1 Virus C-19
Hovering in space above a green and blue planet is a large spacecraft.
Inside that spacecraft, a screeching alarm blares from the cockpit, drawing the attention of the only moving occupant inside. The lights in the control room turn red, creating a dark glow against his black armour plates. The metal blends with a thick cloth, covering the entire spanse of his muscled body. A sleek black helmet encases his head, and while the tinted visor prevents anyone outside from witnessing his identity, he doesn't have any trouble seeing through it.
"Warning: Homosapien Extinction." A female robot voice says through the speakers on the panel. A hologram of the planet below him rotates above a round table. Next to it is a list of basic information gathered on it.
Planet: Norin 1658 - 7
Hospitable: Confirmed
Dominant species: Homosapien
Virus C19: Confirmed
The man steps up to the platform, furrowed brows pinched together. His armoured finger taps on the planet and the hologram image enlarges, the description beside it replaces with the image of the dominant species. The homosapien is nearly identical to the man's figure. They both have two arms and legs, all attached to a torso. However, any similarities stop at that.
Except the image before him isn't how he remembers them. The smooth skin is no longer intact, ripped and torn from the bones. The tissue inside reveals parasites eating away at what is left of it. Black shot eyes stare back at him, head tilted yet still holding up despite the fact that a huge chunk of it is missing.
No, this isn't right.
"Tell me what happened." The man demands the computer, his voice muffled from behind his helmet. His fists clench at his sides, his stomach churning at the sight.
"Virus - C19. It attacks neural-"
"I know that already!" He shouts at the computer of his spacecraft. "Why are they like this?" He waves at the holographic image of the deteriorating species.
"Virus - C19. It attacks neural pathways and motor functions." The computer repeats. "Stage one: Increased appetite for raw meat. Stage two: Body decomposition. The virus will begin to eat away at the host's muscle mass and fats."
As the female voice continues to explain what he already knows, the black armoured man rubs at his helmet.
"Did they find a cure?" He rephrases his question, his voice tight with tension.
There's a moment of silence before the computer speaks.
"Negative."
He growls and slams his clenched fist on the table. The holograms before him glitch at the sudden force.
"What the hell is he doing down there?" He asks himself more than the computer.
"Mission Zero is unresponsive. Failure." The computer continues. "Proceed to Mission Five Release?"
The man glances towards the glass wall that separates him and the sleep chamber. Six cryopods attached to the ship's wall stare back at him, almost mockingly. While five of them glare green blinking lights, the only sign of their occupancy, one holds red, signifying the empty space inside.
The spacecraft lurches forward and he curses as he slams into the table. The black armor at his hip takes most of the hit, leaving behind a dull ache.
Another set of alarms begin to sound.
"Warning: Unidentified spacecraft is attacking. Shields forty seven percent damaged. Repairs required." The robotic woman's voice continues to list the damage as the spacecraft jolts once more.
With an urgency that wasn't there before, he presses a series of buttons on the control panel and an image of the craft attacking appears.
"How did they find me?" He whispers in horror at the ship that looms before him. It's much larger than his, the chances of him getting out alive are slim to none.
He curses in his native language, a slurry of harsh consonants and even harsher vowels. He jumps out of the cockpit and runs towards the sleep chamber. The glass doors slide open, and for the first time he notices just how slow they are to slide apart.
With a grunt of displeasure and urgency, he forces the doors open with his hands. When the doors are open enough for him to barely fit through, he squeezes past them, his plated armour scraping against the edge.
He runs to the crypods hooked to the walls and stares at them. They have been stuck in there for so long, the images of the faces inside flashing in his mind.
"You'll be let out early, I'm afraid." He talks to them, despite knowing the inhabitants inside can't hear him. "You all can thank Zero for that." He mutters bitterly. His armored suit gleams from the red alarms blaring from the cockpit. He messes with a screen on the first pod, then with a hiss, the cocoon machine shoots out into space. He doesn't stop to watch as the cryopod falls down to planet Norin 1658 - 7.
He continues to do the same one after the other, each one heading down towards the planet below. When he comes upon the last one, he hesitates. He peers through the acrylic glass, eyeing the pale face below. Thick black hair frames her face, her brows narrowed as if she is forever stuck in a nightmare.
He glances back to the cockpit, and can see the image of a light canon charging. He hesitates, sheathed fingers hovering over the eject button.
"Damn it," he hisses. The canon fires just as he hits the screen.
The spacecraft explodes, metal scraps and glass flying out into the void that is space.
A crypod emerges from the smoke, spinning at the massive force.
Meanwhile, down on Earth a hooded figure watches as multiple flaming objects fall from the sky.
One, two, he counts them. Four in total.
He frowns and holds out his arm in front of him. Then he rolls up the sleeve. He slides his finger across his forearm and a hologram screen appears.
Connection Lost
"Did he not make it in time? Or did he get cold feet?" He quietly asks himself. His hands, covered in fingerless leather gloves clenched into fists at his sides.
He continues to scan the sky, and the tension in his shoulders ease at the sight of a fifth object coming into view.
Good.
When another doesn't appear he sighs and scratches his head, "He didn't make it in time." He murmurs. If he had, there would've been six, not five.
"Damn it." He grunts. He flicks his finger across his arm again and the hologram disappears. His gaze returns to the glow of flaming objects that hurtle down.
The trajectory of the fifth crypod attracts his attention. His vision zooms in on it, the target he sees through his eyes noticing the way it spins out of control. For a split second, time slows down enough for him to see the engraved words written into the metal of the cryopod: Project One.
He curses in a strange tongue, as time returns to normal and he zooms back out from the falling object. He glances at the other cryopods, each heading in different landing points.
"The rest of you will just have to wait." He mutters, then begins to walk in the direction of the chaotic object that tumbles in the sky.
