Marissa hung from the cold metal wall, her matted hair in front of her eyes. The corridor was dimly lit anyway, so seeing them when they came would have been impossible. She took a deep breath, grimacing as pain erupted from her right side, and she knew that the ribs there were either cracked or broken.
She arched her back painfully, her cramped muscles straining against the thick plasti-goop that held her wrists and hands, and knees and ankles immobile. It had been hours since she had been left there, hanging two feet above the floor, and she was finally making the transition from anger and defiance to fear and despair.
*****
Lt. Marissa Greck stood at attention, her duffel on the floor next to her. Her wavy chestnut hair was pulled into a regulation ponytail, her green eyes bright with excitement, her full red lips pressed together tightly. She had a thin face with a strong chin, a slender, fit body with full hips and large, round breasts, and a flawless complexion of cafe au lait. Her dark blue uniform was snug, almost form-fitting, and her StarForce insignia gleamed.
"Lt. Greck, reporting for duty!"
The much older, overweight Chief standing at ease in front of her ran his tongue over his lips and touched his finger to his electronic clipboard. "Welcome, Lieutenant," he rumbled, turning and walking out of the shuttle bay.
Marissa snatched up her duffel and raced to catch him. The gravity on the station was fractionally higher than she was used to, and it felt like she was wearing a suit of armor. She caught up with the Chief in the corridor and struggled to keep pace.
"Shouldn't I report to the Commander?" Marissa panted.
"Yah," the Chief grumbled, "But she's too busy right now. We've got a situation."
As they were on the Flight Level, they soon came to a door marked "Pilot Quarters, B-6". The Chief tapped the console and after the door silently slipped into the wall, stepped through the doorway and into a long corridor.
Marissa saw call signs painted on each of the doors she passed, a name and rank listed in smaller type below. A little more than halfway down the Chief stopped, and Marissa saw that the door next to him had been freshly stripped and bore only a piece of old-fashioned tape with "Lt. Greck" in black pen.
"Stow your gear," the Chief said, tossing his thumb at her door. He touched his clipboard again and hurried away.
*****
Marissa pulled again at her bonds, feeling the sweat running down her body. Her shoulders were screaming with pain, and it hurt just to breathe.
She looked down at her torn, filthy uniform and noticed for the first time that her insignia was missing. She felt tears fill her eyes.
Marissa heard a soft scraping sound to her left and gasped. She craned her neck to locate the source, but it was somewhere in the darkness. Combat training be damned, Marissa closed her eyes and went limp.
*****
After stowing her gear in her tight, on-board quarters, Marissa checked herself in the small oval mirror above her tiny steel sink. Adjusting her insignia, she patted her uniform and headed out to meet the boys.
The lounge was at the end of the corridor, where it was on all StarForce bases. She went inside and looked around. In the corner four Lieutenants played cards and smoked cigars, two more sat watching a tri-vid, and another sat at a table talking to a Captain.
The Captain was female, with a shaved head and the darkest skin Marissa had ever seen. She approached the table and stood at attention.
"Lt. Marissa Greck, reporting to the Captain," she barked. The Captain stood and shook her hand. Her eyes were large and dark, with barely a hint of white at the corners. When she smiled, the effect was dazzling as her big shining white teeth contrasted sharply with her black, almost blue complexion.
"At ease, Lieutenant," the Captain said. "What's your sign?"
"Pointer, Ma'am," Marissa responded as her body relaxed. Call signs were given to new pilots based on their most familiar traits, in or out of the cockpit. They were frequently embarrassing, and often derogatory. Marissa claimed hers was because she always took point when flying, but her training group knew it had more to do with the ice planet they had trained on, and her body's natural reaction to the cold.
"'Kay, Pointer, I'm Captain Lenstrom, call sign "Ink". If you have any problems let me know."
"I will, Ma'am. The Chief that I reported to said there was a situation on board?"
"Yeah," Ink said, sitting again. "A patrol found an artifact floating in an asteroid field nearby. They brought it back and popped a probe into it and found biological matter inside. Sciences locked it down, and we're on a Stage 4 alert to protect against contamination," she said, and then with a broad smile continued, "Nothing to worry about."
"I'm Jugs," the little blond Lieutenant at the table said with a smile, and it took no imagination at all to see where she had gotten her sign. "I was assigned here two months ago, so I remember what it's like to be the newbie."
Marissa smiled and reached to shake Jug's hand, when she heard a thunderous roar and found herself in a heap on the floor. The room was dark, and voices called out around her.
"What the hell?"
"Buzzer! What's going on?"
"Anyone hurt?" Marissa heard Ink call out. She listened to seven negative responses before remembering to add her own.
She pushed herself to her hands and knees and carefully stood. She felt for the table, and when she didn't find it immediately she froze, not wanting to run into anyone or anything in the stygian darkness.
She felt a hand close on her breast and squeeze softly, and felt the presence of someone large in front of her. "May I help you?" she asked quietly.
"Nah," a deep voice rumbled, and Marissa smelled the cigar on his breath. "Just looking for the door," he said, but it was a moment later before the grasping hand moved from her breast.
There was a flash and Marissa looked over to see that someone had ignited a cigar-lighter. She looked back and saw one of the card players, a very tall and handsome card player, standing close in front of her. He smiled and said, "Fitz".
Marissa smiled back and said "Pointer". Fitz turned and made his way to the door, reaching it just as the emergency lighting kicked in.
Ink stood in the center of the room and barked, "Fitz, take your group to Command and see what's going on. Buzzer, take your group to Power and see if you can lend a hand. Jugs and Pointer form up on me." She reached the door just as Fitz forced it open, and the three raced down the corridor.
Pointer was having a hell of a time keeping up due to the gravity, but she wasn't going to slack off and give Ink a bad impression of her. They exited the B Quarters and ran along the larger main corridor against the flow of the other crew.
Pointer was jostled by a crewman and spun into the wall, losing sight of Ink and Jugs. In a panic, she pushed and shoved her way through and saw Jugs entering a side corridor ahead. When she reached it, the corridor was empty.
Pointer walked quickly up the deserted corridor, checking each door she passed. She was nearly at the end when the station lurched, sending her sprawling across the floor. She heard screams and shouting as the station rumbled, and screamed herself when she plummeted to the ceiling.
She landed on her shoulder with a crash, feeling her arm smash up into her side. She lay gasping on the ceiling for a moment, and as she brought her arms under her to stand the station shuddered again and she tumbled to the floor, her head smacking the metal surface.
She heard only her own breathing and her heartbeat in her ears as darkness descended.
*****
The darkness in the corridor seemed to move, to grow, and Marissa watched the creature appear through slitted eyes. It was like the ones that had hung her there, black, and it looked like a roach or beetle had been crossed with a human. It stood five feet tall on thick, hairy black stalks and had a chitinous abdomen and thorax. The arms matched the leg stalks, ending in four pincer-like fingers. The head was set onto the shoulders and had large black eyes and the mouth consisted of four interlocking jaws set with small, knife-like teeth.
It moved like a bug, slowly at first, and then in a flash it was on her, hanging from the wall by its claws and feet, its face pressing to her cheek. Marissa willed herself calm, determined to play dead. She heard a sighing sound from its thorax, and the creature scuttled over her and onto the ceiling before continuing down the corridor.
*****
Pointer pushed herself up onto her hands and shook her head. It hurt like hell, but then so did most of her body. She had no idea how many flip-flops the station had put her through, but it felt like she had been tumbling in an old fashioned laundry machine. The lighting was dim, and there were no more screams, no calls for help.
She stood and staggered painfully down the corridor, when she heard a sound from behind the door at the end. She had lost all sense of direction, but she knew she was still on the Flight level. She pressured the door open a few inches manually, and heard the distinct report of pistol fire. Looking through the crack she had made she moaned softly.
The bay beyond held crates containing replacement parts for the fighters and support craft, stacked to the high ceiling. They were mostly orderly, but a few cases had been pulled down to provide cover. The floor was red with blood, streaked with a luminescent green, and she could make out scores of twisted bodies, some human, more some sort of big black bug.
