Half an Hour Ago:

“All security officers, please report. There is a riot forming in Habitat PV-08. I repeat, All security officers...” The voice crackles out over the RIGlink.

It was a normal day cycle on the station, and Victoria Frost sighs as she sits up. Finishing her mug of Insta-Joe coffee, Frost stands up.

“Ugh... God damn it. And here I was hoping I could actually finish my coffee for once without any interruptions.”

The message continues to repeat on her RIGlink, audio only, until it’s interrupted by a video message. The picture of a red-haired and freckled guy greets her, the face of her current direct superior for Habitat PV-09, her work patrol.

“Hey, Frosty, looks like we get to work together again!” Johan’s voice says, a background of a mess hall full of humans and ponies behind him. “Aren’t you so lucky?”

“Music to my ears,” she mutters sarcastically before downing the last bit of her coffee.

“I know it is, gorgeous, now get down here, I had to give up my lunch break for this, so let’s stop by the armory together. We’re being authorized those fancy-pants riot suits Command paid for with our bonuses last year. At least we can finally find out if they were worth it.” Johan says. “Anyhow, the tram’ll be near you soon, so I’ll see you at the station.”

“Yeah yeah, I heard ya,” she said, waving an arm lazily at the holographic projection. “See ya there.”

He nods, and the RIGlink cuts off.

“Those damn suits better come with a coffeemaker...” she groaned, wiping away the remains of her sleep from her eyes as she began her routine. From her desk she kissed her index and middle finger and then placed them on the glasses frame where the image of her mother and father holding a young child are set, frozen in time.

“Just a little longer till I’m back home Dad...”

Shrugging on her work underclothes, and stepping into the halls, Frost walks down to the tram station, and sits for a minute or so, as the yellow, blocky tram shows up. Along with Frost is several other officers she recognizes, including Sergeant Manning, a gruff guy who is probably older than her twice over.

Also in there is Empty Night, a Nightwing pony officer that joined about the same time as Frost. He’s a nice guy, but a little awkward around females. He just never seems to know what to say around anything with a pair of X chromosomes. Other than that, he’s the group’s EVA specialist.

Night looks over at Victoria. “Hello, madame Frost.” He says, in his normal, oddly formal tones. “I don’t suppose I could tempt you into the ways of Unitology, yet?” His normal greeting is reassuring, even if just as annoying the first time he asked.

Without hesitation she held up her hand to stop him. “I’ve told you this a million times Night, no.” Her hand recoiled back down to her side and she continued onward to her post. On the tram is, of course, Johan, in all his ginger glory, snapping to a lazy salute at Sergeant Manning as Victoria, the Sergeant, and Night all got on.

“Alright, Frosty, let’s get to the armory. Sarge, if you’ll do the honors.” Johan says, and Manning grunts, then types in his key-code to get to the Armory. Minutes of silence later, the tram slots into place, and the security officers file into the Armory. Manning, Johan, and Empty Night all suit up, and then it is Victoria’s turn.

She steps into the booth, and the metal doors close shut behind her with a resounding bang. Robotic arms with sensors on the ends fold out of slots in the walls, and scan over Frost, as she unclothes. Taking the jacket and her pants, they are sent to the AutoStore repository while the underclothes are sent to be recycled, and the fitting begins.

The mechanical arms fold out again, this time fitting layers of the suit’s under materials onto her, the black fabric-like sheets fitting to her snugly. The next layers fit over it, and are secured to it, forming armored sections and layering tight, bullet- and knife-proof materials over her vitals and major muscle clusters. Along with this goes the RIG’s connective points, and enhancement nodes, allowing the RIG to retain integrity and seal minor holes even in zero atmosphere.

Finally are the actual armor sections, pieces of metal and ceramic interlocking to form sections designed to withstand additional pressure, the matte black enamel coatings on the armor designating her as F071, and listing her squad number as 71 as well. The belt and boot cover slot into place, and the neck ring fits on last, anchoring the RIG in place.

Victoria listens as the RIG starts up, and synchronizes with her biorhythms, and reaches up to the collar, tugging at it in a futile attempt to loosen it a bit.

The doors clang open again, and the mission clock on her holodisplay says that suit application began a mere four seconds previous.

Stepping out, she gets a good look at herself in the holographic display opposite her, which acts as both a diagnostics viewer and a mirror. The suit... actually looks pretty cool. The helmet is still down, but she’s never particularly liked it, even when trying to synch with her weapons.

“So, Frosty, how does the new suit feel to you?” Johan asks, smile on his face.

“It’s a bit bulky to be honest,” she says turning around to see the back, “But it’ll definitely work- I just wish it had a coffee maker.”

Johan laughs. “Yeah, that’d be pretty sweet, but where the hell would we keep the grounds?”

“Hell if I know,” she laughed.

Laughing and joking along the way, Victoria and Johan pick up their weapons.

“So what’s the intel on this riot?”

Sergeant Manning, in his snug new suit, turns to Victoria. “Apparently some sort of religious thing happened. A buncha Unitologists all went crazy together. Now,” he continued, raising a hand to Night, “I’m not saying all Unitologists are crazy, just that this group went sour. Apparently, they started off getting ready to suicide, and something went wrong. Now, they’re killing people, so we’re going to stop them.”

Victoria carefully selects her beloved Seeker Rifle, Jackie, along with forty rounds of ammunition. She also puts the regulation Divet pistol onto her holster clip, the sidearm snapping into place with a distinct click.

She looks up to see that Johan has a SWS Pulse Rifle, and Night has a pair of them loaded onto his battle saddle. Sergeant Manning also has one, clipped to the small of his back, and is holding his Divet.

“Alright, officers, move out!” Manning shouts, and the three members of Squad 71 get moving.

Now silent as they move towards the riot, the group is totally serious. Sweeping each doorway and side hall as they pass, it’s Empty Night who speaks first.

“By the marker... what happened here?” He whispers, and Johan turns as well.

“What the fuck?” Johan says, and the Sergeant and Frost turn as well. Looking into the somewhat open doors of the mess hall they’d been dispatched towards, they can only see red inside. The lights from their suits and their guns provide enough illumination to see that the walls and floor is coated in blood, and there are numerous drag marks leading out from the doors, all in blood or worse.

[Area Theme]

“Oh jeez,” Victoria said, plugging her nose. “Smells aweful!”

Sergeant Manning replies with a quiet, “Toggle helmets, it’ll keep most of the smell out.” The team all do so, the metal and ceramic plates sliding into place around their faces, the energy barrier coming up to keep in the atmosphere.

The stench roils and seems to move of its own accord, the smell twisting into the suits in spite of their environmental locks, and all the humans in the group gag. Night, from behind his mask, says, “For once, I am glad to be reminded that my species has no gag reflex. Vomiting sounds most unpleasant right now.”

“You can say that again.” Johan replies. “Alright, I’ll take point. Frost, you cover me, incase they’re still in there.”

Manning switches his Divet for his Pulse Rifle, and motions for Empty Night to follow him. “We’re going to check the other exit, keep in RIG contact, and watch each other’s backs. I haven’t seen anything like this in my whole career, and frankly, I’ll be glad if I never see it again.”

“Man... what the hell happened?” Victoria says aloud to herself, readying Jackie. “It looks like a huge massacre.”

“No clue, Frost. Stay sharp.” Johan replies, stepping in and turning right, away from the near wall. “Oh, holy shit. you think it looks bad from out there? Step on in.”

“I’m gonna regret this...” she says to herself as she stands and eases herself inside, her trigger finger ready. What meets her inside, though, is atrocious. Bodies practically carpet the mess hall, scattered food and chunks of what is assumedly human and pony bodies litter the ground. On one of the near tables, the remains of a human lays, throat slashed and half her torso missing, along with her left leg.

Near the back, a pile of corpses rests, and Johan jerks his pulse rifle towards it when something in it shifts. A quadrupedal shape, looking like an injured pegasus, stands up shakily, several wounds visible in the poor thing’s back and sides, the shredded remnants of a wing barely holding to the shoulder joint.

Frost’s eyes widen at the sign of life in the bloody scene, but holds up her rifle in suspicion. “Who are you?”

The pegasus turns around, and Frost sees a broken jaw hanging off its face, only held on by sinew and skin. Unnaturally sharp teeth fill the upper palate, and hate filled eyes bore into hers. The thing bellows hoarsely, and charges towards Johan, the broken wing revealing itself to be twisted into some sort of boney blade, and he shouts as it swings, nearly hitting him dead on.

“Johan!” she shouts, quickly pulling her rifle’s trigger, sending bullets through the dismantled figure. The creature barks wetly, a spray of blood and gore splashing onto Johan as the Seeker Shells blow apart chunks of the creature’s back, Victoria’s fabled marksmanship failing her in her panic.

The creature smashes into Johan, knocking him down, as its forehooves split open, claw-like appendages bursting out and grabbing Johan by the chest. The wing-bone-blade whips forward, stabbing into the deck plates beneath Johan, only his quick head movement saving him.

“Shoot it! Shoot it Victoria!” Johan pleads, the creature spewing more black-and-red blood onto his faceplate and chest. He punches at it, but this only knocks its head off, which doesn’t seem to do much to it.

Frost doesn’t hesitate, aiming for the chest where the heart would be located. Putting two shots expertly into the creature, the torso explodes in a gush of gore and shredded organs, the creature sliding off to the side.

Johan pushes the creature off and rolls away, grabbing his pulse rifle and scanning around. Another hoarse bellow greets his and Frost’s ears as Johan tries to call the Sergeant.

A group of the creatures, mostly ponies, shamble in through the door the two humans entered through, each displaying grievous wounds that don’t seem to slow them much. One has its ribcage completely open, the the ribs themselves pointing straight out, a pair of claws erupting from its back. Another pony-corpse is standing on its hind legs, its two forelimbs split open, with gigantic blades of bone sticking out of them, and a set of arms reaching from the creature’s opened belly.

The lights in the mess hall flicker.

Johan, pointing his rifle at the oncoming horde, yells to Victoria. “Start backing up! We need to get out of here! We’ve got to find the Sergeant and Night, and regroup!” He begins firing in tight, controlled bursts at the legion of monsters.

“What that fuck are these things!” she shouts, shooting the moving targets as she races to another exit. “I don’t know, just keep moving, Frosty!” Is the reply.

The two of them slowly back out of the room, Victoria sweeping the outside as she goes through, though there’s thankfully none there. Johan kicks the door as he backs out of the mess hall, and it closes with a whoosh. Turning around, he looks out one of the windows as a shadow passes over it.

Victoria turns to look in time to see the thing making the shadow, a creature that looks like it’s formed from nothing but a human torso and long scorpion tail, goes scuttling past at blinding speed.

And it’s outside the window, in space.

She crouches down, readying her gun. “What the fuck is going on?! This is no fucking riot!”

Johan shakes his head, unsure of where the creature went. “I have no fucking clue, Victoria, please stop asking. It’s like something out of a horror movie. Oh, shit.”

“Well, what do you expect!” she then quiets at the sound of movement from the vents. a loud bang from the door makes them both jump as they look at it, a large dent in the metal.

“Shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit!” Johan says, pointing out the window, “Gimme a minute, I need to call my friends, I need to make sure they don’t go to the Manehattan!”

“Oh no! One loud noise and these things’ll be on us like maggots on a dead body!” Victoria whispers furiously.

“You should be making a call, too, shouldn’t you? I doubt these things are going to stick around here, and your home is just a hop, skip and a jump away from here!” Johan hisses back, cueing his RIGlink.

“Oh no!” she whispers, whirling around in the direction of her home. “Dad!”

Forgetting her own advice, she quickly comms her father, the caretaker picking up almost instantly.

“Sarah!” she says quietly, “Get my dad! Hurry!”

She can hear Johan speaking softly into his RIGlink, but it’s audio only. “Guys, it’s not just a riot, some sort of monsters are involved.” He starts talking louder as something bursts from one of the ceiling vents, and he begins shooting at it. “Don’t go to the Manehattan, I repeat, don’t go to the Manehattan, it’s Crawling with them all over! Get somewh-!”

Sarah tries responding, but Victoria can’t hear her over the gunfire. She looks over in time to see the creature made of half a human leap onto Johan, its tail whipping about as it bite at his shoulder.

“Fuck!” Frost screams, taking her rifle and pulling the trigger, hitting the thing at the base of the tail, the low explosive round severing the appendage entirely. The creature screams and rears back, raising a clawed arm towards Johan.

Johan puts the muzzle of his SWS to its face and blasts a trio of rounds through the creature’s head, causing it to fall off, writhing. He rolls and puts several more rounds into the creature.

“Look out!” Johan cries, as something slams into Frost’s back, and she sees a sharp talon jutting from her shoulder. She screams in agony and twists away, the talon breaking off from whatever creature had it with a dry crackling sound.

She looks back to see a man, twisted and broken into a shape like the first pony creature, a pair of arms reaching from its back, though one of the talons is missing, having relocated to her shoulder. Johan’s pulse rifle blows apart its chest in a flurry of bullets, but there’s more behind both it and in the other direction.

“Victoria, there’s a lift over there, get to the second floor and get into the maintenance shaft!”

“What about you?!” she shouts, switching to her Divet and firing bullets at the creatures, ignoring the pain in her shoulder.

“I’ll be right behind you, don’t worry. I couldn’t possibly deprive you of my beautiful face just yet!” Johan replies, reloading after launching a grenade into a mass of the creatures.

“You’re so full of shit, you know that!” she says, rushing towards the shaft.

“But it’s beautiful shit, so it’s alright. Now get up there, there should be an elevator that’ll get you to the tram station. I’ll see you there!” Johan quips, as the lift Victoria is on rises to the second floor, leaving Johan behind.

The floor seemed quiet, most of the creatures must have been on the first floor.

“You better not die down there Johan...” she muttered, starting her com again.

“Sarah!”

“Victoria, what’s going on?” she asked, worriedly.

“I-” she hesitated and took a breath. “I don’t know. But you need to get out of the house and find somewhere safe.”

“Why? what’s going on?” her voice raised.

“Just listen to me alright!” Victoria whispered angrily. a noise followed her angry outburst and she looked around quickly for any sign of life.

“Just trust me okay?” she says, more calm now. “Tell my dad I love him and-”

Frost cuts off as something hammers on the door over the RIGlink. “Just a minute, Victoria, there’s someone at the door. I’ll call you back in a second.”

“No! Sarah! Don’t-!” It was too late, as Sarah had already closed the link. Damnit, I need to get to the tram station, and fast. I’ve gotta get home.

Victoria stands, carefully, and gingerly pulls the talon from her left shoulder. The Riot Suit, thankfully, seals the wound right away, preventing her from bleeding too heavily, and the hole in the suit itself, so at least she wouldn’t have to worry about depressurized zones.

Looking down the narrow corridor, the path entirely unlit save for her helmet lamp and the Divet’s built-in flashlight, Victoria steels herself for the trek to the station.

“Alright, if I came from the mess hall then the elevator should be just past the fourth side-passage or door, I think. Not too far, at least.” She started up her RIGlink again with no answer.

“That’s not good...” taking in a breath she readied her gun and pressed forward, her steps as silent as she could manage in the bulky suit.

Sneaking along the small passage, she is forced to step over some kind of rancid gunk, possibly the remains of a worker that was gotten to by those creatures while up here. continuing on, she finds more and more of the strange mass, but finally find the door to the elevator she needs, with a “Perpendicular Gravity” warning on it, indicating it turned sideways to travel faster, as if falling, making one ‘wall’ actually the floor.

She keys the elevator, and the doors slide open, her movements careful as she adjusts to the new gravity. The doors slide shut, and she hits a the button labeled ‘Tramway Station’. With a soft whoosh, the elevator begins moving, though the only noticeable indicator is the exterior lights, barely visible through a slit window, flashing past.

Finally, she arrives at the tram station, and the door slides open again, onto a scene of horror. The walls and floor of the tram are coated in gore, just like the mess hall, and the tram is sitting, open, nearby. crawling from the elevator, Victoria looks around at the destruction, broken lights and hanging chunks of the ceiling indicating where things crawled from the vents, and bodies lay everywhere.

The tram, normally yellow, has hand and hoof prints in blood on its walls, where ponies and humans alike tried to get in, only to be slaughtered before it could get moving. the stench of death, the reek of burst entrails bruns into Victorias nose through the suit, and she has to fight mightily to suppress her need to vomit.

One thing stands out in the wreckage, however, a single small medi-gel cylinder, which she carefully picks up and adds to her suit, telling it to inject immediately.

“Looks like shit hit the fan here too...” she gulps before shaking her head. “Gotta get home, gotta get home...”

Stepping onto the tram, she looks back at the station. “Damnit, Johan, where the hell are you?” She tries her RIG, but gets nothing but static. “Fuck...”

She turns to the tram, and hits the buttons that’ll send it to the station near her home. Sitting for several minutes in the stinking tram, Victoria frets over what might’ve happened, and tells herself that her dad is alright.

The tram, at last, gets to her home station, and she sprints towards home, her helmet retracting as she gets to her door. There’s a large, bloody smear across the outside of the door, but it is closed.

“No...” she breathes. “No. No! NO!” she kicks in the door and points her gun, keeping her eyes sharp.

“Dad?” She steps inside, and calls again. “Dad?”

She steps towards his bedroom, and peeks in. There’s no sign of Sarah, but her father is sitting in his wheelchair, slumped forward a bit. He seems alright, though, there’s no visible injuries on him.

“Dad?” she calls to him, lowering her gun slightly. “Dad?” she gulps and raises her gun again, holding her breath. “Dad... Where’s Sarah?” He moans softly, and rolls his head slightly.

“This isn’t funny Dad...” she steps closer to him. No response.

She steps closer tentatively. “Damn it Dad! Fucking ans-” She screams as her father, who had been paraplegic for the last seven years, leaps at her, knocking her to the ground as his face splits open, sharp teeth and jagged spurs of bone jutting from his upper palate.

For a moment, she’s 15 again, cornered and terrified, as a strange man climbs on top of her. She lashes out in fear and rage, and shoves her father from her, his hands splitting open to reveal sharp bone claws as his torso pulls from his hips, three long, lashing tentacle-like ropes of intestines and bone flailing at the air.

One of the needle-tipped tentacles slams into the floor next to her, and a second slams through her arm, on the left, just like her shoulder. The third hovers over her as the half-corpse drags itself onto her again, trying once more to bite at her through her armor.

She bites her cheek in pain and misery, seeing her father now as a hideous monster, craving only her innards and organs. But she couldn’t cry now. The thing that hovered above her whips the third tendril towards her head, her quick reflexes saving her only barely, and she feels it cut her ear in passing.

Lifting her Divet with her good arm, she puts it to her father’s head, whispers good-bye, and pulls the trigger. Her vision waters as the blood and bits of brain splatter ceiling and walls, wishing she’d kept her damn helmet on. She simply hadn’t wanted to scare Sarah...

The creature writhes, the tendrils embedded in the floor snapping off and flailing at the air. A clawed hand raises, and begins to descend towards Victoria’s unprotected face.

It disappears in an explosion of muscle and bone fragments, and Frost hears the characteristic noise of the pulse rifle, as the rounds chew into the body of the creature above her.

“Shit, Frosty, this is why I said I’d meet you at the tram. Didja think I was spewing shit again?” A tired, blood-smeared Johan Allegro stands in the doorway, holding a pulse rifle with a smoking barrel.

Victoria was in too much shock to process what exactly just happened or even notice Johan.

“D-Daddy...?” she croaks, lying on the floor, her eyes dilated and flowing with tears.

She feels a pair of arms lift her with care pulling her off of the spike, and then someone’s patting her on the back and holding her up, but she can’t see who it is through her tears.

“I’m sorry, Frost. Really.” Johan’s voice cuts through her tears as she mourns her father, who had taken care of her until his injury, and who had still provided good advice and shoulder to cry on for years. It just wasn’t fair...

“God damn it!” she bites her lip and claws the fabric on Johan’s suit. “I told them to leave! Why didn’t they listen to me!”

“Maybe they did. It would explain why your dad’s wheelchair is set out. I don’t know, maybe something got it? I still don’t know what’s causing all this.”

“I told Sarah not to answer the door but-” she stops. “Sarah!” Frost gets up and grabbed her gun. “She wasn’t here when I found my dad.”

“Shit, think she’s maybe one of these things now? At least they’re easy to kill, for the most part. Hit them in the limbs, by the way, they go down if you blow off enough chunks of ‘em.”

“Thanks for the heads up...” she says cocking the Divet.

“You’re welcome. C’mon, if Sarah is one of them now, I’d rather not meet up with her.” Johan says, supporting Victoria with his shoulder. The two of them walk to the doorway. “Also, have you been seeing the Unitologist symbols all over the place? they’re definitely getting more and more common. Think they might’ve done something?”

“I- I don’t think so,” she winced at the pain in her arm. “Or rather, I hope not... Wait, I think Sarah’s a Unitologist; she’s never seemed like the type to do something like this.”

“Yeah, I guess not. She’s the pretty blond with the nice rear, right?” Johan jokes.

“If I wasn’t in so much pain I’d smack you right now,” she grunted.

“I’ll take that as a yes. What, you jealous I notice other girls?” The two have hobbled their way to the front door, the cheap synth-wood splintered from Victoria’s charge earlier.

“Oh don’t flatter yourself,” she chuckles. “I have standards.”

“Good thing I meet them, right? Don’t turn me down now, I need the ego boost if I’m going to make it.” This gets a laugh from Victoria.

“Not even if you could save this entire station.”

Johan shakes his head, his expression hidden by the malevolent smiley-face of his helmet. “Idunno, I might just try it, see if that gets me some real warmth from you, Frosty.”

“Just shut up and walk, soldier.”

“Don’t I outrank you?”

“And? Your point?”

“Nothing, ma’am, walking ma’am, can-do ma’am!” He says, snapping a salute, before wincing and grabbing his stomach. “Ooh, probably shouldn’t do that again ‘till I find some medi-gel.”

“Hehe, oops. Sorry, just used the last of mine.”

“Ah, no probs, you probably needed it. My suit’s keeping most of the bleeding down, and the internal stuff inside. It really just needs something to close the gash for when I get out of the suit.”

“I say it still needs the coffeemaker.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. You know, I don’t think I ever told you; I’m almost fully half Irish. And yet, I can’t stand the taste of alcohol.”

The duo had made it down the hallway, symbols in blood written in spirals along the walls and floor. There’s no bodies, but there’s several drawings of the holy icon of Unitology, the Marker, like a fat strand of DNA.

“And this is why I’m an athiest....” she muttered, eyeing the symbols.

“Yeah, I was thinking about getting into it, I mean, there’s lots of good reasons, and the whole thing does kinda make sense, but it really kinda creeps me out now.”

“You know... Back when I was into all this crap I remember the story going something like this and our race becoming perfect in the end.”

“What story?”

“How Unitology came to be.” She said, remembering the legend. “Apparently this guy, back on Earth, before it was all dead and stuff, he found this thing called ‘the Marker’. Supposedly, it taught him this language, and a whole bunch of things, that this alien race made humanity, and the Marker was the key to finishing their work. Something about being ‘free of the bindings of death’.”

“Yeah, sounds about like how the pamphlet goes. Mickey Altar or something.”

“Altmann. Michael Altmann. Nowadays, Unitologists believe that Altmann was killed by the United Earth Government at the time, the earliest version of E-Gov, to cover up the truth. It all sounds like a bunch of hooey to me, the UEG was too busy evacuating the populace to care about some religious nut. But he said when the Gods came back they would finish us...”

“Huh.” is all Johan could say to that as they turned yet another corner, trying to find their way to somewhere else. “Just as a question, but are all these empty corridors and stuff giving you the willies, too?”

“Do you really have to ask?” She states sarcastically. “But I wonder... Do you think this is what they meant by becoming perfect? ‘cuz frankly, if it is- i’d rather stay unfinished.”

“Yeah. I kn-” Johan cuts off. “Shh, did you hear that?” He’s stopped completely, and the only sounds are the breathing of the two security officers. Then, a sound like someone who’s eaten too much and is trying to keep it down echoes out.

Johan raises his pulse rifle, braces it against his shoulder. Around a corner, a large, bulky yellow form waddles into view. A thick brace of dirty, blood-stained yellow hair dangles around from the creature’s head.

“Well, I guess I was right. Still, it’s a shame about her hair.” Johan says, his voice cracking.

“That’s the ugliest chicken I’ve ever seen,” Victoria replies, holding up her handgun.

Johan fires a burst of rounds at the creature, the small squash-heads ripping chunks from the monster’s ‘shoulder’ and completely ripping off one of its wide-bladed talons. The creature shrieks, as Victoria aims for it’s brain, hoping it would kill it. The rounds from the Divet smash into the creature’s cranium, sending chunks of brain and bone across the wall. The abomination then uses its remaining blade to cut its own belly open, then topples backwards, expired again.

“Why the hell did it- What the hell?!” Johan yells, as a swarm of tiny, pale, gore-soaked things flip and fold out from the monster’s torn belly, rapidly moving closer to the two humans. “The hell? are those just flaps of skin?!” One of them, though, seems to actually be a heart, the valves twisted into tiny grasping suckers.

Closing the distance in spite of the hail of bullets sent their direction, a few exploding from lucky shots or Victoria’s careful aim, but the mass of the swarming things draws nearer, and one even leaps at Frost, only for her to shoot it out of the air.

What horrified her, however, was that the thing was bearing a long, needle-like spike at her as it did. Johan’s storm of bullets shredded the rest, each dying with a squeal.

“We have to move! Now!” she shouted, ripping off a swarmer sticking to his back. It pops with a wet squelch.

“Wha- yeah, sure. C’mon, I think we can get to the Manehattan. It’s a big ship, and these things seem to move a lot, they’ve probably left by now.” Johan says.

“No way- if we go there we’re dead. Imagine how many people have already tried to go there and are monsters now?”

“Actually, most of the announcements said to leave the Manehattan at the outset. There’s almost definitely less of them there. Most of all, though, I know we can get into the Armory there. I stopped by ‘our’ Armory on the way here, but it was emptied.”

Frost looked at the dead pieces of flesh on the floor and shuddered at the thought of the long needle on one of them.

“Fine. But we need to find some medi-gel before we go anywhere.”

“That’s actually the other reason I think we should go to the Manehattan, it’s got the nearest medical facilities of any real grade beyond a cheap Credit Clinic, which is someplace neither of us have the money to spend at. Crisis or not, those places are automated, and won’t give us anything without money.”

“I have my card,” she said reloading her pistol. “Besides, it’s not like I can use my creds for anything else.”

“Besides, you know, ammo. Or just buying more medi-gel from the next AutoStore, the closest of which is still in the Manehattan. Come on, it can’t be any worse than here.”

“Right,” she said spitting on the floor. “Got a whole month's rent on this thing so it should be able to buy us a few things. I also have the emergency card Dad gave me back when I was 16, should still have a good amount on it.”

“Well, then, lets go. I’ve got about enough to... ah hell, I probably won’t need to pay rent either. C’mon, let’s make sure the tram’s still here. I want to get to the Manehattan, get some supplies, then leave.” Johan says, once again leaning on Frost as they walk together to the tram station. thankfully, there’s little excitement until then, just a few of the abominations that were relatively easy to put down, and no more of the bloated ones.

Reaching the tram, Frost helps Johan to lay down on a bench, while she gets the tram moving. It goes without a hitch, and they arrive in the tram dock of the Manehattan, one of the stations splattered with gore and debris, another tram already there docked at that one.

“Alright, the way to Medical should be clearly marked. Ah, could you do me a favor and check my RIG? I kind of want to know what it has to say about my injury.”

Victoria nods, and carefully rolls him onto his side, only to freeze as she sees that his ‘health bars’ are down to a paltry four bars left - and are in the yellow.

“Not gonna sugar coat it- you should probably lay low for now. I’ll go,” she said turning. “But check mine just incase.”

“Alright, as long as you’re inviting... Yeah, you’re in the green still, missing a couple of bars, but you should be fine.” he sighs, then continues, “I’ll sit tight, make sure you have someplace to retreat to if you need it. Good luck.”

“Thanks. You too.”

He carefully sits up opposite the tram door, and sits his SWS Pulse Rifle across his lap as Frost walks into the ship. Behind her, he whistles a tune in the dark, only his headlamp illuminating the tram station.

“You better be the same when I get back.”

“I plan to be.”

With that she left, walking into the confines of the main corridor. Looking at the signs painted onto the walls, she sees that one points towards Medical, and the other points towards Housing and Engineering. Turning towards medical, she carefully sneaks along, thankful for the low-light enhanced vision that the helmet provides her.

[Area Theme]

“I still need to fix this hole in my arm,” she groaned, rolling her shoulder. “This thing better give me that gel...”

Stepping through the shadowy corridors with stealth and precision, Victoria tries to keep herself together. Every few moments, she has to blink away the image of her father, twisted into a monstrous, ravening beast, lest the image takes over her vision.

She makes her way to one of the lower levels of Medical after finding that the one on the level with the tram was blocked. Something that worried her, was that she didn’t seem to be able to contact Johan.

“Better make sure he’s okay,” she whispers to herself, fumbling with her com. Suddenly, though, the RIGlink call pulls through, though it’s a staticky and a little hard to see him. Johan is still sitting.

“Hey, couldn’t go too long with-~fizzle~-eing my beautiful face, eh?” Johan says, coughing wetly. “Things are pretty quiet aro-~fizzle~-re, in case you’re wondering.”

She ignores the narcissism and only replied with a, “Good to hear you’re okay. I found the Medical Wing, shouldn’t be long before I find- there! Found it!” she said, spying a medical cabinet. “Found our target, be back soon.”

“Al-~fizzle~-ee you soo-~fizzle~-” Johan says, his picture fading out with a crackle.

Stepping across the blood-splattered floor of the medical ward, she carefully opens the cabinet, finding a double medi-gel package. Also inside is a lone credit chip, set for several hundred credits.

“Double jackpot, perfect.” she whispers, but quiets as she hears noises from the doorway.

“Shit!” she whispers, stashing away the gel and going into a shadowed corner, readying her pistol.

With her light-enhancing filter on, and her headlamp and pistol light off, she’s nearly invisible as two pony-shaped shadows enter the medical ward. she studied them, aiming her weapon for any sudden attacks. It was too dark to tell anything other than their shape. They seemed normal, but she did not dare take any chances.

Then, one spoke.

“Seriously, after those bodies got back up and turned into those monsters, I think Medical is the last place we want to be.” The lighter of the two of them said.

“I don’t care, we need medi-gel, and we need to find an AutoStore, we need some kind of protection, and suits of some kind are a necessity in that case.” the darker of the two said, though his coloration wasn’t that much darker.

“They’re normal,” she whispers to herself.”

“Shut it fluffer, I don’t like being here. How come you’re all brave all of a sudden?”

The darker one sighs. “Please stop insulting me, it’s not nice.”

“Great, you sound like Johan now.”

“Johan?” her eyes widen. “They must be the friends he was calling earlier.”

The bickering pair continue to fearfully traverse the room, the darker of the two a unicorn levitating a Divet in front of him, though it appears to be one of the models meant for humans to use.

They check the cabinets, but find no other canisters of medi-gel.

She creeps behind them, and aims her gun. “Make any sudden movements and I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Both of the ponies jump, however, showing impressive reflexes as they dive to the other side of a counter, the unicorn screaming slightly, before she could squeeze the trigger.

“You mentioned the name Johan- do you mean Johan Allegro?” she held her aim.

The white earth pony replies, “Are you going to shoot him if I say yes?” at the same time the unicorn says, “Yeah, he’s a friend of ours.”

She lowers her gun and retracts her helmet. “Officer Frost. Johan is my superior. He’s wounded and is taking shelter over at the tram station. He’s in the yellow, four bars.”

“Shit. How many bars does he normally have?”

“Fifteen.”

“Fuck. Well, we’ve only found a single medi-gel, in spite of this being Medical. Tubs over here wants us to go to Surgery, apparently he thinks there’ll be more there, and I just think there’ll be more of those things there.”

Victoria placed a hand on the hidden gel quickly to make sure it was still present.

“Wait, Frost? I know that name. Johan talks about you on his spare time a lot.” the white earth pony says, peeking around the corner.

She cocked a brow and crossed her arms. “Oh really? Let me guess, I’m his lover or something stupid like that?” she quoted the words with her fingers.

“Actually, he’s usually talking about how much he likes you. Idunno, he’s a lot more... quiet about you, I guess. Not as, uh, crudely vocal.” The unicorn says peering out from the cover of the desk.

“O-oh...” this answer catches the woman off guard, Johan was always so frivolous about his ‘player ways’ or whatever he called it, always acting like every girl wants him.

“Uh, you mentioned he’s injured? As in, still alive?” the unicorn asks. “Where is he? Oh, right, trams. Uh, you’re with the riot control group, right? Can you get us to Surgery? there’s a bunch of those things between here, but there should be loads of medi-gel there.”

“Not until we get Johan, the longer we wait the greater chance it is that something will come across him. He’d also be an asset to the group.”

Author's Notes:

So that's the first Character Insertion Chapter, or CIC, out of the way. I hope you're all enjoying this, and, again, if you see any mistakes, please tell me so I can correct them!

Thanks to the following for contributing to the story so far:
Itsmyfuneral, starring as Sketch
Hunterz263, starring as Broker Wordsmith
Rosethorn, starring as Victoria Frost
The Pieman, Editor in Chief