than a glance. The alarms are still blaring, the PA still shouting warning about the fire Zila set in the electrical conduits. I make a mental note to ask Fin exactly why he has a propane torch hidden in his exosuit, and what other surprises he has stashed in that thing.
Presuming we make it out of this alive, that is.
The brig is almost deserted—most of the troopers are upstairs looking for us. I see a hallway beyond the admissions area, lined with heavy doors. A junior officer is typing at a workstation, and a second sits behind the counter, shouting into a comms unit over the ship-wide alarm. He holds up one hand at me, signaling I should wait.
And then it starts.
It’s a weird prickling on the back of my neck at first. The air suddenly feels greasy—charged almost, like with static electricity. There’s a noise, above the thrum of the engines, below the shriek of the alarm. Almost …
Whispering?
I look to Kal, and from the slight frown on his face, I can tell he hears it, too. The brig officer blinks, looks in the direction of the holding cells.
Without warning, the lights flicker out, plunging us into darkness. The whisper gets louder, almost sharp enough to make out the words, and the room … vibrates. High-pitched screams sound out in the black, followed by a wet crunching noise, and every holding cell door buckles simultaneously, titanium crumpling like paper.
Every display on every console dies.
The engines and alarms are suddenly silenced.
The dull illumination of emergency lighting kicks in overhead.
Terran destroyers have four separate reactors, a hundred fail-safes and a dozen different backup systems. But impossible as it is, I realize the entire ship has suddenly and completely lost power. The silence after all that noise is deafening, and I look down the hallway, wondering what on Earth is going on here. Spilling from beneath one of those crushed doors is a long, dark, gray slick of what can only be—
“Blood,” the brig officer whispers, reaching for his sidearm.
Kal takes his chance, sloughing off his mag-restraints and slamming them into the officer’s throat. The man falls back gasping, and Kal vaults the counter, strikes twice, and leaves him unconscious and bleeding on the floor. The junior officer turns with a shout, sidearm raised, and Kal has broken his wrist and his elbow and then knocked him senseless before I can squeeze my trigger.
The Syldrathi straightens, tossing his long braids back off his shoulders, his face as impassive as if he’d just ordered dinner.
Great Maker, he’s good. …
I’ve no idea what just killed the power, but we’ve got no time to start a global inquiry about it. The overheads start flickering like strobes, and I come to my senses, leap the counter after my Tank. Dashing down the hallway, we skid to a stop on the blood-slicked door. I raise my disruptor rifle, heart beating quick, nod to Kal. Though he’s stronger than a human, it’s still a stretch for him, but finally he drags the cell door aside with a squeal of metal.
I step inside, weapon raised and ready.
“Maker’s breath,” I whisper.
Aurora is slumped in a single metal chair, restraints at her wrists. Her eyes are closed, blood dripping from her nose, spilling over her chin. The floor, ceilings, and walls are buckled outward, almost in a spherical shape. I see two faceless helmets on the floor, two charcoal-gray suits crumpled beside them, their contents smeared up the wall in a strange mixture of gray and black, textures unrecognizable. They go all the way up to the ceiling, like the people inside them were tubes of toothpaste and someone just … squeezed.
“Amna diir … ,” Kal breathes.
“Grab Aurora,” I say, fighting the churning in my gut. “We’ve gotta move.”
He nods, his face grim. He kneels beside those shredded suits and rummages in the soggy pockets, finally producing a passkey. With a swipe, Aurora’s restraints are unlocked, and Kal lifts her effortlessly, gently cradles her in his arms. Then we’re moving across the bloody floor, out into the strobing light, wet footprints behind us. My disruptor rifle has a small torch slung under the barrel, a slice of light showing us the way through all that flickering gloom.
The elevators have no power, so we hit the stairs, barreling down as quick as we can to level five. Slipping out though the door I see four TDF troopers in a huddle around a wall comms console, trying to raise the bridge.