Beef. We’re having beef for supper. Beef for breakfast, beef for lunch, beef for dinner, beef for supper. I’d take bland soup instead of it, but we still haven’t figured how to use the room that passes for a kitchen here.
“I’m thinking of giving up. Those other ships… They’re too far off already. We can keep circling the Moon for a while longer, but eventually we have to land.”
I’m not going to think about the barcode at the side of the lump of beef I got.
“So, in a way our dear captain won. We have to land on Earth. If not for else, to restock our supplies. And we need a new crew.”
That we do. As soon as it became apparent that the captain was the real traitor, and that she was planning to pin it all on us, we really had no choice.
“But I think we should wait a while longer before we do anything. Perhaps try and see if we can contact anybody on the surface. We need more info about what’s going on down there before we can land.”
----------------------------------------------------------
There’s only so much you can do with a blowtorch, so we eat most of the beef rare, or very, very well-done. Logan prefers rare, I’ll stick to charred version. And I’m slowly learning to use the kitchen. Well, it’s not a kitchen per say, just a collection of containers attached to each other with wires and tubes. There are switches and meters controlling the flow of different fluids. There’s a unit what probably passes for a kind of an oven. One tube, thicker than rest of them runs through it, and I believe that the fluid is supposed to get warm in there.
“We have been eating this shit so long… I think it’s time to have some rations for a change. Fuck. I was thinking we shouldn’t touch those, who knows how long we can spend time for restocking, but…”
Yes. Rations it is. Energy bars, sweet paste and bottled water.
“Eat up.”
He really doesn’t have to say that.
“Don’t choke on it. We have no doctor on board.”
We did have, but Logan chopped him up with the rest of the crew. They were all supporting the captain. All after us, ready to stuff us through the airlock and reclaim the ship as their own. I can still see it in my mind’s eye.
----------------------------------------------------------
“Brainless bastards! Do you people even understand what’s waiting for you?”
Logan. Standing in front of me, shielding me.
“You people have no idea of what they’re like. No idea of how it feels when the embryo slides down your throat. No idea of how it feels when it starts to grow and feed from your innards.”
And I swear to God, I wish he wouldn’t have to know about that either. But he does.
“And that’s not the worst part. You may squirm and scream a little when you feel those small teeth taking chunks off from you, but the worst part is when you realize, that somehow that fucker has to come out. Eventually it will come out, and all you can do is to lie still and wait.”
They all seemed to listen him up to a point when our good captain reminded them about the weapons stored to large crates all around us in cargo bay. That’s when all hell broke loose and all bets were off. From there on we were game, and they were just a pack of hunters.
None of them seemed to realize that touching my bare skin was a bad idea.
None of them seemed to realize that touching me at all was a very bad idea. Though few of them seemed to get the point after Logan simply cut off head from those who came after me, but then it was already too late.
----------------------------------------------------------
It was a bitch to mop off the blood afterwards, but I wasn’t complaining. Logan did most of the work, first hauling the bodies in to a freezer near the kitchen, then helping me to strip them before they froze stiff.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000