Let's blow this popsicle stand

[tunafish.livejournal.com]

15 minutes had passed since the negotiations had started. The rogue army of Gladsheim, a planet nestled in the middle-eastern belt, had organized a meeting with the circle to settle their debt. The army, to escape the invading eye of the galactic union, had been ordering military equipment from circle seven. Gladsheim’s supply had recently come to a stop, however, the planet was lacking necessary funds – and being a planet low on natural resources, had nothing to trade. Already in debt to this spacebound mafia, Gladsheim had arrived for a meeting aboard the organizations flagship. They had neglected to mention to the organization that they had no intention of paying off their debt.

The first of the explosions went off only seconds after the 15 minute mark. With it, the entire route of security cameras within a 60-foot radius of the north hangar. The alarm for a security breach was immediately triggered, red lights and sirens erupting all across the ship. Guards that attempted to infiltrate the hangar immediately only served to make the situation worse for the circle. The explosion had opened crevices in the ships outer shell, allowing contact with the outside. Any persons caught out on the deck without the necessary gear combusted almost instantaneously, and what’s worse, the ships emergency prevention system reacted by sealing all routes to the hangar.

“We should be approaching the storage vault we’re look for on quadrants E23, 54. Ready your guns and be wary of explosives. The hallways narrow out ahead. Keep your gliders on course.” The voice of young man resonates through a flock of small glider ships. He leads the cluster of ships, piloting the foremost glider through the ruins of the explosion.

Comments

[loadsavepoint.livejournal.com]

"Not bad, Verse," the voice came over the intercom of Vercelli's ship, coated with a condescending note as always. The kid was dependable for this sort of thing, though - destruction, that was. Sometimes it was called for, especially when dealing with a brute force like their own. Joel pulled his helmet over his head, fastening the seal around his neck, pressing a button over what would be the ear. "Heading out now. Hangar is clear for landing. Move out!"

The docked ship's left flank opened, and the commander gave the signal, about a dozen men pouring out. They didn't have the longest amount of time, losing air and pressure alike, despite the proper suiting. With the hangar quickly becoming cut off from the rest of the base, it was possible they'd even lose the artificial gravity as well. Joel prided himself on that bit of careful calculation, making sure they had just enough power to grab what they needed and get out, at the very least.

"Better hurry it up, tootsie. You'll probably have company out there pretty quick."