Lab rats

Aricia moved as fast as she could after Yril’k’s form. The insectoid woman was doing that thing she did where the floor, walls and even at one point roof of the passage became a surface to step on, which was admittedly handy when a camera started rotating and the Vex’ess’s blade arm sliced through several of its cables before Aricia even noticed it was a threat.

The corridors themselves were oppressive, and she found herself struggling as they moved on. It wasn’t identical to the Fractal facility she’d been imprisoned in, and she’d been out cold for most of the time she’d been held, but even so the hints of Fractal mass merged with the walls put the Lieviran’s nerves on high alert as they moved deeper into the facility.

Moving through another doorway, they arrived in the weapons lab, the passage opening out into a balcony above a massive array of terminals, machining stations and practice ranges all sitting alongside row after row of desks. It was a jackpot for Aricia’s mission - but unfortunately it also meant that their luck at avoiding any of the base’s inhabitants had finally run out. Scientists looked up from their workstations, before one dove for an alarm on the wall. Aricia ran her gaze over the schematic drawings, prototypes and models as quickly as she dared, hoping her helmet camera would get most of the information despite the distance as Yril’k sprang forward.

Dustin and Macch had been quite clear about that part, on encountering any staff they were to treat them as hostile on sight. The Durathisians had a clear policy of only allowing members of the military to staff their research facilities so while the men and women in the room were scientists, they were also trained combatants, a fact that became all too apparent as the bounding Vex’ess ducked under the beam coming from a half-assembled weapon. A hiss of scorched metal rang out from where the beam struck the roof overhead, while Aricia dove for cover from a hail of small arms fire as the remaining Durathisians went for their sidearms.

Given the comparative lack of ranged weapons on her side, Aricia fumbled briefly with one of the smoke cannisters on her belt as she hid behind a desk. Tossing it out, she ducked her head down and pulled her wings in tight. Above her, Yril’k’s blade arms flashed as the room filled with smoke, the insectoid woman turning the lab into a terrifying nightmare of rapidly moving biological blades and the bright pulses of gunfire as she moved.

The smoke took on a blood-coloured tinge as the base’s lighting shifted into an alert, the red light refracting through the chamber while the Vex’ess continued her work. A couple of the scientists managed to flee with a security door sealing behind them, and at last Yril’k remained standing alone, panting slightly from her efforts. “Are’k you unharmed’k, Aricia?” she asked, bending to offer her companion a hand up while the room’s ventilation finally began to clear the thick smoke their grenade had released.

Aricia dusted herself off and nodded. “Yes. They were surprised and not very good shots - you watch the door, I’m going to grab pictures of everything I can.” Pausing to pull one of the modified tablets from her suit pocket, she gestured with it towards one of the more intact of Yril’k’s victims while clearly trying to remain stoic in the face of all the bloodshed and added “…we should try and grab that laser weapon thingy they used at the start of the fight for Rye to dismantle; the beam was sustained far longer than I thought a handheld device could manage, she’ll want to look at how they achieved that.”

Reaching the brig had been easier than either Macch or Linth had expected. In hindsight, given every security camera in the place appeared to have been kitted out with a remotely controlled weapon, and the fact that the brig was a long way from any of the interesting parts of the facility that shouldn’t have really surprised them, but even so… They were pretty sure whatever lay on the far side of the heavy security door in front of them would include armed guards, so were being cautious.

“Don’t want to burn out the lock until the alarm goes,” Macch muttered to himself as he carefully arranged a few of his acid charges into position and pulled a detonator from yet another of the pouches that covered his outfit. “We’re gonna do this like the jailbreak back on Moxis-53, okay Linnie?”

Linth grimaced. “I got shot on ‘53, Macch. Can we try doing it in a way that doesn’t get me shot again?”

Macch shrugged. “Try and be a smaller target…” the lights began to flash red around them and an alarm sounded from back the way they’d come “…ah whatever, there’s our distraction.” He thumbed the detonator.

Moments later, Linth kicked the door in, the lack of a lock causing it to move much faster than the occupant of the guard station on the far side (who’d been moving to check what led to all the noise and smoke) had been expecting. As the Durathisian flew backwards before slamming into the ground unconscious, the two spies moved through and into the room beyond.

Macch drew his sidearm - an elegant, silenced thing, and proceeded to drop the two other security guards where they sat. This group of guards appeared to have been playing some kind of card game at a small table close to the monitoring station for the security cameras, but had clearly not been paying attention. “Amateurs” the spy muttered as he took in the number of camera feeds that were currently showing static. “Half their security goes down thanks to our friends and they didn’t even go on alert. Must have been one hell of a game.”

Linth meanwhile had passed him to the next door, stooping to retrieve a keycard from the unconscious jailor as he went by. Pushing the door open, he moved along the line of empty cages beyond, before pausing at one that contained a battered looking Durathisian woman. “You know Jilana?” he grunted, grinning when the woman’s eyes snapped up with a look of concern on her face. “She said to say that drinks at sunset are good,” he ventured, already pretty sure of the captive’s identity.

The woman blinked, before shakily rising to her feet. “But breakfast with friends is better,” she replied hesitantly, then glanced at the open door. “You’re friends of the resistance?”

Linth nodded, slotting the keycard into the lock on the cell. “Yup. We’ve got to move though - some of our other friends have kicked the hornet’s nest and we’re on the clock. Can you walk okay?”

Defia stared at the floating morass of Fractal matter hanging in the vat. “Statement. This should not be possible. This is… error.”

Dustin glanced from his synthetic love to the vat and back again before turning to face the doors in the flickering light of the alert. “What is it, Defia? What’s gotten you so stressed out - we knew they were producing Fractal mass somewhere in order to use it in their hulls… and I guess in building this facility.”

The rogue Fractal shook her head. “Statement. This is not… We do not have time to discuss this currently. Please wait while I obtain samples of this material and the finished product.” She turned from the vat, rummaging through cabinets until she found a set of sturdy containers, clearly designed to be used to transport the results of whatever production operation was ongoing.

Behind the vats, long pipes connected to a machine of some description on one side of the room. Defia paused in front of it, tapped the controls experimentally, then slotted one of the containers into a opening on the side. As the machine whirred away, she walked back to the tube where Dustin was waiting and frowned. “Statement. A finished sample will soon be obtained. I will also require a sample of the production unit. Please hold the entrances until I am finished.”

Dustin nodded, levying his carbine at the far doorway ready to light up any Durathisian who might intrude on his lover’s work.

The first attack came just before the refining machine finished whatever processing it was doing. As Defia returned to the device to retrieve the filled container, a pair of security guards darted through the door - and into Dustin’s firing range. Flashes from his carbine lit up the room in stark contrast to the eerie glow of the tanks and the dull red pulses of the alarm, catching the first of the guards full in the chest. The other dived for cover by the machine where Defia was working. Without breaking her concentration, one hand flicked out to the side, forming a spike that caught the guard in mid leap before withdrawing to let him continue to tumble to the floor.

“Statement. One container secured. The other will take a moment longer, I am having to reset several safeties and lockouts.” The void-black woman’s non-weaponized hand had almost entirely engulfed the controls for the machinery, and a series of worrying clanks and hisses began to come from the vats. A panel at the bottom of the one she’d shown the most interest in suddenly blew off in a cloud of pressurized nutrient solution, the liquid draining rapidly as the rogue Fractal released her grasp on the machine and ran back, adjusting the lid on the second container as she went.

While Defia endeavoured to collect… whatever it was she was collecting, Dustin turned back to the door. His love had asked him to buy her time - and he was going to do so.