Necropolis 3 Read Free

must be the ones we heard going on and on as you came in. We couldn't respond back, comms are down, we can only receive. Anyone else with you?”
    “ Just two more, back with our ships. We need-”
    The woman held up her hand, cutting Greg off. “We all need things, but right now my needs trump yours. I don't get bad vibes from either of you, so I'm probably not going to kill you. How about you start by telling me your stories?”
    Greg took out his faceplate and turned off his oxygen, conserving it, and then spent ten minutes going over a rough version of the events that had befallen him over the past few weeks, covering Dark Ops, the Undead, and especially, the Augmented.
    “ Goddamn,” the woman said. “That's a hell of a story. And those Augmented...hell, like the zombies weren't bad enough. And now we've got a fucking sun going supernova to worry about on top of everything else.”
    “ So you believe us?” Greg asked.
    “ Yep. I've got a good nose for bullshit. I guess it's only fair I catch you up to speed on the situation here. First of all, my name is Melissa Lynch. I was, guess I still am, the administrator of this mining complex. Based on what you've told me, time is an issue, so I'll keep it short. A few weeks ago we picked up a few strange transmissions out of Dis, and then everything went dark. By the time we were done dithering around, trying to figure out what was wrong, realized it wasn't on our end, and decided to go check the whole thing out, a bunch of guys in suits of black armor showed up and locked the whole place down.
    “ They gathered up everyone, moved us over to the mining headquarters and converted into some kind of fucking death camp. Those who resisted were shot. They wouldn't tell us anything. We were locked into cages like animals. Sometimes they'd come and take us away, and we'd rarely come back. I don't know how long this went on, days. Then all of a sudden the power went out, all the cages were unlocked. I'd been talking with some of the others whenever I could about some kind of rebellion.”
    Here, Lynch hesitated. She frowned, her eyes briefly lost in the horror of cold memory. She spoke again.
    “The zombies were let out, too. I gathered everyone I could. We grabbed guns and shot our way out, rescuing other survivors...eventually, we got down to a mining tunnel and came here. As you can see, we set up shop. Been here just about a day now, trying to reinforce the area, come up with some kind of plan.”
    “ Well, we'd love to be of help, but we'd really like to go get our friends and grab that EMP bomb,” Greg said.
    “ Yes, that'd be a good idea. We'll need to reevaluate all this...” Lynch heaved a sigh. “Stafford! Where the hell are you?”
    A moment later, a man in a washed-out gray miner's uniform appeared. He grinned awkwardly at the group. “What's happening?”
    “Take Mister Bishop here outside and help him get his ships over into Hangar Two. Powell, I gathered from the story that you're a bit of a tech whiz” Lynch fixed Powell with her gaze. To his credit, he didn't flinch.
    He nodded. “Yes.”
    “Good, not enough of those around here. You're going to stay and help.”
    “ I was about to suggest the same thing. We need to make sure Erebus can't get into your systems. He could kill the power, the oxygen, or the gravity, if he did.”
    “ And you can safeguard us?”
    “ To a certain degree.”
    “ Well, get on it then. Stafford, hurry back.”
    The man nodded. “You got it.” He glanced at Greg. “Come on.”
    They turned and threaded their way back through the hectic chaos of the hangar headquarters. A few moments later they were back in the corridor, making for the airlock. Greg was relieved that this was going as well as it was.
    As they reached the airlock, he paused, and offered his hand to the man. “Greg Bishop.”
    Stafford shook it and offered him a simple smile. “Mike Stafford. I'm, uh, well, second in command here, I guess. I was a shift