The rounded elevator raised, the speakers replaying a broken record of the daily activities scheduled for that day, programmed and narrated by LIBRA. Witch reached for the broken device and dragged out the cables with her gauntlet, forcing it to keep quiet.
In other times John would have sanctioned her for damages against the ship, but he didn’t say anything. As if his brain wasn’t flooded with cortisol, those monotonous words were about to drive him crazy.
The elevator halted at the second deck, the disinfection web shooting red light at them before the door hissed and spread. “Alright, let’s go,” John launched them the hand sign to proceed. They went out in a line, their weapons going first.
They found themselves on a cramped corridor where the maintenance rooms and personnel worked
