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Recovered from Cub-class corvette Mnesis

Archeology IV

It was my own fault. I was so taken by the discovery of a possible stellar mesh around Armature, I had not been monitoring my fuel situation closely enough. It was sheer luck that there was an, as yet, undesignated, and therefore unexplored station also in-system. It was a gamble as to whether or not its automation would still be functioning enough to crack the mined ice in my hold. These stations had been built to last, the ancient automation which wove the expanse of the Sprawl into being still tending to some of crop. Many of them did have some kind of refinery and fuel extraction mechanism still working, some were even capable of complex manufacturing. On the other hand, a number of these stations had been found to be infested by ferals, or otherwise controlled by hostile automation. My only other chance was to attempt to make it to the Kikheros fabricator three jumps away and I knew I did not have the fuel for that.

Approaching carefully, and sending the handshake provided by the Keep, the station’s automated docking protocol towed my ship into one of the cavernous berths. Feedback from the ship meant that I felt the first bump against her skin hull. Sensors and footage from the lens told me the rest. The docking chamber had air but no gravity. Drifting in the Zero-G, as though dancing in some obscene ballet, were the featureless and sexless bodies of over a thousand clones.

I stared and stared and stared. Despite the distraction I managed to gather the presence of mind to check the station’s systems. I found that it had some limited refining and manufacturing capabilities. The floating bodies were disturbing but clearly no more than a malfunctioning clone production facility somewhere in the station. How they ended up in the docking berth, I did not know. The bodies were, however, perfectly preserved, despite the environment. This meant that they had to be very fresh.  It was only when one of them bumped against the hull and smeared themselves across one of the external lenses that I realised that they were still alive.

I cautiously refitted one of the probes and sent it out to take sample from one of the faceless clones. At the same time, I directed Mnesis’ sensors to scan the floating clones and the docking bay itself. 

The clones’ body temperatures were running at about 35°C with surprisingly little variant. Although they had no facial features, the facial muscles under their skin were locked in the position of a smile. In addition, each of the clones had a micro-transmitter implant. I was about to check the data feed overlay when I received the telemetry from the probe.

The sample showed that the clone relied on cutaneous gas exchange for respiration and that it was in the early stages of dehydration and without liquid its life expectancy was somewhere between 65-100 hours. Furthermore, the clone’s entire system was soaked in serotonin produced by an over-revved gastrointestinal tract. 

These beings were short-lived, biological, happiness machines.

I recalled the probe and checked the data-filter. There were encrypted data streams, presumably bio-telemetry, cascading from each of the clones’ micro-transmitters. I followed the streams to where they coalesced and that’s when I saw it. It must have been there all the time. Presumably being close to the dock’s tractor-assembly had helped confuse my sensors. It was a feral. I have no doubt of that but of a type I had not seen before. It had twelve spider-like limbs arranged around an irregular dodecahedral body. Arrayed on neck-like protrusions from its mechanical body were nine ovoids. On each ovoid, a flayed human face. The mouths arranged in a grin. 

One of the faces was looking at me. Through the lenses. Without eyes. It could see me in my coffin, I knew it could! And it was smiling! 

Engine fuelled, I left the station as quickly as I could.

Archeology IV

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