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February 23, 2514 - Novus IV - Omicron Station
//POWER SYSTEMS DAMAGED ATTEMPTING AUTOMATED REPAIR//
//LIFE SUPPORT MALFUNCTION//
//MULTIPLE SYSTEMS OFFLINE//
//COMMUNICATIONS OFFLINE//
//PLEASE CONTACT AN ENGINEER//
The alarms and automated messages had finally stopped, but the lights were out and the cold was seeping in. The power must be out. The emergency lights were off too, which meant that something was seriously wrong with the station. Any attempts at long-ranged communications were met with a haunting silence, either everyone was dead, comms were down, or maybe even both. Those things finally stopped banging on the doors as well, but maybe they had just found another way in.
What were they? They looked like humans, if said humans had been dropped off of a skyscraper. Their screams were ear shattering echoes that sounded like nails on a chalkboard and their eyes were empty but lit by a horrible glow. They had rushed out of the vents ripped everyone to bits, some were lucky enough to get away. Those who survived managed to get to safety were either locked in rooms, hiding under debris, or somewhere outside. It was clear that few people were still alive on Omicron Station.
Omicron Station was built in four separate pieces called Installations. Installation 01 was home to the main generator as well as the administration buildings. Installation 02 was housing, habitation, and landing pads. Installation 03 was the mining site and I-04 was for equipment repair and the communications array. The Installations had been given nicknames by the residents of Omicron Station. I-01 had taken the name Powerhouse, I-02 was called The Nest, I-03 had been named The Digsite, and I-04 was usually referred to at the Garage.
Though each of the Installations served a different purpose they all were now dark, cold, and quiet; the silence only occasionally broken by the crack of gunfire, the harrowing screams of someone’s last moments alive, and then the sound of them being torn apart. With the emergency lights out it was clear that both the main power generator located at Installation 01, as well as the backups at each of the Installations were all offline.
It only took hours for the monsters to silence the station, and they were now lurking the hallways waiting for their next kill. Those that survived were likely filled with questions.
“Was this an attack?” “What were those things?” “What caused this much damage to the station?” “Are the other Installations suffering from the same fate?”
The answer to the questions was obvious, or rather FINDING the answer was obvious. They had to go outside, they had to find someone, they had to contact Earth.
Those who survived only did so because they were quick enough to get away, quick enough to hide. They had time to grab few things, maybe a weapon and some ammunition. Some were injured but the Medical Packs were all stored at Habitation. In the end, they knew it was time to go outside and face the horror of what happened.
Virgil Casey
Virgil jumped as an electrical box sparked in the corner of the room. He’d locked himself inside a closet after grabbing a Plasma Cutter and some batteries for it. His heart was pounding and sweat dripped from his brow within his helmet, it stung his eyes. The only sounds in the room were his panting, his heartbeat, and the distant echoes through the building. He’d been in here for hours, originally locking himself inside when those monsters flooded the room.
“Okay, okay. I need a plan, something.” Virgil paced through the room, which was arguably too small to pace in. As the adrenaline finally began to wear off, the feeling that could only be described as “oh shit” began to settle within his mind. The conspiracies that he’d followed and gone crazy because of were now no longer conspiracies, they had become a horrible reality that Virgil no longer wanted.
“Can anyone hear me? Is anyone alive?” Broadcasting on all communications channels, Virgil was met with silence. Assuming everyone was dead, he reached the conclusion that he too would be dead if he couldn’t find a way off the frozen planet.
Virgil released the lock on the metal door and it slid open with a pneumatic hiss. The lights from his helmet revealed the horror and he recoiled in shock. There were limbs everywhere, blood was splattered on nearly every surface, and the room was in ruins. There had been twenty people in this room merely hours ago, but now there were only body parts.
Though he couldn’t see them, Virgil was sure his knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the Plasma Cutter. He remembered the names of the books that he’d read about these monsters, but he couldn’t remember what they said. Fear pushed everything out of his mind, except for one sentence.
“Cut off their limbs.”
A sentence that was scratched into the back of his brain, he couldn’t never forget the most important message. It was written on his RIG, on his bunk, even on his tool kit which had gone missing in when the Necromorphs attacked. Virgil knew that he needed to get to Installation 1, from there he could run a diagnostic on the entire station.
“If anyone can hear me, my name is Virgil. RIG Number 071 dash 427. I’m on my way to the Powerhouse. If you’re alive, get there. Our chances of not dying are much higher if we stick together.” Virgil broadcasted another message on all channels. Though communications was down, RIGs were equipped with short-range transmitters and receivers and if anyone was nearby they’d likely be able to hear at least a little bit of his message. He didn't expect anyone to listen to his message, but it was worth a shot.
After taking a deep breath, Virgil stepped outside into the cold and began his trek to Installation 1. Usually they’d use ships or transports to get around, but with the power and comms offline there was no way to locate a vehicle. He wasn’t even sure if there were any vehicles left working. When the outbreak began, people did whatever they could to survive, but Necromorphs are relentless. Those who got into vehicles were either swarmed, or destroyed.
Even through his RIG, Virgil could feel the cold wind whipping against him. He silently hoped that there were no storms brewing, but without being at Installation 1 he had no way to tell. The occasional burst of gunfire startled him and he would raise his weapon only to be met with the howl of the wind, his destination was only a few kilometers away but Virgil was unsure if he would make it there alive and in one piece.[/hr]