The escape from Dock 9 - a mediocre tale

Zoey is hardwired into the transport’s primary interface, wrists taut, fingers flashing across a storm of holographic locks. The final security barrier is still up, but the transport itself is answering her now.

At the ramp, Mara plants her feet and hammers a burst at the nearest sentry. Sparks scatter off durasteel as two more drones pivot toward her, their targeting lights skidding over the hangar floor.

Zoey rips through the last layer of access control and forces the ramp seal to cycle. The transport shudders, its boarding lights flipping from red to pale green.

A sentry clips the ramp railing, and Mara staggers back half a step, still keeping the lane clear. The transport’s side hatch unlocks with a harsh metallic snap.

Zoey yanks free from the interface, the opened hatch directly ahead of her, the only clean route out before the security grid locks the hangar shut again.

As the transport hatch hisses open, a discarded blaster from a downed sentry skitters across the deck, coming to a rest near Zoey's boots.

Zoey snatches the blaster up from the deck and fires on instinct. The shot snaps wide, scorching the hatch frame and blowing sparks across the boarding lights.

The sentry drones jink apart, their optics swinging toward the muzzle flash. One drops lower, one slides right, and the clean lane to the ramp starts to vanish.

Zoey adjusts fast, but the blaster kicks in her hands and the next burst tags only the deck. A ricochet tears a glowing groove past the side hatch, right under the green boarding strip.

Mara flinches at the ramp, keeping the data-pad tucked tight as the nearest drone angles for her flank. The transport hatch stays open, but the drones are now between Zoey and the cleanest path aboard.

Then the hangar wall panel beside the ramp flickers, revealing a maintenance overlay for the transport. A narrow service line flashes on, linking the side hatch to a blind access seam under the cargo lip.

The blaster hums hot in Zoey's grip as the drones re-center on her position, and the maintenance hatch alarm keeps chirping somewhere behind the transport. The opening is there now, but only for a fast choice.

Zoey swings the blaster up and squeezes off a tighter burst. The shot clips one drone hard enough to spin it off line, but not hard enough to drop it.

The second drone compensates instantly, its turret iris narrowing on her muzzle. Red targeting light washes over the hatch frame and climbs toward her hands.

Zoey fires again, and the blaster coughs a weak bolt that slams into the boarding strip. The maintenance overlay flickers, then starts dimming under the strain.

Mara hunches lower at the ramp, data-pad pinned to her chest, as the nearest drone sweeps past Zoey and cuts straight toward her lane instead.

The side hatch stays open for one breath longer, then the transport's boarding lights stutter amber. Somewhere in the frame, the maintenance hatch alarm keeps chirping as the clean path aboard starts to seal.

Zoey plants her feet, sights down the salvaged blaster, and sends a clean shot into the nearest sentry’s joint cluster. The drone jerks sideways, its aim collapsing in a spray of sparks.

The second sentry tries to compensate, but Zoey is already moving. She snaps another bolt across its sensor pod, and the machine whips around blind, skidding into the hangar deck.

Mara straightens at the ramp, eyes wide, data-pad still clutched to her chest. The pressure on the boarding lane breaks, just enough for the transport’s side hatch to stutter wider.

The boarding lights flick from amber to steady white for a heartbeat, then the hatch motor grinds again. The maintenance alarm keeps chirping from the wall seam, sharp and impatient.

Zoey has the lane clear, but the transport is still deciding whether to stay open or seal shut around them.

Zoey leans into the open hatch seam and drives her deck through the transport’s local spine. The screen blooms with access trees, then spits back red denial after red denial.

She reroutes around the first lock, but the override handshake collapses. Inside the transport, relays chatter and the side hatch shudders half an inch wider, then catches.

A warning strip on the frame snaps from white to hard red. The maintenance alarm keeps chirping from the wall seam, and the boarding ramp begins to hesitate with a final, ugly grind.

Zoey forces one last command through, but the system rejects her authorization and seals the path on a dead cycle. The hatch locks at a narrow gap, too small for boarding, too open to ignore.

Zoey’s deck catches the transport’s core routing and forces a clean handshake. The red warning on the hatch frame blinks once, then steadies into a controlled amber. Inside, the relays quiet to a lower, ready hum.

The side hatch slides its remaining inches with a smooth mechanical sigh and locks open wide enough to board. The maintenance alarm still chirps behind her, but the transport’s own systems stop fighting her.

Mara shifts from the ramp to the threshold, data-pad clutched tight, scanning the hangar while the blind sentry drifts uselessly below. The damaged drone stays skewed off line near the floor markings.

A fresh status strip flashes across Zoey’s deck, showing departure clearance and a short fueling delay canceling into nothing. The transport is ready, but the ramp remains exposed to the hangar lights and the alarm still shrieks from the wall seam.

Zoey slips through the open hatch and into the cockpit in one clean motion, boots hitting the deck with barely a sound.

Her hands settle on the pilot controls. The seat takes her weight, the amber status lights painting the console across her knuckles.

Mara reaches the threshold, data-pad tight to her chest, and glances past Zoey toward the hangar lights and the drifting drones below.

Outside, the maintenance hatch keeps chirping and the transport’s ready-state amber holds steady, but the ramp is still exposed to the open hangar.