Stranded: Mind Poison

Chapter 3: Mind Poison

"Turn away."

"Stop."

"Flee."

There were voices all around them, making demands, pleading, and ordering them to vacate the closer they got to the command core. A certain sense was laid bare within the words and if the trio had been less determined to reach the end of their journey they might have listened. Regardless, no matter how loud the cacophony became, they were able to resist.

"I think Obsolus have a greater resilience to the..."

Not a single one of them remembered where they had come from to get to this point, but it didn't matter because they were going forward irrespective of the consequences. There was a poison at the center of the ship that was spilling out everywhere and if they allowed it to permeate the ship they could lose everything.

"Detana Andra—"

At first, Ref didn't recognize the rank designation or even her own name. The words seemed to come through the illusory threats shouting around them, but this voice had a greater quality to it. This came from something real and not imagined dangers that existed just beyond their sight. She struggled with remembering how to respond to the hauler.

"This is..." her name was still a difficult memory to recall as they spiraled closer to the source. "There is poison on the ship. Don't board it. Don't board no matter what. You should flee and bring back something to destroy the liner." Ref was sane enough to know that this ship should have been vented into space a long time ago but something or someone had prevented that from happening.

The ship had impacted something long ago, but the survivors hadn't fixed it to protect themselves: their minds had been poisoned. They were working a different agenda to preserve the prisoner that they had brought out here to safeguard the rest of civilization against. Ref was beginning to understand how they might fall under its sway, especially if this was a human-only ship.

Obsolus appeared to have a resilience to the effects.

"Further on." Quinton was moving forward like he was wading through a river flowing the opposite direction. Every step was calculated and difficult in execution, but he kept his momentum and didn't succumb to the pull.

Ref looked back and saw that Zatak was faring better. He rolled normally, but his eyes were hidden deep inside his armored helmet. Did his armor provide extra resistance to the voices? He seemed like he might be saner than the rest of them, but he didn't speak or even acknowledge her when she peered back.

The voices fled and the river's current drained away. They were left with only the burning purpose of reaching the command core and destroying everything within.

"Are we good?" Ref asked.

"Kinda." Quinton sounded good, but his response left something to be desired.

"The screaming is... quiet." Zatak was with them though he must be regretting signing on with them.

Ref recalled the interview like she was observing it through a long dark tunnel. He was their compatriot if extremely new at working in the Out-Fields. She wondered if he would sign on for another mission if they survived this one.

"We're nearing the command core." Ref felt both exultation and trepidation at the thought of what lay beyond.
"Barricade," Quinton said. He stopped and looked over the hastily constructed sheeting that covered what should have been the entrance. "Was it always like this?"

"Probably new," Ref offered.

Hastily constructed, but whoever had put them up knew how to fuse metal together. Regardless, Ref felt confident they could blow through it relatively easily, especially with Quinton's superior strength. She approached the metal, feeling the heat from the melt-points. It was recent, perhaps moments before they had arrived.