<ul>She woke up in a cold sweat.<br/><br/>There was the deafening ringing of alarms all around her, and the room had gone dark save for the red emergency lights around the perimeter of the room. "Hello?"<br/><br/>Endless ringing. Zilah winced as she pushed herself from the bed, her head pounding mercilessly. The sound grated and grated and grated, and no matter how much she cursed and pressed her fingers to her ears, it wouldn't stop. It was like a horrible scratch at the back of her throat, and no matter how much she clawed at her neck and reached with her tongue, nothing brought relief.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Mami, tÃ« lutem. Ã§'farÃ« po ndodh? Ku jemi?</span><br/><br/>Shaking her head, the female hopelessly tried to clear the memory away.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Their bodies were pressed so closely together. Beside her a man had perspired through his shirt, his round belly protruding over the belt that held his pants. The smell was rancid -- a mixture of leather, piss and body odour -- and it pierced through her nose. Beside her, the eyes of her mother attempted to reassure her in a manner that her words could not. They would be alright. Zilah need not worry. They would be safe. It was all drowned by the warning sirens all around them.</span><br/><br/>She felt like throwing up. Pushing herself to her feet, she pressed her body against the metal door and tried to hear through the thick slab for a sign of anything. Nothing came. There was nothing except for the alarms. Desperately her hand slapped against the metal several times over until the flesh ached. "Quen? What the fuck is going on?" Had they been attacked by another ship? Had the ship been breached? For the first time in a long time, Zilah felt utterly helpless. <br/><br/>For a moment, all she could do was pace around the small square perimeter. Every small noise or shudder from the ship, Zilah would jump. After a moment, she approached the bed, and flipped over the mattress. Her knives were all there, and one by one, she tucked them into pockets and compartments of the Corps uniform. One she kept in her hand. <br/> <br/><span style="font-style: italic">The library was on fire. The smell of burning dust and ink and dead trees filled the air. It was thick and her throat ached. Her father looked on with a hollow expression, his entire life's work, burnt to embers of red.</span><br/><br/>A heavy groan came from the door. The woman's body immediately tensed. Pressing herself against the wall, she trapped her breath between her lungs and tightened her hold on the knife. She would not take any chances. As the strangerâ€™s body stepped into the room her only instinct was to attack. Lunging forward, she pressed the knife under his neck and for a moment all she saw was the need for self-preservation. <span style="font-style: italic">Don't panic.</span> Don't panic?<br/><br/>"Quen?" His name was the sound of relief. Dropping the knife quickly, brown eyes searched his face for answers. The alarms had not stopped. Colour seemed to have seeped away from his face and a deep reaching terror had rooted within his eyes. This did not comfort her. Pressing past him, she stepped out onto the hallway, forgetting the roles they were playing for the time being. Why had it become hard to breathe?<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Sera DronstrÃ¶m you are not permitted to leave the containment bay. You are under arrest for 23 offences against the Human Empire. You must remain in quarantine to be taken to the nearest Imperial holding center for detention and trial.</span><br/><br/>That sounded familiar.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">There has been a breach. The integrity of this mission has been threatened. Return to the containment bay or I will be forced to take precautions. </span><br/><br/>What breach was the stupid computer talking about? Turning to Quen, her voice dropped to a whisper, "We have to shut it down." That was obvious enough. Zilah had dealt with enough AI systems to know that when you most needed them they were pieces of shit; however when it came time to outsmarting them, the task was damn near impossible. She wondered whether they could trust each other enough to keep themselves alive before the ship killed them. "I'll take the core -- you go to the bridge and input all the codes."<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Sera DronstrÃ¶m you are not permitted to leave the containment bay. I will be forced to take precautions.</span><br/><br/>Her breathing was ever so laboured. At first she had thought it was the terror seeping in, but it became obvious that the problem was bigger than that. With widening eyes she stared at him in horror, "Are we losing oxygen?"<br/></ul>