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Vermillion Akvavit Oblige

You glance around for a weapon and spot a pry bar with a solid metal frame and soft rubberized handle, not exactly made for hitting things but heavy enough that it'll hurt if it does. You grip the weapon in your right hand and give it a few swings, frowning at your weak grip and the slight tremor in your arms. Not that you have any time to practice with it.

Your feet pad over to the pilot's chair slowly and you reach for the blanket, slowly pulling it off the figure slumped underneath it to avoid waking them. A young woman near your age, wearing a fitted compression suit that's slightly scuffed and stained with spots of brown across the chest and neck area. Her skin is pale but has a slightly coppery undertone, with dull grey veins around her neck, jawline and forehead visible underneath the skin.

It's the pilot, Marlene Darzi, although she looks a little worse for wear than you remember. Her hair, once a short black bob that didn't go past her neck, is a bit coarse and falls a bit past her shoulders.

"...ah. Marlene. It's..." You whisper.

Her eyes open suddenly, bloodshot whites surrounding a red iris and grey-looking pupil. Your instinct is to bring the prybar down and wound or kill the thing that's looking at you with predatory eyes, and you try. Perspective a bit as you feel something grab your chest and pin you to the wall with a thump that knocks the air out of your lungs.

You wheeze and try to speak, feeling your grip on the prybar loosen.

[ ] Surrender. She must be sick or unsettled from prolonged isolation and we accidentally alarmed her.
[ ] Feint weakness. Beat her with prybar when you feel an opportunity to strike.
[ ] Cry. You didn't sign up for this!
 
[x] Feint weakness. Beat her with prybar when you feel an opportunity to strike.

Flailing blindly always works in the movies!
 
Marlene's hands keep you pinned to the wall as she leans closer. You feel cool breath on your neck and something like a needle graze the injection port implanted near the junction of your jaw and neck, routing into the carotid. Then a faint smell of salt and copper, a little trick of something warm along your neck. You feel a faint chill as she draws the blood out through your ports.

She's not herself and you don't intend to be lunch, though. Her hold on you relaxes a little as she seems to be satisfied with a dozen seconds of lapping away, which you immediately capitalize by kneeing her in the stomach to push her off you and follow up with a strike across the temple with the prybar.

The sound of steel striking bone is awful.

She hits the ground with a yell and lies there face-down, still breathing heavily.

"...owww." She mewls, immediately moving to pick herself up. "I didn't even t-take that much!"

She peers back, dabbing at a bleeding cut from her temple. The blood runs down to her chin and seems to dry by the time it gets there.

The haze over her eyes seems to have faded, bloodshot sclera clear white again and iris a muddy brown instead of the dried-blood-color you saw moments before. The grey veins have sunken back in, becoming almost invisible. She seems... normal.

[ ] "Don't fuck with me like that! I thought you'd gone crazy!"
[ ] "Stay back! I'm not sure if I can trust you just yet!"
[ ] Hit her again, this is a trick.
 
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"Don't fuck with me like that! I thought you'd gone crazy!" You spit out, still shaking a bit.

Marlene pulls herself onto the chair and swivels it towards you, nursing the spot where you hit. "...kinda did. A bit. To be honest I had to actually drink your blood to realize this wasn't all just a hallucination."

"You what?"

"Drank your blood."

"...what." You can't quite believe what you've heard and slowly cross your arms.

"You want me to... explain?" The pilot crosses her arms, mimicking your stooped posture as well.

"Explain."

"So... I'm a vampire. I drink blood. I've been in withdrawal since the supply ran dry last week." Marlene taps her fingers together and twirls them in her choppy-looking hair while she waits for your answer. The crisp, form-fitting compression suit says 'space pilot' but the ragged, insecure mannerisms almost (almost) give off this vague air of innocence.

[ ] "Okay. Humoring you. Why did you run out of blood?"
[ ] "Vampire, huh. I was expecting being bitten to be... you know. Sexy or something."
[ ] "This is a hot crock of shit. You've gone mental from being in stasis too long."
 
[X] "This is a hot crock of shit. You've gone mental from being in stasis too long."

Surely we should pick the most reasonable response because we aren't in some kind of occult science fantasy quest. That's the ticket.
 
[X] "Okay. Humoring you. Why did you run out of blood?"

Because we did notice a complete lack of blood in the supplies. Vampire or no, she might know what's up with the inventory.
 
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"Okay." You nod, deciding to accept the premise and press further. It still smells like a crock of shit, but at this point you know better than reject her outright given the circumstances. "Humoring you. Why did you run out of blood?"

"Well. Do you want the long version? I'll tell you the long version. We overshot the transit and crashed on Mimas while you and the others were asleep."

"Mimas." You glance out to the sheet of ice and frown. "Mimas the ship? The ice cladding seems a bit uneven."

"Mimas, the hunk of ice and rock the Vermillion dragged out from the old system. The one the ship is named after."

"Right behind the Vermillion. Did you try calling for rescue?"

"A lot." Marlene suddenly looks very tired, twirling her fingers through her hair and running her fingertips over split ends. "We're in an old battlefield. There's a couple of old 3rd-generation Natarajas crashed ten kilometers out. Undergoing reactor decay and washing the whole area in Curtright fields."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, we're not going to get anything out. It took me about a month of tinkering to figure that out. Anyway, of... two months ago, we're low enough on power that we couldn't even if the interference cleared. For reference and I guess this is because I kept on forgetting to mention it up-front, but you've been in stasis for about 14 months." The pilot who seems to insist she's a vampire rubs her head and sniffs. "Sorry for messing up a routine flight. And biting your calf."

"Withdrawal, right?" You frown a bit and rub your head. The news you're 14 months out of sync hits a bit hard, but the rest of the situation's been enough of a shock. Even your exhalation comes out a bit shaky.

"Yeah."

[ ] "I guess it's fine. I'm alive, so that's that. What's our next move?"
[ ] "You didn't take me on a date before biting? Jeez. Anyway, we should get a move on."
[ ] "Okay, I believe some of that. I'm relieving you of duty and taking charge."
 
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