Thin lips scowl. "Ruin my fun, Varo." No longer needing to be here, she sprints down the dark corridors, terrified onlookers cowering from the very sound of her heels hitting the steel decking like thunderclaps in thier ears. She shoulders her way through a half opened doorway, heading upwards toward the information relay cogitators. With a rasping hiss the sword at her side unsheaths, the blade turning crimson as she forces her will through the blade. A flash of power from her eyes forces the blade to expand, each fragment of the blade held by monomolecular cable, her power channeled to each like a kineblade. A whiring grinding sound as she flings the blade's edges at the wall before her, sparks flying as she cuts her way through the bulkhead and into the cogitator room.