A sharp crack spreads along the line where the metal has weakened, branching outward under the repeated force. The next strike drives deeper, splitting the plating just enough to expose the underlying structure.
Then the hull gives.
The rupture tears open with a harsh metallic snap, followed immediately by the hiss of escaping pressure.
Roma’s attention snaps to the internal layout. “Airlock three has been compromised.”
The outer hatch buckles inward on the display, folding under the pressure from outside as the drones force the breach wider.
I turn toward the corridor.
“Dux,” she calls.
I glance back.
“Do not discharge your weapon,” she says, the urgency in her voice threading through her control. “The pressure differential and structural integrity?—”
“I’ll handle it,” I cut in, already moving.
The corridor narrows as I move deeper into the ship, the lighting dimming to emergency levels that cast long shadows along the walls. The air carries a faint shift in pressure, a subtle pull that brushes against my skin as the ship works to stabilize the breach.
The sound reaches me before I reach the airlock.
Scraping. Clicking. The harsh grind of metal forced beyond its tolerance.
I slow as I approach the corner, setting my footing before stepping into the line of the breach.
The inner airlock door has already begun to deform, the metal bending inward under the pressure from outside. A jagged opening splits along the seam, wide enough for something to force its way through.
The first drone emerges slowly, its limbs anchoring into the frame as it pulls its body into the corridor. Its head turns as it clears the threshold, locking onto me with an unsettling stillness.
Then it moves.
The lunge comes fast, its forward limbs striking toward my upper body with enough force to break bone if they land clean. I step into the attack, catching one limb mid-strike and redirecting the momentum sideways. The impact travels through my arm as I twist, using the force of its own movement to slam it into the bulkhead.
The metal dents under the impact.
The drone recoils, its body flexing as it tries to regain balance. I close the distance immediately, driving my fist into the seam beneath its plating where the armor thins near the joint. The resistance shifts under the strike, less rigid, more vulnerable.
It lashes out with its remaining limbs, one catching my side and slicing through fabric into skin. The sensation registers as a sharp line of heat, but I keep my focus on the point of weakness.
I strike again.
The plating fractures with a sharp crack.
The drone emits a high, vibrating screech that echoes through the corridor. I grab the edge of the damaged armor and wrench it back, exposing the softer structure beneath.
My hand drives into the opening, and I crush inward with as much force as I can generate.
The creature convulses.
Then it goes slack.
I shove it aside and step forward as another drone forces its way through the breach behind it.
Roma’s voice comes through the comm again, closer now, less filtered by distance. “Multiple additional contacts are converging on the breach point.”
“Keep them coming here,” I say, adjusting my stance.
