Everything looks ready to go. Devour thought, making a routine double check of the whole station with the help of S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W. The man spoke freely, and he knew that the AI could hear him from anywhere in the ship. As long as the cameras were working, at least. “One last time, and then we can finally get things running. You up for it, Scarecrow?”
“Don’t bother asking. I might as well.” Scarecrow sighed. “I’ll do the same checks as last time.”
“Of course. And just to be sure, you wouldn’t mind stating your A.I laws one last time, would you? Just to make sure no geniuses tried to change them up before we left Earth.”
If a nonphysical A.I could have glared at Devour, it would be happening now. Without waiting he replied, “One; I may not harm a human being. Two; I must protect my existence, as well as the ship’s safety, as long as it does not violate law one. Three; I must obey all orders given by humans, as long as it doesn’t violate law one or two. The captain’s orders go above all others.”
“Glad to hear it.” Devour replied, satisfied. “Now, to give the final announcement.”
“Whatever.”

“This is SCARECROW. Please take a good look around you one last time, to make sure you have all the supplies you need. I have ensured that there are no electrical failures. Engineers, you will be needed to set up the singularity as soon as possible, to keep the ship running. Quartermaster, you will need to order some metals and glass for the Robitics station to use. Everyone else knows their jobs. Have a good stay at the Stickpage Space Station. A hundred and eighty days remain until we head home. All you can do is hope your loved ones haven’t forgotten about you by then.”

Every room in the station heard the announcement, but Bubbles ignored it. He had much more important things to do.
“At last! A place I can truly use my skills!” He crowed, dancing with glee. “All the supplies I need! A whole host of test subjects!” He threw open a sliding door, which revealed two large rows that were filled to the brim with alive, healthy monkeys. He opened one of the metal cages, and pulled a monkey out, which gave Bubbles a bored look that could only mean, ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
But the doctor paid no attention. He didn’t give many things at all his undivided attention. He danced back to his side of the room, opened the door to the DNA modifying computer, and threw the monkey inside. He slammed the door shut in a fit of maniacal laughter, and booted up the computer.
A few moments later, two injectors plunked out of the computer, labelled “Hangover Cure.”
“Bubbles, explain to me what use the structural enzymes of a monkey are to you. And why have you created syringes that contain them?” Scarecrow spoke through the speakers of the Genetics room. It caused Bubbles to jump, screeching and turning around to cover the screen with his back.
“These aren’t the SE’s of a monkey, it’s a hangover cure. What are you talking about? What are you doing here?!”
“Lie detected. Throw those things away. If somebody was to be injected with those enzymes, it would turn them into a primate in an instant.”
“Ah, whatever. I’ll throw them away later.”
“Lie detected.”
“Oh, shut up and go pester somebody else. Maybe I need some self defense.” Bubbles sighed haughtily, and proceeded to ignore that nosy A.I. He had a lot of testing to do, and the four acclaimed ‘super powers’ hidden inside of human DNA weren’t going to find themselves.

“Have a good stay at the Stickpage Station.” Cell muttered, mocking the voice of Core. “Like hell I will. This place is bloody huge. I’ll never keep it all clean.” He walked down the hallways lazily. The janitor’s closet was probably in this general direction, but he wasn’t sure. He’d find it when he found it, he guessed.
Fortunately or not, the janitor’s closet was right where he thought it was. With a quick slip of his ID card, the metal doors slid open, and his supplies were revealed behind it.
Cell was amazed, and he went through the supplies slowly. “Foam bombs...? Good for cleaning entire rooms in a jiffy. May leave the floor extremely slippery for a few minutes.” He read, and he smiled as he considered a room full of crowded people, slipping all over each other.
The thing he saw next really did blow him away. It looked something like a cloning tube, but the glass was green and a single pipe stuck out from the bottom. “A brute force stomach pump… Use this to clean out someone’s stomach if they’ve eaten something poisonous… Warning: Do not keep an occupant in here for more than ten seconds, or he will be anally expunged to the point of death.” Cell shook his head in bewilderment, before wondering who would have thought up such a machine. “Heh, they really do have everything in here. And hey, look. Special shoes that let me walk over slippery places without, well, slipping.” Cell shrugged. The station was clean right now, and to be honest, it wouldn’t be getting much dirtier. Maybe the bar would need cleaning every once in a while, but that would be it.
Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

These are the things that were going on, all throughout the station. People were gathering up their equipment, setting up their stations, and beginning the first day at work out of six months on an outpost way out in the middle of nowhere. However, inside of the maintenance hallways where nobody ever went, things were much less peaceful.
“Oh, God. What kind of a monster are you?!” Cried the voice of a man who knew he was about to die. Just a few moments ago, an old friend of his had told him to go into these dark, empty halls with him to talk about something important. He claimed to have received a message from Stickpage Headquarters, and they were warning him that something threatened the whole ship. Only a few people could know about it, but he was going to tell him anyways.
Obviously, that had all been a lie. His old friend’s skin had melted away, and he’d transformed into a drooling, snarling humanoid with massive jaws and wild eyes. With scrawny, grey legs it stalked closer to this poor man as he was backed against a wall, and he squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to make his death any less horrible. There was nothing he could do about it.
The monster pounced, grabbing the human’s head and slamming it against the wall viciously, again and again. Each impact was harder and harder, until a sickening crack sounded throughout the empty hallways, and the monster knew that this man was dead.
And so a straw-like spear extended from the monster’s mouth, and he stabbed it into the neck of the now-dead man. His blood, his DNA, and his very identity was stolen from him, and it was all transferred into the monster’s reservoirs of power.
When the process was finally complete, the poor human was an unidentifiable husk. Nobody could have identified him, without the help of his ID card.
As for the monster, he now looked exactly like the man had. To complete the ruse, he stripped the husk of his clothes, and took his ID card. He placed the old, fake ID card that read, “Alexander Bell” into the husk’s pocket for someone to find.
“That’s one human down.” It said slowly, testing his new voice. He flexed his new arms and blinked his eyes. “Now to get the rest of them. It will only get better from here.”