Page 12 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol 2
“You’re right,” Vlad says. “They’ll have to manage without us for once. Let’s go.”
We head for the command center, alert for signs of further damage. We don’t even know where the explosion originated. Every sound, every creak in the walls, makes my hand inch closer to my weapon.
When we reach the command room, we find the entry system dead. The door, which should dematerialize as we approach, stays stubbornly shut.
Vlad, never the patient type, pounds on it with both fists.
“Dammit! They’re locked inside!”
“Not necessarily. Remember, all doors like this have manual overrides. We just have to find the emergency panel.”
“Yeah, great—on a perfectly smooth wall. That’ll be fun.”
We run our hands along the exterior, frustration mounting—until suddenly, a section of the wall vanishes.
Standing in its place is a tall, blonde woman, looking annoyed and armed.
“Whoa. Hi there, gorgeous,” Vlad says with his trademark grin. “Guessing you triggered the manual override from inside?”
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” she snaps, raising her pistoblaster and aiming it squarely at his chest.
“Easy there, stun-gun Barbie,” Vlad says, hands up. “We’re the good guys. Promise. Would be very grateful if you didn’t vaporize me.”
“I’ll ask one more time: who are you and what’s your purpose here?”
She’s Human, like us—but clearly not buying Vlad’s charm. Not that I blame her. Now is not the time for flirting, especially with a saboteur loose on the station.
“Agents Vlad and Ayden, Special Unit, Intergalactic Confederation,” I say evenly. “We’re investigating the recent sabotage events.”
“Oh, well done,” she says dryly. “Because clearly, things are going great around here. Come on in. Try not to break anything else.”
Vlad smirks as we follow her inside.
“Well hey, at least this time we’re not the ones causing the explosion,” he whispers.
The blonde rolls her eyes hard enough to create wind.
“Wonderful. Comedians. Just what we needed,” she mutters. “Follow me. Try not to blow anything up.”
We step into the command center with a blaster still aimed at us. I’ve had warmer welcomes.
“Administrator? I found these two trying to force their way in,” the blonde announces, voice colder than the station walls.
“Ah—Ayden! And, Logan?” asks Administrator Akura, stepping forward.
“Vlad, actually,at your service!” my friend corrects, shooting a suggestive look at the woman he was trying to charm.
Even with the tension in the room, I have to smile. Classic Vlad—flirting in the middle of a crisis. Honestly? Can’t blame him. Most of us are in our early twenties, bouncing around the frozen vacuum of space for most of the year. When you cross paths with an actual living, breathing human—especially one who doesn’t immediately shoot you—you make the most of it.
“It’s fine, Melissa,” Akura says, waving her off. “They’re here on my request. And you’re just in time. Come, let me bring you up to speed.”
Vlad shifts back to business mode and joins us at the console.
“The AI registered an explosion of unknown origin in Sector 6. Protocol requires keeping the main systems offline until we identify and control the cause. I’ve reactivated command functions here and in the medical wing only.”
“Any idea what damage we’re looking at?” I ask.
“No. We won’t know until we reach the site. What we do know is that it originated just past the northern quarters—Sector 7 and beyond.”
