"A fellow merc. Not a friendly one either. Could be competition. Or worse."
Darius kicked aside another alien skeleton, its bony fingers still wrapped around a damaged blade that looked more ceremonial than practical.
"Whatever went down here, it wasn't clean. We need to stay on high alert. There's no telling what might still be active on this ship."
We moved deeper into the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence our weapons covering each angle.
The alien ship's architecture was a disorienting blend of curves and sharp angles.
The walls lined with strange symbols and glowing panels that flickered erratically as if the ship were struggling to stay alive.
"We should head to the command center,"
I suggested, pulling up a rough layout of the ship on my HUD from our helmets Inbuilt radar.
"If we can find the main systems, we might be able to figure out what's still active and get a better idea of what we're dealing with."
"Agreed,"
Robert said, his voice tight.
"But let's not linger. This place gives me the creeps."
The corridors twisted and turned, leading us through a labyrinth of alien design. Occasionally, we passed more bodies, some slumped against the walls as if they had simply sat down and given up, others caught mid-action, frozen in time by whatever catastrophe had overtaken the ship.
"Weeb, keep an eye on our life support systems,"
I said, noting the growing unease that permeated the ship.
"If we lose them we're screwed."
"Already on it,"
Airid responded, his fingers dancing over his wrist console.
"Everything's holding, we still have plenty of oxygen left."
We turned a corner, our lights catching a glimpse of what looked like a makeshift barricade, alien bodies were piled up against it, as if they'd made a last stand here.
Beyond the barricade, the corridor widened, opening up into a massive chamber filled with alien technology and strange, organic-looking machinery.
"Command center should be just beyond this room,"
I said, studying the layout.
"Stay sharp."
We moved into the chamber, the air thick with the scent of age and decay.
Strange, glowing conduits ran along the walls, casting an eerie, pulsating light that seemed to pulse in time with a distant, rhythmic hum.
"Does anyone else hear that?"
Julian asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Sounds like a heartbeat… or something."
"It's the ship,"
I said, as I narrowed my eyes under my helmet.
"Feels like it's alive. Like it's watching us."
Paul glanced around, his grip tightening on his rifle.
"Just great. Creepy-ass ship, full of dead bodies, and now it's watching us thats a scenario straight out of a horror movie, what's next, f*cking ghosts?"
"Let's hope not,"
Darius muttered, stepping over another skeletal remains.
We pressed on, reaching the far end of the chamber where a set of massive doors loomed.
They were intricately designed, covered in the same alien symbols and faintly glowing as if inviting us in.
"Well, this looks like the place,"
I said, stepping up to the doors.
"Let's find out what's behind door number three."
I pressed my hand against the control panel, the alien symbols lighting up under my touch.
The doors groaned and slowly slid open, revealing the command center of the ancient ship.
It was a vast, circular room with a massive central console that pulsed with dim, alien lights.
Strange, floating screens hovered above the console, displaying indecipherable data streams in an alien language.
And there, sprawled across the floor and draped over the control panels, were more bodies.
Some were alien, others were recent additions, humans, likely other mercenaries, their faces twisted in expressions of shock and horror.
"Looks like they made it this far,"
Julian said grimly, nudging one of the bodies with his combat boot.
"But not much further."
"Fan out,"
I ordered, my eyes sweeping over the command center.
"Find anything useful. Data, artifacts, anything that looks like it could explain what happened here."
As we started tinkering with the ancient consoles, the room buzzed with low-frequency hums and erratic flashes from the alien machinery.
Robert and I shared a glance as the holographic displays flickered. The language on the screens was completely indecipherable, alien symbols scrolling too fast for our helmet cameras to even attempt translating.
"Careful what you're pressing,"
Julian muttered, running his hands across the interface.
"F*cking spaceship looks like it's on life support as it is,"
Paul added, "gently" tapping a broken panel with his rifle butt.
Suddenly, the dim lights above shifted to a blaring red, casting long, ominous shadows across the room.
A loud klaxon echoed through the corridors, followed by a cold mechanical voice speaking rapidly in an alien language. Whatever it was saying, it wasn't good.
"F*ck!"
I cursed under my breath, slamming my hand on the console.
"You just had to smack a console with youre stock didnt you fishman?!."
Before anyone could respond, we heard the unmistakable clank of metal against metal, fast, precise, and coming straight toward us. The sound grew louder, closer, and more frequent.
"Droids! Everyone, take cover!"
I shouted, diving behind a console as my battlebrothers scrambled into defensive positions.
No sooner had we hit cover than the first wave of humanoid looking droids that looked like the murder psycho robots from one of those scifi blockbusters poured into the room, their eyes glowing violet, and their bodies glinting with high-tech alloys.
Without hesitation, they opened fire, violet laser beams searing through the air, leaving scorch marks on the walls and floors.