. One of them was yelling something about restoring the harmony or silencing discord, but it was difficult to make out.
Fox didn't have time to wait and see how far the two hybrids would go. Maybe they'd just keep on running, or maybe they'd stop and turn around after a few moments, but he had to move now. He ran to the far door, the one nearest the camera, then peeked out. The camera gave no reaction to the noise, its view not fixed on the hallway, still turning from left to right. It paused when it focused on Fox's direction, and for a moment he wondered if it might have detected him even through the darkness. But then it slowly began to turn away from him, resuming its predictable pattern of movement.
This was his chance.
He darted out from behind his cover, escaping the darkness of his hiding place and rushing toward the camera at a breakneck pace. His footfalls sounded deafening in his ears, and all he could imagine was the Hybrid taking note and barreling back in here, weapons drawn. The camera slowly began to turn back, but he managed to slip under it just in time. He didn't stop moving, just kept running until they were all far behind him.
His pace slowed after he reached a certain distance, and after sending a few furtive glances in the direction he came from, he stopped running altogether, instead moving at the pace of a brisk walk. After all, there was no telling what other dangers might lurk ahead. Somehow, he highly doubted that those two things he had just left behind were the only threats on this deck. That and the camera. He suspected that was just one of many. In truth, there was no telling what sort of security the ship might have or just how extensive it was. Cameras, sensors, other automated defenses. He'd have to keep an eye out and try not to clumsily set off any alarms. That was the last thing he needed.
It only occurred to him now that if he had to double back, he'd have no way past those two hybrids should they have returned. The hall beyond that camera was mostly empty, just a floor stretching on to the rest of the medical ward. There were no hiding places or easily reached distractions lying around. He wasn't sure how he was going to get out. Well, he'd just have to deal with one problem at a time as they came up. For now, he needed to focus on finding doctor Kline.
He didn't have to check the map this time to know his current location. There were a few signs, one of them pointing to a door on the right that was labeled as the operating theater. He was close! Things seemed to be looking up. He couldn't help but note that the pristine condition of the environment here. No dirt or grime gathering on the walls, no evidence of weapons fire. The place was well kept, and if he didn't know better, he'd think it were untouched. Now he just had to find the doctor.
Fox found himself at a bit of a crossroad. To his left was the floor of the surgical ward. Since he hadn't found Doctor Kline so far, that was likely where he was, though Fox couldn't imagine what it was he was doing in there. It didn't seem to be the ideal time to perform a surgery. To his right was the observation wing, where the medical staff and students could observe the doctor at his work. It would seem that either direction was just as feasible as the oither. On the one hand, he could go to the observation room first and peer inside, see what was down there before charging in. After all, he didn't know what was inside the theater. On the other hand...
Actually, he couldn't think of anything. It seemed like the smart choice was to take a peek up there, then investigate the other wing after making sure the room was secure. If he had his blaster, maybe he would just charge right in. But at the moment, all he had was that medical scalpel, and that wasn't much of a weapon. With that, he'd made up his mind. He turned to the right, pressing the button panel on the door, which lit up as he activated it. The door soon slid open.
There was a short ramp here that curved to the left, with a banister provided for support. As he ascended the ramp, he kept his eyes open for any traps or security measures that he might have missed. So far, he didn't see anything. Which was good.
Upon ascending, Fox found himself in a room illuminated by dim lights on the ceiling. There were a few rows of chairs, set up in a manner similar to a holo-film theater, though he hadn't been to one of those in years. They were crammed together with small armrests, the kind that two people couldn't possibly use at the same time. There also wasn't a lot of room in front or behind each row of chairs, save for those nearest and farthest from the operating room below.
Once again, Fox was struck by how ordinary it looked. There really wasn't anything wrong here, the place was in great condition. The lights were dim, of course, though he suspected that was intentional and by design, likely to ensure that the audience had a clear view of the proceedings below, much like how movie theater lights tended to be either dim or off. It wasn't an indicator of something being wrong.
The lighting was poor, and he could barely see anything. For some reason, the night vision that had activated earlier was no longer working. He tried to get it to turn on, but he simply didn't know how. He didn't know how he got it working in the first place. Maybe it required a certain level of darkness, as it wasn't completely dark in here, just dim.
He almost didn't notice that there was someone in the room with him. Fox jerked back, reaching for that scalpel almost by instinct, his fingers enclosing about the weapon. But the figure didn't move.
The person, whoever he was, was seated at the very front of the theater, head bowed and hunched forward. Judging by the outline, he appeared to be some kind of bird with dark red feathers, a cardinal if he had to guess. The bird never reacted to Fox's presence, gave no indication that he even knew Fox was there.
Something seemed off about this, and Fox didn't like it one bit. He approached the man cautiously. He didn't call out or ask anything, as he didn't know whether the person was "normal" or not. It might be one of those things that had attacked him earlier. If it was, he had no intention of alerting it to his presence. He crept up to it slowly, so slowly, his scalpel clutched tightly in his right hand.
All of the hybrids that he had seen thus far had those strange worm like things attached to their heads, the other end buried in their chest, their back, or even their neck. As far as Fox could tell, this guy didn't have one, at least not on the surface. He wondered if the things could be hidden underneath.
Even if the person wasn't infected with one of those worms, that didn't immediately dismiss him as a threat. And Fox felt a whole lot less confident without his blaster at his side, so he was going to approach this with a degree of caution..
The bird never stirred as Fox approached, even as he got within touching distance. Fox stood there for a moment, gazing down at the red-feathered male and looking him over. He was wearing a surgical gown, including the cap that they often wore to prevent hair, fur, or feathers from contaminating the surgical process. In fact, he was even wearing those goggles he had seen doctors wear, the kind that allowed them to amplify or enhance imagery, allowing them to zoom in and make more delicate, precise procedures. He must have been a surgeon, he was certainly dressed like one. Could it be Doctor Kline?
Fox decided to take a risk. The bird hadn't stirred an inch, and didn't even seem to be breathing. Fox had a hunch. So he cautiously put his fingers to the bird's neck, holding his scalpel up, ready to act in a moment's notice. As his fingers pressed against his veins, feeling for a pulse, Fox's fears were confirmed.
Whoever this was, he was dead.
From the side Fox approached from, the man had seemed perfectly fine, no indication of what had killed him. This marked the third body he had found thus far on this mission. In all cases, they had no trace of that...whatever that was that the "Hybrids" had. Their fur and flesh hadn't been stripped from parts of their bodies; there were no worms or any other signs of being infested with those things. Of course, there could be something inside that he couldn't see, he could only base his conclusions on what he saw on the surface. But this corpse was like the others. Whatever had killed him, it wasn't the same infection that had taken the 'hybrids,' though it was still possible he could have been killed by someone else infected.
Still, he was just sitting here. He wasn't sprawled out or clutching a wound or anything like that. It seemed strange to him. The surgeon's beak was open, his eyes rolled up. By now, Fox found himself in front of the bird, looking him over for any signs. A blaster scorch, evidence of blunt trauma, severe burns, anything that might provide a clue as to what happened here. But there was nothing. He shook his head and sighed. The man was dead, but he had no idea who he was or what had killed him.
He was just about to pull away when he noticed something odd. There was a little marking on him, just below the surgeon's cap. Blinking, Fox reached for it, tracing it with one finger. It looked like it went around the surgeon's head, disappearing beneath the protective cap. Frowning, he gave the cap a little tug, prying it off of the bird's head.
He gasped at what he found. There were stitches all around the bird's cranium. He didn't have to be a doctor to know that someone had given him an operation. A lobotomy, by the looks of it. And the bird had evidently not survived the procedure.
"Oh god..." Fox mumbled to himself. He could hardly believe what he was seeing! A lobotomized corpse in the middle of this mess! It looked as though it had come straight out of a nightmare. Who could have done this?! Why?!
He could feel his heartbeat elevating, his breath coming out a little shakier. He was unnerved by this. And worse, he hadn't the faintest idea who was responsible. When he recovered enough of his wits to take a closer look at the bird, he realized that he may have a clue.
The bird had a PDA attached to his wrist, and just like with the nurse he found earlier, the light was blinking. He was really getting the hang of this now, able to access it quite easily with his own device. There was another audio log, dated just a few days ago. Nothing else since then. He looked around to make sure there was no one hanging around nearby. The room was still. Nothing stirred. He approached the door, pressing the panel to the side to make it slide shut. That would help keep the noise in here contained. Once he was certain it was safe, he pressed the button to play the message. A voice he had never heard before filled his ears, one that he presumed belonged to the doctor. His voice was calm, though a bit strained. He sounded as though he'd been dealing with something stressful for an extended period of time. He spoke in a precise and distinguished manner.
"I've not made one of these in a while. It's been so busy lately, I just haven't had the time. But I feel as though if I do not do so now, I may not get another chance for a very long time. I feel I must record at least some of my thoughts here. Matters would seem to be growing...desperate."
"It all started a few days ago. A few complaints were logged from crewmen requesting medication, some even wishing for an exam. The symptoms were...unusual for a virus. There were headaches, though this is not uncommon. The other symptoms, however..."
While the doctor spoke, Fox busied himself with searching for any key cards or other useful information on what he presumed must be his corpse. Unfortunately, he couldn't find anything of note. All he had was the clothes he was wearing and the PDA, which didn't have any keys or passwords on it. That was unfortunate. And while this message from beyond the grave was certainly interesting, it didn't seem to be doing much in the way of helping Fox, at least not directly, which was a pity. It would mean he'd have to look around to find that key. He'd never leave this deck without it.
The doctor's voice carried on. "All of the crew involved reported auditory hallucinations. Not only that, but the hallucinations were remarkably similar in nature. All of them involved hearing voices, and a great many of them at that.. Loud and harmonious singing. Feelings of terror mixed with pleasure. In addition, several of them reported blackouts. They would be in one place, then find themselves in another, with no memory of how they got there. A few of them even suggested that there were moments where they did things and did not know why. As though they were compelled by something. More disturbing, some have grown rather aggressive. Violent. Two of my staff have already been wounded by irate patients. And it's getting worse."
"Normally, I would ascribe this to something beyond physical health. I would suggest that their mental or emotional well being has deteriorated and that they need to see a specialist. If it were just one person, I would stand by this opinion. If it were a handful, I'd find it a remarkable coincidence. If it were a couple of dozen, I would suspect it to be some kind of conspiracy. But with nearly half the crew experiencing the same hallucinations, headaches, blackouts, and personality shifts all at the same time..."
Fox heard an audible sigh emanate from the recording. He could practically feel the deep frustration coming from the deceased bird. Eventually, the voice continued.
"I've never known a disease to cause these symptoms. Yet within a few more day's time, I am certain that the majority of those aboard the Von Dross will be affected. What happened? Did someone bring something aboard? Did we stop somewhere recently, somewhere we should not have? I'd say I should know this, but we're so busy down here most of the time that we're lucky to know what day it is."
Fox's ears suddenly flitted up, his body stiffening as he heard something. His head whirled to the side, listening closely for any sign of an intruder. He could have sworn that he heard something just now, a thud not far from where he was. A footfall perhaps? He wasn't sure. Was it from the other side of the door? Maybe it was from the recording.
The recording played on. "Additionally, it's beginning to affect my staff. A number of my colleagues have been transferred to Hydroponics for God knows why, and several others are also reporting similar symptoms to our patients. We're understaffed as it is, and we don't even know what is causing this, let alone how to fight it."
Fox fixed his gaze upon the door, his ears at full attention and listening for every sound. He never heard anything else, and he was beginning to wonder if he had heard anything at all. He hoped this audio log had some clue as to where the keycard was. He was getting very nervous about all this.
"To make matters worse, Draco, my assistant, is becoming...problematic. He is beginning to show signs, though I am more concerned with his case than others. He has always been a bit neurotic, but I've always believed he will make a good surgeon himself one day. He's very talented, very intelligent. However, his emotional health appears to be deteriorating at an alarming rate. He has grown increasingly hostile and violent in his behavior, nearly coming to blows with other members of the staff, and he claims he must drown out the voices, silence the song. I do not know what he means by this, but I fear it is something drastic."
Once again finding himself really wishing he had his blaster, Fox slowly maneuvered himself toward the entrance, keeping his body pressed against the walls of the operating theater as he did so. He spared a glance down into the surgical room. The lights in the operating room were dark, revealing nothing. If someone was here, he saw no evidence of them. Maybe his ears were playing tricks on him. The audio log finally came to its conclusion.
"I have no idea how to proceed. We are facing a ship-wide breakout of mass psychosis. I have no idea what we're dealing with or what's causing it, and I certainly don't know how to treat it. I've ordered my assistant to confine himself to quarters. The number of cases grow by the day, both in volume and intensity. We don't have the resources or personnel to deal with this, and I have already urged the captain to declare a ship-wide emergency."
"This is a crisis. And until we figure out precisely what's causing this, it's only going to get worse. I shall record any further developments or observations. Perhaps I will be able to identify the source of this bizarre infection. This is Doctor Warbler Kline signing off." There was a quiet beeping noise that apparently signified the end of the recording, then all was silent.
While that certainly had filled in some blanks as to what happened here, it brought Fox no closer to getting out. He needed that keycard. Kline didn't have it. That meant Fox would have to find it somewhere else. Fox pressed the door panel, the door sliding open in response. He scanned the room, searching for any signs of an intruder. There was nothing there. It was exactly as he left it.
He took a cautious step forward, leaving the operating theater. He was on edge the entire time, slowly making his way downward, holding the scalpel in front of him. When he reached the bottom of the ramp, he let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. He was all jumpy now.
It looked as though he was alone. Maybe it had just been a false alarm. Maybe the noise come from the recording, or maybe Fox had just imagined it. Maybe he was jumping at shadows.
Unfortunately, one of the shadows took that moment to jump at him.
"Let's get you prepped!"
Those hissed words were the only warning Fox had before he felt someone's arm lock around his neck. He gasped, struggling against the unseen assailant. He had somehow gotten behind Fox! He was only able to struggle for a moment when he felt something enclose around his muzzle, and even in the dim light he recognized what it was. It was for giving patients anesthesia. He struggled not to breath, not wanting to inhale whatever it was that his assailant was trying to pump into his system, all the while fighting back, trying to get out of the man's grasp. It was a futile effort, though. His lungs ached, burned with the need for more oxygen. He fought it for as long as he could, thrashing in the assailant's grip, which only caused him to burn through what breath he had left even faster.
"Don't fight it...it's going to be okay. Relax..." The voice continued. Whoever it belonged to, it sounded masculine. There was a touch of friendliness in the tone, as if he meant what he was saying. But Fox knew if the guy had any noble intentions, he wouldn't be trying to gas him from behind.
Eventually, Fox just couldn't hold his breath anymore. His mouth parted, and he took a deep gulp of air despite his senses screaming at him not to. And suddenly the world felt so very far away, like none of it mattered anymore. He felt himself slipping, the darkness at the corner of his vision now gaining control. He'd been caught off guard by an enemy twice today. Sloppy.
As the darkness overwhelmed him, he wondered if this would be the last time.