Get a hold of yourself, dammit! Gus couldn’t shake the visceral dread he felt in the dark ship, even though he should feel better and more prepared than ever. His eyes played across the interior of the transport as mapping drones illuminated everything with a pale blue light as some crawled across the walls and others whirred and floated down the far side of the room. They scanned and stitched together a virtual representation of the craft on the party’s displays, leaving glowing amber lines illuminating the party’s displays, revealing what their scans had turned up.

Eyes flitted upwards as something banged through some ducts above them, retreating to the fore. I thought I was done with all that zombie nonsense! Gus rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen up against the tightness and tension that threatened to crush him.

“What was that?” someone asked on the comms.

“Probably zombies,” Gus replied instinctually forgetting the mental link they all shared. He was surprised that the mental communication transmitted a quaver in his voice.

Gus was still getting used to the system that networked Nth used when in a party. It allowed a limited range for communication and data transmission. Gus could see Nick playing a small video in the bottom right corner of some of Gus’ old battles with varying types of zombies.

A chorus of groans and gasps came across the mental link. Supers weren’t scared of most things, but this was one foe that they all feared. Gus almost felt like he had not taken them as seriously as he should have, from the effect the creatures had on supers much more experienced and battle hardened than he was.

When silence returned, the party moved forward again. Gus led the small group. His resistance to infection being a primary factor--if a zombie did manage to jump out. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt. Gus looked to his left and sent a mental command to Jet to scout further ahead. The blade dipped in a nod of agreement and shot forward silently. Metallic clicks were the only sound as the spider-like mapping drones crawled ahead, shining their beams around, illuminating this area of the ship. It was the largest transport Gus had ever seen, and he was not looking forward to how much time it would take to clear the vessel.

Tempest had arranged this mission, so Gus could learn to work with other supers. Putting Gus in charge was another thing that added to his stress. He never considered himself a leader, but he would have to man up sooner or later. It still felt unnatural and odd that anyone would follow him. Especially when it was so obvious he was out of place and didn’t know what he was doing.

It had also been Tempest’s idea to check the transport Methiochos had used to see if there were any stragglers that could pose a threat to any of the supers there. Since the source of the Dark Nth infection was unknown, part of their mission was to find and destroy any possible vectors for reintroducing the Dark Nth, whether by computer or zombie. Gus hadn’t given them another thought after he had defeated The One, assuming they were all gone or dead. Just one more thing he had missed in his wide-eyed naivety.

A loud *thunk* brought him back to the present. With a command, one of the mapping drones did a deep scan of the wall in question, but by the time the drone went through the cycle, all that was revealed was an empty duct. Gus stared at the spot now visible on his display, trying to gauge if a mantid could fit in the tight space. Some of the group had moved forward, following the drones.

“Rattle ya dags,” an accented voice sounded in Gus’ mind. Looking up, one of the Crew was motioning for him to hurry up and get back in the lead. Gus nodded in embarrassment and resumed point. The cheerful super gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder as he led the group again to the next section of the ship.

The group exited the cargo area and filed into a line as they entered the main cabin, with seats on either side of a small aisle leading forward. Gus was grateful for the drones, going on ahead and revealing that there was nothing lying in wait between the seats ahead. Windows had broken in the area and the plastic bits crunched noisily as boots walked across the debris moving to the pilots' cabin. In the gloom, Gus could smell mold and saw a couple of mushrooms growing where moisture had pooled in the seats and on the ground. Volcanic rock had punctured the ship in this area allowing the jungle outside to invade. Dry vines had wormed their way into the gash, filling it up and muting the light in the cabin. They probably cut off their own light supply, killing themselves in their urge to explore.

“What is this, a class A transport? Enough seats here to fit a hundred, hundred-fifty easy,” a deep voice asked on the comm.

“Its designation is actually SS, and there are two more cabins just like this, one above and another below us on different levels. Ships’ name appears to be the Banoi. We need to find some intact ports to see if we can interface with the ship’s computers and get some answers.”

“You’re using a remote interface, right? Don’t connect directly to anything--” the deep voice warned.

“Yeah, yeah. I have done this before, alright?” Gus didn’t recognize the super the voice belonged to, but he imagined her to be a mischievous pixie or elf from the lilting tone of her voice. He caught himself mid-musing, wondering how much got transferred along this mental form of networking and tried to focus on the task at hand.

The mapping droids had begun to make it to the next section of the ship and its layout was being stitched into existence on his display. It was odd to maneuver in the almost perfect dark sections of the ship with glowing amber lines and textures showing the world around him in monochromatic majesty.

“Finally!” pixie-voice cheered and brushed past Gus on her way to a bank of computers. Pulling out a small box about the size of a small dictionary, she fed some cables into various ports and powered on the machine. “It’s downloading, ladies and gentlemen. And it looks like no contamination in the ship's computer systems, whether that’s good or bad. We still need to locate patient zero or the vector of infection.”

“Is it possible that all of them are gone, that patient zero was already killed?” Gus asked hopefully.

“Maybe. But we’re a long way from anywhere. From what I’m getting from ship logs, this had to be a premeditated attack. What are you feeling Harmony?”

A woman with a sultry voice beside Gus placed her hands on her temples and pinched her eyes shut. “I sense something ahead, it’s dark…” She suddenly went limp, another teammate barely catching her before she hit the floor. The rest of them looked forward to the doorway that yawned ahead.