We Found a Ship Buried in an Asteroid. We Shouldn't Have Gone Inside.

Hello and welcome back to another episode by Sleepy Pasta. Before you doze off tonight, don't forget to leave a five star review and a comment where you are watching from. Let's begin. I was drilling into Sector 7 when my calm crackled. Austin, you need to see this.

Maurice's voice had that edge to it, the one he gets when he's found something. I checked my drill progress, 83% complete on this vein of Palladium. Good enough I could come back to it later on my way. I said, pulling back on the controls. What did you find?

Another pocket of rare earths. Just get over here. That wasn't like Maurice. He's usually all details and excitement, especially when he finds something valuable. We've been friends since our Academy days, and I know when something's off.

I disengaged the drill bit and secured it to my mining pod. These pods aren't built for speed, just utility. Boxy little things with manipulator arms, drilling attachments, and barely enough room for one person. I maneuvered away from my work site, firing the thrusters in short bursts. The asteroid we were working, asteroid 2187-C in the Kuiper Belt, was about two kilometers across, plenty big enough to justify our six person crew spending three months out here.

The company called it a high potential resource extraction opportunity. We called it a rock in the middle of nowhere. My pod moved slowly across the asteroid's jagged surface. Low gravity meant I had to be careful with momentum. One wrong thrust and I'd be floating off into space waiting for someone to come get me.

Happened to August last month, the kids still getting shit for it. Approaching your position. I said, spotting Maurice's pod anchored near a shadowy depression in the asteroid. What am I looking at? Just get here.

I brought my pod alongside his and secured my anchors. The external floodlights from both our pods illuminated the area. At first I didn't see anything special, just the usual dark, pockmarked surface of the asteroid. Then Maurice adjusted his lights and I saw it. What the hell is that?

I whispered, even though only Morris could hear me over the calm. They're partially exposed by what looked like a recent micrometeorite impact was something that definitely wasn't natural. A smooth, dark surface with straight edges, geometric patterns etched into it. I switched to our private channel. Maurice, tell me that's not what I think it is.

Depends what you think it is, he said. I could hear the tension in his voice. But if you're thinking it's artificial and definitely not made by humans, then yeah, that's exactly what it is. I stared at the object. It was only partially visible, maybe 2 meters of exposed surface, but it was unmistakably manufactured.

The rest disappeared into the asteroid. Have you told the captain? I asked. Not yet. Wanted you to see it first.

That was Maurice always wanting a witness when he found something big. And this was the biggest. We need to report this. I said, already switching to the ship's frequency. Captain Dennis, this is Palmer.

We've got something here you need to see. The captain's voice came through immediately. Define something, Palmer. I hesitated. How do you explain this, ma'am?

It appears to be an artificial structure embedded in the asteroid. Definitely not natural, and definitely not human made. The silence lasted 5 full seconds. Both of you back to the ship now. Her voice was steady, but I could hear the urgency behind it.

Yes ma'am. I said. Maurice's voice cut in. Captain, I think we should. That's an order, Spencer, back to the ship.

We discussed this together. I looked at Maurice through our visors. He was already shaking his head. We're on our way, I said, cutting him off before he could argue. We detached our anchors and fired up our thrusters, leaving the dark object behind.

The trip back to the ship took about 15 minutes. Neither of us said much. What was there to say? We just found proof we weren't alone in the universe. The Horizon, our mining vessel, hung above the asteroid like an industrial cathedral, all angles and utility with its four massive processing arms extended down toward the surface.

We guided our pods into the docking Bay and went through decontamination before entering the ship proper. The entire crew was already waiting in the conference room when we arrived. Captain Naomi Dennis stood at the head of the table, her silver streaked Afro seeming to catch the overhead lights like a Halo. Frederick Singh, our chief engineer, was tapping away at a tablet.

Charlotte Fuller, safety officer, had her arms crossed tight across her chest. August Thomas, the youngest of our crew, couldn't stop fidgeting. Raven Stevens, our medical officer, was the only one who looked calm. Sit down, the captain said. Tell us exactly what you found.

Maurice and I took our seats. I nodded for him to go ahead. It was his discovery. I was scanning Sector 12 when my instruments picked up an anomalous density reading. Maurice began pulling up the scan data on the main display.

At first I thought it was just a concentration of heavy metals, but the distribution was too uniform, so I went to check it out. He brought up the images we'd captured. That's when I found this. The room went quiet as everyone stared at the screen. The object stood out starkly against the asteroid surface.

What exactly are we looking at? Frederick asked, leaning forward to examine the image. Some kind of artificial structure? Maurice said. It's embedded deep in the asteroid.

What we can see is just a small section that's been exposed by an impact. Frederick adjusted his glasses. The material composition doesn't match anything in our database. The patterns on the surface appear to be intentional, possibly writing or decorative elements, more functional, I added. We don't know what it does.

How big is it? August asked, eyes wide with excitement. Can't tell for sure. I said what's exposed is maybe 2 meters across, but ground penetrating radar suggests it extends at least 15 meters into the asteroid. This can't be right, Charlotte said.

There must be some explanation. Maybe it's debris from an old mission or an experimental satellite that crashed. Maurice shook his head. The asteroid's orbit hasn't brought it near Earth in at least 50,000 years according to its trajectory, and those markings aren't in any human language. We need to report this immediately.

Charlotte insisted, looking at the captain. Protocol is clear. Any potential evidence of non terrestrial intelligence must be reported to Earth Command before further action is taken. And wait six months for them to send a research team? Maurice countered.

By then, someone else could find it. We need to investigate now, while we have the chance. Think about what this could be worth. August chimed in, practically bouncing in his seat. The salvage rights alone would set us all up for life.

The company would have to give us a cut. I looked at the captain. Ma'am, with all due respect to protocol, I think we should at least determine what we're dealing with before we report it. We're talking about potentially the most important discovery in human history. Captain Dennis had been silent.

Listening to all of us. Now she looked at Frederick. Sing your assessment. Frederick tapped a few more times on his tablet. The structure is definitely artificial.

The material appears to be some kind of metal ceramic composite, unlike anything in our database. And it's old, very old. The radiation signature suggests it's been embedded in this asteroid for at least 20,000 years, possibly much longer. Could it be dangerous? The captain asked.

Frederick shrugged. Unknown. It doesn't appear to be generating any energy or signals, but without more data, I can't say for certain. Captain Dennis turned to Charlotte Fuller, Prepare emergency protocols, just in case. If we're going to look at this thing, I want full containment procedures ready.

Charlotte nodded stiffly. Yes, ma'am. The captain looked around the table. Palmer, Spencer, and Thomas will investigate. The rest of us will monitor from here.

Full hazard protocols. We document everything. If this is what we think it is, we need to be extremely careful, Captain Charlotte began. I must formally object. Protocol clearly states objection noted.

The captain cut her off. But we're three months from Earth and I need to know what we're dealing with before I send a report that will cause a system wide panic. We investigate, we document, then we report. I looked closer at the image on the screen. The markings on the surface weren't random.

They formed patterns, curves and angles that almost seem to be reaching for something. They weren't human. Nothing about this was human. Gear up, the captain said. You'll leave in 30 minutes.

As everyone dispersed to prepare, Maurice grabbed my arm. Can you believe it, Austin? After all these years, all those empty planets and moons, we finally found something. Proof we're not alone. I nodded, but couldn't match his excitement.

Something about those markings bothered me. They seemed deliberate, like they were meant to be found, like they were waiting. Let's just be careful, I said. We don't know what this is. That's the point.

Maurice grinned. We're about to find out. I headed to the prep room to get my Eva suit ready. Mind racing. In all my years of space mining, I'd seen plenty of strange things.

Geological formations that defied explanation, unusual mineral compositions, even a few false alarms that turned out to be space junk from the early days of exploration. But nothing like this. Nothing that changed the fundamental understanding of our place in the universe. I checked my suit carefully, making sure every seal was perfect. Whatever we were about to face.

I wanted to be prepared, because one thing was certain, after today, nothing would be the same. I'd never seen an airlock like this. It had a circular door about 7 feet across, with markings etched into the metal. If it was metal at all, the material had a dull Sheen that didn't quite match anything I'd worked with before.

How do we get in? August asked, running his gloved hand over the surface. Maurice shook his head. No obvious access panel or handle. We'd suited up carefully back on the horizon, triple checking our seals and oxygen supplies.

Standard Eva suits, but with extra radiation monitoring patches stuck to the arms. Captain Dennis had insisted on that. Now we stood in front of what was clearly an entrance to whatever was buried in this asteroid, but with no clear way to open it. I tapped my calm Frederick. We're at what looks like an airlock, but there's no obvious way in.

Any suggestions? Frederick's voice came through with a bit of static. Sending August a diagnostic tool might help identify any energy signatures or mechanisms. A moment later, August suit computer pinged. He pulled up a small scanner from his equipment belt and began sweeping it over the door surface.

Getting something? He said. There's a faint power signature. Whatever this thing is, it's still active. That sent a chill through me.

20,000 years embedded in this rock and it still had power. I'm seeing a pattern in the energy distribution, Frederick said, obviously looking at the same data August was sending back. Try pressing the three markings at what would be two, six and 10:00 positions. August reached up and pressed his hand against the first, marking.

Nothing happened. He tried the second. Still nothing. Both at once, maybe? Maurice suggested.

August couldn't reach both simultaneously, so Maurice stepped up to help. When they press the 2nd and 3rd markings together, a low hum vibrated through the asteroid surface. One more, Frederick instructed. All three at the same time. I moved forward to help, placing my hand on the 1st marking while they maintained pressure on the others.

The surface beneath my glove warmed slightly, then the entire door recessed about 6 inches into the wall and slid sideways, revealing a dark chamber beyond. We're in, I reported to the ship. Door just opened. Proceed with caution. Captain Dennis replied.

Remember full hazard protocols and keep your comms open. Maurice was already shining his light into the opening. The beam cut through darkness, revealing a small antechamber with another door at the far end. Looks like an actual airlock. He said.

Two stage design. We stepped inside carefully. The chamber was about 12 feet across, big enough for the three of us to stand comfortably. The outer door slid closed behind us with a soft hiss that I felt more than heard through the asteroids vibrations. Door closed automatically.

I reported, fighting down a spike of anxiety. We're sealed in the antechamber. Atmosphere readings? Captain? Dennis asked.

August checked his instruments. None. Complete vacuum, just like outside. The inner door had similar markings to the outer one. Maurice tried the same 3 point pressure technique and it slid open just as smoothly as the first.

We've got access to the main structure, I reported. Moving inside now. We stepped through the doorway into a corridor that stretched about 40 feet ahead before splitting in two directions. The walls were the same material as the airlock, smooth, with occasional geometric patterns etched into the surface. Our helmet lights caught the edges of doorways leading off the main corridor.

It's it's a facility of some kind, Maurice said, his voice tight with excitement. Look at the layout. This is deliberate construction. Spread out. And check the first rooms, August suggested, already moving toward one of the doorways.

No, I said firmly. We stay together, we don't know anything about this place. Maurice nodded. Austin's right, let's clear each room as a group. We moved to the first doorway on the right.

Inside was what appeared to be a control room of some kind. Consoles lined the walls with chairs, actual chairs positioned in front of them. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust, but otherwise looked perfectly preserved. Those are meant for humanoid bodies, August said quietly. Whoever built this had a similar body shape to humans.

Similar but not identical. Maurice pointed out. Look at the proportions. The seats are wider, lower to the ground. I moved closer to 1 of the consoles.

The surface was covered with more of those geometric patterns, some raised slightly from the surrounding material. These might be controls, I said, like buttons or touch interfaces. Don't touch anything. Captain Dennis ordered through the comp. Observe only for now.

We continued down the corridor, checking each room methodically. We found what appeared to be living quarters, spaces with platform like structures that might have been beds, alcoves that resembled storage areas, and even a large communal space with a central table like fixture. It's all perfectly preserved. Maurice said. The vacuum environment protected everything from degradation.

How long has this been abandoned? August asked. At least 20,000 years, based on Frederick's dating of the asteroids movements, I reminded him, Maybe much longer. We reach the junction where the corridor split left or right. I hesitated, feeling increasingly uneasy the deeper we went.

Something about this place felt wrong. Not dangerous, exactly, but significant in a way I couldn't articulate. Let's try left, Maurice suggested. The left passage led to several more living quarters before ending at another sealed door. This one was larger than the others we'd encountered.

This feels like a main chamber, Maurice said. As we work the opening mechanism we'd figured out. The door slid open to reveal a large circular room about 60 feet across. Unlike the other spaces, this one had a raised platform in the center, and on that platform sat a transparent container roughly the size of a coffin.

Holy shit, August whispered. Maurice was already moving toward it, his steps quick but careful in the low gravity. August and I followed are helmet lights converging on the container. It was made of the same, not quite metal material as the rest of the structure, but transparent enough to see what was inside. A humanoid figure, perfectly preserved, as if frozen in time.

It's some kind of stasis chamber, Maurice said, his voice barely above a whisper despite the private calm link. Look at the proportions. Taller than a human, maybe 7 feet, thinner limbs, larger cranial structure. The figure inside was vaguely humanoid, but definitely not human. Its skin had a pale, almost translucent quality.

The head was larger than a human's with no visible hair, and the limbs were longer and more slender. It wore what appeared to be a close fitting garment of some kind. Is it alive? August asked. No way to tell without proper equipment.

I said We need to report this and wait for instructions. I tapped my calm Captain. We found something significant. There's some kind of stasis chamber with a preserved specimen inside. Definitely not human.

There was a moment of silence before Captain Dennis responded. Can you get clear images? We need to see what you're looking at. August activated his suit's camera and did a slow pan around the container, transmitting. Now we could hear the muffled exclamations from the crew watching back on the ship.

This changes everything. Maurice said quietly. Actual proof of intelligent alien life. We should bring it back to the ship. August said suddenly.

The container looks self-contained. We could study it properly there. No, I said immediately. That's not a good idea. We don't know what's in there or if moving it would trigger something.

Austin's right, Captain Dennis said through the calm. We should wait for a specialist team. Frederick's voice cut in. Actually, I've been analyzing the container's structure. It appears to be a self-contained unit with its own power source.

If we're careful, we should be able to disconnect it from the platform and transport it intact. That's a big risk, I argued. We're minors, not see no biologists, but we have Doctor Stevens, Maurice countered. She has advanced medical training, basic medical training for human emergencies, I corrected. Not for studying alien biology.

I've studied xenobiology. Raven's voice came through the calm. It was part of my training for deep space missions. While I'm not a specialist, I am qualified to establish quarantine protocols and conduct preliminary examinations. I could feel the momentum shifting against me.

Everyone wanted to bring this thing back. Let's put it to a vote, Captain Dennis said. All in favor of bringing the specimen back under strict quarantine. 1 by 1. The voices came through in favor, in favor in favor.

When it came to my turn, I hesitated, opposed, but I'm outvoted. Then it's settled. The captain said Frederick will talk you through safely disconnecting the container. Use extreme caution. Following Frederick's instructions, we carefully examined the base of the container where it connected to the platform.

There were four connection points that appeared to be securing it in place. Those look like locking mechanisms, Frederick said after studying the images we sent. Try rotating the outer ring counterclockwise. Maurice and August positioned themselves on opposite sides of the container while I stood back, still uncomfortable with the whole operation. They gripped the barely visible seam around the base and turned slowly.

With a soft click, the container released from the platform. A row of lights I hadn't noticed before illuminated along its side. It's free. Maurice reported, and still powered. Whatever's preserving the specimen is still working.

Let's get it back to the ship, Captain Dennis ordered. Use the cargo harness to secure it. We attached the cargo harness we brought along, just in case we found anything worth retrieving. The container was surprisingly light in the asteroids, minimal gravity, but still unwieldy due to its size. Moving carefully, we backtracked through the structure, the container floating between us on the harness.

Every step felt wrong to me, but I kept quiet. The decision had been made. Back at our mining pods, we secured the container to the cargo hooks on Morris's pod. The three of us climbed into our separate pods began the journey back to the horizon. 15 minutes later, we were docking in the ship's cargo Bay.

A quarantine area had already been set up, with Doctor Stevens waiting in a hazmat suit. The container was carefully moved into the sealed section of the Bay. I'll begin preliminary scans immediately. Raven said as she examined the container. This is remarkable.

The preservation is perfect. After decontamination, we gathered in the conference room for an evening briefing. Everyone was talking at once, excitement overriding standard protocol. Quiet, please, Captain Dennis said sharply. Dr.

Stevens, your initial findings. Raven pulled up her preliminary scans. On the main display. The specimen appears to be in some form of suspended animation. There are several anomalies in its cellular structure that don't match any known biological patterns.

The container itself is maintaining an extremely cold temperature, essentially keeping the specimen frozen. Is it alive? August asked the question we all wanted answered. That's difficult to determine in its current state. Raven replied.

There are what appeared to be extremely slowed metabolic processes, but I can't confirm life without better analysis. Which brings me to my recommendation. I want to partially thaw a small tissue sample for better analysis. I couldn't stay quiet any longer. Is that safe?

We have no idea what we're dealing with here. Raven turned to me. I understand your concern, Austin, but I'll maintain strict quarantine protocols throughout the process. The sample will remain in a sealed environment, and I'll use robotic manipulation tools to avoid direct contact. What if it carries some kind of pathogen our systems can't detect?

I pressed. The quarantine chamber has its own air supply and filtration system, she explained patiently. Nothing goes in or out without passing through decontamination, and we're talking about a microscopic tissue sample, not reviving the entire specimen. Captain Dennis considered this. Proceed with the tissue analysis, Doctor Stevens, but maintain maximum containment protocols.

I want hourly reports. After the briefing, I tried to get some rest, but sleep wouldn't come. I lay in my bunk, staring at the ceiling, that persistent sense of foreboding growing stronger. Everything about this felt wrong. Not just bringing an unknown alien specimen aboard, but how easily we'd access the structure, how perfectly preserved everything was.

After thousands of years, it was like it had been waiting for us. I checked the time, 2:57 AM ship time. Almost 3 hours of lying here with my thoughts running in circle. I sat up thinking about getting some water or maybe checking on the quarantine Bay when the ship's alarms suddenly blared to life.

The sound jolted through me as red emergency lights began flashing in my quarters. I fumble for the light panel, banging my elbow against the wall in the process. What the hell? I muttered, already pulling on my jumpsuit. The emergency lights pulsed red across the ceiling, casting everything in an eerie glow.

I shoved my feet into my boots without bothering to lace them and stumbled into the corridor. Other crew quarters were opening, Frederick appearing in boxers and AT shirt, Charlotte already dressed. What's happening? She called over the whale of the alarms. The ship's automated voice cut through.

Medical emergency in science Bay. Medical emergency in science Bay. My stomach dropped the specimen Raven had been planning to thaw a small tissue sample. I took off running, my unlaced boots slapping against the deck plating. Austin, wait.

Frederick shouted behind me, but I didn't slow down. I sprinted through 2 sections, past the mess hall in storage toward the science Bay. The corridor seemed longer than usual, stretching out as my lungs burned. As I rounded the final corner, I heard screaming. Not the alarm, human screaming.

I slammed my palm against the door panel and it slid open with a hiss. The scene inside hit me like a physical blow. Maurice was on the floor, thrashing violently, his back arching at an impossible angle. His limbs jerked and twisted, foam bubbling from his mouth. Raven knelt beside him in her hazmat suit, trying to hold him down while fumbling with a hypodermic.

Help me, She shouted when she saw me. I rushed forward, dropping to my knees beside Morris. His eyes were rolled back, showing only whites. I grabbed his shoulders, trying to keep him still. What happened?

I demanded, struggling to hold him as another convulsion ripped through his body. Raven finally managed to inject something into his neck. I was preparing to extract a tissue sample. She said, her voice shaking even through the suit's calm. Maurice came in to check on my progress.

The container, it malfunctioned. Something came out, Something. I echoed, feeling cold sweat break out across my back. I don't know what it was, she said. It was small, fast.

It attacked him before I could do anything, Jumped at his face. Maurice's convulsions were weakening, but his breathing had turned ragged and wet. A dark stain was spreading across his jumpsuit from the center of his chest. We need to get him to medical, I said, looking around. Where's the thing now?

Raven gestured toward the inner lab door. In there. I sealed it when I triggered the alarm. I, Captain Dennis and Frederick arrived then, both breathing hard. The captain took in the scene with one quick sweep of her eyes.

What's the situation? She demanded. Something attacked Maurice, I said. It came from the specimen. We need to get him to medical now.

She nodded sharply. Frederick, help Austin Raven, stay in that suit. I want full quarantine protocols. Frederick and I lifted Maurice between us. He'd gone limp now, his head lolling forward, but his chest rose and fell with shallow, gurgling breaths.

We carried him out into the corridor, Raven leading the way toward Medical. I want to see what happened in there, I told the captain as we moved. She nodded. After we get him stable. The journey to medical took less than two minutes, but it felt like hours.

Maurice hung between us like a broken doll, occasionally twitching. When we reached Medical, we laid him on the central bed. Raven immediately began attaching monitors and setting up an oxygen feed. His vitals are all over the place, she reported, her voice clinical now professional training taking over, elevated heart rate, blood pressure dropping, temperature rising rapidly.

Will he be OK? I asked. She didn't answer, focused on inserting an IV line. I need to see the lab, I said, turning to Captain Dennis. She hesitated, then nodded.

Frederick, stay and help Raven Austin with me. We jogged back to the science Bay. The main room looked like a hurricane had hit it. Equipment scattered, a tray of instruments upended on the floor, drops of blood creating a dotted trail. The inner lab door was sealed with a red quarantine light glowing above it.

Override Stevens A7, the captain said to the door panel. It beeped in acknowledgement and the door slid open. The smell hit me first, coppery and wrong, with an underlying sweetness that made my stomach turn. The captain switched on her wrist light and I did the same. The beams cut through the dimness of the labs emergency lighting.

The containment unit sat in the center of the room, its top shattered The specimen, what was left of it lay on the examination table. It's chest cavity had been torn open from the inside, ribs splayed outward like the petals of some nightmarish flower. The creatures large head remained intact, its eyes closed as if in sleep, but everything below the neck was a ruin of tissue and fluid.

Jesus, the captain whispered. I moved my light across the floor, following a trail of viscous fluid that led from the table to the far wall. It disappeared into a ventilation grill that had been pushed out of place. It went into the vents. I said, pointing.

The captain stepped closer to examine the opening. It couldn't have been very big. The grill's barely disturbed. Big enough to do that. I gestured at the specimen's chest.

And big enough to hurt Maurice. She tapped her calm. Frederick, what's the status on the ventilation system? His voice came back strained. Not good, Captain.

We're in lockdown. Life support is functioning, but isolated to each section. I can't access the main controls from here. Can you track movement in the system? Negative, those sensors aren't designed for that kind of precision.

The captain cursed under her breath. Stay in medical, we're coming back. We sealed the lab behind us and hurried back to medical. When we arrived, Raven was bent over Maurice, checking readings on a monitor. Frederick stood a few feet away, his face pale.

How is he? I asked. Raven shook her head. Not good. His system is in some kind of toxic shock.

I've given him anti inflammatories and a broad spectrum antibiotic, but without knowing what we're dealing with. Maurice's eyes suddenly flew open. They locked onto mine, filled with a terror that froze me in place. His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with surprising strength. Kill me.

He rasped, his voice barely recognizable. Austin, please kill me. Maurice, we're going to help you. I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Raven's got you.

He shook his head violently, his grip tightening. No, too late. I can feel it inside me moving. A spasm shook his body and he arched up from the bed, a scream tearing from his throat. The monitors began beeping frantically as his vital spiked.

Raven rushed forward with another hypodermic, but before she could administer it, a wet cracking sound filled the room. Maurice's chest bulged upward, his jumpsuit stretching. Another crack, louder this time, and dark blood soaked through the fabric. His rib cage was distending, pushing outward, as if something was pressing from inside. Oh God, Frederick whispered.

Maurice's eyes found mine again, pleading. His mouth worked, trying to form words, but only a gurgling sound emerged. Then his chest split. There's no other word for it. His sternum cracked apart with a sound like breaking branches, and blood fountained upward.

I stumbled backward, horror freezing me in place. Something moved in the cavity of his chest, something wet and dark and wrong. Get out. Captain Dennis shouted, already backing toward the door. Everyone out now, Frederick was already moving, dragging Raven with him as she tried to reach for more instruments.

I couldn't move, Maurice had been my friend for 15 years, I couldn't just leave him. Austin, the captain yelled, grabbing my arm. Now that broke my paralysis. I turned and ran for the door, the wet sounds of tearing flesh following me. We burst into the corridor and the captain slammed her hand on the emergency seal.

The door slid shut just as something hit it from the other side with enough force to dent the metal. Oh my God, Raven was saying over and over. She'd removed her helmet and her face was sheet white. Oh my God. Frederick bent over, hands on his knees, looking like he might vomit.

The captain leaned against the wall, breathing hard. I just stood there, staring at the sealed door, my mind trying to process what I just seen. What was that? I finally managed. What the hell just happened to Maurice?

It was changing him. Raven said, her scientific mind already trying to analyze despite her shock. Some kind of accelerated mutation or transformation. I've never seen anything like it. A heavy thud came from inside medical, followed by the sound of shattering glass.

We need to get to the mess hall, the captain decided. Regroup with Charlotte in August, figure out what we're dealing with. We moved quickly through the corridors, jumping at every sound. The ship felt different now, hostile, full of shadows. When we reached the mess hall, Charlotte and August were already there, looking confused and frightened.

What's happening? Charlotte demanded. The alarm stopped, but the ship's in lockdown. Where's Maurice? August asked, looking behind us.

I sank into a chair, suddenly exhausted. How do you tell someone their crew mate just turned into something else? The captain took charge, her voice steady despite everything. We have a situation, she said. The alien specimen we brought aboard it wasn't dead.

Something came out of it and attacked Maurice. Charlotte's hand went to her mouth. Is he OK? No, I said flatly. He's not.

He's dead or worse than dead. What does that mean? August asked, his young face scrunched in confusion. I looked up at him. It means something was inside that specimen.

It got inside Maurice somehow, and it changed him right in front of us. His chest burst open and there was something moving inside him. A heavy silence fell over the room. August looked like he might cry. Charlotte had gone pale.

So what do we do? Frederick finally asked. We need to contain it, the captain said. Whatever it is, it's loose on the ship now. We need to find it and neutralize it before it can harm anyone else.

How do we kill something we know nothing about? Charlotte asked. The captain didn't have an answer for that. None of us did. We sat in silence, the reality of our situation sinking in, Six of us on a mining vessel millions of miles from help, trapped with something that could turn us into monsters.

A distant crash echoed through the ship's corridors, metal against metal. We all froze, listening. The sound didn't repeat. It's in the ventilation system, Raven said quietly. It could be anywhere on the ship by now.

The next 12 hours were the longest of my life. We tried to stick together, arming ourselves with whatever tools we could find. Cutting torches, mining picks, a bolt gun from engineering. Frederick rigged the internal sensors to try to track large heat signatures moving through the ship, but the system wasn't designed for that.

We got too many false positives. We set up a base in the mess hall, barricading the vents. The captain tried to send a distress signal, but our communications array was damaged. Whether by the creature or just bad timing, we couldn't tell. We were on our own.

August was the 1st to go. He'd volunteered to check the engine room, make sure our life support systems were still functioning properly. Frederick went with him, but they got separated when a coolant line ruptured. We heard August screams over the calm, a wet gurgling that cut off abruptly. Frederick came running back, wild eyed and gasping.

It got him, he panted. It was on the ceiling, just dropped on him. I couldn't do anything. We lost Charlotte and Frederick together. They were trying to reach the escape pods, thinking we could abandoned ship.

The creature had been waiting in the access corridor. We heard the commotion over the comms. Charlotte scream, Frederick yelling for her to run, the sound of the bolt gun firing three times, then silence. That left just me, the Captain, and Raven. We'd retreated to the bridge, sealing every door behind us.

Raven was in shock, barely responsive. The Captain and I tried to come up with a plan. We can't kill it conventionally, I said, pacing the small space. We don't even know what it is. No, she agreed, studying the ship's navigational display.

But we can kill everything. Look. She pointed at our position, then traced a line to the nearest star, a white dwarf. About 3 days journey at full thrust. If we override the safety protocols, she said, we can set a collision course.

No way anything survives that. A suicide run, I said flatly. She met my eyes. You have a better idea? I didn't.

We'd seen what this thing could do. If it reached any populated area, a station, a colony, Earth, the consequences would be unimaginable. Raven, the captain said, turning to the medical officer. I need you with us. Can you help us program the course?

Raven looked up, her eyes haunted. We're all going to die anyway. She said softly. It's just a matter of how. The captain nodded.

Then let's make it count. We worked quickly, overriding safety protocols, disabling the automatic course corrections. It took both the Captain's authorization and mine as senior crew to lock in the final commands. As we finished programming the coordinates, the ship's computer dispassionately informed us. Collision course said impact in 68 hours 14 minutes.

Now we just need to make sure it stays on course. The captain said, straightening up from the console. Nothing can change these coordinates. That's when we heard it, a soft scraping sound from above us. All three of us looked up at once.

The ventilation grill in the ceiling bulged outward, metal groaning. Run. The captain shouted, pushing me toward the secondary exit. Get to the emergency beacon. Launch it.

The grill gave way with a screech of tearing metal. Something dark and glistening dropped into the bridge. Bigger now, much bigger than it must have been when it first emerged from the specimen. It moved with a terrible liquid grace, its body elongated and insectoid, but wrong in ways I can't properly describe. The captain shoved me through the door.

Go, she screamed. I'll hold it here. I saw her turn back, saw her draw the cutting torch we'd brought. The creature lunged forward with horrifying speed, its front limbs, too many limbs, wrapped around her torso even as she triggered the torch, its blue flame catching the creature's carapace. It screamed, a high, piercing sound that hurt my ears, but it didn't let go.

Instead, its head split open, revealing rows of teeth like metallic needles. It drove this nightmare mouth into the captain's shoulder as she screamed. I slammed the door shut and ran, the sounds of tearing flesh and the captain's dying screams following me down the corridor. The escape pod Bay was just ahead, three more sections to go, two more doors.

I could make it had to make it. Someone's got a worn Earth. I said out loud, my voice sounding strange in the empty corridor. I passed through the mess hall. Everything left just like it was.

Coffee mugs still on tables, someone's data pad showing the schedule for next week. Next week that would never come. The ship felt massive now that I was alone, Just me and that thing and whatever was left of my crew. I stopped at the final door, catching my breath. The escape pod Bay was on the other side.

I punched in my access code and the door slid open. The Bay was dimly lit, emergency lighting. Only four pods lined the wall, their hatches closed. Standard procedure. They'd be ready to launch.

I took two steps in before I saw her. Doctor Stevens. Raven was standing by the control panel. Her back was to me, but I could tell something was wrong. Her posture was off, too rigid, and her head tilted at an unnatural angle.

Raven. I said, my voice barely above a whisper. She turned slowly. Her face was still recognizable, but parts of it had changed. Her skin had a grayish tint, and there were bulges along her jaw that pulsed beneath the surface.

Her eyes were cloudy, pupils expanded until almost no iris remained. Austin, She said, but her voice sounded wrong, like 2 voices speaking at once. You shouldn't have come. I took a step back. Raven, what happened?

I thought you were with the captain. The captain is gone. She said, taking a step toward me. We're changing Austin, becoming something better. Her neck cracked as she tilted her head further than a human neck should bend.

You could join us. I reached for the cutting torch on my belt. Stay back, Raven. It doesn't hurt, not really. She took another step.

Something moved beneath the skin of her forearm, rippling like a snake under a blanket. Just a moment of pain, and then clarity. I don't want clarity, I said, backing up toward the door. I want to go home. Home.

She repeated, as if trying to remember what the word meant. There is no home anymore, just us. She lunged at me. Suddenly, faster than I expected. Her hand caught my jumpsuit, fingers digging in with impossible strength.

I triggered the torch, the blue flame igniting between us. I'm sorry, I said, and I meant it. I swung the torch at her, catching her across the chest. Her jumpsuit caught fire immediately. She screamed, a sound no human throat could make, and stumbled back, her body engulfed in flames.

I didn't wait to see more. I ran past her burning form to the nearest escape pod, slapping the access panel. the Hatch slid open and I threw myself inside, hitting the emergency seal button. the Hatch closed with a hiss of air. My hands shook as I strapped myself in and activated the pod systems.

The console lit up, running through pre launch diagnostics. Outside the small viewport I could see Raven still moving, still burning, her body twisting in ways that defied anatomy. I entered the launch sequence, setting coordinates for the nearest outpost. The computer calculated the trajectory, showing me the flight path and estimated arrival time. 47 days long time to be alone in a pod, but better than the alternative.

My finger hovered over the launch button, then I stopped. The realization hit me like a physical blow. If I left now, if I just ran away, what would happen? The horizon was already on a collision course with a star. But what if it didn't make it?

What if the creatures, the parasites, somehow survived? What if they managed to change course? Worse, what if they could survive in space? What if one of them hitched a ride on my pod? I thought about Earth, about home, about Madeleine waiting for me.

I couldn't risk it, couldn't risk taking this thing back with me. I changed the pods programming, setting new coordinates not for the outpost, but for Earth. Then I set the launch timer for 10 minutes. I recorded a quick message explaining what we'd found, what had happened. I attached all the ship's data, the scans of the structure, the images of the alien, everything.

The warning needed to get back, even if I didn't. This is Austin Palmer, mining engineer, on the horizon, I said to the recorder. We found something out here, something that shouldn't be disturbed. Don't come looking for us, just stay away from this sector. I finished the recording and set it to transmit continuously once the pod reached communication range.

Then I unstrapped myself and moved to the Hatch. 1 deep breath, then another. I opened the Hatch and stepped back into the Bay. Raven's body was still smoldering on the floor, but it wasn't moving anymore. I didn't look too closely as I passed it back into the corridor, back the way I came.

If the ship was going to reach that star, someone needed to make sure it stayed on course. The bridge was my only option. The journey back through the ship was the longest walk of my life. Every shadow looked like a threat, every sound made me freeze, but I made it to the bridge without encountering anything else.

The bridge door had been torn open from the inside. The captain's body was gone. I didn't want to think about where or what it might be now. I stepped carefully over the twisted metal and entered the bridge. The main console was still functioning, showing our trajectory toward the star.

We were close now. The NAV screen showed we'd reached the corona in about 40 minutes. I sat in the captain's chair and checked the ship's systems. Life support was failing in several sections. Hull integrity was compromised in two areas.

The reactor was stable, at least. I opened the communication panel and began recording a final message. Madeline, it's me, I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I don't know if you'll ever get this. I hope you do.

I hope you understand why I couldn't come home. I told her everything. About the structure we'd found, the alien in suspended animation, the thing that had burst from it and infected Maurice, about what happened to the crew, About my decision to stay with the ship. We found proof. We're not alone out here, I said.

But some discoveries come with a price. I couldn't risk bringing this thing back, couldn't risk it reaching Earth. I heard noises in the corridor outside, scraping sounds, inhuman vocalizations. They were coming. I need to go now, I said.

Just know that I love you, that I'm thinking of you right at the end, that every day with you was worth it. I ended the recording and sent it on all emergency frequencies. Someone might pick it up. Maybe. The noises outside grew louder.

Multiple creatures from the sound of it. What was left of my friends and colleagues now transformed into something else. I looked around the bridge for somewhere to hide, somewhere to make my last stand. The captain's emergency shelter caught my eye, a small reinforced compartment designed to protect the commanding officer during catastrophic hull breaches or other emergencies.

I crossed to it quickly, opening the heavy door and stepping inside. It was small, barely room to sit with its own air supply and a tiny viewport. I sealed the door just as the first of the creatures entered the bridge. It had been Frederick once. I could tell from the remains of his clothing, though his body had been twisted and expanded, his limbs elongated, his face barely recognizable beneath the chitinous growths that had sprouted from his skin.

More followed August Charlotte, shapes that might have been the Captain or Maurice, hard to tell now. They moved around the bridge, sensing I was nearby but unable to locate me in the shelter. I checked the NAV display on the small console in the shelter. 30 minutes to the star. I just had to last that long.

The creatures became more agitated, scratching at the walls, the floor, searching. One of them, the Frederick thing, looked directly at the shelter, it's clouded eyes seeming to focus on me through the viewport. It approached, pressing what had been its face against the thick glass. I turned away, focusing instead on the NAV display.

25 minutes now. The ship shuddered as we entered the star's gravitational field. The creatures reacted to the movement, becoming more frenzied in their search. The Frederick thing began pounding on the shelter door, the metal denting inward with each impact. 20 minutes.

The temperature in the shelter began to rise as the ship moved closer to the star. The hull would start breaking apart soon. The creatures seem to sense the danger, their movements becoming more desperate. Through the viewport I could see the star now, a blinding white mass filling the bridges main view screen. The light was painful to look at directly.

The shelter's temperature warning flashed red. Outside, the creatures were screaming. Their bodies smoking as the bridge heated beyond survivable levels. 10 minutes The first hull breech alarm sounded. The ship was coming apart.

The creatures tried to escape the bridge, but the doors had sealed automatically due to the breeches. 5 minutes The viewport glass began to warp from the heat. The shelter's cooling system was overwhelmed and sweat poured down my face, my back. The air became difficult to breathe through the distorting glass. I watched as the creatures bodies began to blacken and crumble.

The stars, radiation and heat were too much even for them. One minute. The ship shuddered violently. The main view screen shattered as the bridge's outer hull gave way. The vacuum took the creatures, their remains pulled into space.

In an instant. The shelter held, but the heat was unbearable now. The metal walls glowed red around me. I watched through the viewport as the ship broke apart, chunks of the horizon spinning away into the stars. Corona.

Whatever these creatures were, whatever they might have become, they were dying with the ship, with me. The shelter's walls began to melt. The air turned to fire in my lungs. I closed my eyes and thought of Earth, of home, of Madeleine. At least they would know.

At least they would be warned.