I'd been with Nanotrasen for the better part of a year by the time it happened. Orbital Plasma Relay 45 wasn't a bad place to work if you ignored the assistants, the clown and the moronic janitors. Our neck of Jupiter's Orbit was hardly what you would call tumultuous, and in fact aside from someone beating the shit out of the clown it'd been pretty quiet the week we'd found the crate drifting through space, only to collide with the Research Outpost. On account for the fact the Research Team had access to some pretty volatile chemicals, not to mention the highly flammable, highly explosive Plasma itself, but it wasn't often that the Outpost got its own security detail. The Captain wasn't stupid, far from it, and he'd decided that hauling in an unidentified container could potentially lead to disaster.

“While we appreciate your presence, Officers, I'm afraid I don't see why it is necessary to have the Head of Security on board the outpost.” said Dr. Harken, the Research Director. He was an okay guy for an Egghead, but I knew he didn't think much of me, or the men under my command.

“RD, I can assure you it's just a precaution.” I smiled as he cringed; I knew he hated being called RD. “We don't know what's in that box. It could be an alien, it could be explosives, it could even be a sydnicate operative. We're not taking any chances here.”

Dr Harken gave me a cold look but I knew he couldn't deny the risk; the crate was unidentifiable, mostly due to the fact the only writing visible on it was in Russian, which none of us could read. I looked to the two security guards that had accompanied me, Biggs and Marston. They were good guys, if a little green. Biggs nodded to me almost imperceptibly, as if to reassure me (not that I needed it. I'd served on three other stations before Orbital Plasma Relay 45, and it took a lot to scare me these days.) I returned the nod, and left along with the others as the scientists scuttled off to ready their tools.

I found myself staring out the window, the distant orb of Europa visible, the station itself visible in the foreground as its lights twinkled, completely cut off save for the single shuttle that linked it with the Research Outpost. I felt the reassuring weight of my Energy gun in its holster, one of the few lethal weapons availiable on the station; only the captain and myself were cleared to carry weapons capable of doing anything more than incapacitating someone, and aside from an accidental weapon discharge from the captain we'd never had the need to fire them aboard Orbital Plasma Relay 45. My headset buzzed in my ear as Dr Harken asked me to join him as they broke through the crate, and I quickly turned to make my way there. We were using the lobby outside of the Research Director's office as a makeshift workshop, with the Research Director and myself stood behind the security checkpoint nearby, protected by little more than a sheet of Plexiglass and metal if it turned out the crate was explosive. I watched as Marston stood beside the crate, flanked by two members of the science team as they readied their power tools to cut through the locks and welded metal that bound the crate closed.

“It's a reinforced lock. We'll need to use the precision laser to break through it.” reported one of the scientists, his face lit up for a moment by his efforts to cut through the first padlock. “They've welded the hatch shut as well. Whoever wanted this closed wanted it to stay closed.”

“Carry on.” replied Dr Harken, and after five or ten minutes had elapsed the first lock was off. This carried on for some time, long enough that Biggs had excused himself to visit the restroom when the last of the locks had been cut through and the welded metal had been cut apart enough that, with enough brute strength, the hatch could be opened. Marston and one of the others grabbed the handle of the crate's hatch, bracing themselves against the heavy metal object as they began to heave and pull in unison, the metal groaning in protest before squealing apart, the hatch flinging itself open and sending the two men falling flat on their arses. From the crate erupted a thick cloud of smoke similar to the kind given off by dry ice, and before long our view of the room before us was completely obscured. I activated my headset in alarm.

“Marston! Report!”

“I'm fine, sir.” Marston replied. “Can't see shit, though. I think I see something in the crate, but I...”

Marston was cut short as a blood curdling scream erupted in the smoke filled room. I heard movement, and the pounding of feet against the floor tiles. There were sounds of a struggle, followed by the familiar crackle of a tazer being discharged.

“Shit!” I shouted, drawing my own weapon as I moved to open the airlock, another scream sounding as a jet of blood spattered itself against the glass. Marston shouted something, discharging his tazer again before being cut off, his voice descending into a wet gurgle. I opened the airlock, bursting into the room as I tried to locate someone, anyone still alive and mobile within the smoky room.

I almost tripped over the first body, the scientist with the laser lay on his back, his throat slashed open, his once pristine labcoat stained scarlet with his blood. The others in the room also appear to have been murdered brutally, bloody wounds dotting them bodies as they appear to have been dispatched quickly and mercilessly. I finally found Marston slumped against the airlock, his tazer still smoking as his head hung forwards, obscuring my view of his face. I kneeled beside him, noting the bloody stains on his vest as I gingerly reached out to move his head back. I recoiled in horror as I saw what had happened to him.

His face had been torn apart by some manner of edged weapon, his cheeks sliced apart to reveal in some cases the teeth below them. The lacerations continued up to his ears in a grotesque smile, the look of horror in his eyes forever immortalising his final moments, no doubt filled with agony. I stood slowly and turned to see a figure in the smoke. He stood incredibly still, more a statue than a man. I could not make out any features through the smoke, although I judged him to be a tall man, well built and with a pale face. We looked at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, When he spoke, I felt a cold, heavy dread in the pit of my stomach that I'd never felt before.

S m i l e : )