A woman stood on the bridge, staring out amongst the vast expanse of space. She had watched that other ship roll on in, no doubt here because of that damn distress signal that Harvey had sent out. Oh well, more bodies for the Marker to purify. She couldn't wait to see their faces once they realized that they were ascending to a higher plane of existence. She really did all of this for the hearts and the minds of the public. She, and about a dozen others, had to be left alive so the Marker's glory could be spread across the heretics in the universe. The proof that the messengers of the Marker walked right passed them was proof of that. They knew that these few were true believers. One day, when all of humanity had been purified, she'd be able to ascend, but until then, she was merely the right hand of their god.

The Marker had always let everyone ascend, but this time it needed warriors of a different caliber. It was, after all, the very last of its kind. Luckily, there were those who were ready to serve and spread the good word of ascension. She looked at her most trusted advisor and secret lover, John Hillbeck. He'd been a captain in the military before all of this, but now he was a witness to the glorious purification of humanity and its ungrateful pricks. In truth, she felt jealous of the others that got to ascend, but someone had to stay behind and direct this ship towards Earth. It was difficult flying a ship of this magnitude with such few survivors. The Marker had picked its warriors very specifically.

"It's wonderful, isn't it, John?" She asked her partner, wanting to lean against him. Their new job did not permit contact a relationship might entail, so she did not lean against him, but merely stared at the new ship. So, they waited until the day of purification. They would be entangled in each other's grasp, the ascension making them whole. Oh, she just could not wait.

John nodded, a smile of excitement on his face, "More pilgrims to walk the walk the path of ascension. It is wonderful, Christi, it truly is."

Christi frowned when she remembered the hitchiker they had picked up, "But what about the unholy one, dear? He poses a threat to us all, but most of all, to our god, out savior..."

John glared at the glass, his fists balling up, "We've sent two of our most trusted warriors to dispatch Clarke while he is still sleeping in that damn tank. His... immunity will no longer be tolerated. He has been given too many chances. He has blown them all. He not be purified, the Marker wants him ripped apart, barely recognizable. I agree with this course of action. He isn't worthy..."

Christi asked, "What did you do with his companion?"

John let himself have a smile of self satisfaction, "He had made a mistake once, but we let him be purified. He is whole, just as he was always meant to be. If somehow Clarke somehow escapes his prison before he is dispatched, his companion will deal with him. The Marker has endowed him with a special purification."

Christi stared at him with admiration, her knees feeling weak. She had always been easily susceptible to his influence. The Marker spoke to him in a way she could never dream of. Sometimes she felt jealous, but she respected the holy one's decision. She looked back at the strange ship, knowing that this wasn't like any other human craft. It was different... alien in some regards.

Christi walked away from the glass and went to the admiral's chair, sitting in it. She had always wondered why a man of such a high position would need such a comfortable chair. Of course, his job must have been very stressful. But, he had been dealt with. That bastard had planned on ejecting the Marker back onto the planet. He would have gotten away with it, had the Marker not stopped him.

She said to two of her guards, "Bring in the Admiral's daughter. I want to show her something."

The guard nodded, his face hidden behind his helmet. He walked across the bridge, eventually entering an adjacent room. He threw a table to the side, a little too lazy to walk around it. He then grabbed a prisoner's hair, a woman to be exact. He unlocked her bindings and dragged her while she screamed and flailed around, trying to escape his iron-hard grip. But, it proved to be a futile effort. Whatever they had planned for her, it was sure to be carried out despite her objections.

The guard threw the woman to the ground in front of Christi. Christi got up and bent down to the woman's level, "Did you love your father, Chloey? I bet you did. And as an act of good faith, I brought him back to you."

Chloey looked up from her desperate tears, following to where Christi had pointed. There, her father was suspened by a meat hook that had been welded to a metal wall. His eyes had been peeled open, his pupils almost invisible, the whites dominating most of them. A flying creature landed on top of her father, sticking something in his head, blood splattering across the wall. Within less than a minute, her once loving father had transformed into some kind of monster. Bone blade things formed on the back, flailing around as if they were looking for a target.

Christi said with no emotion whatsoever, "Let her and her father have some quality bonding time."

The guard made his helmet fold back into his armor, his grin almost suggesting that all of this had sexually aroused him. He walked up to the necromorph that used to be Admiral Wu, using a plasma cutter to melt through the meat hook. The necromorph became free, but did not move to attack any of them. It simply watched its daughter, waiting for the moment that he could help her ascend. The guard went over to Chloey, grabbing her by the hair again and dragged her into the same room she had been in. He threw her against the wall and walked out.

As if on cue, the necromorph ran into the room after his daughter, screaming in a murderous rage. The door closed behind the necromorph, leaving the two in there alone. It eyed the terrified woman with hate and malice.

"Please, daddy... don't do thi-... NOOOO!" She was interrupted as her father dove at her, slicing through her arm like butter. The blood covered them both like some kind of sick bath. Her screams of terror, betrayal, and pain only furthered the necromorph's hate for her. It stuck its bone blade through her chest and repeatedly slammed her into the ground, still screaming as loud as it possibly could. She now lay still, her body a mangled mess. Organs and guts lay strewn across the floor, her face fixated in absolute horror. The one who had given her life had now taken it away from her. The necromorph let out one last scream before running out of the room, heading down the corridor, looking for more people to ascend.

Christi watched this all from a video camera, smiling to herself. She watched as the Admiral's daughter was made whole, her necromorph form unleashed, "She now knows what it means to be purified... ascension is at hand."

Author's Note

I said I wouldn't bring back Isaac, but I had this idea in my head. Something I'd been thinking about for some time now. We don't know for sure if he'll live to wake up or not. I will not say anything that will give away the storyline, though.

I hope you enjoyed this!