“Are you sure?” Captain Hawkins asked earnestly, “Are you sure there are no other survivors on Sector A to Sector D?”

“Aside for Lieutenant Shizuka and her team, I have no knowledge of any other survivors on the said sectors sir!” Sergeant Parks reported, Private Dawson and Private Porter flanking him standing to.

“hhhmmm,” The Captain paced, hands at his back, “You do know what you’re suggesting Sergeant could lead to the deaths of hundreds of servicemen right?”

“Yes sir!” Parks replied, “But judging by the situation sir, the GEOM breaches on those Sectors are too significant to be cleared with personal close quarters sweeping sir!”

“What do you think Lyon? Vacuuming the Sectors once the Epitome has pulled as off this debris filled?”

The Knight was slumped on Lieutenants Shizuka’s chair on the weapons post with an IV line running through one arm, the other holding a half-eaten a food ration.

“Lieutenant, how long before we get out of this debris field?” The Knight asked.

“Approximately five minutes sir,” Herrard answered.

“There you go Hawkins,” said Lyon, “Five minutes for the Lieutenant to get out of those sectors, five minutes for Ensign Borbon to find them and five minutes for me to eat this dry piece of shit.”

“I don’t think we can make it,” Private Gordon strained.

“Why’s that?” Private Enriquez questioned.

“The protocol will be in effect,” Gordon answered, switching his fire to the sound behind them.

“What protocol numbskull?” Enriquez whispered, passing by an infirmary with dismembered body parts strewn inside it. Shizuka almost gagged from the sight.

“Purging protocol.” The Lieutenant gasped in answer, averting vomiting disaster, “Thirty minutes after an unclear section is breach, the vacuuming of the said sections will commence regardless of unevacuated personnel.

“Fuck me.” Private Enriquez whispered, clearing another room

“Damn right.” Gordon responded, holding the rear.

“Can anyone confirm on Deck 3 Sector Alpha?” Shizuka asked, dropping her heavy dead console, the only means of communication they had with the bridge. Enriquez pointed her rifle flashlight on a wall with a floor legend, Deck 3 Sector A Door 5.

“So near yet so far Ma’am.” Enriquez grumbled.

“Maybe if we ran for it we could make it.” Gordon suggested.

“Are you crazy Bacon?” Enriquez countered, “The only thing running will get us quicker to is inside one of those G’s”

“She’s right Bacon.” Shizuka agreed, “We might run into a blob wall or a shifter pack. At least going in slow and steady we have a chance.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” The private mumbled.

“It would’ve been great too if the elevators weren’t GEOM mouse traps.” Shizuka added.

They were about to reach the stairwell ascending to the Deck 2, the section where fireteam 11 split up. As Private Enriquez boot stepped onto Deck 2 floor something whirred to life and tracer rounds began illuminating the deck’s half-light followed by innumerable pings as bullets hit the various metallic surfaces. The three retreated back to the safety of the mid-flights of the staircase.

“I’m guessing that’s you Bacon!” Shizuka shouted above the din.

The Private nodded, “Something set off the traps!”

A few stray bullets hit the foundations near the stairwell and the ceramic shard bullets rained over the crouching soldiers. Most internal naval weapons are equipped with ammunition designed not to puncture the ship’s hull. The Problem is ceramic based ammunition that it greatly reduces the weapons lethality in terms of range. After several minutes of non-stop auto-cannon fire, the turret started firing sporadically then coughed the last belt of its ammunition, the twinkling of the shattered bullets blanketing the deck floor. Shizuka peered over the top step and saw some of the twinkling shards go out in a step-like pattern. She signaled to the two privates that there were at least two GEOMS that survived the auto-cannon trap.

Enriquez did a hand gesture that covered her face with a palm, the call-sign for Shifters. Shizuka shook her head in reply still not sure what they were dealing with or tried to reassure his team that there was a chance it wouldn’t be shifters. Ceramic bullets will not crack gags and the auto cannon was wired to shoot towards movement. Whatever GEOM variant they were dealing with it was fast, stealthy and alive. Shifters are the likely threat.

Shizuka tried not to think about what might happened to Sergeant Parks and the other half of Fireteam 11 but it was clear that they weren’t successful in disposing all of the gags. Before she had a chance to signal to the two privates her plan of action, bullets whizzed over her head and Gordon was pulling her from the top of the staircase. She felt something plop over her head and something dripping over her cheek. She wiped her face with her wrist and saw the dark green ooze. Enriquez emptied her magazine at the Shifter and Gordon now fired suit. The two did not stop until the GEOMs head was clean off and its headless body slumped over the top step. Its black exoskeleton coated with the dark green fluid oozing out of the bullet holes in it, its sharp clawed hands twitching. The shifter’s exoskeleton where the privates’ rifle lights shone on reflected rainbow colored light and sheened gray white, the aliens adaptive coating reacting to direct light—one of the reasons UTSF scientist think why the shifters preferred stalking in darkness.

Shizuka only realized after the shifter was killed off that the two privates were shouting. There rasped deep breaths now echoed the deck. Enriquez gave her a nod which Shizuka returned; she would have surely been killed by that shifter if not for the private’s quick reactions. Gordon walked past the Lieutenant and peered past the staircase wall, his body and fatigues also covered with the slimy dark-green ooze. Shizuka became self-conscious and started wiping off the chunks of slime from her long brown hair.

“I think the other one ran off,” Private Gordon whispered. Enriquez crouched on the opposite of side of the male private, rested her back on the stair balustrade and peeked at the other corner.

“We’re good for now.” She reported, kicking one of the dead shifters arms, “I hate these motherfuckers.”

“The other one will be waiting for us to make a move.” Shizuka said, giving up the effort to cleanse her hair from the slimy discharge.

“But if we wait it out will be blown to space.” Gordon uttered, “We’re dead either way.”

Enriquez slapped the private on the back of his head, “Talking more like that and you will Bacon.”

Gordon massaged the back of his head and whimpered, “I’m just saying that we take our chances now and ran the fuck away from here.”

“Perhaps those aren’t our only options.” Shizuka commented. The two private looked at her quizzically.

“What do you have in mind Ma’am eltee?” Enriquez asked.

“Five minutes are up Hawkins.” Lyon said, checking the bridge time console near him.

Hawkins nodded, standing over his command console, a red button blinking ominously on its screen.

“Herrard are we clear out of the debris field?”

“Aye Captain,” Lieutenant Herrard confirmed, “The Epitome and Vasily has successfully towed us off the debris sir.”

“Is everything set Ensign?” The Captain asked.

“All sector anterooms towards Sectors Alpha to Delta are now closed Captain,” Ensign Amelie replied, “Ready for sector wide dumping.”

Sector dumping, Hawkins thought, what a way to call the massacre they’re about to do.

“Was Lieutenant Shizuka that kissed me?”

“What?” Hawkins turned towards the Knight confused, “What did you say?”

“Was it Lieutenant Shizuka that kissed me back on the Engine room?” Lyon repeated.

“Gave you CPR.” Hawkins corrected, “Don’t flatter yourself Lyon.” He knew what was the Knight trying to do, jarring him off his thoughts of the men and women who had worked with him for almost half a year and was now condemning those trapped in the four uncleared sectors to death.

“We gave them time Hawkins,” Lyon reassured, “They might have escaped.”

Hawkins only nodded and started to release the sector hatch safeties on his console.

“Initiating purging protocol.” He cautioned then proceeded to press the red button.

Bleeping sounds resonated throughout deck 2 as every bulkhead hissed open. The positive pressure inside the ship rushed outwards with a roar and tried to take anything with it. The Shifter was not worried. Its kind has evolved decades ago to survive the void of open space when the humans started baiting and sacrificing some of their number to desperately flushed its kind from their ship infestations—such a resilient and foolhardy species mother would always say.

It latched to each room’s corner waiting and looking for signs of its prey. It knew that the primitive humans did not have the ability to function without oxygen and will either try to escape or hide. It meticulously destroyed potential hiding spots and stealthy picked its stalking nests, patiently tracking the preys caught in its domain. It studied and avoided the flow of the rupturing airflow, buffeted objects and frozen bodies—both of human and its kind. The last couple of unhatched shifter eggs were among the first to be vacuumed into space. The shifter licked its set of razor sharped piked teeth--the less competition the better. Something burst on the far corner of the sector and it vigilantly checked it out. A red tube apparently imploded and its shattered casing was bouncing off the bulkheads trying to escape to outer space.

The last spurts of the vacuum raged out of the sector, the malevolent atmosphere now starting to stabilize. That’s when it caught sight of something peculiar. Something dark and incredibly resistant was holding on one of the corners. It couldn’t see it before since that corridor in particular was one of the direct routes the atmosphere was venting from. It inched towards it, surveying each blind spot on its way towards the out-of-place object. Even how its kind belittles the primitiveness of the humans, their approach in eliminating their kind is brutally effective. How its nest companion impatiently and frenziedly charged towards the group that just stepped onto their pre-hunting zone. Its nest-mate almost got one of the pests.

Almost.

It was almost face to face with it now. It was largely similar to one of those fragile humans. How its outer skin flapped and swayed. If only it could smell it right now to confirm it from afar but scent has also been sucked by the void of space.

It could not help it, it waited too long and wanted a live one and it was sure the struggling human was close to death exposed to the forays of space and depravity of oxygen. It scurried the wall opposite of the human and pounced on it. Its teeth punctured its frozen leathery skin and penetrated the hard skin beneath. But something was wrong. It feasted on dead humans after its hatching and none of their bodies hissed and whistled when it bit on them. A pair appeared from his peripheral but as soon as it looked the trickery it on imploded inside its mouth blowing its head and maimed body towards open space.

Enriquez gave Shizuka a thumb up. The assembled of acetylene tanks and fire extinguishers scattered on Deck 3 and spare fatigues from one of the upheaved rooms did enough to misdirect the shifter. They knew the GEOM would not look for them through the venting atmosphere and anchored a dislodged drop capsule on one of the main corridors and waited. Bacon’s scanner tracked the shifter as it searched for them through the mayhem of the Purging Protocol. Private Gordon then masterfully distracted the shifter with a remotely detonated fire extinguisher giving them enough time to set up the deceit.

Shizuka breathed through their shared oxygen tank. Shaking her head as she remembered one of her instructors on officer school: Young GEOMs are often more aggressive, will not pass up an easy kill and tend to go against its GEOM queens commands; so eager to produce, so eager to eat. Although the last Shifter seemed to adapt well enough after they killed its nest-mate and eventually made the mistake, its patience cost them most of their oxygen supply.

Bacon was entering codes and override protocols on one of Sector A’s connecting anterooms and its blipping of red denied flashes aggravated the young private’s frustrations. All of them wore improvised space suits made from layers of UTSF standard navy uniforms, face masks made from wrapped shirts and safety goggles. It delayed the after effects of space exposure but just by a few minutes.

Private Gordon held up his hands, his fingers now discoloring to purple and black--the telltale signs of severe hypoxia. Private Enriquez floated beside Shizuka, their makeshift anchoring belts drifted between the three of them. The private placed a gangrened hand over one of her shoulders and showed her the oxygen tank gauge, the needle struck at zero. The officer nodded and grinned behind her makeshift mask, the thought that they at least gave the rest of the ship security from the shifters made her feel at peace. Enriquez nodded in return, seemingly emphatic of the officer’s thoughts.

Despite herself, Enriquez pulled Private Gordon, who looked worst of the three, towards them and gave him a reassuring hug. The private tried his best and she wanted him to know that. The Lieutenant smiled at the boy; her eyes beaming and bloodshot behind her goggles, embracing the inevitable. Her dream of commanding a ship partially came true but working with the two privates and garnering their respect was more than made up for it.

They circled around in a grouped embrace, their eyes drooping, their heads swaying sleepily, their bodies shivering and their brains on the verge of blacking out. None of them were conscious when the trio of hand pairs pulled them towards the now open bulkhead doors.