Chapter 23

"Sir, there's been some type of disturbance in the brig."

Commander Venka looked down to the crewmember who had addressed him. "What happened?"

"Someone set off the silent alarm. It was shut off a few seconds later, but I haven't been able to raise the security officer on duty. I think it might have something to do with the fire in the hangar, but I can't be sure."

"Damn," he swore. "Okay, continue with the hangar depressurization and dispatch a squad to investigate the brig. Recall the rest of the stormtroopers to the bridge."

"Sir?"

"You heard me. I want all available security relocated to the bridge."

The crewman nodded and turned back to his station to execute the orders.

Venka folded his arms across his chest and faced back toward the bridge viewport.

The hangar fire and the brig alarm couldn't be isolated events. That much he was sure of. He could have brushed them off as coincidence, but he hadn't gotten this far into his career by not listening to his instincts. If he had to bet, Raan had something to do with it, but how he could orchestrate anything out of that cell of his was a mystery to him. Either way, Venka wasn't going to take any chances.

A sudden rumbling cut off any more musings. Venka opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on when the ship shuddered and then erupted into violent tremors. The floor beneath him trembled like a seizuring mental patient, and the ship began to list toward the port side. Venka pitched forward as he lost his balance and hit the deck hard. The glow panels above winked out of existence only to be replaced a second later by red emergency lights, bathing the bridge in a grisly crimson glow.

He lay on the floor a moment, looking around in dazed stupefaction. One of bridge consoles sparked briefly, illuminating the motionless form sprawled on the ground before it. An acrid smell permeated the room, as did a chorus of groans from the surviving bridge crew.

"Damn it, what happened?" Venka shouted as he began to pick himself up off the floor.

One of the crewmen hauled himself back into his seat, hurriedly tapping out commands at his computer. "Shit," he swore, his fear getting the better of protocol.

"What is it?" Venka asked, making his way over to him.

"The hangar is gone."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's gone sir! It's not there anymore. Something must have touched off the fuel reserves, because the explosion totally demolished it. If we hadn't depressurized the bay when we did, the whole ship would have gone up." He paused, punching a few more keys. "We're slowly venting atmosphere, and our orbit around Belsavis is beginning to decaying. Artificial gravity on decks five and six is about shot too."

"Propulsion?"

"The hyperdrive seems to be alright, but sublight is at fifteen percent. It won't be enough to break orbit, and we can't jump to light speed this close to the planet. It would tear the ship apart." The crewman looked to Venka gravely. "We're going down, sir."


Tilyer loosened his grasp on the security console as the tremors subsided. He looked to Lieutenant Del'Goren with a bewildered look as the red emergency lighting kicked in. "What the hell did you just do?"

Del'Goren shrugged, "I left a little surprise back in the hangar."

"Could have at least told us to hold onto something," Linia quipped as she picked herself up off the floor.

Del'Goren ignored her. "Lets get moving. Venka should have enough to worry about with the ship, but we still need get out of here before someone comes looking for us." He turned and headed out the door and down the hallway.

Tilyer and Linia moved to follow but stopped as the turbolift at the end of the corridor slid open.

"Get back!" Del'Goren shouted as he turned and fled back down the hallway.

Tilyer briefly wondered what was going on before he caught sight of the four white armored figures standing within the lift. He grabbed Linia's arm, jerking her back toward the brig foyer as blaster fire erupted through the hallway. Linia and Tilyer managed to get behind the security console as Del'Goren dove through the doorway and rolled to the side. The stormtroopers' armored footfalls could be heard pounding down the hallway.

Tilyer grimaced and rose over the console, braving the barrage of laser fire to snap off a pair of shots into the hallway at the approaching troopers. Luckily for him, the close confines didn't offer them much room to maneuver, and one of his shots hit home. The blaster splashed over the lead trooper's breast plate, leaving a black scorch mark as the soldier collapsed to the ground. The man behind him crouched protectively over his fellow trooper and returned fire, forcing Tilyer back down behind the security station.

"You got any more of those detonators?" Linia called out, leaning around the console to snap off a quit shot before retreating back.

"Keep them busy," Del'Goren shouted, digging into one of the pockets on his uniform.

Tilyer and Linia exchanged doubtful looks, but dutifully raised up over the console and triggered a salvo of blaster fire into the hallway. It wasn't terribly accurate, but the barrage caught the advancing troopers by surprise, forcing them to retreat back toward the turbolift and the relative cover it provided. Even as Tilyer and Linia ducked down again, Del'Goren was moving. He leaned around the corner and threw a black sphere down the hallway. The object bounced and skittered along the floor and into the turbolift. The lieutenant retreated back, covering his eyes with one arm. Then the grenade went off with a muffled bang, not nearly the result Tilyer had been expecting. As he chanced a peek into the corridor, he could stormtroopers reeling, hands pressed against their eyes.

Del'Goren wasted no time. He was up on his feet and down the hallway in a matter of seconds, mercilessly pumping fire into the turbolift car. By the time Tilyer and Linia caught up with him, all four troopers lay unmoving on the deck. Del'Goren knelt by one of the bodies, rifling through the dead man's utility belt.

Tilyer slowly walked up to him with mouth agape, hardly knowing what to say.

The dark-skinned pilot looked up at the two of them as they approached. "Get a blaster rifle—both of you. You'll need the extra firepower. You're going to be on your own from here on out."

Tilyer frowned, "You're not coming with us?"

"No," he said simply.

"But what about you?" Tilyer protested, "We can't just leave you here."

"I'll find my own way out. You two just get yourselves to an escape pod." Del'Goren stood, hefting a blaster rifle to his shoulder. "I've got a score to settle."


"Sir!"

Commander Venka turned away from the storm troopers he assembled stormtroopers and looked to the crewman who had addressed him. "What?"

"Sir, the squad you dispatched has made contact with the prisoners."

"And?"

The crewman paused, listening intently to his commlink. "I don't know, sir. I've lost contact with them."

Venka swore under his breath.

"Sir," another crewman interjected, "Our orbit is starting to decay faster. We have just under and hour before the ship begins to penetrate the planet's upper atmosphere. If we wait much longer to evacuate, there isn't going to be another chance."

Venka paused indecisively. "Fine," he finally growled, "Issue the order." He gestured to the assembled troopers, "All of you, follow me."

"Where are you going, Sir?" the bridge crewman asked.

Venka checked the charge on his blaster pistol and shoved it back into the holster. "I'm going to find Raan and Taulin. I'm not leaving this ship until I know for sure they are dead."