The ghoul managed to reach the bumblebee and tether himself to the spacecraft. He released the line that connected him to the Ankara and climbed along the landing crafts hull until he arrived at the cargo hatch in the back.
Punching in the code and authenticating it with his bracelet, he opened the hatch and could finally enter. With the magnetic boot, he could walk up to the cockpit and sit in the pilot's chair.
Fortunately, the systems started without a problem. He ran a full system check and found that the bumblebee was miraculously undamaged. With the help of Ankara's board computer, Len was able to find the hangar it originally belonged in.
With a whole side ripped away, it was the least damaged hangar left on the ship. it seemed that the impact had ripped the ship loose from its locking device and drifted out.
Carefully he steered it through the field of debris toward this ripped open hangar. The ghoul just had to fly in through the hole and properly lock down the bumblebee inside.
Every bump and hit when a box or parts from a destroyed machine hit the hull, made Len twitch nervously. Although he had the knowledge and experience, this was the first time he actually did this himself.
It was harder than expected to simply let the "acquired instincts" do their job. The ghoul heaved a sigh when he finally entered the hangar. The biggest hurdle was taken. That was what he thought before he saw the locking device.
Usually, the space crafts would be locked to the floor using inlaid rails. Seeing the hangar form within, Len found these rails completely ripped out from the floor. It was impossible to simply repair these.
The ghoul was forced to find another way to secure the bumblebee inside the ship. After a moment of silence, he had an idea. After fixing the bumblebee in place using cables and tether, he once again floated into the void.
There were two this he did not lack here. Time and raw materials. Len collected big pieces of the hull, machinery, and broken landing crafts to, piece by piece, weld the hole in the hangar shut. he made the welds thick and strong.
Len nodded to himself in satisfaction, upon seeing his done work. The result was ugly but durable. He had even found a not too bent out-of-shape cargo latch from a bigger landing craft and built it into the wall. it did not function, but Len was sure he could fix it somewhen in the coming century.
Checking with Ankara, he found that he had spent almost 20 hours "fixing" the hangar with his ugly patchwork. He returned inside and took off the spacesuit. Although he was not hungry yet, he had a ready-made meal waiting for him in cryogenics.
Meckart's body, the female welder, was still waiting for him in the crew room. it was good he had turned off the life support systems. While he was outside working, the inside of the ship had started cooling down.
It was not to the level of outside, since the systems would have problems operating, but the general temperature aside from important sections had fallen below 10°C. Together with the overall cleanliness of a spacecraft, this meant Meckarts boy was still deliciously fresh.
Munching on her hand, Len sat on a bench on the observation deck and watched the stars outside move by. Using the silence, he thought about the changes in his body. He felt a distinct change in strength and was puzzled about the reason.
The ghoul had no idea how much time had passed when he got an idea. He had finished eating the body some time ago. What if he ate a doctor? Len had some wild guesses made based of instinct, but what if he gained medicinal knowledge and expertise?
Then he would definitely be able to find out what was going on with him. Once he found the reason for his improvements, maybe he could do it purposefully. Who didn't like to feel better, stronger, and faster?
Especially, after centuries of learning that the strongest rule. At least it wouldn't do any harm. There were still 326 meals- people he had to take off his power bill, to ensure their arrival at Hurble-79.
It was a great sacrifice these volunteered passengers would have to make, so Len had the obligation to give their death purpose. As for those he would eat afterward? It was a great honor to die for the continued survival of the captain, right?
"Ankara, who's the most experienced medical personal on board?"
-S. Skinner is an expert in Advanced Medicine, with doctor titles in genetics, inner medicine, general medicine, physical augmentation, and experimental procedures.-
That sounded overwhelming. Maybe not that one. Len was clear of one thing: Even if he gained their knowledge and experience, he was not the original person. It wasn't important for tasks that only needed knowledge and experience.
But it was different for research. As a ghoul, he lacked the confidence to do research and grow knowledge. If the new planet came with some unknown disease, it would prove counterproductive to get rid of the best people for the job.
"Ankara, who is the second most experienced medical personal on board?" he would do with the second-best.
-Z. Killian is an expert in Advanced Medicine, with doctor titles in genetics, general medicine, and physical augmentation.-
"In what cryogenics section is Z. Killian?"
Len got on his way to study medicine. he never had any great ambitions as a human, and even less as a ghoul. Who would have thought he would become a doctor one day? His mom would be so proud. If she was already dead for over three centuries.
Z. Killina was a middle-aged man with a peculiarly thick and stupid-looking mustache. It reminded him of explicit adult flicks in the late 20th century. Len didn't like mustaches. In his opinion, a man should either be clean-shaven or wear a full beard.
The ghoul always regretted being unable to grow himself a face warmer, as undead didn't grow hair. He was cursed to be forever shaved. Even his hair length never changed. He had been completely burned once, when he recovered, the hair stopped growing at exactly the length it was when he was turned.
He was one of the few pet peeves he kept for the last hundreds of years. hee quickly initiated the awakening of Z. Killian and proceeded to take his life. It helped slightly to improve his mood. Under the practiced pressure, the skull cracked open like a hard-boiled egg and he removed the skullcap, exposing the fresh contents.
This was his 5th time doing it, so he was much more civilized about munching a brain. The previous four times had not prepared him for the kind of knowledge that kept rushing into his brain now. The captain already knew a lot, but it was nothing compared to this.
The ghoul's expression twisted in pain as a severe headache overcame him. He put the Z. Killian-leftovers to the side and laid on the floor. He tried to focus on the knowledge chaotically rushing into his brain and did his best to sort everything, despite the pain.
-Anomalies in sector S-23 detected, Captain.-
"S-Shut off thee section for now. I don't have time..." Len moaned as he did his best digesting the knowledge.
Fortunately for Len and a little sad for Z. Killian, the man had a very plain personal life. There were women, but he never showed great interest as the research, his job, was his life. It explained the terrible flood of information.
Years of university study and research all the way to secret experiments for the military, Len got it all in his head.
He slowly got back to his feet when the headache grew weaker.
"Ankara, what about that anomaly?"
- Report. Unknown life form detected in sector S-23. Current Status: unknown.-
"A life form?" the ghoul thought to himself.
"Ankara, why is the status unknown?"
-Life from has entered air vents and left the range of the sensors.-
Len remembered that the ship had no sensor surveillance on most air vents and maintenance shafts. No company would spend this much money on sensors that would only come into play in some kind of science fiction scenario.
The ghoul was unsure where that notion came from since he had little knowledge about the behind-the-scenes of space corporations. it had to be a mix from the people he ate. The pain was now mostly gone.
He felt good enough to check on this foreign life form.