Okay, "Dr. Cole", stay calm. Remember the reconditioning. Play the role. Let the alien talk. Nod. Smile a lot.
Okay, fine, off to a space station. Contact with it has been lost. There were other details, but who knows what they are. It takes a lot of effort to focus on this identity.
We've arrived at the station. There's some kind of rocky landing pod lodged in it. Systems appear to be operating within safe parameters. There's no way any of the personnel on board are still alive. Whatever was in that rocky nightmare has aced them all by now. Great. You'll probably be next. Whatever. It's better than the hole.
Going in now. Let the aristocrat take the lead. Take cues from the merc. This is their show. Just follow along and act like a jackass. Low expectations, "Dr. Cole."
We're in the lab. Records indicate some kind of experiments on live animals involving gravity. Holy hell, there's a gorilla loose. At least the logs indicate as much. Those things - if enraged - will snap a man in half.
Oh, look, the ape already did in some poor SOB named Johnson. Act surprised. Make a joke about how chimpanzees will go for a man's fingers, face and genitals. They do attack in that manner, but so do other men. Stab a man in the groin and watch him bleed out like a firehose.
STAY IN CHARACTER! CONTROL THOSE THOUGHTS!
There's a glass partition. Gas on the other side. Someone is moving around inside. Holy crap, the merc just popped the door. Go time.
Damn, that merc just skinned that hog leg of his and blew a crewman's head off. Probably for the best as it looked infested with a parasite. Poor sonuvabitch. Oh well.
Grab an axe off the wall. It's heavy. These things used to not be heavy, but we had to lose a lot of weight as part of the "rehabilitation." No more fighting. No more carving 'em up real nice. You're a thinking type now. Let the aristocrat and merc laugh. That's okay. Better to be laughed at than to be back in the cell. Besides, the reconditioning. You can't hurt anyone. Not even if you wanted to.
Whoa! A female just shambled out of the mist. Incredible body, but her head is full of parasites. I could splatter her brains with this axe, but that'd be too obvious. Make a feeble attempt at pushing her back into the mist. Let her/it push you back. Yeah, you're a real nancy-boy now. That's alright. They made your face real nice so it's okay. You're smart, too. It will all work out.
Nice! The nobleman just cut loose with his pistol. He let that smokewagon put in some work. Shot the polyps right off her head. Fancy shooting indeed.
The mist is clear. It's plain to see that the landing pod made contact at this level. There's an opening clear as day, like some gaping rocky maw inviting us in. A little damp around the edges. Just get right in there.
BELAY THOSE THOUGHTS!!!!
We're not inside anymore.
Stupid glowing gloves.
Mild mannered. A new life. New identity. Fresh start....