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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Where to Go After the Cargo Hold?
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After the cargo hold, where to next?
In truth, I already had my destination set.
'Let's head to the cooling chamber next to the reactor.'
Even in the space age, humanity hadn't changed much in how they handled heat. Right beside the nuclear fusion engine—the ship's heart, or reactor—there was a cooling chamber responsible for temperature control.
'The cooling chamber is a critical facility, so not many people visit it.'
Strictly guarded as a top-priority area, but flip that around, and it meant few visitors. The classic "darkest under the lamp" scenario. As long as I didn't physically tamper with the cooling chamber itself, the area around it was perfect for avoiding surveillance while growing stronger.
Another advantage: its location, right next to the reactor.
Even if my presence got exposed, the cooling chamber made for an easy last line of defense.
'Worst case, I wreck the reactor and cooling chamber and bolt.'
If the cooling chamber malfunctioned, the reactor would follow suit. A ship with a damaged heart had no choice but to halt operations.
Once it stopped, all the life-support systems maintaining the internal environment would shut down too.
They might scramble with auxiliary engines at first to revive the ship, but that wouldn't last. Just like a creature with a destroyed heart couldn't cheat death, neither could a vessel.
If there were no planets nearby for an emergency landing, the crew's fate was sealed.
Just the pathetic end of killing each other to survive a little longer in dwindling oxygen.
Of course, if the ship ground to a halt, I'd lose my ride too, so attacking the reactor would stay my absolute last resort.
'Alright then, time to move.'
Before setting off, I devoured two more calorie bars. With my belly full, I leaped up to the ceiling. Tiny suckers between my claws gripped my body firmly against it.
Apparently, insects climb walls thanks to suction-cup-like structures called pulvilli. They secrete a sticky substance from them, letting them scale smooth surfaces with ease.
Thanks to the same kind of secretion from the suckers between my claws, I could scuttle along the ceiling upside down without a hitch.
Standing inverted, I padded lightly along until I spotted the vent entrance.
It looked like a child-sized window fan, with a metal grate screwed in place on the outside.
Inside, massive blades whirred relentlessly, emitting a menacing hum.
'Ripping through that grate is still beyond me.'
Much as I'd love to smash in dramatically, Hatchling form wouldn't cut it.
Even those thin wires were made of high-tech special alloy. Slamming my claws blindly would just snap them.
'Here, I'll borrow the power of intellect.'
I stood on my hind legs and unscrewed the bolts holding the grate. If the ship's humans had put more thought into security, they'd have welded it shut, but luckily, these were the types who set cargo codes to 1234.
The first barrier blocking the vent fell easily to my claws. Next up: the fan blades welcoming me from within.
'This is the real hurdle.'
I had two ways through: time it perfectly to slip past the blades, or grab something to jam them.
Obviously, the latter was off the table.
Doubtful some random object could wreck those sturdy alloy blades, and even if it did, the malfunction would alert the super AI controlling the ship. It'd report the new error to the humans instantly, leaving me with nothing but pursuit and death ahead.
'Gotta get through this.'
Now it was time to rely on Aemorph abilities.
Charge in blindly, and those blades would dice me into sashimi. So I held position, waiting.
As I did, my auxiliary organs began compiling data: airflow patterns, energy fluctuations at the blade joints, and more.
My highly evolved vision wasn't idle either, zeroing in on the rotating blades to pinpoint weaknesses in the precision machinery.
How much time passed?
The auxiliary organs detected iron oxide particles in the air and fine metal dust whipped up by the wind. My vision caught how the worn blade joints slowed ever so slightly at specific points.
With all that intel from my eyes and organs reviewed, my brain issued the command.
Jump. Now.
'All or nothing.'
Trusting my Super Sense, I dove into the fan.
The merciless machine god swung its scythe. The air pressure from the slicing blade battered my carapace relentlessly.
Human instincts screamed to bail, but my tiny Aemorph heart showed no tremor. Thought was a luxury; every sense focused solely on dodging the guillotine.
The fan blade whistled past the tip of my tail by a hair's breadth. The reaper's touch had missed its mark.
I survived.
'I lived! I made it!'
As a human, I'd have whooped and laughed, but my mouth wasn't built for it. All I could manage was a eerie, hissing cry.
Savoring the thrill for a moment, I pressed on.
The vent was a labyrinthine maze, but my Super Sense rendered it no obstacle.
The ship's veins, usually silent, buzzed today with the clamor of an intruder. Whistling winds through vents everywhere mingled faintly with the clack of my claws on metal.
'Spiders around.'
The spiders and flying insects I encountered en route made for fine snacks on the long trek. Cockroaches, spiders—fat and thriving despite spaceship life. No risk of hunger or energy dips along the way.
Munching a spider leg, I felt residual heat fading from the passage via my claw tips. Proof the cooling chamber was near.
Hurrying along, my auxiliary organs hit the brakes. Something important ahead needed checking.
'Hm?'
Not visible yet, but light waves rippled from not far off. After ten minutes of nonstop scurrying on all eight legs, a metal grate appeared in the floor.
I perched on it and peered below. People in white coats bustled between massive test tubes and incubators.
'A lab? Isn't this a regular ship?'
With all the food and weapons in the cargo hold, I'd pegged it as a supply or trade vessel. A lab?
If this ship was a research vessel, that wasn't bad for me at all.
"Hey, how's subject 026 looking?"
"Failure again."
"Tch, the team lead's gonna flip."
"It's from Earth. Even the captain's tiptoeing around it—what can we do?"
"Sigh. Let's call it for today."
Once the two men exited the lab, I unscrewed the grate and dropped down.
'Judging by their looks, Mega Corp folks.'
Mega Corp: a human faction thriving around the solar system, basically Earthlings as the base model.
Per lore, megacorporations ruled instead of governments, with most members hardcore materialists.
Space Survival featured various human factions, mostly neutral, but Mega Corp skewed evil due to their setup.
'Only they'd cyborg healthy people into slaves.'
Mega Corp grabbed the poor or aliens, modded them into war slaves via procedures. One of their racial traits called "Employment"—super beneficial in-game, tempting even pacifists to abuse it.
If they did it in a game, reality must be worse. The lab air reeked of lingering blood.
'What to do.'
My auxiliary organs pinpointed the gene sample fridge, but I couldn't act rashly.
'Timing's key.'
Evolution for Aemorphs wasn't just collecting gene essence.
To pass Hatchling, an essential condition: devour a living sapient being. In other words, to become a Juvenile, I had to kill and eat a human.
'Kill a person, huh.'
No issue in the game, but in reality?
I might think it easy now, but hesitation up close would end me. My body was fragile enough for a child to kill—I needed a one-shot finish.
'Until I'm resolved, better hold off raiding this place.'
The gene samples tempted, but scarfing them here would make evasion impossible. I'd tackle the lab after claiming my first human meal.
'Just scout what's here today.'
This ship's research focus would shape my path dramatically.
A facility breeding Hulk mutants for ground combat? I'd gain tough bodies and fighting prowess. Or experimenting on space elves, the Cult's psionics? Powerful psychic powers for me.
'Personally hoping for Cult, but psychic powers this early? Unlikely.'
I mobilized every sense to probe the lab.
Unlike the dim, grimy cargo hold, pristine white walls enclosed it.
Seemed worlds better visually, but paradoxically, bright surfaces hid death and agony.
Test tubes held living human brains, abducted creatures submerged in chem baths. Incubators hummed as AI monitored embryos with electric signals.
Chemical stenches, buzzing EM waves, blood and rotting flesh odors, pheromones of unwitting suffering—data flooded my brain. Amid the auxiliary organs' torrent, one oddity stood out.
'Help? Asking for aid?'
A lifeform signaled me via wavelengths imperceptible to humans.
Intrigued, I traced it to a test tube.
[026]
A pink, droplet-shaped creature bobbed inside the tube marked "26."
'Bubble Amoeba.'
Bubble Amoeba: non-player critter from ocean planets. Floats like a water droplet, ambushes prey with digestive juices when close.
Large ones might threaten, but palm-sized, they were harmless. Cute and innocuous in the brutal Space Survival world, popular for users seeking癒し.
Aquarium pet type—didn't expect sentience, let alone it approaching me. As I neared, it pulsed another wave.
｢Pain. Help.｣
Couldn't translate precisely, but Aemorph senses got the gist. It was suffering some reason, begging my aid.
'What to do.'
Could eat it, but per memory, its trait was useless to Aemorphs: "Oxygen Storage," supplying air in vacuums. Handy for others, pointless for oxygen-independent Aemorphs.
'Pass on eating. Want to help, but no clue how.'
Probing the tube for clues: circulating mixture in the thick hose below, sensors checking liquid integrity, faint electric currents atop the fluid.
'Electricity?'
A small sensor clung to its body, wired and zapping it periodically.
Understanding its plea, I climbed the adjacent terminal.
Biometric graphs and AI experiment logs flickered on the screen.
'Those researchers were griping about this.'
Whining about failure as they left, probably forgot to shut it down.
I pressed the button to halt the experiment. The sensor's weak shocks ceased; it perked up. The pink droplet blinked gratefully.
｢Thanks.｣
'Thanks, huh.'
Didn't feel like I deserved it. If it had something I needed, I'd have drained its essence without mercy. Just indulged a whim for this harmless, useless thing.
'Live and let live.'
Doomed in a Mega Corp lab regardless. Wished it some comfort in its final days as I left.
Thirty minutes into the ducts, temperature plunged. Water droplets beaded the walls; thin frost coated the floor.
Finally, above the cooling chamber.
'Perfect. Time to build a nest.'
I scraped up wall droplets and gulped them down. Gargled briefly, then spat.
Pure water moments ago, now mutated inside me into a toxic substance deadly to non-Aemorphs.
This gum-like muck, chewed and expelled, extended nearby Aemorph vitality and boosted Super Sense.
Once I papered the duct above the cooler, I'd monitor half the ship from here.
I repeated the rinse-and-spit routine.
Soon, the passage transformed into an Aemorph haven.
Sticky, venomous, filthy contamination.
In this space any creature would loathe, I sprawled out. Cozy as a womb, I closed my eyes.
'I can feel it. The ship feels like my own body.'
What's most crucial to winning a war?
Information.
Mega Corp humans versus me, the Aemorph.
They don't know me, but I know them. Where they are, what they're doing, where they're headed, who they're talking to—all relayed through the slime coating the ducts.
They'll never know.
The war's already begun, and they're losing.
In the pitch-black nest, I smiled silently.