Page 16 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol 2
“Locked and loaded,” Vlad nods.
“Melissa, we’re entering Sector 6 now,” I call through the comm.
“Copy. Be careful.”
We unlock the second door and step into the damage zone.
The corridor is pitch dark, except for the dim emergency glow. Debris everywhere—chunks of composite, shredded panels, cables snaking across the floor.
“Well... this isn’t exactly a walk in the park,” Vlad mutters, sweeping his headlamp across the wreckage.
We move carefully, masks filtering the stale, smoky air.
The first door on the right creaks open—what’s left of it.
The room beyond? A mess. Ceiling panels collapsed. Sparks dancing from exposed wires. Walls scorched black.
“Looks like this room took the brunt of the blast,” I say, scanning with my handheld.
“Yeah, burn marks everywhere,” Vlad confirms, his voice tight.
We press on.
Second door. Bigger room.
Inside—overturned tables, shattered equipment... and eight bodies.
We freeze.
Vlad and I split up, scanners out, checking vitals.
“Dead,” I say.
“Same here,” he replies. “It’s like someone wanted this to look like a bomb went off.”
“Honestly, that might be exactly what it was,” I mutter. “Sabotage or not—same result.”
Oscar’s standing still. Silent. Staring at one of the bodies.
“Oscar?” I ask, gently.
He doesn’t look away. “I knew him... his name was Neal,” he says, voice cracking.
“I’m sorry,” I offer.
“Doesn’t matter now. We’ve still got work to do—people to save. Mourning can wait.” His face is pale but focused. That’s strength. The quiet kind.
Last door.
Same destruction. Four more victims.
“No survivors,” Vlad sighs. “We need to find the backup generator fast and move on to the next zone.”
“We need to be sure the outer walls aren’t compromised first,” Oscar warns. “Restoring pressure without checking could be lethal.”
The inspection takes time—too much time—but it’s necessary.
We scan the walls, every inch, every seam. Three small cracks show up on the readout. Minor, but they could kill us if left alone.
