“Beatrix, Reaver,” I ordered, “guard here.” I pointed to the door the guards had come through. “Skrew, drag one of those mechs over to the breach. Jam as much of it as you can into that hole. I don’t want anyone sneaking in behind us.”
Skrew clapped his huge hands together and rumbled away to accomplish his task.
“Looks clear,” Reaver said. “But it’s too clear. All those guards, and no secondary defenses?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Beatrix whispered, peeking around the doorway from the opposite side. “There is more to this than we can see.”
I agreed, but before we advanced forward, I wanted two things to happen. First, the Ish-Nul needed a short breather. They’d fought hard, but they weren’t Void-touched like me. I’d barely broken a sweat.
Second, I needed to confirm my suspicion, and Skrew had helped with that. I hadn’t noticed any tech attached to the bodies of the vrak guards who’d attacked us, so I suspected their implants were internal. Skrew had stomped enough of them that finding the tech would be easier.
The devices were small enough to not quite cover my thumbnail. The circuitry was intricate and smooth. It wasn’t the standard slave-tech I’d seen before. It was high-quality stuff. We’d just killed nearly 100 vrak slaves, very few of whom I suspected would have fought us of their own accord. They had no choice. They weren’t courageous; they were mind-controlled slaves. I crushed the tech and scattered the pieces on the floor.
“I’m coming for you, asshole,” I whispered to the room. “And death comes with me.”
Chapter Ten
With the immediate threat neutralized, I motioned for Reaver to back away from the doorway so that I could take her place. I watched with approval as she began gathering weapons from the dead guards and handed them out to those on our team who didn’t have one. The extra firepower would give us a huge advantage for our next fight—a fight I had no doubt would be coming soon.
The room beyond was small and looked more like an antechamber. It was about fifteen feet wide and deep with a ceiling much lower than the garage’s. I leaned into the room a little and found that both the left and right sides were furnished with ornately crafted wooden chairs of at least six different styles. Each was fitted with cushions attached to different parts of the chairs, and some looked impossible to use. Probably to accommodate all kinds of alien species, I thought.
The center chair on each wall had been knocked over and crushed by dozens of pairs of stomping feet. Beyond them, through a narrow doorway, I could see what was obviously a holding cell, clearly where the mind-controlled guards had come from. Judging by the precise doorway and matching door, it was unlikely any visiting dignitaries were ever aware that the door was there. When closed, the door was probably invisible from the anteroom. It was a decent defense system. Layered security always worked better than a single theoretically unbreachable wall.
On the far wall was another doorway, the same size as the one I used when I carefully walked into the room. It was different, though, as it was ornately carved with images of what looked like exotic alien flowers. It had been painted a rich green. The carvings were gold. The real purpose of the room was clear. It was insulation from the outside world by people who didn’t want to believe it existed. I suspected that unless the outside door was closed, the inside would refuse to open. I also suspected that anyone inside who wasn’t military or a guard would have no idea as to what just happened. They’d be insulated from Tortengar’s poor choices.
There was a gold-framed square button to the left of the door. When I pressed it, a soft, high-pitched bell sounded somewhere. I pressed it again and got the same result.
“Why does it not open?” Beatrix asked.
“It’s a noise barrier,” I said. “The bell is to let us know it can’t open until the outside door is closed. Whatever’s immediately inside seems to be important enough that Tortengar doesn’t want it disturbed. A laboratory, maybe. Or formal chambers for a welcoming ceremony. Either way, we’ll need to get everyone inside and close the door behind us before we can continue forward.”
“We will not all fit,” Beatrix said, glancing at the mech.
“Agreed,” I answered. “Get everyone in here, except for Skrew. Someone will need to stay with him and help him with the button so that he doesn't destroy it when he comes in after us. We might need this working if we want to get out.”
She nodded, conveyed the message, and returned with the others a few moments later.
Nyna and Timo-Ran had decided to stay back with Skrew so that the priestess could start checking his systems. He’d taken a lot of damage, and she was worried about his mech’s ability to go on. The short time it would take us to assess and enter the next room would be enough time for her to accomplish that.
I agreed—we needed Skrew. His minigun was out of ammunition, but he was still a huge, hulking, guard-smashing war machine. The longer we could keep his mech working, the better off the team would be.
I was standing to the left of the doorway, close to but not touching the wall. I didn’t want to accidentally bump the wall and let anyone on the other side know exactly where I was. Reaver took her position behind me, rifle in hand.
I nodded, and Beatrix pressed the button on the far wall. The door slid shut behind her, and she moved off to one side, out of the line of direct fire if there were guards waiting for us on the other side.
After I received a nod from each of the others
