Vanbrook was taking out some aggression on a punching bag. The gym was empty this time of day, and he was glad for that. Sometimes it was nice to be alone in the world. While he was contemplating, someone walked into the room.
He looked up in time to see Raivyn turning around at the door.
“Rai, wait,” he called. She stopped, and slumped her shoulders. She half-turned, looking at him over her shoulder from the doorway.
“What do you want, Vanbrook?” she demanded.
“To apologize,” he said flatly, staring at the floor. “I was pretty shook up. I said something stupid. It won’t happen again.” He looked back up, grimacing.
Raivyn stomped into the room, fist shaking and eyes flashing as she went. Vanbrook picked his head up, looking her square in the eyes as she closed the distance between them, shaking an accusatory finger in his face.
“Do you understand what kind of responsibility I have?” she demanded. “Do you know what it’s like to be a ‘freak?’”
Vanbrook winced and looked away, not sure what to say.
“No,” Raivyn continued, wagging a finger in Vanbrook’s face. “No, you don’t. I follow the Republic’s psychic-specific rules of engagement to the letter to avoid doing anything irresponsible or inappropriate with my abilities. I knocked, you opened the door, and I kicked Traelby out of your tiny, little mind. So yeah, you said something stupid. And I sincerely hope it won’t happen again. But you said it. We will keep working together; Talon Squad will continue to be the most effective special squad the Republic has. But I will not pretend that my tolerance for you goes beyond professional courtesy.”
Vanbrook stared at her, stone faced. He walked over to the wall and picked up his gym bag and moved past Raivyn to the door.
“Gym’s all yours,” he said brusquely. “See you for the next job.”
Just then, alarms started sounding through the ship. Jasken’s voice came over the ship’s public comm channel.
“All hands, there has been an incident in the brig area. Details are unknown at this time. All systems are to go into lockdown. All non-combat personnel, lock yourselves into the nearest room. All combat personnel, a picture of all three current prisoners will be sent to your comm devices immediately. These individuals must be stopped immediately. Take them alive if possible.”
Vanbrook dropped his gym bag, rifled through it and pulled out his revolver and a large knife, which he clipped onto the waistband of his athletic pants.
“Guess it’s time for the next job,” he said, not looking at Raivyn. She pulled her comms unit out of her sweatsuit, calling the other members of the squad.
“Everyone, I want to know where you are and what you know. Reclan, meet Vanbrook at the brig. Everyone else, head for the main hangar. No doubt Traelby will head for the star tree.”
***
Moments before, Traelby had been quietly stewing in his cell when he felt something change. Then the lights went out. The T-wave blockers were down, he was sure of it.
The two guards were wearing T-proof helmets. He could probably break through their defenses, but there was an easier way. Reaching out with a mental hand, he ripped the closer guard over the bars of his cell, put an arm around his neck and pulled his pistol, shooting the second guard. He then turned the gun on the guard he was choking and shot him point blank.
He pushed on the cell door and it swung open without resistance. The other two prisoners did the same. The first prisoner darted for the other guard’s gun and Traelby shot him in the back.
The other prisoner put his hands up, saying, “I’m with you, m-”
Traelby put a round in his forehead and walked out of the door, only to hear alarms begin blaring. Admiral Jasken’s voice came out over the comms. Traelby ignored it, running to put some distance between himself and the brig. Rounding a corner, he saw someone duck into a room. He dove in after them before the door was shut.
Seeing the Astralbian’s armor, the Dromean medic he’d followed raised a shaking finger, pointing at him in horror.
“Yes, I’m the escapee,” he grinned. “Now tell me where the hangar is or die.”
“N-no!” she said, snapping a deadly kick at him with a clawed foot. Traelby reached out with his mind and stopped the foot in mid air. He crushed her ankle with a thought.
“Where?” he demanded, infusing the words with psychically-induced terror.
***
Vanbrook heard the shot just before Traelby exited the room, the medic now dead on the floor behind him. He raised his revolver and fired at the fugitive. The shot went wide, grazing the Astralbian’s arm.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Traelby shot Vanbrook a wicked grin and then turned to the wall, running directly into it. His cloak and armor clattered to the floor, but his body phased through the wall. It was a rare trick, but Vanbrook had heard some of the most powerful psychics were able to disperse themselves through solid material and come out on the other side unscatched.
Vanbrook shouted into his comm, “I’m down at the brig, I have at least one person down. Traelby just phased into the wall. He can’t keep that up long but he’s probably making a bee-line for the hangar.”
“Understood,” said Raivyn, “Doc and D’Jarric are with me. You and Reclan need to make your way here, we’ll see you there!”
Vanbrook ran like a madman, taking the shortest possible route to the hangar. He rounded a corner just in time to see a flash of blue melt into the far wall.
“He’s nearly there!” cried Vanbrook.
“We’re ready for- there he is!” replied Raivyn.
Raivyn stowed her comm and tried to reach out with her mind to stop the blue form that had leapt out of the far wall and began streaking towards the star tree. Running through a hail of fire from the Republic sailors guarding the tree, he warded off her psychic attack and leapt through the door, into the living ship.
The hangar door alarm sounded.
“IF YOU BREATHE AIR AND WANT TO KEEP DOING SO, GET OUT NOW!” Raivyn shouted to the guards still in the hangar. Everyone scrambled towards the mandoor, but there wasn’t time. Those stuck behind ran to the emergency oxygen masks on the wall and clamped their mag-boots to the floor. The air was sucked out of the room as the mandoor clamped shut and the hangar door opened wide. One guard tripped on his way to the oxygen masks. His mag-boots lost connection with the deck and he was sucked into the aether.
Raivyn pulled the emergency hangar door release. It was designed to slam the hangar door shut in worst case scenarios, but its power had evidently been cut.
D’Jarric and Doc, who didn’t need oxygen, fired on the star tree, but it was too late. It blasted off and was gone before they could do any significant damage.
“Jasken,” Raivyn screamed into her comm. “He took the star tree, you’ll need to scramble fighters!”
Before she finished the sentence there was a muffled blast and the whole ship went dark.
On the bridge, Jasken was pacing nervously, waiting for news. It appeared that someone was surgically cutting off systems throughout the ship, starting in the brig.
He'd set off the alarm as soon as someone from surveillance reported blacked out cameras on that part of the ship. Having personnel watching the cameras was only meant as a back up; alarms should have automatically gone off. He sent a security team to maintenance while Talon Squad went to stop Traelby, who almost certainly played a role here.
The team had reported back that a maintenance worker had evidently been stabbed to death and that they would report back soon.
Raivyn's voice came through the comm, "Jasken, he took the star tree, you'll need to scra-"
A distant blast reverberated through the ship and everything went dark.
Back in the main hangar, D'Jarric ran to Raivyn, who was still tugging on the emergency release.
"Step aside," he said gently.
Once she was out of the way, he tore the panel off the wall. Staring at the mechanism for a moment, he reached in and yanked on a promising-looking piston. With a horrible scream of metal and a horrendous crash, the door slammed over head, then the airlock door flew open and sweet, breathable air rushed into the hangar.
“DJ, you are a genius,” she said, turning to the Solaran. He held his wrist, his hand just a buzzing mess of static.
“Thanks,” he said with a smile, “but I don’t know how often geniuses get their hands caught in mechanical equipment.”
“Alright,” said Doc, “let me take a look.”
“No, help the others,” said D’Jarric. “I can wait.” Doc looked around at the others still in the hangar, all of them biologicals. The majority had remembered their training and breathed out as the hangar door opened, which had probably saved their lives. The two who didn’t were lying face down. The air in their lungs had expanded with the lack of atmospheric pressure. The rest would be lucky to get out of this with some minor internal bruising from the expansion of bodily fluids. After unceremoniously sticking a wave tuner into D’Jarric’s wrist, he started triaging patients as he waited for more help to arrive.
Vanbrook and Reclan rushed into the hangar, staggering to a stop and taking in the carnage. Raivyn looked at them with pained, bloodshot eyes.
“He opened the hangar door with us inside,” she said. “I’d be in much worse shape, but I managed to trap a bubble of atmo around myself with T-waves.”
“Good,” said Vanbrook, “I think we’re gonna need to be at full strength for the next while here.” He looked at D’Jarric’s sparking hand and added, “Oh.”
D’Jarric shrugged and smiled glumly.
***
Drixen was pacing by the fighter hangars with the rest of the fight squads when his comm went off.
“Drixen, this is Admiral Jasken, I need your squads out as soon as possible. Traelby just escaped in the commandeered star tree.”
“Admiral,” he responded. “This is Drixen. Can’t get into the hangers; there’s no atmo. We’ll need aethersuits just to get through the airlock.”
“I’ll get them to you,” said the Admiral.
What felt like a lifetime later, Talon Squad came around the bend, carrying stacks of aethersuits and bubble helmets.
“Fresh from the secondary hangar,” said Vanbrook, handing a stack to Drixen. All in all there were more than enough for all fifteen pilots and a few extras. Reclan and Raivyn donned two of these to help work as techs to get the others ready and aetherborne.
The blue, leotard-like suits zipped up in the front, with built in mag-boots and gloves and a clear, spherical helmet locked into the collar. The collars and helmets came in a number of different specifications to fit the species and build of the wearer. The suits were pressurized with a paper-thin inflatable layer that allowed for maximum flexibility, and an oxygen tank strapped on the back with a tube feeding into the helmet completed the ensemble.
It took longer than Drixen would have liked, but eventually they were all dressed, through the airlock, and in their fighters. Reclan opened the hangar door with some well applied mechanical knowledge and a lot of elbow grease, and then quickly exited the airlock to allow the fighters to take off.
Talon squad regrouped outside the airlock, all at a loss.
“Man,” said Vanbrook. “How did Traelby manage all this?”
“He didn’t,” spat Raivyn. “Someone on this ship was helping him.”