I shouldn’t be awake. Crust-locked lids struggled to break free from the icy grasp of cryosleep, flittering apart to the flare of emergency lights and blaring klaxons. Beyond the condensation-slick glass of my pod, the familiar corridors of The Amnesty had been overtaken by darkness, sporadically illuminated by bursts of crimson. The serpentine hiss of purged coolants and releasing pneumatics rattled my ears as the door gave way and gravity exerted its cruel influence; I collapsed.
The impact against cold alloy floor jarred my frozen body into motion, limbs twitching with electric impulses. With agonizingly slow movements, I managed to rise to my feet, assisted by an array of auxiliary cybernetics. Their systems lagged, but they performed their function well enough: a step forward, then another. My legs buckled under the weight, sending me back down to my knees. A series of coughs wracked my lungs, expelling cryogenic fluids. It felt like I was hacking up slushy chunks of ice.
Floors that should have been a polished metal were instead floated in a chitinous layer of organic growth. Tendrils of pulsating matter wormed their way along the walls, snaking into vents and exposed conduits. Rigid buttresses of semi-transparent mucous lined the corridor, accented by geometric pillars of a similar material. The air stank of of an unfamiliar musk underlined by pheromonal sweetness, a heady aerosol cocktail that sent my thoughts swimming.
The Amnesty drifted dead in space, powerless and riddled with infestation, that was obvious. What came next was entirety upon me. I rose to my feet, finding support on a pylon of sculpted resin. Oddly enough, it appeared to have been constructed as a half-measure to seal a breach within the ships interior hull; gelatinous webbing sealed off a jagged scar of sundered alloy. Had we suffered collision? How long had I been under? Questions for later, I needed to find another crew member - preferably alive.
As if responding to my thoughts, I heard something further down the hall. Movement beyond the translucent husk of the tendril barrier caught my attention; a silhouette approached. As it neared, I could make out more details: a form not entirely humanoid yet recognizably bipedal, broad shoulders tapering into a narrow waist, four arms ending in taloned fingers, a distended abdomen below a swollen thorax, a pair of compound eyes glittering above a tripartite mandible. An alien creature of immense size approached, towering at over two meters tall. Its foremost hands pursed together in an almost meditative clasp. A tendril of telepathic intrusion grazed along my unprotected psyche. ‘Kneel.’
A command echoed within my mind, impossible to disobey. My joints folded beneath me, bringing me down to a kneeling position, submissive before the invader. It approached, looming over me, talons unfurling. One hand found purchase in my hair, while another grasped my chin, tilting my head upwards. Compound eyes gleamed as a third hand caressed my cheek, talon tips dragging across soft flesh. My breath hitched as one of them teased the edge of my lip, drawing blood.
‘Fragile, but less so than others; you still live. Dead vessel. Has been for many cycles. My repairs are rudimentary but sufficient. Be not afraid.’
Its voice was a discordant buzz, layered by a cacophony of voices both masculine and feminine. Telepathic speech bypassed any need for vocalization. Even still, the creature spoke aloud, perhaps for my benefit. It released its hold, leaving me reeling.
It continued.
‘I am the last of my kind; calamitous destruction of home world. Circumstances dictate genetic extraction from male for reproductive purposes. My anatomy is suited for storing your genetic material in the efforts of chimeric procreation. Will you provide material willingly?’
Plates of iridescent chitin separated at the base of its abdominal crest, a membranous film of pinkish tissue quivering in the stale air. The adaptive vulva squelched, hungrily, a suckling aperture rimmed by serrated lips, eager to receive genetic material. While undoubtedly alien, the organ’s purpose and design scratched a Neanderthalic itch, offering a reprieve of softness amongst rigid chitin. Its musk intensified, washing over me, forcing salivating obedience. A primordial urge resonated within me, instinctual and raw.
‘Is this orifice adequate?’ This time, the creature telepathically intoned not in a chorus, but a whimsical solo. ‘You will not be discarded. Offspring shall require knowledge of their progenitor species. Of their father. Acquiesce is appreciated.’