Page 64 of Star Claimed Omega
‘I know,’ he bit out. ‘Atmosphere, pressure, all of it.’
‘Ship protocol restricts this exact kind of action.’
‘Override it. I want them gasping in the void and sucking ice shards.’
She hesitated. Then: ‘Acknowledged. You have control.’
Santi’s hand was already sliding to the helm, fingers poised above the burnished titanium of the emergency lockdown mechanism.
He glanced up and saw one of the last masked bastards lunging at him, knife gleaming.
‘You’re about to be free as a bird,papi,’ Santi rasped.
He slammed down on the trigger.
The synth glass wall of the bridge, five meters high, curved like a cathedral dome, detached with a booming crack, and was flung through space.
All critical shields failed, as designed under Santi’s override.
A howling void replaced the internal atmosphere.
The Sombra’sintruders staggered, their mask re-breathers overloaded by the sudden shift in density. One dropped to his knees, gagging.
Another began firing with wild abandon.
As the fog thickened and the pressure built, the enemies were unable to withstand the suction of the great expanse.
With a whoosh, the assailants flew.
They got yanked backward in a savage surge of decompression, tumbling like rag dolls into the black.
Three of them had yet to secure their oxygen respirators.
They didn’t scream; they didn’t have time.
Their bodies froze mid-arc, all fluids in their skin and lungs crystallizing in seconds, pupils dilating into glassy spheres, mouths twisted in eternal O’s.
Flesh turned blue, then ashen-white. They drifted like macabre statues, transformed to instant stalactites in the airless abyss.
The others, those who had masks, weren’t any better off.
Unprepared for the sudden pressure loss, they convulsed, eyes bursting with blood vessels, ears rupturing behind their visors.
They kicked and writhed in panic, flailing, trying to stabilize, but zero-G showed no mercy. Helmets fogged from their internal screaming.
One fired a round from his plasma pistol, which vaporized into harmless mist, sucked out into the emptiness beyond.
Santi eyed thekinaisfrom his crouch beside the helm.
His pack clung to the bridge’s rails, used their aetheric powers to withstand the void of space, and remained anchored.
He tapped into his neural node, mouth twisting.
Miral, close the breach.
She acknowledged.Re-engaging the shields.
With a shuddering whoomph, the backup synth glass rolled down like a guillotine made of light.
