The plasma torch in Vane’s hand hissed, a hungry blue flame eating the oxygen in the hangar. He walked with the heavy, deliberate gait of a man who enjoyed the finality of his tasks. Behind him, two guards trailed closely, their fingers hovering over the triggers of their kinetic rifles. They didn't see the threat emanating from the holding pen. They only saw a prisoner and a broken old man.
"Wait!" Sarah screamed, her voice echoing against the vaulted hangar ceiling. She threw herself against the rebar, her hands glowing with the friction of her desperation. "Vane, you i***t! If you kill Thorne, you lose the only interface to the memory banks. You’ll be blind in the coming storm!"
Vane didn't even turn his head. "The High Council has already decided. Thorne is a relic of the rot. We don
