Oxygen

The med bay door swished open. Chief Medical Officer Hammond rushed in first, moving quickly but breathing shallowly. She raised the lights and powered up a station. Pillows inflated, machines whirred, holoscreens blinked on.

Captain Ostor ducked through the door, clutching his side. He collapsed onto the bed. Hammond started her scans.

Chief Engineer Tress and Security Chief Rayla followed close behind. Rayla shut the door and keyed in the security lock. Tress scanned the room and made some calculations.

“Tress, how long have we got?” The captain checked his wound. There was more blood than before.

“With all of us? I’d say there’s enough oxygen in this room for about twenty minutes.”

“And the crew?”

“They should still be in the hangar bay, they’ll have about five hours of air left.”

“So we have time to think. Rayla, what’s the status of the shape shifter?”

“It escaped into the service ducts. Remember?”

Ostor swayed and blinked a few times. Hammond’s sedation hypo hissed and the captain sunk into the mattress.

“We can save the ship later,” she said. “Right now I have to save the captain.”

She drew a blood sample and started dressing the wound. His breathing was slow and regular as clockwork.

“I’ll gather a security team, start sweeping the decks.” Rayla had already switched on her comm.

“Start with Engineering. First order of business should be getting the air recyclers back online.”

“Aye aye… Rayla to Freson–“

A holoscreen beeped.

“Guys.” Hammond didn’t look up, but her tone cut Tress and Rayla short. “This isn’t the captain’s blood.”

“Whose is it?”

Ostor stopped breathing. The heartrate monitor flatlined. And then the body started to move.