“Just what is happening down there?” Demora’s voice echoed, with both concern and anger.
“I think I could use some help,” Talon admitted, as he summoned his fusion-powered pistol once more. As Demora rushed down the ship’s cabin, Vert made his final stand. The deserter unsheathed a knife, similar to the one he’d thrown in the bar. The scintillating blade expelled small bursts of electrostatic discharge, essentially turning the fumes around it into supercharged gas. A slash ten feet away from Talon sent a current surging towards the gunslinger, severing his free arm. While Talon took aim, Vert tumbled away. Mere moments before the gunslinger could pull the trigger, Vert snatched up the convulsing Ghost and held it to his chest. As Talon fired, Vert held up his Ghost to absorb the golden bullet. The little machine began to glow hot like magma.
“What have you done?” Talon muttered, battered and backing away. Behind Talon, Demora dropped in from the ladder; apparently she had some semblance of what was going on below deck.
“I know that light. It’s the tech he stole from the Ishtar Collective. And it’s Vex derived.”
“That psycho kit-bashed alien temporal tech into his-”
“Yes. He did,” Demora interrupted, a slight quiver in her voice. “And with your energy, there might be consequences.” Fractal spires of crystalline quarks crawled out of the unstable Ghost. The spires grew like tendrils around the hold, seeping into reality and spilling strangelets out into every direction. Hyper particles ate away at the Endurance, revealing a sky on fire across the horizon. The silk-like threads from the bedrock of the microverse revealed themselves, only to be stretched and torn to shreds. Talon instinctively covered his eyes as space crumbled around him, but realized there was no need. At first there was the bright, blinding light. And then, nothing. Nothing but blackness- and the faint, shimmering hue of distant stars.
To Be Continued…