A sharp wail of the emergency siren wrenched what little rest Orvina was planning on having away from her. All four of her eyes opened wide, burning from lack of sleep and the light on the ceiling shining directly at them. The Flarian vice captain was lying on her back, taking a deep inhale to try and calm herself as her communicator screamed again.

  Orvina growled, raising her larger right arm and dropping her fist onto the nightstand next to her bed. The legs of the nightstand broke from the force of the impact, and so did the top board.

  “God fucking damn it, what is it now?!”

  She sat up, grabbing the communicator and frowned when Baland’s name popped on the holo-screen.

  “What is it, Mister Baland?” Orvina growled, her tone so filled with frustration that Baland distanced himself from the device to protect his ears should she start to yell.

  “Uhm.” She could hear him clear his throat.

  “Captain Nubela went on a rampage. You are needed in the cargo bay, asap.”

  With that, Baland hung up the call, and Orvina was left for a moment to stew in her sleepless frustration. She checked the clock that fell on the floor when she smashed the nightstand.

  “Damn. I’ve barely slept for an hour.”

  ***

  The crew was all huddled around Nubela’s body on the cold floor of the cargo bay, next to supply crates that were pried open or torn apart, chunks of half-chewed nutrient blocks scattered around the scene.

  Aller was leaning against the wall, holding his rifle, while Baland stared daggers at him.

  “What’s going on here?” Orvina’s voice could be heard from the hall before she even appeared in sight.

  Seeing the vice captain round the corner with fury in her step made Aller stiffen his posture like someone forced a metal rod up his ass without warning. He clutched the rifle to his chest, staring dead ahead into nothing.

  Orvina was equal parts shocked and furious at the sight of Nubela naked on the ground. She passed by Baland, smacking one of the crewmembers upside the head so hard the Flarian almost toppled over.

  “Grab her a blanket or something for fuck’s sake!” The Flarian vice captain hissed, grabbing a tarp from one of the ammo crates and covering Nubela’s body with it. She touched the captain’s neck to confirm she was still breathing.

  “Baland.”

  “Yes, Ma’am?”

  “What happened?”

  “I think it is best if Officer Aller tells you everything. He was the one who put a stop to her rampage.” Baland replied, patting Aller on the shoulder before pushing him towards Orvina.

  “The rest of you, clear out! Back to your duties.” The vice captain ordered, as what remained of the crew dispersed with a jog. Nubela’s body was wrapped in the tarp and taken to the medbay. Orvina turned her attention back to Aller, now that only Baland, Aller and she remained.

  “Well, Ma’am, I… I shot the captain. But!” Aller raised both pairs of hands as if to tell them there was more to the story.

  “I only used stun rounds.”

  “I can see that, Officer. Now, calm down and start from the beginning.” Orvina sighed and sat on one of the crates.

  “I was heading to relieve the guards of their duty when I heard reports of someone going insane and starting a fight. I rushed over, only to see Captain Nubela on all fours, beating several of the crew from the engineering staff as they tried to subdue her.” Aller explained.

  “She was practically naked and moving on all fours like she lost her mind, screaming in some… I don’t know, made-up language?” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

  “It took me a couple seconds to process what the hell I was looking at, before ordering the remaining engineers to back away from her.”

  “What happened then?” Baland asked.

  “I shouted for her to calm down. When that didn’t work, I asked for permission to subdue her with non-lethal rounds into the communicator.”

  “That’s not standard protocol.” Orvina raised an eyebrow.

  “I know, but she is the captain, I didn’t want to get in trouble for shooting her.” The officer responded, taking a deep breath before continuing.

  “She didn’t seem to register my words at all, and tried lunging at me, so I had no choice but to fire several shots at her.” Aller raised his weapon, showing to both Baland and Orvina that the weapon was set to stun.

  “How did she end up in the cargo bay then?” Baland asked.

  “I don’t have an idea, sir. I shot her, she kept yammering on about something and beating her chest before running off towards the cargo bay and battering down the door. I followed after her.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “And?”

  “I found her crying and stuffing her face with the Xyrlek nutrient blocks, mumbling how hungry she was. She tried to attack me, so I had no choice but to open fire on her.” Aller motioned to the mess and the crates to his right.

  “What? A few shots weren't enough?” Orvina asked.

  The officer’s posture stiffened again.

  “Apologies, Vice Captain. I had to fully discharge all the stun rounds in my magazine into Captain Nubela at point-blank range. She didn't seem to be bothered by the first few shots and was getting increasingly aggressive. If there was an alternative solution, I simply didn't see it at the time.”

  “Could something be wrong with your weapon?” Baland leaned over and took the rifle from his subordinate.

  “No, Sir. I’ve had it checked this morning.” Aller replied.

  “The captain is strong, but she effectively fought off over two dozen crewmen and pried open the cargo bay doors. That’s not normal.”

  “I will see if Vanya can find what’s wrong with her.” Orvina exhaled in exhaustion and waved the Aller off.

  “Back to your duties, dismissed.”

  With a nod, the security officer left the cargo bay in a hurry. Orvina and Baland waited till he was well out of earshot before continuing their conversation.

  “Why wasn’t I notified that she broke out?” She asked.

  “You were. As soon as the surveillance system flagged it. It took her less than fifteen minutes to tear through the hallways and the crew trying to stop her from getting to the supplies.” Baland replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  “What’s the damage?” Orvina pointed to the hallway with her thumb, hinting at all the unfortunate Flarians that got caught in the path of Nubela’s rampage.

  “Thirty-two. Twenty-five of them with serious injuries. We’re talking skull fractures, broken bones and concussions. The other seven got off with only minor injuries.” Baland answered.

  They both stared at the floor without a word, processing the events that had happened, when Baland broke the silence.

  “What’s going on with her?”

  “I don’t know.” Orvina shook her head.

  “She’s lost her mind.” He mumbled.

  “No shit, Baland!” The Vice Captain snapped, catching Baland and herself off guard with her outburst.

  “I’m sorry. I’m tired.” Orvina sighed.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s alright. I get it, things have not been flowery since Kalibash.” Baland walked over and patted her on the shoulder in consolation.

  “Baland, can I be honest with you?” She walked over to the ammunition crates and sat on one.

  “By all means, Vice Captain.” He sat beside her.

  “I think I can understand her. What she’s going through, I mean. I’ve been feeling off lately, too, so full of hatred and anger. I walk through the ship, praying someone tries me so I can chew them out.” Orvina admitted.

  “I’m not blind, I can see how out of character such behaviour is for me.”

  “You think you are gonna end up like her?”

  “I fear that as a possibility.”

  “Hey. Relax. We’re not far from the station. Soon, all this will just be a mountain of reports to deal with and nothing more.” Baland shook her and smiled.

  Orvina’s communicator flashed and beeped.

  “Vice Captain, we are within hailing range of the Rylim-Q32 station. Should we hail them?”

  “Speak of the devil.” She said and stood up, dusting off her uniform.

  “I will see you on the bridge, Baland.”

  ***

  Baland watched Orvina as she rounded a corner in the hallway and disappeared from sight. He sighed loudly, lying down on the ammunition crates and staring up at the ceiling, when he caught something out of the corner of his eye.

  “What the?”

  He got up, walking towards the garbage chute, mumbling under his breath something about punishments and pranks. Baland stared at the pale white object, and it stared back at him with empty eye sockets.

  His mind felt hazy as he approached; the closer he got, the worse the feeling became, turning into a throbbing headache once he held the Grumlag skull in his hands.

  “Did someone fish this out of the trash again?"

  The Flarian Chief Officer felt his stomach churn, mouth filling with saliva as an overwhelming sense of nausea washed over him, almost causing him to throw up. Still, he couldn’t let go of the skull, nor could he look away from its hollow eyes.

  It whispered to him. Sounds he heard before and a language he couldn’t recognise. Baland heard wind chimes echo through the cargo bay and the sound of feet running through dry leaves. It ramped up. The chimes became whispers and soon cries of fear. The feet ran faster as if chasing. They sounded innumerable yet coordinated, like a pack in pursuit.

  Through the vacant eye sockets, he was shown hunger. The same one which afflicted Nubela. Insatiable and primal, a desire to consume all, starting with those closest to one’s heart. Baland saw his brother. Vanya's dead eyes, wide in fear and confusion, while his neck lay between a pair of Flarian jaws. He could taste the iron on his tongue, feel the warmth of a fresh kill on his lips, smell the sterile air of his brother’s office, now tainted by the stench of rot and sickness.

  “No more!” He screamed, throwing the skull across the room.

  The visions flashed in his mind as the object clattered on the ground. Suddenly: clarity. Control of his body returned to him as he collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. He wanted to push what he saw deep into the vault of his mind, away from consciousness, but he couldn’t. The images burned themselves into his brain like a cattle stamp.

  “Vanya. Why would I want to kill my own brother?” Baland thought as he slowly rose to his feet, staring in horror at the skull.

  The realisation of what he had seen struck him like a moving vehicle. The medbay. The sick and the malnourished who were held there. The afflicted pack waiting for their master. The one from the visions, the pack leader. The starving beast. It wasn’t him.

  “Nubela,” Baland whispered, turning towards the entrance of the cargo bay and running out into the hallway.