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“Hey you! New guy! Get your ass off the terminal and come here- please!”
Kirby glanced up from his notes, carefully shutting his pocket book and taking the terminal back to the homescreen. Instead of throwing himself out into the unforgiving snow of Rend like he usually does, he decided to spend this trip making sure his notes were accurate with the information on the terminal. Obviously he wasn’t the only Xenozoologist The Company had employed, so it was pertinent to make sure he stayed up to date on what his peers were adding to the logs. It provided great jumping off points when planning and setting up experiments, plus the rush of pride when he can either expand upon, or disprove their ideas.
Like most scrapper teams his contribution to science as a whole wasn’t particularly appreciated, but it was silly to let that get to him. It was harder to ignore the exasperation often found in their tones, but he puts aside his pride for now. He does still take the time to push in his chair, much to the scrapper’s frustration.
“Finally , look, I know we haven’t started off on the best foot here,” They begin, hands exaggeratedly gesticulating with each word. “But I- we need a favor. You’re like an alien specialist, right?”
“Xenozoologist.”
“Yeah that.” Kirby’s eyebrows lift slightly as they breeze right past his correction. Suddenly he is paying a bit more attention to what they have to say. “So you probably understand how to deal with most aliens, yeah?”
“...Yes,” Kirby begins, taking his time with his thoughts despite the scrapper’s urgency. “Is there something that needs taking care of? I had assumed you all were a fairly capable bunch but-”
“We are!” They interrupt with indignation, before letting out an irritated sigh. “We are , but this… this is something different. I’ve been with this company for 4 years, and I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m… I’m fairly sure Jack’s already dead- but K and Triss are still inside and won’t know what’s coming!” By process of elimination that meant he was talking to Paige, it was hard to keep track of names when scrappers came and went so often.
“And what actually is coming?” A quick glance at his watch reveals it is only around 3pm, but creatures who toughed out the harshness of Rend and similar moons rarely stick to a schedule.
“Some sort of masked, mimic guy, but it’s the biggest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen! We were following the lights back from the main entrance when Jack saw some scrap half buried in the snow about 5 meters out. We assumed it was something some other suckers left behind or something, but when he went to grab it something grabbed him!” As if to emphasize their point Paige grabbed Kirby by the wrist which he quickly pulled away from. “Jack barely had a chance to start screaming before it was on top of him. I was going to go rip that asshat a new one but it was armed, like, properly armed!
“It had like uh, like some sort of sword. Huge an’ sharp, about the size of my whole arm!” Paige lifts his arm in the air, gesturing to it with increasing panic. “Obviously I made a run for it but I could hear Jack screaming the entire time. I’ve never seen a masked that big, and it was smart too! Setting traps for us- rat bastard.”
“Yeesh,” Kirby whistles, stepping away from Paige as he takes in the information. “Sounds like we got a real nasty turned employee, no wonder you were so freaked out.” Despite his sympathetic words he didn’t sound too sympathetic as he took to the main monitor. A few button clicks pulls up Jack’s tracker, a little blue spot in the snow. While its view seemed to be moving slightly, it was far more similar to the gentle sway of a cocooned employee than the determined hunting of a masked. Beside it was another dot, red in color about 3 meters off from Jack. It also didn’t seem to be moving like masked usually did, instead sitting there perfectly still, an ambush predator. Humming to himself, Kirby pulled out his notebook and flipped to an empty page to write something down.
“Do…do you think you can handle it?” Paige asks, having joined him at the monitor. You didn’t need to be a behavioral specialist to see how anxious they were, clinging to one of their tank straps like a lifeline.
“Probably! But I’d suggest you send out a transmission to your teammates. If they go right out of the fire exit then straight down they should hit the back of the ship.”
“...Right.” Paige turns towards the terminal to do just that and soon a transmission reading “use back” flashes across his eyes. Due to his goggle visor design he gets one in each eye, making it dizzying to attempt to read. Eventually he’ll have to try and fix that.
“Now you stay here and watch the monitor, and be ready to shut the doors,” Kirby explains, putting his notebook away again and approaching the storage closet. While his backpack was mostly there to hold his spare oxygen tanks, it still functioned like a regular hiking backpack. He always brought his own supplies onto scrapper ships, you never knew when a large nylon net might come in handy. “I’ll see if me and Juno can go restrain it.”
Juno lifted his head from his lap upon hearing his name, standing up with a yawn and a stretch. Juno was an eyeless dog puppy, around 2 years old and roughly the size of a mastiff. Kirby had snatched the little thing from its parents during a territorial scuffle and has been raising it himself. Even though he was so young Juno was incredibly smart, and his sense of smell and hearing had come in handy more times than Kirby could count. The little metal tag attached to Juno’s collar clinked against the ship floor before Juno straightened up and trotted over to Kirby’s side. Paige flinched away slightly, but Juno had proven himself unlikely to attack people the quotas Kirby had him on the ship.
“I’ll be back in an hour or two, unless I die of course. If that happens I recommend leaving while you still can.” Paige nods solemnly, and Kirby stifles a snicker. The likelihood of him dying was pretty slim, this was not his first rodeo, and if things got that hairy he’d just teleport back! The personal teleporter built into his suit wasn’t just for aesthetics after-all.
“Good luck,” Paige adds as the pair approach the ship entrance, though Paige only gets a wave of acknowledgement from Kirby. While appreciated, the luck wasn’t really needed.
Kirby checked his notebook for a third time, making sure the net was exactly where it was supposed to be. A large stick had been shoved into the ground half a meter away from its center so he would be able to find it, even as the snow began to cover the net up. Where he stood was another stick, marking the end of the rope tied to the net’s far end.
It was a simple plan really. Using himself as bait and Juno to help herd, he’d get this masked into the center of the net and pull it over them. While it’s confused and struggling he’ll have Juno get atop it so he can disarm it properly, Juno was easily 180 lbs and should be able to push most masked around. Some rope and possibly an amputation or two will make it easy to transport back for study! Or… more likely the crew will force him to go ditch it somewhere, but he felt confident in his persuasion skills.
Grinning to himself beneath his helmet, Kirby metaphorically rolled up his sleeves and began trudging away from his trap. Juno plodded after him, not particularly happy in all this snow but willing to follow his owner wherever they went. The path had been methodically planned out, the trap around 17 meters away from where the masked was staking out. As he got closer to his destination he could see the shape of someone, half buried in the snow but still flailing around slightly. As he got closer it became clear this was what was left of Jack.
Weirdly the snow around him was mostly clean, besides the dark viscous “blood” masks used to convert employees. Jack’s upper body looked entirely unharmed, though his keen eyes noticed what seemed to be a few puncture wounds in his suit and down his back. The most obvious one was the one in his tank, the actual hole fairly small but the decompression turning it into a proper burst, almost resembling a geyser. Kirby knew better than to get too close even if ‘Jack’ looked pretty harmless at the moment.
Skirting around him, he and Juno continue forward. A little less than 3 meters away from Jack’s body sat a large pile of abandoned scrap, the blizzard slowly filling in the numerous footsteps around it. Their target was clearly over there, likely hidden in the snow waiting for some idiot to try for the extra loot or, perhaps, try and rescue their teammate’s body. Bending down besides Juno, he whispers the instructions before giving him a little pat. Excited to be helpful, Juno takes his position, about a foot or so behind where their target is. Kirby stays down though, grabbing a handful of snow and compressing it tightly into a ball.
Straightening up and taking a step bag, he slowly winds his arm up for the throw. The moment it leaves his hands he turns around and starts running, hearing the clang of his iceball hitting a metal sheet near the top of the pile. Almost immediately after he hears a large eruption of snow and clatter of scrap hitting each other, and he risks a glance back. Breaching the snow like a human shaped Earth Leviathan, the mask lunges forward with a gleaming weapon to where he would have been. Finding nothing but snow, it looks up in confusion and suddenly locks eyes with him.
It starts sprinting faster than he can react, though thankfully he already had a head start.
“JUNO COMERE BOY!” Kirby yells into the blizzard, hearing a bark in response somewhere behind him, though he can’t glance back to check. The pounding footsteps of his pursuer are getting louder and louder, alongside the incomprehensible gibberish coming out of its mouth. Paige was not joking, this thing was a beast, and he was suddenly becoming a lot more anxious about his plan. He didn’t particularly have the luxury of doubt though.
Legs pumping as he fights his way through the snow, it is incredibly relieving to see a familiar pair of sticks coming into view. He pushes himself even harder, gaining some distance between himself and the masked as he skirts around the edge of the net and towards where the rope end would be. The seconds digging through the snow for it as the mask charges forward is nerve wracking, but he suddenly finds the end and grabs it, yanking it harshly as he turns around.
For a brief moment all he can see is the looming mountain that is the masked, backlit by the path lights and diving for the kill, before the other end of the net flies forward. The mask’s own weight keeps its end of the net on the floor, allowing the other end tied to the rope to wrap over it and take it to the floor. Juno, who was chasing behind them, springs into the air, landing with a thud on top of their captive. Scrambling to his feet Kirby rushes towards the net, grabbing ahold of the mask’s arm to wrench the weapon out of its hand. It’s carelessly flung out into the snow and he grabs the rope from his back.
A lot of struggling and rope later he finally gets the masked tied up in the net, whistling for Juno to hop off its writhing form. No longer fighting for his life he could actually get a good look at it. The host body was clearly stationed at one of these snowy moons, and built like a bear. It was wearing a thick blue and yellow snow suit, the fluffy trim of its hood almost resembling a mane. Attached to the back of its backpack was a far scarier looking weapon than the icepick, as it was definitely an icepick he threw into the snow, it was wielding earlier, resembling more of a pickaxe someone took potshots at. Quickly he removes that, attaching it to his own bag for the time being.
The thought that it was intentionally using a less ‘lethal’ weapon to maul Jack so other employees might not realize he was dead at first was a scary thought, and an incredibly enticing one.
“You are fascinating.” He declares, leaning in towards the masked employee who had finally stopped hissing and writhing. Perhaps it thought he might be dumb enough to get close enough to turn, but he stays just out of range. Partially hidden beneath a backpack strap and fairly faded was a nametag, declaring the host to be “Clay”. He’ll look into missing employee reports when they land to sell things, but it wasn’t too important now. “Hopefully the rest of my crew will agree, I’d love to study you further!”
Making sure the ropes were still firmly around it, he carefully lopes the other end around Juno’s wait.
“Come on boy, let’s get this guy home!” Juno barks happily in response, trudging forward after Kirby as he drags Clay’s unhappy body behind.
Kirby’s teammates did not find Clay nearly as interesting as he did, screaming and threatening him until he finally agreed to dump the masked outside. Obviously he took a few notes and pictures and measurements first, but eventually it was time to leave. Juno helped him drag the struggling Clay into the abandoned cabin by the facility and Kirby sat it upright still tied in ropes and net. He knew he should try and damage the body so the mask will have to abandon the host, hopefully finding something a lot less lethal, but the very thought made his heart hurt. To lose such a valuable research subject would be unthinkable!
He unhooks the scary ax thing from his bag, setting it on the opposite end of the room from the masked. Maybe it’ll get eaten by Dogs or Forest giants or some other beastie they hadn’t discovered yet, or maybe…just maybe it’ll get free eventually. If it does it’ll probably appreciate having its weapon back, and he doesn’t really need it does he?
“Hopefully we’ll see each other again, big guy,” Kirby remarks, freeing Juno from the rope and whistling him over. “And hopefully when we do, my crew will be more willing haha!” He nudges Juno out the door, shutting it behind himself. Already he could hear the broken pleas and cries of the masked, likely mimicking sounds it had heard before to lure in the overly empathetic. They fade into the blizzard as he returns to the ship though, and he sighs longingly.
At least he got some good notes out of it.