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From Deathless to Dee-Ceased
#1
[Image: IxpNIET.gif]
[OLD WAR RECORDS]
THEME: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ztsm0mz-E6I
QUOTE: Death will forget you, nestling. If you must be clever, be clever. Be brave. Sleep with thy fists closed tight and shoot straight.

[SCANNED MILITARY DOCUMENTS - HEAD OF SECURITY OR RESEARCH DIRECTOR ACCESS REQUIRED]
TITLE: D
BRANCH: Deathless
SPECIES: Deathworlder
SEX: Rattles and screams reported to be feminine in nature.
OCCUPATION: Hive Soldier
MENTAL STATUS: Extremely Volatile
STATUS: Finally Dormant, or "Returned" as they call it.
HEIGHT: Big god damn skeleton-monster-thing.
WEIGHT: Heavy god damn skeleton-monster-thing.

CHARACTERIZATION: Early video records are virtually non-existent thanks to the power-outages from the explosion on Lunar Colony 37. We're going off the word of children here, people. The only survivors of nearly 200 residents. All bodies were gone from the colony as per usual with these attacks. Why this monster didn't kill these kids has the egg-heads in a daze. It goes completely against this species M.O. On top of that the Life-support systems and structural integrity was maintained in the section the survivors were staying in. The oldest swore up and down this beast ignored them for the most part during its "harvest" but that he also witnessed it interacting with the youngest child on several occasions.
[Update] It happened again on Mars Colony 03. This time all the kids were spared. Well, the ones that didn't attack it. Some security footage also survived. Quite gruesome but the researchers are having a field day on what little data they can extract from its interactions with the kids.
[Update 2] Another Mars colony hit, this time by two of them. "D", which we now know it as, actually killed its comrade when it began harvesting some 2nd graders. The security footage had surviving audio this time. Learned the damned things can speak. "She" as ladies are calling it, spooky soft voice and all, took what was left of its comrade and left the station. Only half the colonists were killed this time. Brass is thinking of setting up a trap so we can study one of the big ones intact.
[Update 3] It... didn't work. At all. She ate both of them before they could lure her to the point. Gotta' bribe the parents to keep quiet. Once the boy approached her... it's like she smelled the lies on them. Christ, she screamed at us with both of their voices at the same time. These things need to die. Research has established some communication with these Deathworlders. They seem to have evolved technologically at a rapid pace using tech they've stolen from us and we've had increased reports of the hive soldiers showing restraint when raiding colonies. Regardless, higher-ups are already looking into the nuclear option.

[AUDIO AND VIDEO FROM RETRIEVAL DRONE - HEAD OF SECURITY ACCESS REQUIRED]
The drone putters across a flat, grey desert devoid of life. Its Geiger-counter clicks as it trudges on. Its sensors flash indicating movement near by and then sound. The drone begins recording audio and turns to putter its way towards what can only be described as many unified voices screaming in agony. It comes across a detached skeletal arm thrashing violently as it digs out the fractured remains of a skull. The janky little drone bobbles its way towards the head before extending a halo-shaped device that emits an electric green glow, zapping the skull and returning the desert to silence. Later it detects motion again. The last video recording showing humanoid skeletons in radiation suits bending down to pick it up.

[AUDIO AND VIDEO LOG - HEAD OF SECURITY ACCESS REQUIRED]
Audio and visual feed flicker on to show two skeletal figures in research-gear standing in a room with various machinery.
Unknown 1: -make sure the records stay together, that's why we... ah, it's on.
Shrieking in background.
Unknown 2: Yeah, yeah.
Unknown 1: Don't be like that.
Unknown 2: I just- why are all the old soldiers..?
Unknown 1: Insane?
Unknown 2: Yeah.
Camera turns to show a shrieking malformed humanoid skeleton in a sealed room attempting to break the observation window before turning back.
Unknown 1: Spent too much time out there eating raw data the heads are guessing. Couldn't absorb it safely. Great for the Collective when they offloaded it but..
Unknown 2: Raw human data bad. Made them nuts. I get it. Think Returning them will fix 'em?
Unknown 1: That's the hypothesis. We won't know for a decade or two.
Sound of glass breaking.
Unknown 1: Oh, come on! We just got that replaced- hit the switch, we're done with this one!
Feed cut. Device was disconnected.

[AUDIO AND VIDEO LOG - HEAD OF SECURITY ACCESS REQUIRED]
A skeleton wearing a medical gown covering its frame sits in a tiny room at a desk. Across it a figure wearing black robes adorned with a golden skull covering his face is doing paperwork.
Father Dread, still writing: Your mother unit will be here shortly, Dee.
Dee, seemingly not paying attention, detaches one of her boney fingers.
Father Dread, looking up: These new frames are very delicate. As you've been told there will be an adjustment phase. You'll be given a few implants to help. A lot has changed since you Returned.
Dee, re-attaching the finger and looking up: I am incomplete.
Father Dread: As I said, there will be an adjustment ph-
A door behind Dee opens and in walks a figure in a black robe adorned with a red skull mask.
Father Dread: Ah, finally. Dee, this will be your mother.
Dee, looking to the Father: Family units. Why?
Mother Bes: Much has changed. We adapt. Your surname will be Ceased.
Father Dread scribbles in a box on the form, then holds the paper up towards Mother Bes. She takes it and signs.
Mother Bes, looking to Dee: We've had you transferred from Soldiers of Mara to Healers of Mara.
Dee stares forward, unmoving. Mother Bes sets the paper down and aids Dee in standing.
Mother Bes: Come, there is much to do.
Recording device has been paused.


[Image: ujPETXw.gif]
[NANOTRASEN RECORDS]
THEME: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zy7b_CI4ylc
QUOTE: If you wish to receive medical attention in the future you will cease your homicidal flailing immediately.

[EMPLOYEE INFORMATION]
NAME: Dee - Ceased
SEX: Female
OCCUPATION: Nurse Practitioner
BRANCH: Medical Department
EMPLOYMENT TYPE: Contractor
RESIDENCE: Omsk, Deathworld
MARITAL STATUS: Married
ECONOMIC STATUS: Poor
NANOTRASEN LOYALTY INDEX: 0%
MENTAL STATUS: Unstable
RELIGION SECT: Healers of Mara

[PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES]
CURRENT ITERATION: 29 y/o
SPECIES: DeathWorld "Skeleton"
STATUS: Active
HEIGHT: Varies depending on host-skeleton
WEIGHT: 50lbs + gear

[SUPPLEMENTARY INFORMATION]
FEARS: Ocean, lack of control.
DISLIKES: Humanity, Unpaid Overtime
FAV. DRINK: Milk, Straight Vodka
FAV. ANIMAL: Clown Spider
FAV. PLACE TO RELAX: Medbay Morgue

[PUBLIC MEDICAL RECORDS]
Contractor refused to fill out next-of-kin form. She requests that in case of death her remains be sent to Deathworld.

[CLASSIFIED MEDICAL RECORDS - CAPTAIN, HEAD OF SECURITY, RESEARCH DIRECTOR OR MEDICAL DIRECTOR ACCESS REQUIRED]
Contractor will at times present as suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder. These personalities are in fact real, living entities from Deathworld and are being hosted for training and diplomatic purposes.

[PUBLIC SECURITY RECORDS]
CAUTION. Contractor hails from DEATHWORLD. Historical records indicate skeletons of this society may not be mutant-race skeletons. These bone-heads are predisposed to criminal behavior. Half of their economy runs on it! Who hired her??

[CLASSIFIED SECURITY RECORDS - HEAD OF SECURITY ACCESS REQUIRED]
See attached files relating to war against Deathworld.
Reminder: no peace treaty has been signed with Deathworld. We have several active sanctions against the planet for ongoing issues.

Contractor is married (Rick. R. Mortis, 36) with two children (Cal C. Iam, 15, Luna Te Bone, 6).

Husband is a known smuggler and terrorist to NanoTrasen. Records confirm he is a regular supplier of contraband to the Syndicate and several other terrorist agencies. Dee has been caught smuggling human bio-matter to Central several times now.

See attached audio and video logs for highlighted behavioral concerns.

[AUDIO AND VISUAL LOG - INTERVIEW ATTEMPT, LOCATION OMSK, DEATHWORLD - HEAD OF SECUIRTY ACCESS REQUIRED]
The camera flicks on to show the inside of a izba-styled hut. Mumbling can be heard as the camera shakes and points in random directions showing a dirt floor, torn pattern blankets on the walls, and finally two opposing log couches by a window with a low table holding a Samovar and two tea cups. A thin skeletal figure, draped in dark colourful scarves and robes, sits at the couch nearest the window. She picks up a tea cup and sips. A second figure, soon shown to be a human male in a bio-suit walks in front of the camera and sits on the opposite couch.
Interviewer: It's setup now, we can began!
Dee: You're wearing one of the cheap suits.
Interviewer: Ah, yes. They are offered everywhere and budget cuts, you know? Anyways. Please state your name and current occupation for the camera.
Dee: Dee-Ceased, Nurse Practitioner at the Omsk Community Health Centre.
Interviewer: And your previous title and occupation? For the records you see.
Dee: D of the Deathless Collective. Soldier and Harvester.
Interviewer: Right, right. Good! I'm at the right house. Bit hard to navigate here, you know?
An electronic device next to the window clicks softly before going quiet.
Dee: You should have gotten the good suit. We told you, get the good ones only. Never the cheap.
Interviewer, pausing and clearing his throat: It's fine. My assistant said it was adequate for the weather.
Dee: It is not.
Interviewer, shifting uncomfortably: Right, uh, moving on. Why do you think NT is offering you and your people this employment opportunity?
Dee: Derelict war records to start. Second, NT is desperate for workers.
Interviewer pauses and writes: And why do you personally want to work for us?
The window device ticks hurriedly then reduces to a steady tick.
Dee: Our worlds currency is useless off planet. Credits are neutral and therefore valuable.
Interviewer, glancing at the window: I see, I see.. uhm, sorry, what is that sound? Some sort of wind chime?
Dee, very stern: Storm detector.
Interviewer, chuckling: Acid rain coming?
Dee: You're about to die. You should have followed our safety instructions.
Interviewer: Th-that isn't funny. If this is how your kind jokes-
Dee: When is your pick-up?
Interviewer: What, why-
The wall device clicks with a steady, violent threat as lightening dances in the clouds.
Dee, aggressively: When?
Interviewer: T-two days. I have some business at the embassy after this.
Dee, standing and gently setting the tea-cup on the table: I'll have your employers notified to pick-up your remains sooner. If they are unable, we will fix you our way.
Interviewer, standing abruptly. He creates distance between himself and Dee: You're crazy lady, everything is fine-
A storm shutter in the adjacent kitchen fails and the wind forces the window open, cracking the glass.
Interviewer: It's fine- it's just a small storm, you aren't supposed to have any blowouts in this area for weeks.
Dee, unmoving, fixated on the interviewer. The sky light darkens and blankets the room with a blue hue.
Interviewer, backing up from her stumbles and sinks to the floor, vomits blood onto the clear visor of the bio helmet: WhHhhAaatTtt...
Dee: You damaged your suit just now. It will be more painful.
Interviewer, curling on the dirt floor in pain: HhhEeeEelLLlppPPpp... ppPllLleEeeAaasSssEee...
Dee, distorted as the camera feed begins to malfunction from the radiation: It is too late, [INCOHERENT] has claimed you. We will [INCOHERENT] your soul [INCOHERENT]. The damage may be permanent.
Male voice from another room: HUN? DID THEY GET A [INCOHERENT]?
Dee: Yes.
Male voice: TIGHTWAD MORONS! YOU MIND NICKING SOME PARTS?
Dee walks off camera. The recording device fails completely after a few minutes.

[A.I. AUDIO AND VISUAL LOG - INTERVIEW - HEAD OF SECURITY ACCESS REQUIRED]
A blond human sits in a stuffy office with no windows. Across from him sits a thin figure cloaked in black. Attached to the robes facial plate is a red jaw-less skull.
Dee: Has your mental state stabilized?
The interviewers expression hardens. He continues typing on his computer, ignoring her completely. They sit in silence until the door opens and a second human wearing red armour and sunglasses steps in closing the door behind him.
Interviewer: You're late.
Officer: Crime doesn't run on a schedule. Pipe down bean counter.
Interviewers face scrunches up in disdain while the officer shoots him a toothy grin. He hands the officer paperwork, which he signs and then passes to Dee who also signs it.
Officer: So uh, Dee or whatever. I'll be orientating you and helping you acclimatize to working with humans here at central. Making sure you don't eat the crew and such. You'll job shadow some doctors later on. Till then you're with me and I'mma teach you to play nice, keep your, uh, skull clean and again not eat people. Don't eat people, ok?
Dee: My contract does not involve harvesting.
Interviewer shifts nervously.
Officer: Yeah, uh, we'll work on your conversation skills. Going to make you watch a lot of lame movies. No fun ones, brass axed all my suggestions.
Dee stares forward, unmoving, at the officer.
Officer, sighing and leaning back: Man this is going to be a pain in the ass. I know I peed in the HoS's coffee, but still. Spook'em duty, god damn.
Officer, sitting up straight sharply: Hey, you ever used your rib cage to smuggle stuff?
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