Page 35 of Torn from the Alien Commander

“You never thought they might have been useful five minutes ago?” I ask incredulously, reaching to take the breathing masks.

Mod only shrugs, “You never ask. No?”

I waste no time reaching Hyanxa and giving her a mask, hoping she’ll recover before distributing the rest to the others. They all don their masks with ease, except for Quad, who frowns before attempting to place it atop his head, forcing me to adjust it over his mouth. Finally, I equip my mask, relishing the cleaner air devoid of the stinging, choking smoke that once clung to the back of the throat.

Feeling safer, I pass through the hazy fumes, marveling at the cramped tunnel-like hole Mod has created. The sheer thickness of the door astonishes me; it must be at least my height. Pools of melted arcweave have solidified around the entrance, making it slippery to transverse. I beckon the others over before stooping through the tunnel, eager to see what lies beyond.

With my rifle poised, I emerge into another long corridor similar to the previous one, but with rooms leading off at either end further down. Though my breathing is haggard through the mask and my nerves are heightened, I remain alert for any guards, prepared to do whatever’s necessary to save Xandor.

“All clear,” I announce, hearing Felixus coming to join me. The long corridor beckons, and my impatience compels me to move forward.

“Stop!” Felixus cries out, grasping me by my shirt and pulling me to the ground. I yell in shock, the jarring fall stinging my backside and shaking my senses. “This room’s equipped with laser matrices.”

“Lovely,” I declare, raising to rub the ache from my backside.What the void do we do now?The rest of the crew joins us, gazing with suspicion at the walls. I too scrutinize the surroundings, wondering if Felixus is mistaken, seeing no hint of any turrets or devices that could pose a danger—just solid gleaming metal walls.

“Watch this,” Felixus requests, throwing a small bolt down the corridor. I recoil as dozens of red lenses dotted throughout the walls, ceiling, and floor are revealed, each blasting the object with pinpoint accurate laser beams, snuffing it out of existence. Then, in a blink of an eye, they’re gone like they never existed. “Motion sensitive,” he adds during the stunned silence.

“Is there any way to turn it off?” I plead, turning to Felixus.

The Nebian lets out a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, the control center on the other side,” he gestures down the corridor.

“Void, we’re so close!” I lament, rubbing my mouth and racking my brain for an answer. “How about we snipe the lenses when they open?”

Felixus shakes his head. “No, too risky. It might set off the alarms. The only reason it hasn’t already is we turned it off because the bloody znats tripped it constantly.” He lets out a soft chuckle.

“I toss Tiniest?” Quad offers, scratching his head and pointing towards Felixus.

“You’ll do no such thing, you overgrown blockhead!” Felixus retorts, glaring down the corridor. “I’ll be shot to pieces unless you can throw me faster than the speed of light.”

Quad rubs his chin in thought before announcing the obvious. “Nope, sorry.”

Do we just risk my idea, the alarms be damned?

“I can run this.” Hyanxa declares, stepping forward, tying her long red hair into a tight knot.

“Run this?” I repeat, disbelief heavy in my tone, hoping she’s not implying what I think she is.

“Yeah, I’ve run gauntlet defenses before,” Hyanxa replies, her gaze shifting to a frown. “Never a laser one, though.” She turns to Job, “You got any junk on you?”

Job nods, pulling out a heaped handful of nuts and bolts.

“Good, that’s more than enough. Right, every time I shout,throw. I want you to toss a bolt down the corridor. Got it?”

Job blinks, his antennae drooping. “But you will expire. Yes?” His tone is surprisingly concerned.

“Not if you don’t screw up. Now throw!” she yells.

Job hesitates for a moment, then nods resolutely before tossing a bolt. The laser grid flares to life, beams blasting the object in a flash. Hyanxa’s eyes dart around the room, her gaze as focused as the lasers themselves. “Faster next time, Job. Any delay and I’ll be looking like a cratered moon.”

“I adjust. Yes?” Job states, straightening his posture, and pre-selecting from his heap of various nuts and bolts.

“Throw!” Hyanxa roars, and this time Job doesn’t hesitate, chucking an object down the corridor of crimson death. As the lenses reveal themselves, obliterating the tiny object, I watch Hyanxa as she mumbles numbers, her gaze shifting between the murderous devices.

This is voiding crazy. She’s going to die!

Chapter 12

Xandor

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