Isaac had never seen a synthetic in person before.

He thought they might be fragile, prone to breaking if you accidentally knocked them over, but the android standing before him seemed as solid as a mountain. When it - he? - stepped forward to greet them, his movements had convincing weight and force.

"Walter," Gideon said, like he was addressing an old friend, "We need your help with a Thea-2 AI."

"I understand. Please allow me a moment to update my knowledge databases with Asteria."

"What's that?"

Walter shot Isaac a look. The directness of his eyes startled him more than he cared to admit. "Asteria is Vanguard One's central artificial intelligence. It's the mainframe from which my primary programming is derived."

Asteria was also the Greek goddess of the stars, Isaac thought, who escaped Zeus' advances by throwing herself into the Aegean Sea and becoming an island, and… He stopped when he realized he was only distracting himself. Talking to android was new. And very strange. It made him nervous.

When no more was said, Walter nodded, squared his shoulders, and his eyes went blank. "Commencing knowledge database updates."

Gideon, who'd been watching the exchange with a wry grin, nudged the librarian with an elbow. "Your first time not being the smartest person in the room?"

"Very funny." Isaac watched the android out of the corner of his eye. He'd heard of the Walter series, seen the marketing vids and everything. They spoke with a flat but concerned voice, like a medical doctor approaching you with difficult news. The Walters were no-bullshit and workmanlike, built without the complex emotional pathways of that creepy David 8 series. Isaac supposed that should have been comforting. Somehow it wasn't.

Walter frowned. "Asteria is not accepting my requests for connection. Only her virtual assistance systems are open access." The android stared at them for a moment. "Something is wrong."

Isaac spoke after exchanging a concerned look with Gideon. "Walter, do you know what the hell happened here? There's something on board the station. It isn't human."

"I was in storage until a moment ago."

Gideon: "I think that means no."

Isaac: "Can you access security footage, pings, audio logs, anything like that?"

"I can't do that. My access to Asteria's surveillance systems are blocked." His calculating eyes ping-ponged between the two men. "This must be very disappointing to hear. Please accept my apologies for the inconvenience."

Gideon: "We actually need your help with something, my friend."

Isaac: "My ship is having trouble with a Thea-2 AI. Can you fix one that's been unresponsive?"

The android blinked, thinking, collating. "I do detect an idling Thea-2 system on an illegally docked B-Class cargo freighter on landing strut four."

"The Tenjin. And it's not an illegal dock if no one was alive to receive us."

That caught Walter's attention. The manufactured neutrality of his expression flickered, if only for a moment. "To answer your original question, I am indeed compatible with Thea-series mainframes. Whether or not I can repair her may depend on the severity of her malfunction."

Gideon crossed his arms and nodded in Isaac's direction. "Well, it's up to you. Do we bring the big guy with us? Could be a risk. No offense."

"None taken," Walter said.

Isaac watched the android wait for their decision. It wasn't the slam-dunk-yes solution he was hoping for, and synthetic interaction was something he had to get a handle on, but this was probably the best chance they had. "We're not getting off this station unless we try. Walter, can you come with us back to The Tenjin?"

"As you wish, Colleague 1."

"Why does he get to be Colleague 1?" Gideon furrowed his brow.

"My system defaults to a colleague naming structure in the absence of formalized introductions. Please accept my apologies for the-"

"I'm Isaac. You can call the tall frowning one Gideon."

"I see. Pleased to meet you and your partner."

"Oh, he's not-" Isaac blanched at the suggestion. "He's just helping me out."

"That is what I meant by partner. Should I have used another term? My language authority files may require an update."

Gideon pinned the younger man with a teasing expression. "I don't know. Partner sounds pretty fair to me."

Isaac pointedly looked at the elevator they'd arrived in. "Oh, look, a way out of this conversation."

Mr. Midnight switched off the surveillance monitors. He'd seen just about enough. That bastard knight, sweeping in with his bullshit hero act, stealing his pretty young playmate right out from under him was bad enough. But now they've commandeered a goddamn Walter unit? He didn't even know the station kept one in storage. That should have been his synthetic to use and control. Not theirs. Why was everyone dead set on fucking up his day?

He decided it was time to step out of the shadows and become a player in his own game.

Mr. Midnight studied his reflection in the chrome mirror beside the surveillance console. Impeccable blond hair, straight and neatly combed. Bright blue eyes, clean shaven and good skin, thanks to a combination of genetics and the occasional trip to the dermatologist. Those trips were becoming more frequent now that he was in his mid-30s, but still, no one had ever confused him for ugly - or old. Bone structure and good breeding, that's what he had. Not to mention a fondness for the gym. He liked staying in shape, liked the impressed glances other men would give his body in the locker room. He knew his playmate would like his body, too. How could he not?

They'd meet soon enough. But that wouldn't happen unless Mr. Midnight willed it. That, truly, was the story of his life – he was the one who took action, got results, and reaped the rewards. Him. Not some jackass with a British accent and a sword. Sometimes, other people needed to be reminded of how lowly and powerless they were, especially the ones in his orbit.

Mr. Midnight left Vanguard One's central control room with a smile on his face, a skip in his step, and a loaded gun in his breast pocket.

Along the way back to the commuter cab, Isaac and Gideon did their best to fill Walter in on the journey so far. The android took in the information with detached professionalism. He had questions, but none that could really be answered. They were all in the dark together, a fact Isaac managed to find some semblance of comfort from.

When they returned to Tower 3's commuter station, with its abundance of empty Weyland Yutani shipment crates, Isaac remembered he still had a few questions of his own.

"Walter, do you know what Weyland Yutani was doing here?"

The android looked at the crates. "I have no recorded memories prior to Gideon activating me. However, Weyland Yutani is not an associated stakeholder or partner in this station's operations."

"You know anything about this station we don't?" Gideon asked as he activated the commuter cab. The three men stepped inside.

"Vanguard One is a four tower L-class retail and hoteling station. Built by Borgia Industries and recently sold to independent owners, identities classified."

Isaac felt something inside him tighten. "So there's a possibility that the Company bought this place in secret?"

"That is one of multiple possibilities," Walter said as he sat and politely folded his hands to his lap. "My intellectual pathways prevent me from speculation."

Gideon pulled a few controls and the cab lurched forward.

"Now leaving Tower 3, Mainframe Systems," the cool automated female voice said.

The men sat in silence as the cab rocked gently. Isaac only had a few moments of relative calm before he realized Walter was staring at him.

"You are not comfortable around me," he said.

"No," Isaac rubbed his arm, figuring there was no reason to lie. "But that's not your fault."

"It is impossible for me to harm a colleague. If anyone has the right to fear the wrath of a Walter unit, it is those who threaten their colleagues." He waited a beat, expression and tone unchanging. "That was a joke."

Isaac cracked a smile. He couldn't help it. Not that the joke was particularly funny, but there was something to be said for Walter's stilted, deadpan delivery. Across the cab, Gideon fought back an amused grin.

After several more moments the automated female voice - Asteria, Isaac figured - chimed in. "Now reapproaching Tower 2, Retail and Lodging."

They exited the cab and were halfway through the receiving platform's maze of supply crates when someone stepped into their path. A man in an expensive business suit, slicked back blonde hair, and a revolver in his hand.

"You've gone far enough."

Gideon stepped forward, blocking Isaac from the gun. "Who are you?"

The businessman clicked back the revolver's hammer. "Need I repeat myself?" His voice was strange, somehow both flat and sing-song.

"Gideon, stop," Isaac warned. The man's soulless gaze landed on him.

"You don't need to worry anymore, Isaac. I can take you away from all of this."

Icy dread snaked down his back. "How do you know my name?"

The man grinned. It didn't reach the rest of his face. "I know you don't belong with this brute. I can keep you safe."

"He doesn't know who the fuck you are, buddy." Gideon moved closer, a dangerous gambit considering the gun pointed square at his chest.

"Do you have a death wish, Lancelot? You're an invader in my territory. I could blow a hole the size of a fist through your head without even blinking."

Not only were they being stalked by an alien creature, now they had to deal with some gun-wielding psycho? Isaac tried to keep his breathing under control. "Please, don't hurt us. We're just trying to get by. We'll be out of your way soon."

The business man barked with laughter. "Hurt you, Isaac? Why would I ever do such a thing to someone so beautiful?"

Isaac didn't know how to respond to that. Gideon also looked caught off guard. Even putting aside the weapon and the threats, there was just something… off… about this man. "Who are you?"

The grin widened. "Call me Mr. Midnight."

"Please," Isaac said as innocently as he could, "Just let us go. There's something else here on the station. It's dangerous. We need to leave before it finds us."

"I'm afraid you don't understand what it is you truly want. But I can help you. I've come to lead you to the Black Corridor."

"The Black-?" Isaac started to reply, but Gideon took advantage of the moment and lunged forward, grabbing Mr. Midnight's hand and forcing it toward the ceiling. The gun fired, a startling sound in the room's droning silence. There was a struggle, and the gun flew from his hand, skittering across the floor. The room's deep shadows swallowed it before Isaac could see where it went.

Shit.

Gideon punched him square across his face, eliciting a horrified gasp. And then something shiny and silver appeared in Mr. Midnight's hand. A knife. He struck upward, slicing into the fabric between two of Gideon's armored plates. The knight snarled – whether in anger or pain, Isaac couldn't tell – and suddenly Mr. Midnight was on top of him, smiling victoriously and pressing the blade hard against his throat.

"You think I didn't come prepared?"

Despite the blood trickling down the side of his armor, Gideon gave a labored chuckle. "Doesn't matter. I was just the distraction."

Mr. Midnight's face finally conveyed an expression beyond icy calm. "From what?"

Walter appeared from the shadows and struck the man with so much force that Isaac was surprised he didn't hear bones cracking. Walter kicked the knife away, grabbed him by his crisp white dress shirt and punched him so hard it knocked him off his feet. The whole thing happened so quickly that it didn't even register with Isaac until Mr. Midnight's unconscious form hit the floor.

"Threat deterred," Walter said simply.

"Christ," Gideon coughed from the ground. "Took you long enough. Was starting to wonder if your wires got crossed."

"Please do not move. You're injured."

"Are you okay?" Isaac rushed forward.

Gideon started to reply when an inhumanly high-pitched squeal cut through the air. Isaac froze mid-step.

The alien.

It was close. The report of the gun must have drawn it to their location.

"I detect a hostile life form near the commuter bay entrance," Walter said calmly. "It's moving toward us. Quickly."

"The cab," Gideon strained as he tried to sit up. Walter bent over to help him. "Isaac, get back on the cab."

"But we just-"

"I echo Gideon's sentiment," Walter said, stringing the knight's arm over his shoulder. "The life form is blocking our exit. Head back for the train and hide there. Now."

The clawed footsteps of the creature grew louder.

"We're right behind you! Just go!"

Isaac broke into a run. The shipping crates, stacked in absurdly tall piles, formed a sort of haphazard maze, full of wrong turns and loops that fed into other loops. It wasn't long before Isaac realized three things: he was lost, he had no idea which way led back to the commuter cab, and Walter and Gideon were no longer behind him. He took a moment to catch his breath and get his bearings. If he called out, he'd attract the attention of the creature. If he didn't, he'd remain lost in a helpless spiral of chrome boxes.

Something came out of the darkness above. A long, segmented limb with a pointed barb at the end...

Heart pounding, Isaac hit the floor and scrambled under an open crate lying sideways. He heard a wet slithering sound before the thump of something heavy landing several feet away. Isaac dared a quick peek - the alien stood precious feet away. He stifled a gasp and ducked back. It was so close. Too close. Every time he saw the creature, he discovered something new and grotesque about it, like the raised fins along the back of its exoskeleton, or the fact that it had lips – bizarrely human lips – concealing two sets of teeth.

The alien thudded around the enclosed space for a moment before it leapt onto the very crate Isaac was hiding under.

Shit shit SHIT-

Its tail whipped down, striking the floor with a dull thud. The appendage slithered back and forth like an abnormally long cobra. Had it seen him yet? Unlike their last encounter, Isaac had no way to defend himself.

After several breathless seconds, the tail snaked out of sight. There was another thud, then pounding footsteps that gradually grew fainter. Once they faded completely, Isaac dared to take another peek out of the crate. It was gone. Only a trail of its viscous slime left any proof it was ever there.

Whether the creature was out of earshot was another question. But Isaac knew he couldn't stay hidden in the crate forever, as nice as an option it seemed, so he got up and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the slime trail.

Michiel limped through the dim corridor with all the strength his body could manage. Which, at that point, was hardly any. His escape from that hive… nest… whatever the fuck it was, had not been a walk in the park. Tearing himself free from that awful resin substance was one thing, avoiding that towering beast was another. He only barely got away with his life by diving into a vent and tumbling down a long airshaft that felt like it ran the length of the fucking Eiffel Tower. He managed to land on his side, but nothing broke his fall except a solid floor. He managed to sprain an ankle and snap a couple of ribs. Not ideal, but at least he wasn't paralyzed. The creature hadn't given chase for some reason. Michiel didn't need to know why. He just needed to move.

He couldn't figure out where he was on Vanguard One, but he knew he had limped through enough dark hallways and blood-spattered rooms to last him a lifetime. At some point he'd come across the body of a security guard. The body was missing a head and much of its chest cavity, a fact Michiel tried to ignore as he plucked the pistol off its stiff, pale hand. An instinct told him the creature wouldn't be too threatened by a gun, but at least he had something.

Two male voices - one monotone and oddly robotic, the other gruff and British - rose from around a corner in the hall. Michiel froze, clicked off the gun's safety and aimed it ahead of him. He leaned against the nearest wall for support.

"Would you get your fucking arm off me?" the British voice said, "We can't leave him in there!"

"He is likely as lost as we are," replied the serious voice. "And you're bleeding."

"We found the maintenance hatch. He didn't. We told Isaac to get back on the cab-"

Michiel's spine straightened. Could these two be-? No, they didn't sound like Kaysar and Wheeler. Or any of his crew mates. Pirates, survivors, whoever they were, he didn't like the fact that they were talking about Isaac.

As the two men appeared from around the corner, Michiel's face twisted into an expression of utter fury.

"What did you do with him?" he snarled, grip tightening on the revolver.

"Jesus Christ," said one of the men. A built guy with dirty blonde hair, stubble, and the weirdest outfit - like some kind of modern templar knight without a helmet. He looked injured. "How many trigger-happy psychopaths does this station have?"

"I said, where's Isaac?"

The second man held out his hand in deference. He was dark haired, whipcord lean and stood with perfect posture. He wore blue maintenance coveralls that had the Company logo. A Walter unit? "Please notice the calmness of my neutral, non-confrontational words. Isaac is my colleague and Gideon's partner."

"Gideon's what? Who the fuck are you people?"

"Man, Isaac's gonna have a fit when I tell him you called him that."

Michiel was tired of this. He shot the floor, inches away from their feet. That got their attention.

"I've had a really bad fucking day. First my shipmates go missing, then I wake up in this slaughterhouse. Someone better tell me what's going on before I make it worse."

"Did you say shipmates?" the British man asked. Michiel noticed his hand was on his hip, near the holster of his own gun, but he made no motion to grab it. His other hand pressed a tourniquet against a wound on the side of his armored outfit.

These people weren't hostile. They appeared more confused than threatened, if anything. Michiel eased off the intensity a bit. But just a bit. "That's right. We docked here recently. The Tenjin."

The men looked at each other, and then the Walter unit nodded. "I believe we're all on the same side, here. Let's start this conversation over from the beginning. Shall we?"