Escape Through the Service Ducts

The bridge air grows thick with ozone. Nahuli spots a maintenance hatch behind the primary navigation console, its seal glowing amber. He kicks a fallen control panel, causing it to slide across the slick deck plating, creating a distraction for the recovering crew.

He lunges for the hatch, his cybernetic arm humming as he pries the stubborn locking mechanism. Behind him, the sound of boots scraping against metal echoes. Captain Kaelen is rising, hand reaching for a concealed pulse-pistol. Nahuli heaves the hatch open, revealing the dark, cramped service duct leading toward the ship's exterior observation deck.

He vaults into the dark, his slim frame vanishing into the cramped shaft just as a bolt of blue energy scorches the air where his head had been. He slides down the narrow, vertical chute, metal walls blurring past until he slams into a secondary bulkhead deep within the belly of the ship.

Nahuli expertly kicks off the bulkhead, his powerful legs propelling him upward with practiced ease. He catches the overhead maintenance ladder, pulling his lithe frame into the high shadows of the ceiling structure. From this perch, he stares down at the service passage. Through the gap in the floor plates below, he sees Captain Kaelen stumbling into the room, his eyes scanning the darkness with frantic intensity. The pulse-pistol is still gripped tightly in the Captain's trembling hand.

Nahuli taps his multi-tool against the bulkhead. A sharp burst of localized interference erupts from the ceiling, slamming into the emitter coils of the Captain's pulse-pistol. The weapon vibrates violently, glowing cherry-red as the safety interlock melts.

The device sparks and falls from his grip, clattering loudly against the deck plates. Captain Kaelen recoils, clutching his stinging palm and stumbling back into the open center of the passage.

The hangar bay access is just ahead, but the Captain is currently blocking the primary path.

Nahuli pulses a rapid override sequence into the service duct wall panel. A melodic, low-frequency chime rings out as the ship’s internal alarm system flickers from red to a steady, muted blue. The imminent lockdown sequence halts, and the heavy security bulkheads grind to a shivering stop, leaving the path to the hangar wide open.

The Captain stares at the flickering lights, his focus drifting toward the control console rather than the ventilation grate above. He looks confused, his hand still throbbing from the electrical discharge. He turns his back, intent on resetting the local terminal manually. Nahuli readies himself to drop from the rafters, his landing calculated to bring him silently behind the distracted officer.