How Does One Escape the Prison With a Ball and Chain?

The science labs were on this deck, the deck below had the main sickbay. Going out and behind the travel pods he can go back and access the main corridor for the saucer section. One would question the design here, it was an odd place to put the corridor entry - none the less - there it was, and he can make it to the main science labs. However you slice it, this was weird.

Opening the door to the lab, he finds jars of bodily fluids in various states, it is clear almost immediately that these things are being tested and examined. If Flask goes through all of the labs he finds quite the horrifically disturbing scene, mostly fluids, nerve bundles, and even entire brains being studied. This was not usual for any Starfleet vessel even of the time, not sure if Flask would know that or not, but regardless it was true. The science labs were all being used on various bits of some kind of humanoid biological bits, mostly to do with the nervous system, the troubling part was that it was clear that a large number of subjects were required to produce this many samples.

Flask immediately heads to the labs , essentially rushing to them since he wanted to get himself out of the Arkon as soon as possible. Little did he know what was in store for him once he got into the labs himself, because as soon as he opens the doors to them, either though his feet acting as his hands or the door opening for him, he immediately takes a couple of steps back from what immediately processes to his brain. An immediate aura of pure death and decay looms on the front of his body, and while it wouldn’t send shivers down his spine, it certainly caught him off-guard. He knew of that feeling before, he was the cause of that feeling to his enemies back on his home planet. But to see it here, with his weakened state and without any potions to aid him in a fight, he didn’t know what to do. He was questioning if whatever was in there had anything living beyond the Malitae, whether it was even a good idea to go in there or not, and even whether this feeling was planned or not.

Regardless, Flask had to get a hold of himself, and he eventually did after sorting his thoughts out. He enters the room, and hesitantly goes to search whatever he can. Though, he nearly stops after the first table he came across with the jars of bodily fluids it had, picking up a very off scent at first, and upon closer inspection of said scent, he would be able to tell just what was going on. The feeling of pure death in the room didn’t help his case of finding out what was on the table, and it nearly shook him to the bone. This was the kind of thing he would do back in his 10 year war on his planet, and it was something he wanted far behind him in his past. Flask searched the rest of the room, able to sense the full picture of what was in the room, and a little bit of the room’s history. “Whatever was happening on here is gonna end next time there’s a party to this ship, this kind of shit shouldn’t be happening. But maybe… if there’s entire brains in here, perhaps I can find an experimented arm somewhere else… But should I really go into the other rooms? What if this is all a trap?” Flask thinks to himself, taking his steps carefully in the room instead of leaving to somewhere else he can go to. It was clear that the feeling of pure death was beginning to take its toll on the defenseless undead, it was as if the crazed murder he wanted to cause as one of his core traits was turning against him. “No, goddammit Flask, get a hold of yourself! Leave this room, there’s nothing you need or want to be a part of here” He continues in his mind, as he was able to metaphorically shake away the thoughts of doubt in himself. And with that, he quickly dashes out of that lab and begins to search around the other rooms in the lab for anything of use. Hurriedly kicking doors open and quickly getting a sense of what’s in there before moving on, unless there was something of interest there for him

The labs all contain some measure of the same thing - it was clear if Flask could identify what was there - that someone was experimenting on people both young and old. Gruesome experiments, the kinds you thought about hearing of from some fascist dictator doing to his own people, not Starfleet… Of course they were human, if Flask wanted to he could find some brains there, multiple brains, in one of the next labs there were… Other things, bisected organs in strange liquids, tendrils of something unknown growing out of them - something that was in and of itself alive where as the organ was dead.

Without examining the computers or other such things it was impossible to tell what the crew was trying to do, but it was clear that they were doing experiments on people, that was abundantly clear. As he moves through the labs he finds a variety of different things in them, organs, muscles, bones, most everything is surgically removed with precision before it was experimented on.

Several rooms, and all the same things being discovered. Flask had gone through enough rooms at this point that the general smell of them could be distinguished from everywhere else on the ship he’s been so far. After his long and fruitless search of just finding the same-old same-old, Flask sits down on the floor and crosses his legs, limping his upper body to where he could comfortably relax since he didn’t want to lean against any walls for fear of the Malitae.
So many things he had sensed that reminded him of his past, his time of being an upper echelon general of th Shadow Militia. Of when he was under the rule of his old Master and in the first 10 yeard of his undead life. Of when he was a psychotic killer and responsible for thousands of people’s blood on his hands. Flask wanted to never be reminded of that kind of past, as he had changed over the course of 4 years, one of which he was on his home planet before coming to Nimbus. He changed drastically, to where he was now the exact opposite of what he used to be.
Flask didn’t even know what to think, his thoughts were coming up blank. Though, this wasn’t from PTSD or anything like that, Flask just didn’t want to think on it too much, both his mind and his facial expression were blank, emotionless in a sense. The feeling of pure death looming over Flask had been with him for long enough as he searched through the place that now he was reminded too much of his past. He was adapted to feeling it, the essence of fear which he was ale to create himself so long ago.
”I probably made too much noise with all that searching, I panicked too much with… that feeling. Just gotta hope that there’s no one on the ship”
Flask thinks to himself as he takes a deep breath, and lifts himself back to his feet. Then, he just casually walks out of the labs, back to the shutte bay, and to the turbolift, using his armless body to activate it to lower him to where the sickbay was.

An interesting thing to note, he had not smelled that same sweet-petrol type smell in a while, it was entirely devoid from the science lab or the sickbay. Walking into the sickbay, however, was… Interesting.

Bodies on every biobed, thankfully they were dead, for what was done to them was a picture of horrific. Bodies were laying with literal chunks missing from them. Not just bitten off chunks but surgically removed with smooth square edges. One body has its skin removed, like an autopsy, only a few moments after looking at the fingers which were dug into the bed itself so hard and repeatedly that the nails were sheered off, face contorted in a scream. And that wasn’t the only one, many of the bodies looked like they had been alive when they had been cut up. There were heads that appeared to have been carefully severed, some missing brains others seemed to be entirely intact while still more were implanted with various tools and probes. All of these were on tables and other such places with sensors set up, it was clear that they were being studied.

As he entered the main surgical area, he could see a body tied down to the surgical bed, it was cut open, and had needles and other instruments stuck into the internal organs. Further, there were other dismembered body parts, such as arms, legs, hands, fingers, feet, toes, all of which in various states of dissection.

Something awful had happened here. Something grotesque. The air in the room was angry, as if there was a lingering living presence of the pain that had taken place in this room.

Flask made it to the sickbay, and immediately stood back from the awful stench of everything. He made sure to keep his lungs open so he can track of whenever the sweet odor changed, and when he opened the sickbay doors he nearly fell over from the stench, like someone had planted a bomb there as an attack for him as soon as he opened the doors, it was just that bad to him
Flask couldn’t help but cough loudly as he closes up his lungs, not letting anymore of the stench getting into his body, as well as any harmful matter it has within its atmosphere. He gets up, and tries not to let any shock get in his way of getting some form of arms. He knew that stench, the stench of decaying and rotting dead bodies after being cut up and experimented on. Again, from experience from his world.
Flask steps in, and without his sense of smell, he might as well be near blind levels of clueless of the contents of the room. And while he knew just what was going on in there, he couldn’t tell exactly where everything was, and he’d rather not get the details of it all.
With him not being able to tell where everything is because of smell, he ends up bumping into a couple of biobeds and one time even knocked over a body to the floor. The first time flask hitting a biobed, he knew he was for sure going to attract attention with the noise it made. He began to run and run to where he had guessed the nearest room that could help him, the surgery room, was, which resulted in the aformentioned continuous biobed hitting. After the third one he hit, and where the body fell off of the biobed, Flask stopped. He wasn’t going to get anywhere by running and bumping into more things, he would have to take it slow from there on out if he wanted to make it anywhere in the sickbay, period. So, it takes Flask nearly 15 whole minutes to get to the neaarest room he could get to, again the surgery room, but he wasn’t able to hit anything else, he was careful enough.
He made it to the surgery room, and opened the door with his feet, as he had to do with every other door up to now. And when he got in, he stood still to make sure there there was no Malitae in the room. If there was any, he’d hear it, and he would know to leave immediately.

There was no Malitae in the room at all. If there had been, it would have long since come at him when he’d knocked over all the bodies. it was a curious thing, there being nothing of the substance there in that room, it seemed to be everywhere else. What had happened here?

The room was kept sterile by the medical decontamination field over the surgical bay, decomposition was extremely low, the body was slowly rotting still though and it smelled bad - but not as bad as the previous room. This room, was better organized. Whatever poor soul was put here, they took their time on the person… Slowly cutting the body open, given the restraints it was very likely that they did so while it was alive. It was missing it’s left leg and right arm. However, in the room were other arms and legs of a variety of sizes, shapes, showing that many people had been dismembered to create this setup.

What were they doing here?

Flask sniffed the room in every corner, getting close-up to all that he could before confirming himself that there was no Malitae in the room. While there were a few times he just wanted to puke, he was able to hold it in with the fact that this room didn’t smell as bad as the others, and compared to them he thought of the surgery room as a newly-cleaned dorm on Nimbus. But besides that, Flask walked over to the door and kicked it shut, unable to lock it because of his lack of hands, so he just had to hope the Malitae was no squid.

Flask now had a full layout in his mind of where he was, since he had decided to sniff closely to nearly everything in the room, and from there he let all of the events until now sink into his mind, and what he can do from here. And when it was all said and done, Flask sighed, and began to talk to himself aloud to confirm in his mind that he was thinking exactly what he was thinking

“So, right now this whole situation from when I first got here to now, is boiling down to… well, more shit I’d rather not see… and no Malitae. And if there’s no Malitae…”

Flask then grows a smile, a smile of a bright idea coming to mind, the smile that would lead to a fantasy scientist to scream “Eureka!”

“Then nothing here is infected”

Flask finishes in a quietly satisfied manor, as he turns and walks over to where the whole arrange of limbs are, and jumps tup onto the table. He lightly kicks each and every one of arms on the table as if he were going down a walkway of touchable artifacts, all the while ignoring the legs, since that wasn’t what interested him. The proccess took a while and would test any average person of their patience, as Flask made sure to kick all fo the arms in their entire length, slowly at that. Once he was done, andd at the other end of the table from where he started, he stood still and went through his choices. Another minute or so passes before FLask turns around, and walks back through the table, kicking off two arms of near-same length, one left-handed and one right-handed, before hopping off of the table himself. His smile was still plastered on him like a painting, only it having grown this time.

“I’m gonna get out of here, one way or another”

He whispers to himself as he hastily and proudly walks over to the dissected body, leaning his head down to the tools next to the arrange of durgical instruments, and grabbing the sharpest blade there with his teeth, anything would have done. Then, walking back to the two arms on the floor, Flask lightly lifts up the right arm off of the ground with his foot, before throwing it in the air and having it land on the table of torn-off limbs once more. And suddenly, without a further second of hesitation, Flask turns his head before lunging the blade of the tool he got into his stub of an arm. Flask was silent at him stabbing himself, not feeling any pain at all as his black blood began to slowly flow out of his body. From there, it would be a slow and long process of flask cutting off the last bit of a stub of his arm, black blood going everywhere around Flask as his body was cut open, all but his bone, which he would leave sticking out.

The stub of his skin falls off, flopping down to the floor as a fleshy slice of soon-to-be rot. The whole process made Flask feel light-headed, he did lose a lot of blood after all, but he was able to keep himself awake as he lunges his exposed bone into the severed arm he kicked onto the table, shoving it against the wall and sending the other limbs off of the table. Flask finally opens his mouth and has he bloodied tool fall out of his mouth, as his smile from before reforms on his face, as he drags the arm he stabbed with his bone up against the wall, to where he was standing still, before freezing in place, and eletting his undead body claim its new limb.

“Master… John… everyone. I’ll be home soon”

The arm is indeed now easily attached to his body, it is dead but not rotted away, rather kept isolated and sterile, preserved for study by the crew of the Akron. However long it takes (as the player writing this isn’t sure), about at the end of the process of claiming the new appendages he begins to smell something, that same odor from before. The strange mix of sulfur, oil, and sugar as if a bit of candy was rotting. It wasn’t a palatable scent at all, somehow this thing sensed that this was an opportunity. Though he may yet have some time to put a plan into action, as would it not be logical that it was already here? Perhaps it could not enter sickbay or the labs for some reason. Perhaps not. Only time would tell.

Two hours. Two hours of complete silence, the only movement or sound within the surgery room would be at a 1 hour interval, where Flask would go for the next arm. Once he had the second arm on his body, one more hour of patience was used. The fingers of the second arm twitched, and a few seconds after Flask was able to twittle the fingers. He was back in action.

As he did some stretches to test how well his new arms were attached to his body, they were near perfect, almost the exact same length his old arms were, he couldn’t help but smile for such a lucky find. But his smile soon faded, as he didn’t have time to let his madness leak out, nor did he have the right to in his mind. He’s making everyone on Nimbus worry sick about him, a lot of them think he was dead, it was nothing to smile over when the thoughts of returning to everyone unexpectedly to show up and say “Hey guys I’m alive”. But, the other thing on his mind that cancelled out his smile was the smell returning, the bitterly sweet scent that he had thought he got away from. But, the scent didn’t mean anything to him, since where he last smelt it there was no Malitae, and so he would guess there was still no Malitae here and just a function of the ship, maybe an air filter.

He exited the sickbay with a blank slate of a face, an empty canvas that showed no emotion. The whole way, he tested his arms, see how flexible it was, from the shouders to the fingers, hoping the smell was gone by the timwe he got out, and would only return when he went back to go get into an escape pod.

Somewhere someone might wonder how good if a pilot Flask is, or perhaps he would be lucky enough to have the computer able to time the ejection of the escape pod for him - the engines were still configured to keep the ship out of phase and that had him relatively trapped but perhaps the fates would smile upon him and allow him to leave simply because he needed to get off that ship. It wasn’t hard to find an escape pod, but upon leaving sickbay he would smell it very strongly and begin to feel a nearby presence – not a person by any means but he was being observed under a watchful eye.

The faint and echoing footsteps through the halls of the Akron stopped, and Flask’s suspicions were beginning to rise again. On and off they were, but this time something was actually happening, a strong smell of sonething he only faintly had a sense of and an instinctive sense of someone being nearby was enough to get Flask’s guard up once more.

“Is anyone nearby?” Flask calls out, not exactly expecting a response if the assumed to be person present within Flask’s area managed to pull off him gaining a sneaking suspicion of the situation’s truth. He stands still, focusing on his senses and being able to hear his full distance of a quarter mile for any noises down to the smallest whisper. The wires through the wall, he could even hear their electricity shocking through the copper of the circut. But, Flask still had a possibility kept in his mind that no one was around, and was prepared to be disappointed if need be. But the strong scent of bittersweetness made him too superstitious, this time he knew something would happen.

There was the sound of plasma coursing through the EPS grid, the sound of the engines gently thrumming, the life support system keeping air circulating through the ship. Another noise, however, was present. Difficult to describe, it was movement, but unlike anything else he might have heard. It was the kind of movement that one would get by oozing over things, the Malitae’s texture wasn’t perfectly smooth so it didn’t sound like water, more like something with an almost grainy texture moving through the walls.

Flask wasn’t about to play a game of Red Light Green Light with the Malitae, he was frankly done with any games it was attempting to pull on him. He began to run, run onward to the lift to the escape shuttles, either running away from a snail’s-speed threat or just increasing its ferocity towards him. He was prey from the beginning, and now he had no choice but to act like an escaping rabbit from a hawk, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it.

He wanted to get out, and he wasn’t going to play anymore games to ensure it happened.

Running through the ship was rather useless from the perspective of actually getting off of it. Some calculations were required, a transporter, but Flask had the information in his head if he had paid attention, and when was it like Flask to not pay attention? Still, running was only going to do one useful thing – it was going to prove that he wasn’t being chased, and he wasn’t. He would be able to deduce, after a while, that the Malitae, if that is what it was, continued to follow as if it was watching him in some weird way; like a dirty voyeur waiting for someone to get naked even if it meant waiting all day.

Still, he wasn’t being followed or else it would have clearly had time to surround him by now. The other clear thing that Flask is able to note as he runs through the ship is the number of dead bodies that were attacked, bloody, torn apart, or otherwise killed in gruesome ways. Something very wrong had gone on in this ship, though nothing made it clear exactly what. Finally Flask finds himself at the escape shuttles, he can feel that death had taken place here as well, someone had been beaten down while trying to board one of the shuttles.

However, there were more than one, and still the feeling of the Malitae around him but keeping a distance.

Death around him was the same song and dance Flask had felt day after day for his first 10 years of life before he came to the Schatten system, so getting the feeling of dead bodies around him was nothing he even bothered to note. At the escape schuttels, he went into the one that he sensed as the most clean, and shut himself inside, locking himself away since while he was able to deduct that nothing was chasing him, he didn’t know anything about the Akron. He attempts to start the machinery up

Funny thing about escape shuttles… They were designed to, well, escape. So that anyone can get in and get way. As such when he enters and sits down the systems come to life and a voice comes on, since the computer sensed he had entered no access codes, “Emergency escape pod activated. To initiate escape sequence, please pull the restraints down and lock them into place.”

Flask sat still in his seat for a short while, letting the fact that he actually got out of the situation sink into his mind. A good few minutes fly by in what seems like a few seconds to him, as he then followed the message’s requirements. He lowered his restraints down and locked himself in place, making sure they were as tight as possible.
“Let’s hope uou get me out of here properly” Flask says to himself as he awaits his journey off of the Akron to start.

Flask’s escape shuttle activates… The explosive bolts blow and the shuttle engines fire up automatically, blasting the shuttle out of the Akron. Flask can see in the window in a very New Hope kind of way, the exterior of the Akron. Soon enough, one of the patrol fighters spots the ejecting pod and calls in to their Hawk craft, the runabout picks up the shuttle and is able to pull it back into normal space…

From there it was all down hill, the undead is brought back into the normal reality and taken back to Nimbus to be checked out.

Ok, this thread took way too long.