Having been in his fair share of fights during his early military years, Harris knew that once the advantage was gained, you should never let your enemy regroup. And right now, Peterson was his enemy. He was the entire crew's enemy. Harris unleashed a flurry of blows to Peterson's kidneys that he knew would cause the man to pee blood for the next few weeks, but he needed to end this fight quickly and that usually did the trick. The effect was instantaneous.

Peterson clutched his side and winced. Harris stood and watched as Peterson's legs shook with the pain. The man was beaten.

Moving to the com console, Harris prepared to call the crew back from the surface. He didn't want anyone out of his sight until they understood what was happening to Peterson. He'd only turned his back to Peterson for five seconds.

"Interesting, the way you feel pain." It was Peterson.

Spinning around quickly, Harris almost fell over backward with surprise when he saw Peterson standing on his feet, looking as though nothing had happened. He wore no expression of pain and aside from the fresh wrinkles on his uniform, appeared just as he had when he first entered in the control center. Peterson charged forward, wildly flailing his fists.

Harris sidestepped, placed a hand behind Peterson's skull and extended his foot. Peterson went down hard, striking his forehead on the nearest console. The crack of bone on metal made Harris wince.

Petersons's body lay still on the floor, a pool of crimson liquid gathering around his head. With a slow jagged movement, Peterson moved his lips. "P…Plea…"

Harris starred at Petersons's lips, utterly amazed the man was still attempting to form words. A flash of movement to the side told Harris that Peterson's failed speaking attempt was all just a clever distraction. But the realization came too late. Looking down, Harris saw the rake swing across the floor in a wide arc. The pole clipped him behind both ankles with surprising force that sent him to the floor.

When he looked up, Peterson was already standing above him.

"Vaccination."

He wasn't sure if the man was just speaking gibberish or if he was pleading for some kind of cure to whatever was wreaking havoc with his mind. It didn't matter. As Peterson raised the rake above his head, Harris realized that he would die above Europa, along with the rest of the crew.

Peterson brought the rake down, smashing into Harris's skull. When Peterson stood back, blood gushed over the sides of Harris's face and onto the floor. Peterson stepped over the body and exited the control center.

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