C.A.N.E : A Dead Space Fanfiction

Chapter 1:

The Clarke Academy of Necromorph Elimination

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Collin was on his way to evening indoctrination. Apparently, Danik was supposed to being giving a sermon today, and that warranted going for a second time in one week. He heard those Christians still on earth sometimes do that just for the hell of it. Go more than once a week. For Unitologists, especially new ones like him? That was something only the truly fanatical did, which he wasn't yet.

He jsut went for the comfort. It eased his mind from the filth he had to live in. God, did he hate living on New Horizons.

"Remember folks. Keep your plasma cutter handy and cut off their limbs. Leave the markers to us."

He jerked at the advertisement on the billboard of the train cart. Isaac Clarke's insufferable face smiling with a plasma cutter in one hand and the head of a "necromorph" in the other.

What a vile name for the ascended ones. And to depict those blessed by the marker with eternal life as so hideous, it was clear propaganda.

"It wasn't enough that they gave him Titan Station and the Ishumura, now he's advertising his heresy?" The woman next to him, Aisha if her remembered from indoctrination, complained.

"It's worse." Said Michael, the third member of his cart pooling group. "Apparently now he's suing for the intellectual rights to markers."

Collin assumed he misheard him.

"Wait. What?!" He demanded.

"Yup." Said Michael. "Says they're his intellectual property since, you know, he made them all."

That was asinine! How could somebody claim to legally own religious artifacts?

"That's kinda hilarious if you think about it." Said some rando on the cart next to them. "Takes the concept of intellectual property to a very literal level. They made the things with his literal brain matter, didn't they?"

The three of them glared at the woman who butted into their conversation. She shrugged, raised her hands in a placating gesture, and walked away.

Even if he was legally in the correct, that didn't make it right! Didn't the man have any moral compunctions with trying to take away the things worshiped and cherished by so many Unitologists across the galaxy? That he had so little shame in lying about his experiences on the Ishumura and Titan and was completely unapologetic for destroying two already, now he wanted to legally acquire and destroy all of the others?

"There's still hope." Said Michael. "Even if he wins, he could only argue his case for the ones he made. Or more accurately, can prove he made. Not the original or any of the others whose origins can't directly be linked to him."

The unamused look Aisha and Collin gave him shut him up. That was a dumb game to try and play.

"Well I doubt he will win. On merit? Maybe. But no EarthGov judge would make a ruling to just hand over the last hope for solving humanities energy problems." Aisha offered.

"You know, hoping for the corruption of the EarthGov legal system to work in our favor seems a bit counter-intuitive and UnUnitologist of you." Collin point out.

She made an expression he could only describe as ashamed, but she didn't have to suffer the shame for long as the train stopped then.

"Now arriving at station eighty-three. Marker Test Lab and Unitology Central Church."

That was their stop. They disembarked and weaved their way through the crowd of worshipers on their way to hear Danik's sermon. A lot of faces he didn't see regularly decided to come out and join them today. Posers.

The climb up from the subway was a pain as always, the stairs not expanded to account for the increase in population for centuries. But when they reached the top the streets above sure were. The wide open concrete park separating the megachurch and the even more mega power plant was more than large enough for everybody. And yet, there seemed to be a cramped crowed right in the middle of the open space.

"Oh no. Don't tell me." Aisha complained.

Being the rubber-neckers they all were, the trio followed to crowd towards to commotion. There were already police gathered and they seemed more preoccupied trying to disperse the worshipers than with whatever was attracting so much attention. And when Collin finally saw what it was, he groaned.

A fully armored and fully-armed member of the Clarke militia was standing right there in front of the Altman statue. What. An. Asshole.

"You're just going to let him stand out here trying to intimidate us?!" A woman yelled at the officers.

"Ma'am, this is a public space. He is allowed to loiter here to his hearts content." The police officer said boredly.

"But he is walking around in public with weapons!" An older man pointed out.

The officer looked between the Clarkean and the geriatric in question with a dumbfounded expression.

"The plasma cutter and blow torch?! Those are perfectly legal tools!" The officer, clearly overworked from dealing with these complaints, whined.

"Only to certified users. Did you check his credentials?" Another woman demanded.

The officer sighed, dejected and defeated.

"Ma'am, profiling somebody for a credential check because of their affiliation with any organization is very illegal for me to do." The officer told them.

The Clarkean finally piped up.

"It is also illegal to try and pressure somebody else into doing, as this fine woman just did to you." The Clarkean said through the mask.

The police officer visibly brightened at his words and withdrew a pair of handcuffs.

"Ma'am, you are under arrest for attempting to pressure a police officer into a committing a felony." The officer explained as he advanced on her with the handcuffs. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You the right to an attorney..."

The crowd quickly backed away from the frozen woman and police officer apprehending her. They all, along with Aisha and Michael, turned around to finally head into church. But Collin didn't. He stayed right where he was.

It wasn't illegal for the Clarkean to be there intimidating them. It also wasn't illegal for him to stay there and intimidate the Clarkean.

"You guys go ahead. I'll join you in a bit." Collin told his... friends was a strong word.

They didn't give any sign that they either heard him or cared, and soon enough the crowd thinned to a point where it was just him and the Clarkean, with nobody else in earshot. The police officer had dragged the poor woman away. It did kind of serve her right.

"Is it true about the blow torches?" Collin asked.

The Clarkean looked at him.

"What about them?" He asked.

"Is it true you can use them as flamethrowers?" Collin elaborated.

The man removed the blow torch from the saddle on his right hip and flicked it on with his thumb. A thin, bright, whistling flame erupted from the nozzle. A farcry from a flamethrower.

"It would be theoretically possible to modify a blow torch into a flamethrower by replacing the nozzle with a custom made one and a pressure gauge for the oxygen and acetylene. But that would be illegal, and I am a law-abiding citizen." The Clarkean explained, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

Collin's eyes were inexplicably drawn to the saddle he had taken the blow torch out of. There, tucked away behind where said blow torch had been, was a long nozzle and two pressure gauges. Collin couldn't help himself, he broke down into uproarious laughter.

"That is so brilliant! Even if the officer was still here to see those modifications, he couldn't recognize their purpose, let alone link them to any intent to break the law. you guys are the funnest breed of assholes, you know that?" Collin said. "The law-abiding variety. Do they teach power tool maintenance" at that school of yours?"

The Clarkean chuckled, but turned off the torch and returned it to its saddle.

"Among other things, yes." He admitted.

"Enough to save us all from hordes of these "necromorphs" you keep warning about?" Collin challenged.

This time, it was the Clarkean's turn to laugh uproariously. Very uproariously. He was grasping his stomach and seemed ready to keel over from lack of breath.

"Save you?!" He choked out. "We are not in the business of saving anybody. No. No! My job, in the event of a necromorph outbreak, is to plant my ass right here and wait."

Collins blinked at him. The images of those things from Titan station and the accounts of the thousands of survivors who escaped at the beginning of the outbreak were... not faith shattering, but certainly faith challenging.

"Wait? Wait for what?" Collin asked.

"For all of the poor EarthGov soldiers in that building over there to die off so I can go in and destroy the marker." He explained, pointing at the marker power plant. "And amused myself in the meantime by dismembering the reanimated corpses of you and your fellow acolytes as they swarm out of the other building. Need to keep my aim sharp."

Collin didn't bother trying to stop the look of horror on his face.

"Nobody? You're not going to try and save a single person?" Collin asked.

"Nope. Not a one." Said the Clarkean.

"Why not? If Clarke is half the hero he is reported to be..." Collins started before the Clarkean interrupted.

"And there was your mistake. Isaac Clarke is not a hero. Never was. He is a survivor. He is a destroyer. And he trained us to be the same. We survive. We destroy. Necromorphs, Markers, Unitologists, soldiers and anybody else who gets in our way. All will shatter in our wake when the time comes." The Clarkean declared. "You want to be saved? Go pray to that Altman guy. Or Christ, or Allah or what have you. You want to survive? Go get yourself a plasma cutter."

This guy was for real! Holy shit, he meant every word. And if this is what the students were like, how hard core was the teacher?

"You are one man. Alone. You think you're enough to survive and destroy should what happened on Titan happen again here?" Collin challenged.

"I have to be. Alone is the only way to fight them. Free lesson straight from Clarke's mouth. In a necromorph outbreak, do not seek help or to help others. Do not try to work together with others. If you want to know why, stick around for the next outbreak here. Or go study under clarke himself."

Collins made a blow off motion, waving his had and blowing a strawberry.

"Right! Like he'd ever accept me. I couldn't even make it into the Earth Gov military; asthma and mental health rejection. And he wouldn't take a Unitologist anyways." Collin said dejectedly.

"He absolutely would take you." The Clarkean said.

"What? Even though I’m a unitologist?" He asked.

"Yup." He said.

"With asthma?" He clarified. “And… issues?

"If anything, that would make him want you more." The Clarkean declared. "You survived, what, forty years in a war against your body and mind? That is what he trains us to do. You are halfway there. You even got an attitude and sense of humor on you. You'd do well."

Collin stared at the man and backed away in a fear he didn't completely understand.

He glanced to the church, the lights declaring that the sermon was about to begin. He had joined hoping to be part of something bigger. Rumors about them forming militias and the hope of being able to feel anything in the constant gray despondency of life in the 25th century had gotten him into church. He had hoped for some kind of camaraderie, maybe even the chance to fight in an actual coming war that everyone was certain was coming. So far he'd just gotten some emotional highs and frenemies.

But here, standing in front of him, was a man who represented real purpose. He had real conviction, hope and the strength to back it up. And even though he stood here alone he stood as if an entire battalion of others like him were right at his back.

If he couldn't be a soldier as a part of an army, then could he be a one-man army strong enough to weather the apocalypse? That was a plausible alternative.

"How do I sign up?" He demanded.

"You don't." He said. "You just have to show up to Titan station, and you're in."

"That's it? A short shockpoint trip to Jupiter and I'm in? what does it cost?" Collin asked.

"It costs one shockpoint trip to Jupiter, which the academy will reimburse you for, along with the return trip should you need one." He said. "Food and housing is covered during your time there so long as you perform your duties as a student, and upon leaving you are also reimbursed for the shockpoint trip back."

Collin stared at the man suspiciously. This screamed scam. As all things that claimed to have no strings attached, this seemed like even more of a scam than the church that demanded his regular contributions. Despite him being nearly homeless and said secular church being wealthy beyond imagination.

"And how long does his academy take to graduate from?" He asked.

"Theoretically? A single day." The man said.

"Theoretically?" Collins asked.

"Very theoretically. The entrance exam is also the graduation exam. You could theoretically pass it the first try." He said.

"Can I get all of that in writing?" Collin asked. "The reimbursement, graduation polices and whatnot?"

The man shrugged.

"It's all on their website. You can buy the ticket through the website, and it comes out of their bank account instead of yours." The man said. "Unless you fail to take said trip, in which case they take the money back from you through the bank information you provide."

Collins glared at the man even more suspiciously but withdrew his PDA from his pocket all the same. After all, what was the harm in a few minutes of research?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Collin had never screamed so hard in his life as he was right now, running from those monstrosities

"Oh god somebody help me!" He pleaded as he sprinted down the hallway from the Ishimura lounge.

He had expected a quiz, or medical test or an obstacle course. Not to be chased by honest to God necromorphs! Was there an active marker on Titan station? How was that even possible?!

He should have never listened to that Clarkean. His indoctrination leader had warned him that it could only be a deception by the heretic, but he hadn't listened. And now here he was baseball sliding under a mutilated, reanimated corpse that had just leapt at him from a weirdly transparent vent cover.

There! An elevator! Hopefully leading to salvation.

"Thank Altman!" He praised as he approached the means of escape.

Before he could even try to press the open button his legs went completely stiff and he fell flat on his face, the EVA rig making the fall completely painless save for the shock. Then, a split second later, every single limb on his body locked up and he couldn't move at all. His vision went dark and all sound ceased.

"That was pathetic." Isaac Clarke's voice. "You didn't even make it to the plasma cutter."

Light, sound and feeling returned to the world and Collin realized it was the suit that had locked up, not his actual body. That was a rather cruel imitation of dying, wasn't it?

He remembered the necromorph chasing him and turned around to see it laying limp on the ground like a ragdoll. In fact, those sharp, bony spikes in place of arm were suddenly soft and gelatinous. He reached down to touch the corpse and discovered most of it was rubber, he could even see the aluminium skeleton beneath the imitation flesh.

The overhead lights turned on flooding the dimly lit hallway with white, florescent light. Under the better conditions he could see the hologram projectors that made the illusion of working vent covers and the cheapness of the paint meant to look like blood on the walls.

"Please return to the starting point of the obstacle course." A cool, robotic voice instructed. "Simulation, shitting down."

Oh. Ohhh. It had been an obstacle course. A very convincing one at that. He was still shaking. And he had failed it miserably.

Wait, was that the entrance and exit exam? Were they expected to beat that in a single go? Wait, was the entire Aegis VII incident simulated on that ship? That would take almost an entire day and night to complete! There was no fucking chance of somebody passing that on the first try.

His feet carried him back the way he had come ads he thought, and upon entering the lounge again it was to come face to face with Isaac Clarke and Ellie Langford waiting for him. It was upon seeing them that he realized his internal monologue had been wrong. One man had survived such a test, but for him it had been real.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself mister Collin?" Ellie asked.

Collin felt the locks on his helmet disengage and he reached up to remove it, tasting the fresh air.

"That was incredible!" He gushed, breathlessly.

Whatever response they had been expecting, that clearly wasn't it. the looks on their faces told him that much.

"You fitted the suit to simulate injuries and lock up when struck by the dummies. And the cutting off of visual and auditory sensors? Brilliant. I didn't even feel myself get hit, but that's probably a good thing. A hit from the real thing would have removed limbs huh?" he asked.

Isaac chuckled at his enthusiasm.

"Yeah. We can't exactly have an obstacle course with robots actually as deadly as real necromorphs. In fact, the damn things are so cheap you will be expected to check and maintain them as part of your training." Isaac Clarke said. "Among many other things, you will also be a skilled enough electrician and mechanic to manage this obstacle course, in addition to the combat skills and know how."

"Incredible!" Collin declared again.

"Indeed." Said Ellie. "And if you stick with this program, then by the end of your time here you will be incredible too."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Notes:

Alternative title: A mountain of reasons why Dead Space 3 is idiotic.

There is so much about the premise of Dead Space 3 that doesn't even work in the rules of the Dead Space universe. I could suspend disbelief on more markers being made. There were a lot of survivors escaping Titan at the beginning of DS2, and a lot of the data from Isaac's work could have been shared with other entities. But Isaac remaining under the radar for all that time? The truth about necromorphs not reaching every single human being in the galaxy? Said humans not walking around with plasma cutters and practicing their aim for limb cutting? The Untilogy church gaining power instead of losing it from these events? Not a chance on all of the above.

In this world Isaac sued everyone's balls off and won, and now you see the results.

Collin is an actual character from Dead Space 3, but he only has one voice line and is never seen. I needed a Unitologist that was alive after the events Dead Space 2 and he fit the bill.

Probably won't continue this story. It really was just a plot bunny I needed to get out of my head. The next necromorph outbreak in this universe will last ten minutes because every man, woman and child will have a plasma cutter and be ready for them. The free sharing of information was all that was needed to counteract the danger of markers. A few viral videos from Titan is all it would have taken.

If I were to continue this story it would amount to Isaac Clarke acerbically teaching all of the finer details of necromorph elimination, which I admit could be hilarious.