<ul>When traditional methods refused to work, she was forced to improvise. The hatch seemed to be stuck, meaning the seconds were ticking away and she had yet to enter the core. Shuffling around the duct system uncomfortably, she kicked the opening once and then again. Stubbornly, it remained shut. In her head she was cursing, endlessly, the stream flowing through her mind rapidly as she gave the hatch one more final kick, adding an extra dose of gusto and hatred and with tired eyes, watched it give away.<br/><br/>With some struggle she helped herself out of the vent, coming down on her hands, crouching. The headache she felt was immediate as her eyes floated around the circular room, adjusting. Despite all the precautions, the pressure was heavy, and she reeled slightly when getting back onto her feet.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Sera DronstrÃ¶m you are not authorized to be here. What are you doing?</span><br/><br/>The computer's voice came as a surprise to her, having been left only with the sound of her own pounding heart for the past few fleeting moments. Glancing upwards at where she imagined this omnipresent voice was, she turned to the central core, noticing that there was no way to force herself in. The entire thing was sealed tightly and only Quen's code would give her access.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">You are not authorized to be here. You are not Corps personnel. Stop now.</span><br/><br/>Was that a sense of urgency she heard in the hollow, robotic voice? Or was that what Zilah wanted to hear? <br/><br/>Suddenly a hissing noise caught her attention, and Zilah was dancing around the outer armour to find where the noise had come from. Her vision was growing increasingly blurry, the headache worsening, but she told herself that she had to concentrate. Despite seeing the power switch handle, she began to press off several other switches, not wanting any command left in the hands of the damned AI system, and not willing to take any chances. Her vision was going black, the edges fuzzy. <br/><br/>Goddamn it, Zilah. Push through.<br/><br/>Finally with what seemed to be the remainder of her strength, she pulled the handle.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Without me, you will both di--</span><br/><br/>It was like a cassette player that had been rewound back too quickly, the sound growing into a low-pitched hum, until there was nothing. She was left in silence. Somehow, she had expected something more exciting than this. Her breath caught in her throat, and she refused to move, wondering if that would somehow trigger the chimp back up. Her fingertips danced against the empty air for a moment, as she reached into the holster and worked the gun out. <br/><br/>Shots rang out, and a ribbon of smoke slithered from the console. It was redundant but she had been determined to kill the stupid machine once and for all. Struggling to keep her hold on the gun tight, her feet carried her backwards towards the doors. <br/><br/>Had the machine been right? Were they going to die without it?<br/><br/>She wasn't sure if she was dreaming Quen there or if he really was there, but in her complete exhaustion and pain, she didn't care. Crossing the distance between them, she smirked at him not realizing that the suit covered her mouth and awkwardly slumped against him, her legs crumbling beneath her. <br/><br/>"I think it's dead," she mumbled through the clinching pain she felt at her temples, as the black around the edges of her vision finally consumed her whole.<br/></ul>