Darkness. Isolation. A haunting void that numbed his core.

Mercer's eyes fluttered open to a desolate room filled with metallic prison walls. He faced the barren ceiling, yet he could not make out a single shape as darkness dominated his vision. When he came to, his mind felt like that of a newborn's; an empty, clean slate. There was a moment of serenity in his ignorance. For a slight second, he was no one, and it was blissful.

When his consciousness finally resurfaced, Mercer's body shot up from the unkindly, cold floor. His heart was beating loudly, and cold sweat began to break out on his neck. He felt like he forgot something he wasn't supposed to.

With all his might, Mercer tried to get back up on his feet, but his legs trembled at the new found gravity. It came crashing down like a hail storm. After a few seconds of adjusting, he took a step forward, his legs still staggering.

A few meters down the abandoned, metal hallway, his eyes filled with horror at the sight of bodies swimming in a bloody pool. A massacre. That was the only appropriate word. A stream of tears fell from his eyes. His comrades. He remembered the Slaughter. He remembered the sounds of slashes, screams of agony, and glutinous consumptions.

In all the mess of severed body parts, he was drawn to a specific blue skinned and blonde haired, alluring figure. Her body laid lifeless on the unforgivingly cold floor. Mercer, as if he was seeing a wounded bird grasping onto the strings of life, ran to the bruised, bluish figure. He lifted her head by placing a gentle hand behind her neck. Her skin was cold. She was far too gone from the Gates of Life.

Samantha. That was her name. His comrade. His friend at the academy. They were side by side at Orientation. He took notice of her stance, tall and serious, like she had something to prove. He was right. Being the only female, Varlek recruit in the Intergalactic Federation Alliance of Foreign Powers, Samantha definitely had something to prove.

She worked harder than any of the other soldiers. When all the other recruits gathered and mocked her mercilessly, she rose above it all. She didn't care about the bruising on her vibrantly blue beautiful skin. She didn't care about the constant bullying during training. She didn't care about the fear in her subordinates' eyes. Some men are too weak to accept a strong woman.

More than an amazing Lieutenant General, she was just a wonderful person. She joined the Federation to protect her family and her planet. Verkla was once a beautiful kingdom of greenery with air as fresh as an apple that bathed in the Sun's spotlight. A simple but adoring planet. That was, until the mysterious attack. Varkla, in one evening, was decomposed of its vast nutrients, and all the Varleks were wounded by faceless predators. Varla was never the same again. It's people suffered for decades after the attack. Its once blooming land had to hide under the overcast of the Federation. In return, the Federation required recruits for its growing arms. The families of the volunteers received plentiful food to survive on. Samantha, like the other two thousand and sixty-five Varlek soldiers, volunteered to support their wives and children. Who could blame her? Anyone with a wife as beautiful and kind as Beatrice would sacrifice themselves.

Why? Why did this have to happen to Samantha? To the crew of J5-69? How? Did this even happen at all?

Mercer held Samantha tight, and he cried. He cried for his fellow crewmen. He cried for Samantha's wife and daughter. He cried and cried and cried.

In his state of pity, he didn't realize something creeping behind him. A tar-like monster with hollow eye sockets and twelve rows of sharp teeth opened its jaw beyond comprehensible reason and gulfed up Mercer's head. Blood oozed out the headless torso. Without a brain to support the body, it fell on to Samantha's own lifeless body. A commander, a lieutenant, and a crew were all slaughtered by a faceless predator and now floating through the vast emptiness of space on a metal graveyard.