Pulp

In the deep tumbling expanses of Outer Space, wanders the Ranger of Rogar 8, Captain Galaxar!

Joined as always by his loyal crewmates, Commander Cat and F1D0! See now as they drift towards a silent outpost in the sleek Silver Chariot!

"Captain Galaxar, the outpost is venting atmosphere. No one is responding to hails. Energy readings suggest 99% of the station is powerless!"

F1D0's whirring ears stood to attention. The mechanical canine's whimpers were soothed by the Captain's words.

"Direct us to that 1% F1D0, we might yet have a few survivors."

The doors to the bridge slid open with a beeping whirr. Cat entered calibrating a hand terminal.

"Captain. I suggest sending a probe to investigate. These life scans..."

Galaxar strode confidently to Cat's side, peering into the spinning whirling display.

"One or... One thousand?"

The Captain mused. Cat nodded.

"I don't like this, Captain."

Galaxar took his pipe, a relic from Rogor 8's ancient past, and lit it. The smoke of the Yurt Root swirled around him, like the Rings of Sokoth. Ah Sokoth... Those nights on the diamond beach.

That was a long time ago. Back when Cat was a Kitten and F1D0 a twinkle in the eye of 2 cyberpups.

"If it's one life or one thousand, we owe it to them to try. F1D0! How long til we're in walking range?"

F1D0's snout twitched as he calculated the estimated time of arrival.

"5 minutes, Sir."

Cat stood her ground.

"A space walk is risky and unnecessary. You're too old to--"

Galaxar zoomed past, allowing a brief moment of pause where he and Cat were face to face, his pipe still in mouth.

"Where's your sense of fun, Cat?"

Before she could answer, he sped off to the airlock.

***

The station was dead. A wreck. More a crater than anything. The crew entered a quadrant near enough to the energy spike. Cat's scanner gridded and spotlit what was once...

A school.

Children's drawings limply float around unstuck desks. Shattered glass dividers, frozen like a diorama of an impact. Galaxar picked up a single ice ball of a teddy bear . It was stuck between a floor grate. He stroked its head, the brittle crystals frayed and fractured. Calling it a school now was an insult to life. It was just an empty room. F1D0 found an elevator. Unlike the other two, he could maintain his composure in the vacuum. The organics requiring fish bowl helmets and tight coloured atmosphere suits. His paws played with the terminal. A shuddering vibration reverberated, the elevator door opened. And out... Came another F1D0. A blaster hole scored through its head. It just hung in the air. F1D0 just stayed still, stayed quiet. Cat quietly took the other dog out. F1D0 just stared.

If there was air to breathe, they would reel at the scent of death. How it clung to like a parasite on anything that was once happy.

The three ascended, using the power from a portable atomic charger.

DING

The three entered and bore witness.

There was roaring. Gurgling. Foamy screams. Under the heft of the noise was a sad tired angry man bellowing.

"No!"

He continued.

"Nononononono!"

He stood in front of a vat, or what could be called a cage. He was a shadow compared to it, the writhing mass. Arms folded upon arms, flesh on flesh, at least... A thousand different shades of skin. Stitched, atomically, together. The man, lab-coat clad, furiously attacked the consoles in his reach. Red, fiery red lights, whipped and lashed the scene. The shadows of the man climbed the wretched thing’s mass then shrank towards the small man below.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this! You were supposed to be... Stop! Just stop! Stop screaming! I can't. I can't kill you, I..."

F1D0 barked. The man spun. His eyes. Those eyes. Like a pair of black holes. Vacant maws of just... Nothingness. It was as if he stood at the mouth of Hell, itself.

Galaxar's phase blaster was already drawn. He had seen enough.

"No. You can't kill it. I've tried, it just keeps getting back up!" The scientist shrieked.

Galaxar shuddered. He knew this feeling, the hollow clatter in his soul, this moment would stay with him. Until the stars burn out, until there’s nothing but ashes in the sky.

"I'm not aiming at it." Galaxar spat.

No one said a word after that. The only sounds, in a million million miles... Was the sound of that glass breaking. And whatever it was... Fell.

It tumbled out and with a splat landed on the man.

Galaxar... Cat... F1D0, in all their travels never saw anything quite like that mess.

That mound of pain. That hill of horrors.

That sheer...

Pulp.