05-24-2014, 06:16 PM
Luckily, Reed didn't need to break much of a sweat to successfully traverse the tunnels. Most of them were abandoned already, and anyone that might have alerted the rebels to their presence were likely following the main group back to surface level. It was a dangerous risk she was taking, leaving Trano in Knights' hands, but one that she knew, logically, to be necessary.
The rifle served her well to jam the group in the stairwell, but she had no need to fire since. The noise would echo, and anyone in four hundred meters were likely to hear it. She wished for the ax, that between blade and handle, she could heft, slice, and smash her way through barriers when necessary. It sat in the Fortress and did her little good down here.
Thus, she was pressed to the wall alongside the entrance to maintenance corridors. She'd disabled her flashlight already, leaving her hidden in pitch black. The lack of ventilation added weight to the air, and she rubbed a bead of sweat from where it dripped along her temple. She held her breath and listened. There was something... She edged forward, ever so slowly.
Her foot hit something soft. She flipped the beam of light on, and a red-eyed rat scuttled from the sudden glow. "Fucker,"
she said to herself and relaxed while it darted into the distant darkness.
She let herself into the maintenance room. All dark but for the alien glow of backup fuel cells ready for activation.
That glow was gone by the time she strolled out of there, sweating a little bit more, and the tip of a finger throbbing from slicing it on the steel casings. There was one more station to visit down here. Then to the roof she would go.
***
It took about thirty minutes to find the second station, disable the fuel cells, and climb safely to the roof. The under tunnels were easy enough to dart along, and she never came into contact with sight nor sound of rebel presence but for the distant pounding of feet. The groups making such noise were likely far; cement and steel warped echoes incomprehensible.
She had to climb through a baggage routing system, with their conveyor belts, cranes and carts to make her way to a facilities ladder leading to the roof. It was like crawling through a staggering steel highway; luggage waited likely to be forgotten for weeks while this shit blew over.
She was running along the steel grates of a catwalk when sparks suddenly flew around her feet. The sound of the gunfire registered a moment later.
She leaped onto the adjacent convoy across a two-foot spanned freefall. When she rolled back to her feet, the rifle was in her own hands and her flashlight turned off. The orbs of light surrounding those that fired first were a perfect sight, and she shot three white-clad men before they even knew where she'd went.
Satisfied that was her only delay. Them and the rat, she clicked on her light, and navigated her way through a series of wheeled metal carts, flinging them backward as she went.
None too soon, she was throwing open the hatch and crawling onto the roof.
The rifle served her well to jam the group in the stairwell, but she had no need to fire since. The noise would echo, and anyone in four hundred meters were likely to hear it. She wished for the ax, that between blade and handle, she could heft, slice, and smash her way through barriers when necessary. It sat in the Fortress and did her little good down here.
Thus, she was pressed to the wall alongside the entrance to maintenance corridors. She'd disabled her flashlight already, leaving her hidden in pitch black. The lack of ventilation added weight to the air, and she rubbed a bead of sweat from where it dripped along her temple. She held her breath and listened. There was something... She edged forward, ever so slowly.
Her foot hit something soft. She flipped the beam of light on, and a red-eyed rat scuttled from the sudden glow. "Fucker,"
she said to herself and relaxed while it darted into the distant darkness.
She let herself into the maintenance room. All dark but for the alien glow of backup fuel cells ready for activation.
That glow was gone by the time she strolled out of there, sweating a little bit more, and the tip of a finger throbbing from slicing it on the steel casings. There was one more station to visit down here. Then to the roof she would go.
***
It took about thirty minutes to find the second station, disable the fuel cells, and climb safely to the roof. The under tunnels were easy enough to dart along, and she never came into contact with sight nor sound of rebel presence but for the distant pounding of feet. The groups making such noise were likely far; cement and steel warped echoes incomprehensible.
She had to climb through a baggage routing system, with their conveyor belts, cranes and carts to make her way to a facilities ladder leading to the roof. It was like crawling through a staggering steel highway; luggage waited likely to be forgotten for weeks while this shit blew over.
She was running along the steel grates of a catwalk when sparks suddenly flew around her feet. The sound of the gunfire registered a moment later.
She leaped onto the adjacent convoy across a two-foot spanned freefall. When she rolled back to her feet, the rifle was in her own hands and her flashlight turned off. The orbs of light surrounding those that fired first were a perfect sight, and she shot three white-clad men before they even knew where she'd went.
Satisfied that was her only delay. Them and the rat, she clicked on her light, and navigated her way through a series of wheeled metal carts, flinging them backward as she went.
None too soon, she was throwing open the hatch and crawling onto the roof.