Ben-Ari is working at his terminals muttering to himself. Maxim and Zephyr are sitting in the “customer lounge”, watching an episodic vid-drama set on a space station. Suddenly the diminutive alien jumps from his stool, knocking over a piece of equipment that neither ex-Peacekeeper recognizes.
“Were you two followed?!” he shrieks. He taps on his wrist comm and energy fields spring to life around the front entry area.
Maxim and Zephyr look at each other. “No, and we didn’t even leave our cargo bot outside—we sent it to the spaceport to wait. Why?” Both are standing now, looking tense.
Ben-Ari runs back to his primary workstation and tosses them each a wrist comm. “These are done. We have company, someone musta spotted you!” He waves his hand in a gesture that must have been a trigger motion, as several screens light up suddenly, showing external views of the storefront. At least a dozen Peacekeepers are standing in the street outside the front door. One of them is holding what looks like a doorbuster, a device designed to hack into any door’s security protocols, and failing that, to generate a explosion to blow said door in.
Maxim and Zephyr both draw their newly-acquired sidearms, looking around for defensible positions. There’s no shortage of junk in the space, but none of it seems like it’ll stop a blaster bolt, and certainly not a dozen or two of them.
“Good luck!” Ben-Ari screams from a doorway that neither ex-Peacekeeper could say was there a moment ago. It is already starting to close after him.
“Wait!” Zephyr calls, racing toward the closing door. She reaches it just in time to jam her pulse pistol into the gap. “Come on, Maxim!”
He rushes over, and they both pry the door open just enough to slip through. The door clicks closed behind them, and up ahead they see the small Brailack trundling along a secret hallway.
Ben-Ari groans loud enough that they can hear, then shouts over his shoulder, “Come on then! You better not slow me down, or get me noticed and killed!” Somewhere along the way, the small green-skinned being has grabbed a scaled-down energy rifle. Maxim decides to ask about that later. They’re in a hallway, running along the back wall of the store, which reaches well past where the store ended. Does this hallway go into the shop next door? What is next door? Maxim can’t recall. He’s getting sloppy; he can’t remember whether it was open or closed, or just an abandoned shop. He’d never have made that mistake a cycle ago, when he was a Peacekeeper. Lives depended on knowing these things.
They’ve barely run five meters when the building shakes. Through the wall they can hear shouting. The breach team is following Peacekeeper protocol: announcing themselves loudly while stunner grenades explode all around. The sound of failing energy shields can clearly be heard too—it is doubtful Ben-Ari that expected his defenses to come up against Peacekeepers. Is this hallway shielded? If not, the Peacekeepers will pick up their body heat in seconds.
Seeming to sense Maxim’s thoughts, Ben-Ari calls back, “Don’t worry, I’ve reinforced this hallway. We should be clear for at least another few ticks. Then you two are on your own—I don’t want you dragging me down, or getting me shot.”
Maxim growls under his breath.
Without warning, Ben-Ari breaks left through a hatchway that’s barely visible in the wall. Suddenly they’re in the alley behind the shops, about four stalls down. There’s trash on both sides of the door, and Zephyr realizes that this is intentional. Behind the piles, they’re clear of the secret hallway, and able to look up and down the alley without being seen by anyone else in the alley—a good thing, because six Peacekeepers are standing around the back door of the store Ben-Ari recently called home.
“Okay, bye,” the creature whispers to them, before heading off in the opposite direction.
Maxim isn’t even sure he knows the name of the spaceport or the city that surrounds it, but he assumes it’s a common name, to match the nondescript nature of the place. All that’s visible is run-down buildings, shops, and residences. Nothing looks new. Certainly, nothing shines, as it’s all uniformly covered with a layer of grime, which he can only hope is just dirt.
“You know they know who you are, right?” Zephyr whispers after the retreating hacker. “You’re not safe either. Help us get to the spaceport, and we can keep you safe. Wil will keep you safe.”
Ben-Ari stops, and stands there a few seconds, considering. Then he turns his head. “Fine, come on.” He continues on, this time at a run.
The three are soon running as fast and as quiet as they can, the small green-skinned hacker in the lead, winding this way and that through what feels like progressively more disgusting alleyways.
“Where are we going?” Maxim whispers. Luckily, his Peacekeeper training means that even as fast as Ben-Ari is running, it’s no more than a fast walk for Maxim. “The spaceport isn’t in this direction.”
“I know that! You think I don’t know that? I’ve lived in this piece of crap joint for the last five cycles. You think I don’t know where the spaceport is?!” Ben-Ari screech-whispers, without turning his head. “I have a cache a few blocks from here. We’ll stop there, then head to your ship.”
As far as the two ex-Peacekeepers can tell they’re not being pursued. There’s no indication they were seen leaving Ben-Ari’s workshop. Knowing what to look and listen for, both are as certain as they can be that no drones are following them. It isn’t a 100% certainty, but it is the best they can manage. Peacekeeper drones are meant to be quiet, but not silent, which is a good thing. Peacekeepers don’t launch drones unless they need too, so it’s possible they aren’t taking this issue seriously, given the location.
Ben-Ari comes to a stop, brushing dirt and grime off a control pad next to a door that looks nearly rusted shut. He punches in a code and with a louder-than-ideal groan the door slides inward. Squeezing through the gap, the little hacker whispers back, “Come on, push that closed when you get in.”
When Zephyr and Maxim enter the small space beyond, they find themselves speechless. No more than 3 meters wide in each direction, the room is packed with shelves, and piles of equipment and weapons. Ben-Ari is running from rack to rack—climbing, grabbing, tossing. He’s swapping out things he had in his pockets for new things, none of which Maxim or Zephyr recognize. The pockets of his jumpsuit are beginning to bulge, and there’s a large pack in the middle of the room, nearly full. “I just need another minute,” he pants.
“What’s the rush?” Maxim asks, just as the lighting shifts from harsh white to red. A speaker hidden somewhere in the room emits three sharp beeps then goes silent. “What was that?” Maxim and Zephyr are looking all around the chamber.
“That, you big jinx, means they’re here. Well not ‘here’ here, but on this block. Someone tripped one of my early warning sensors—they’re placed around the ends of the alley.” Ben-Ari climbs down one set of shelves, drops something in the pack, and is immediately up another set of shelves rummaging around for something else. “They must have had a drone or two in the area and it spotted us leaving. The alarm means they’re in the alleyway we just came from.”
“How are we going to get out of here? Is there another exit?” Zephyr asks, looking around the room, not seeing any other door or hallway, other than the one they’ve come from. It’s not an ideal space for a last stand, but at least the doorway is a natural chokepoint.
Dropping back to the ground and slipping another unidentifiable piece of tech into the pack, Ben-Ari closes the pack and looks at the ex-Peacekeepers. “I hope your sense of smell isn’t very strong.” He hefts the bag, and shoves some things aside to reveal a grate in the floor.
“Oh no,” whispers Zephyr. “Please no.”