595’s suit alarms pinged as the massive centipede rolled her flat. “Pressure warning. Twenty eight thousand kilopascals. Please remove..-” The Agent left her pistol lodged in the thing’s head and pushed against the thing’s body with both her arms and legs. Her grunt of exertion turned into a shout as its mass gradually began rolling off the other side.

The beast must have sensed it was going to flip back over, because it decided to right itself. The roll accelerated rapidly, with 595 providing more encouragement as she freed her right arm and leg. It’s head crushed the wedged pistol against the floor, driving the bayonet and barrel deep into the soft tissue.

The centipede gurgled, thrashing about desperately as it completed the roll. 595 didn’t waste time, jumping to her feet and leaping onto its neck again. She hung on for dear life, yelling angrily as the creature careened around the narrow passage. They crashed against a wall and clung on by virtue of the bayonet stuck in it’s armour. She yanked it out and shoved her hand in the cavity instead.

Suddenly, she could feel the thing’s primitive thoughts and feelings, it’s pain and drive to protect the hive. She grasped her hand around that consciousness and squeezed like she’d been taught, all those years ago. Their mouths opened simultaneous and the same incandescent burst emitted from both. And then, the centipede disintegrated into a heap of black particles with one last screech and 595 disappeared in a flash of light.