Vincent found himself in a world of shit. He accepted the helmet from the other guard. But no helmet would protect him from the barrage of blaster-fire that was sent their way. All around him, guards fell to the metal floor, some wounded, some worse off still. The numbers of the third wave was dwindling fast until Vincent called for the retreat. There was no way they would halt the well-armed and armored assailants with the numbers they had left.<br/><br/>The seven or eight survivors of the third way fell back to where the rest of the guards had set up a defense point. Near a choke point within the system of maze that made up the corridors of the ship. If the attackers were headed for the main cell block, they would have to pass through the main corridor. That meant that the guards were able to organize themselves in the large processing area that lay just behind it. They could bundle their fire and create a veritable killing zone through which the attackers would have to pass.<br/><br/>Vincent found cover behind one of the containers that had been thrown up as make-shift defenses. Whatever happened, they would make their stands then and there…<br/>