Scission: VIPs
"It is Madam Prevor," Tyr said as he pried the panel from beside the cell door. Quickly he disabled the lock and started forcing the door aside.
As soon as there was a big enough gap, Beka slipped under his arms and through. The Prime Minister of Ne'Holland was slumped against the far wall. The air was stale and used smelling. Beka knelt beside the elderly woman and checked her pulse; the woman's hands were ice cold.
"She's alive!" Beka gently shook the woman's shoulder. "Prime Minister. Prime Minister Prevor!"
The woman drew a sighing breath. Her eyelids fluttered before stilling again. Beka looked up at Tyr. He strode in and picked up the human. Beka wrapped her blanket around the elderly woman; tucking it around her so it wouldn't hamper Tyr's movements.
Once back in the hall, Beka could hear the basic ships functions coming online. There was the hiss of the air vents and a background hum of power. She went to the next cell.
"Severin." The Dragan was laid out as if asleep. She wasn't positive but she believed she could see the rise and fall of his chest. "I think he's still alive."
"I believe you are correct," Tyr said as he leaned against her back to look through the viewport with her.
"You know I don't think my association with Dylan has been a good thing. I can't believe I feel guilty for wanting a Niet dead." She turned to catch his raised eyebrows. He was so close she could feel his breath on her neck. "A Niet, not in general. I vote we leave him."
"I concur." He paused, their bodies still touching, then stepped away leaving her confused but able to breathe again.
They stepped to the next cell in unison. The little Ambassador Orgo sat cross-legged in the middle of his cell.
"He's a tough one," Beka said as Tyr opened the door. "Ambassador Orgo. It's Captain Valentine, acting first officer of the Andromeda Ascendant." Beka said as she pushed through the opening.
Orgo took a minute to respond as if coming out of deep sleep or torpor. Blinking his three eyes in unison, he turned and nodded to her. She was happy he understood. Orgo's species, Utgan, was a new addition to the Three Galaxies and the Ambassador's Commonwealth wasn't very good.
"Beka! Hurry! I hear movement."
Beka, disregarding any protocols, reached down and hauled the ambassador to his feet. Once in the hall, Tyr herded them aft using his memory of the ships schematic to find what he thought was a hanger bay.
Soon Orgo was walking on his own, albeit a little slowly, making Tyr terse when he barked directions. They reached a horizontally sectioned door. Beka studied it briefly before going to the clear panel on the left side. Behind it was a lever and on it was gibberish written in the alien language that was now rather familiar.
"What do you think? 'Break in case of emergency'?" She glanced back at him. When he wasn't forthcoming she broke it with the butt of her force-lance, then reached in and tugged the lever down. The doors parted.
Before them was a small hanger bay. On either side of the door was a row of supply crates and containers, and in the middle of it was a battle scarred Sabran fighter. At the end was the launch bay there was only a shimmer between them and the glowing grey nothing beyond.
"Well that's disappointing. Why couldn't it be a nicely decked out captain's skiff?" Beka said studyng the fighter. Suddenly something crawled up Beka's spine and she spun around levelling her lance at the door. "Tyr! Down!" She pushed Orgo into the cover of the crates.
Swinging around in time to see Tyr take a shot in the shoulder from behind. He staggered, off balanced by Madam Prevor, and returned fire. Beka caught a second group the enemy aiming at his back, raised her force-lance and launched a volley of effectors as she dove for Tyr's side sending the Nietzschean and his burden over some crates. She jumped in behind him launching a second swarm.
The effectors drove their attackers back. Beka made a quick inspection of Tyr's shoulder, as he sat up beside her. She wrinkled her nose at the charred flesh. "It's a bad burn."
"It seems, as I am still in possession of my shoulder, that either they are trying to recapture us or their weapons draw power from the ship as they do. If so it is a very poor design." Tyr rose up on his knees to check the enemy's location.
"Yah, well I'm not complaining." Beka made her own scan of the door. "Looks like they're holding their positions in the hall." She changed her settings and fired, picking off another attacker. "So, handsome, what do we do now?"
Tyr only paused for a nanosecond. "I will attempt to close the door. You cover me."
He was off using the crates as cover before she could protest. She spared only a glance at Orgo as he knelt calmly at Madam Prevor's side. Positioning herself, she launched a salvo of effectors before changing lance modes and picking off another individual. No fancy tricks without your power huh? She took aim again.
She followed along behind Tyr, pausing only to send volleys of effectors out into the corridor. She was managing to hold them back but Tyr would not have cover once he reached the door and she was running quickly out of ammo. She came up to where he was firing his gauss rifle around the last crate.
"Here." He handed her the rifle.
She slung it's over her shoulder bracing it on her right hip. With her force-lance in effector mode in her left hand, she stood and fired both weapons as Tyr made for the door's emergency overrides.
She managed to drive back any visible attackers from her oblique angle and pick off any that ventured through the door.
She saw the door start to close, and then it stopped. "I think they're controlling it from the other side."
She heard Tyr yell 'Beka. No!' as she ran further out into the open to pick off the alien near the door's main controls.
Got him. She thought as the door once again started to close. She dodged back for cover. Then fell as she took a shot to the thigh. She continued to fire as large hands drabbed her shoulders from behind and dragged her out of the open.
"Do not do that again!" Tyr growled.
"What?" She rolled into a sitting position to look at her leg.
"You could have been killed!" His face had that open look again, his wide eyes full of concern.
"Yah. Just another day at work Tyr. Ah," she winced as she pulled the singed leather away from the wound. "It's not even as bad as yours, so stuff it." She stood gritting her teeth and made her way back to the VIPs.
