It started out as just another day of wondering what was wrong with me, another day of being studied by my husband, another day of sitting in a Rhino while my husband loads and unload cargo around Liberty. About a month ago, I ate a synth burger that was contaminated with a potent mutigen. My husband, with a PhD in biology, and a fear that I would be locked up by the guys in lab coats, studied me. Just today he found out what was wrong with me - my body naturally produces a potent mutigen, the same type that was in the contaminated burger. Yep, just another ordinary day for me. Until my husband tried to kill me.
It happened suddenly. My husband was pointing a Garner Blaster Magnum at me. Apparently low-caliber weapons aren't good enough; he had to use a hand cannon to kill me. He was crying, he loved me so. He still managed to muster the willpower to fire, but he couldn't muster the strength to handle the recoil.
The shot hits the ceiling. Thinking quickly, I grabbed the gun from his hand, and tied him up. Not wanting to leave him, I grab onto him very tightly. He starts complaining about how my body is radioactive, and how me holding him will kill him.
The ship comm systems turns on. Apparently the LSF wants to know what is going on. I tell them how I was rehearsing a play, how the gunshot was special effects, and that the green tint to my skin was nothing but makeup. They didn't buy it, and they said that they were going to board the ship.
I push the thruster lever all the way forward. There is no way that the LSF are going to board this ship. By the time they realized what happened, I was already kilometers away from them. I set course for the Colorado gate, and filled a syringe with my own blood, knowing that probably contains some of the mutagen.
The autopilot spits out an error message. Turns out the gate was locked down - nothing could get through. Great. Just great. By the time I got my ship over to the Jersey Debris Field, the LSF caught up to me. My ship got hit with a cruise disruptor. The engines, being the piece of junk that was the whole entire ship, needed a full minute to reset themselves. The chase was over.
A troop transport pulled alongside my ship. An explosion was heard as a airlock was blown off, and marines in bio hazard suits stormed the freighter. I jammed the syringe filled with blood into my husband's arm, before being dragged away by the marines.
The marines took control of the bridge. They struggled with the piece of junk control console for a bit before setting course for Norfolk Shipyard. The ship docked, and I am dragged out of the ship and into a empty white quarantine holding cell, where scientists began poking and prodding me with needles.