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Paul's lips quivered. His mind was a brewing hurricane as recent events spun out of control with memories of better times. It all felt surreal. The violence. The suspicion. The events that led to one of his teammates being cruelly executed without a proper trial troubled him. Paul knew that it was all for the good of the others, he understood the situation and found a way to accept what had been done, but not without his relentless conscience reminding him how wrong it was. Sentences of death, a life for a life, was by no means a new concept, but Paul felt that humanity should be able to resolve issues without the need for it. Why couldn't we have locked White up somewhere until the mission was complete? he pondered uselessly. Take him home? Give him a fair trial back on Earth?

He passed Black in the hallway, but there were no greetings this time. Not even a nod of companionship. A sense of hostility and wariness pervaded the entire ship. Everyone was on edge. Paul felt particularly appalled. He could no longer focus on completing his tasks. Were there more murderers? Was he next? Would they make it? There were too many questions and too few answers. The last question reminded him of what Luke had said earlier. A mixture of rage for the accusation during the meeting and inquisitiveness for his crewmate's foresight added to his confusion. The thoughts made his head spin like a haystack in a tornado.

As he turned the corner into the cockpit of the ship, he cast a furtive glance at the astronaut he was taking the place of, catching a glimpse of his crewmate before he disappeared out of sight. That was going to be how the rest of the mission progressed. Suspicious glances, no to minimal communication. Everyone shared the same secret, and the same guilt. Turning back, he took in the details of the room he had entered when he first came aboard The Musk.

The navigation room was anything like the rest of The Musk. In front of him were three piloting stations each fitted with a large, cushioned chair like the one in the Weapons room. In front of them were curved desks equipped with an arrangement of screens, buttons, and switches. Being the head of the ship, it had the most magnificent view of space. Paul marveled. The majestic sight lifted his sour mood slightly despite the many times he had seen the dark expanse. As they cruised through the void, Paul was able to name several stars and galaxies the ship seemed to slowly pass. He took a moment to admire the vast universe before him.

A blinking light caught his attention and brought him back to the present.

It was a warning signal on one of the panels controlling the orientation of the ship. Paul stared at it for a second before realizing that he needed to act. "If The Musk was even one degree off course they will miss their landing destination by thousands of miles. In the worst case they could pass whole planet completely and never know!" he remembered; his acute physics knowledge being tapped on. If they missed their destination, they could be floating blindly through space for days; months; years before the ship simply collided with something or became a massive piece of space junk.

Paul settled himself in the pilot seat and accessed the screen, gripping the u-shaped steering throttle. On the blue-lit display were white lines that seemed to make up a crosshair for the correct ship's direction. Another crosshair represented the current direction The Musk was oriented towards. The ship was pointed far off to the left of the required angle. Paul reasoned that this may have been caused by the recoil of the cannons he had fired earlier. Any slight altercation in space could cause massive consequences and ultimately the failure of the mission. Feeling a slight sense of guilt, he recalled the training he had been given in preparation for the mission and gripped the throttle. This task was another with great responsibility, but Paul had gotten used to the pressure. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his hands and concentrated on the display, pushing all other thoughts away.

-*-

Still filled with despair Luke had rushed towards the hallway leading to Medbay after the meeting. He stood in front of Yusef's body, hiding it from view. To his satisfaction, none of the teammates had traveled in that direction. Luke knew it would only be a matter of time until they found out. Watching the team exit the cafeteria, he wondered whether White was really the alien. If so, how many others are there? He had no time to search for such answers. This operation had to be crushed. Taking one last look at the corpse, he resumed where he had left off and crawled into the ventilation system within the floor of The Musk. It was cold, dark, and damp. Luke shivered in his suit as he grated himself along the freezing metal sides of the venting tubes. Slivers of light from the emergency lamps entered through small slits exposing the hallways above, but it made no difference to him. The night vision lenses allowed him to navigate the darkest areas with ease but this time it was different. As he crawled his mind replayed the harrowing moment thousands of times without ceasing.

The pull. The flash. The body.

It distracted him from mapping his way to the security room where he had planned to escape. Momentarily lost, Luke paused at an intersection. Taking reference from his handheld holographic map, he figured out the direction he was facing and was about to continue towards the correct vent when he heard movement. It wasn't coming from above him. It seemed like it had originated somewhere within the vent. Like there was someone with him.

Luke froze in his position, listening intently to the continuing sound, deeply troubled. He couldn't believe it. There was someone else in the vents.

"Could it be the alien?" he questioned himself, suddenly feeling a burst of excitement mixed with alarm. His stomach curled at the thought of meeting the creature as it did when he first entered The Musk. A moment later the metallic crawling sound faded into the vents and Luke was left in silence.

Straining his ears, he heard nothing but the usual hum of the ship. Luke breathed a sigh of relief and returned his focus to the tiny man. Taking the correct turn, Luke wondered who it could have been in the vents with him as he crawled his way towards Security. "Maybe it was nothing?" he considered as he crawled through the metal tubing. "Just ship noises or echoes from above or below?"

As he reached an opening, he paused and cautiously lifted the vent covering a few inches. Peeking into the room past the ledge, he ensured it was clear then heaved himself up through a vent located in one of the corners. Almost immediately, as Luke rose to his feet, his surroundings brightened. The lights came back to life and his night vision adjusted.

"Seems like they finally got around to the lights," Luke joked to himself, wary that this room was just above Electrical. He would have to be extra cautious. Whichever of his teammates had just repaired the lights could still be in there. Luke took in the details of the Security room, noting the emerald green floor and the wooden table. Files, and sheets of paper lay strewn on top of the table as if they had been thrown or dumped there in a hurry. At the end of the room was the massive screen, its display split into segments. Each smaller section displayed the feed from the multiple cameras placed around the ship. Taking a few steps forward to get a better look, he could make out the figures of the other crew moving past the cameras here and there.

As he analyzed the live footage on the screen, he noticed an outline of a crewmate that remained in one small frame on the display. The astronaut stood completely still, seemingly staring at Luke through the camera. Luke's eyes narrowed as he focused on the crewmate who suddenly moved out of view. I wonder what that could mean, Luke thought. It was weird but could simply be a coincidence. He waited for a moment to see if the astronaut would return before shrugging it off.

Luke pulled out his tablet immediately registering the length of green on the taskbar. They were moving too fast. If he wasn't quick, The Musk would be at full power and reach Polus in a matter of seconds. Luke then remembered the disgusted looks and sly smirks on the faces of his colleagues as he was shouted down by his superior for undermining the mission.

With the death of Yusef weighing heavy on his mind, he found a refreshed sense of fury to direct at his teammates. Utilizing the malware program he had developed, Luke had already taken control of most of the main functions of the ship. With unprecedented knowledge about The Musk's security and internal infrastructure, it made hacking into it easier than taking candy from a baby. Luke ran his hand across the side of the tablet, picking at any dents or smudges as he thought of a way to put a quick end to the operation and wiping the smiles of those who doubted him clean off their faces.

With the tap of his finger, Luke had overridden the mechanisms powering the ship's oxygen supply. The scripted commands he wrote for the virus program would remotely seize control of the airlock by activating the excess ammonia response. He knew this would open the release valve. It was a vicious, brute force algorithm that Luke had learned in his days before joining the space exploration team. Every ounce of oxygen in the ship would soon be sucked into the vacuum of space and his mission would be accomplished. Luke didn't fear death. He looked it in the eye and held its gaze. The portable life support system he and his teammates carried on their backs were not connected to their oxygen tanks. There was no need in the ship. This ensured the success of his plan.

The instant he hit the button on his tablet he felt the air beginning to flush out his lungs. It was seconds later when the alarm warned of the crew's impending demise. The alarm system was the most protected on the ship. Virtually impenetrable even with extensive knowledge about The Musk's systems, the alarm was the only system Luke's malware hadn't been able to corrupt. He hoped that his teammates would not have time to react, knowing that the only way to close the valve and regulate airflow required access from the two control panels. A smile spread across his face simply thinking about the panic of his teammates as they rushed to close the valve only to find it was already too late. Sitting heavily on the chair behind him, Luke laid back and waited for it to pass. With this, his purpose would be fulfilled and could leave life, satisfied that he had achieved his objective and avenged his friend. Yusef.

Luke's grin faded; the grey solemn cloud of guilt and vengeance quickly returned.

Slumping in the chair, dear memories of his friend flooded his mind. His gloved hands held tightly onto the ends of the armrests. As the atmosphere reduced and the temperature dropped, he heard approaching footfalls over the alarm. Snapping back into reality, Luke sat up in the chair and turned to face the entrance of the room. As he did, a crewmate in an orange suit hurried past casting a single glance into the room and catching Luke's narrow gaze for a split second. Feeling the blood rush to his face, Luke reached for his pistol hoping the astronaut came back around. Luke cursed himself for his complacency. The footfalls disappeared around the corner. Leaning back into the chair, he stared at the security screen as the alarm assured him that the end was near.

-*-

Paul began to apply force as he moved the throttle which in turn moved the crosshair. It moved with much resistance as if the whole of the massive ship weighed up against his hand but made steady progress in response. The center of the crosshairs neared the correct orientation as it approached the exact angle The Musk needed to travel in.

Just as Paul was about to align the two centers his work was interrupted by the dreaded ear-piercing alarm. His heart dropped and his eyes widened when he understood the urgency of the situation.

There was a problem with the oxygen supply.

Abandoning the task, he jumped from the seat and charged towards the oxygen room. Much like the reactor meltdown, this was a critical failure since the teammates had no independent oxygen supply in their backpacks. Without proper air to breathe they would all die of asphyxiation if nothing was done to fix it. As Paul hurried into the hallway, he questioned why the ship was experiencing so many problems.

The probability of such occurrences in such a short amount of time seemed very low. Either the ship was releasing oxygen into space because of some dire circumstance like ammonia poisoning, or it was sabotage that must have disrupted the computer systems causing the release valve to open. It was a perfect way to bring down a mission. Just like causing a meltdown. There would be virtually no tracks left behind. Paul was beginning to connect the dots but reminded himself to focus on the situation at hand. He estimated that they had approximately thirty seconds to repair the leak.

Paul was in the room within several steps. Although O2 was one of the smallest areas of the ship it had enormous responsibility for preserving all life on board. Any system malfunctions were not to be taken lightly. As he entered, cold fresh air rushed into Paul, being blasted out of numerous ventilation fans that lined the front-facing wall. To his left, he took note of the three blocks of filtering and cooling machines separated by a bubbling, glaucous liquid. The same fluid was displayed in glass containers that were visible through the floor or on the second wall on his left. Looking in that direction Paul recognized the biochemical system that maintained their oxygen supply. In the middle of the greenish filtering liquid was a tall contraption. Within the round tinted glass was a natural, sustainable, and the most efficient design of all oxygen converting creations. A plant. It was nestled in artificial soil, its leaves wavering in the breeze of carbon dioxide being pumped into the enclosure for conversion. Photosynthesis was the process that had sustained human life for thousands of years and will continue to do so on The Musk. Below the plant was the control panel. Paul rushed towards it, his heart beating hard in his chest. He could feel the fast reduction in oxygen in the air as if it was being sucked out of his lungs like a drink through a straw. There were only moments left until all hope would be lost.

On the control panel was a small rectangular LED display with a metallic number pad. In order to gain access to the oxygen supply and reset the machines which close the valve's hatch he had to enter in a series of numbers that made up the password. Gaining his bearings and taking a deep breath from the shallowing air, Paul noticed a yellow sticky note on the side of the panel. Written on the note of paper was the passcode from the oxygen mechanism of the right side of the ship. From what Paul remembered, there needed to be coordination between two teammates on either side of the ship. He was going to be one of them. Were they waiting for him? Sweat trickled down his forehead as the seconds ticked down. With trembling hands, Paul forced himself to focus on the numbers on the note and began typing it into the pad. Time was of the essence.

With the password typed in, Paul pressed the green 'ENTER' button and waited for a response. There were several seconds left as the effects of the lack of oxygen became more evident. Paul could barely feel any more of the recirculated oxygen from the atmosphere in his suit. He attempted to gasp for oxygen but was found only shallow volumes. His vision began to blur, and the outer edges faded to black. It was becoming more like the lifeless unknown outside. The ship was slowly being consumed by the emptiness of space. Hopelessness began to grip him as he slumped against the enclosure. His energy sapped and his brain thirsted for air. The surroundings began to fade. Is this how I'm going to die?

Helpless, Paul closed his eyes and just wished for it to all end. His organs began to falter, the life slipping away from his body, despite his quickened breathing. Just as his eyes drifted closed, he heard a sound most gratifying to his ears. This was immediately followed by a flush of renewed hope into The Musk. Someone had entered the other passcode just in the nick of time and closed the release valve. A wave of fresh oxygen rushed throughout the ship. Paul's burning lungs eased back into their normal state as he inhaled deeply, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

The problem was fixed as quickly as it came. As Paul recovered from the near-death experience, he didn't waste time and headed out of the room holding himself up against the wall. He rushed down the hall and back to the control deck in order to fully correct the ship's orientation.

With his precision, it only took several seconds for the angle to be amended to the correct direction.

His tasks were dwindling as their mission neared its second phase: landing on Polus, the planet where they would set up a base. Paul could almost see it from the head of the ship. A twinkling far off in the distance. It gave him hope that this claustrophobic ride through space would be over soon.

Soon.