The distress signal reached the Express during what should have been a routine transit between star systems—a desperate transmission from a cargo hauler reporting Fragmentum corruption in their holds and requesting immediate assistance. Alex listened to the crackling audio from the communication center, hearing fear and desperation in the pilot's voice as they described watching their ship slowly transform into something hostile and alien.
"Fragmentum monsters," Dan Heng explained as the crew gathered for an emergency briefing. "Corruption that spreads through contact, transforming matter and energy into hostile entities. If we don't contain the outbreak quickly, that entire ship will become a threat to any vessel that encounters it."
Alex studied the tactical display showing the cargo hauler's position relative to their own. In the game, Fragmentum enemies had been challenging but manageable opponents, with clearly defined attack patterns and exploitable weaknesses. The reality of facing creatures that could corrupt everything they touched felt considerably more daunting.
"What's the plan?" Alex asked.
"Standard containment protocol," Himeko said, already moving toward the equipment lockers. "Board the vessel, locate the source of corruption, neutralize it before the spread becomes irreversible." She paused, looking back at Alex. "You'll be staying on the Express."
"What? Why?"
"Because this is your first exposure to active Fragmentum corruption," Dan Heng said, not unkindly. "The creatures can affect people as well as objects, and inexperienced fighters are more likely to become additional casualties than effective combatants."
Alex wanted to argue, to insist that they could help somehow, but the serious expressions on the crew's faces made it clear this wasn't a discussion. They were dealing with a genuine threat, and good intentions weren't sufficient qualifications for combat operations.
"I'll monitor the situation from here," Alex said instead. "Coordinate with the Express's systems if you need additional support."
March patted their shoulder sympathetically. "Don't worry—we've done this dozens of times. It's like a really violent cleaning operation."
Watching the crew prepare for boarding action was like seeing a different side of people Alex had come to think of as friends and mentors. March checked her bow with professional efficiency, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by focused concentration. Dan Heng moved through weapons and equipment checks with the fluid precision of someone who had performed these rituals countless times. Even Himeko seemed different—more commanding, with an air of authority that spoke to years of experience making life-or-death decisions.
"Express to cargo hauler Distant Thunder," Himeko spoke into the communication system. "We're approaching your position for emergency assistance. Prepare for boarding—we'll need access to your contaminated sections."
The response was barely intelligible through static and what sounded like inhuman roaring in the background. Whatever was happening aboard the cargo vessel, it was happening fast.
Alex watched from the observation deck as the Express maneuvered alongside the Distant Thunder, noting how the cargo ship's hull seemed to writhe and shift in ways that hurt to look at directly. Fragmentum corruption wasn't just changing the vessel's structure—it was making it into something that challenged the eye's ability to process visual information coherently.
The boarding tube extended between the two ships with mechanical precision, and Alex's last view of the crew was March giving them a cheerful wave before the airlock sealed behind her.
For the next hour, Alex could only wait and monitor communications as the crew worked their way through the corrupted vessel. The radio chatter was terse and professional, punctuated by sounds that Alex's imagination probably made worse than they actually were—the clash of weapons against something that shrieked in frequencies that scratched at the edges of hearing, the sizzle of energy discharges, the occasional curse or warning shouted over the din of combat.
"Express, this is March," came the crackling transmission. "We've located the primary corruption source—it's some kind of experimental energy core that must have malfunctioned during transport. Dan Heng's working on containment procedures."
"Status on crew survivors?" Himeko's voice.
"Three confirmed, taking shelter in the bridge section. Fragmentum spread hasn't reached them yet, but..." March's transmission cut off in a burst of static.
Alex gripped the edge of the communication console, fighting the urge to do something, anything, to help. They could see the Distant Thunder through the observation windows, its hull now more obviously wrong than when the crew had first boarded. Sections of the ship pulsed with unnatural light, and what might have been growths or protrusions extended from surfaces that should have been smooth metal.
"Express, we have a problem," Dan Heng's voice cut through the static. "The corruption source is more advanced than standard Fragmentum—it's showing signs of directed intelligence. Containment is going to be more difficult than anticipated."
"How much more difficult?" Himeko asked.
"It's actively defending itself. And it's learning from our attacks."
The communication channel filled with the sound of combat—energy weapons firing, something large hitting a bulkhead hard enough to make the ship's structure groan, March shouting tactical information in a voice strained with effort. Alex could see flashes of light through the cargo ship's viewports, brief glimpses of the battle taking place in its corrupted corridors.
Then, suddenly, silence.
"Express crew, please respond," Alex said into the communication system, their voice steadier than they felt.
Nothing.
Alex stared at the Distant Thunder, watching the unnatural lights flicker through its hull. The silence from the radio stretched on, punctuated only by the soft hum of the Express's systems and their own increasingly rapid heartbeat.
They were reaching for the emergency controls when Himeko's voice finally came through: "Express, this is the boarding team. Threat neutralized, survivors secured. Preparing to return."
The relief that flooded through Alex was so intense it left them lightheaded. When the airlock cycled open twenty minutes later, they were waiting to help with whatever the crew might need—medical attention, equipment repair, or just someone to listen if they wanted to talk about what they'd experienced.
The crew that returned looked tired but unharmed, though their equipment showed signs of recent combat. March's bow needed restringing, Dan Heng's clothes were torn in several places, and Himeko moved with the careful precision of someone whose adrenaline was still fading.
"Everyone okay?" Alex asked.
"Everyone's fine," Himeko assured them. "Though that was more challenging than usual. The corruption source was definitely artificial—someone had been experimenting with directed Fragmentum growth, probably for weapons development."
"Did you find out who?" Alex asked.
"Unfortunately, no. The experimental apparatus destroyed itself when we disrupted the containment field." Dan Heng set his spear in its storage rack with careful precision. "But the implications are troubling. If someone has learned to weaponize Fragmentum corruption..."
"That's a problem for another day," March said, slumping into one of the lounge chairs. "Right now, I just want a hot shower and something to eat that definitely isn't corrupted."
As the crew dispersed to clean up and recover, Alex remained in the observation deck, staring out at the space where the Distant Thunder had been. The cargo ship was continuing its journey, its crew safe and its corruption contained, but the encounter had left them with more questions than answers.
This was what the Express crew did—faced threats that could reshape reality itself, made split-second decisions that determined the fate of entire vessels and all the people aboard them. Alex had watched it happen from the safety of the observation deck, but they'd felt the weight of responsibility and the very real possibility that people they cared about might not return.
In the game, combat had been exciting, challenging, but ultimately safe. In reality, it was a reminder that the universe contained genuinely dangerous forces, and that choosing to stand against them required a kind of courage that Alex wasn't sure they possessed.
But as they watched the stars wheel past outside, they found themselves thinking not about the fear they'd felt, but about the competence and dedication the crew had displayed. March's tactical awareness, Dan Heng's problem-solving skills, Himeko's leadership under pressure—these weren't just character traits from a game. They were real qualities possessed by real people who had chosen to make the galaxy a safer place.
Alex wanted to be worthy of that choice. The question was whether they could develop the strength to stand alongside people who faced cosmic horrors as a matter of routine.
Only time would tell.