#kranok

It’s almost eerie, the lack of it. The air feels too heavy in the quiet.

But that’s not his concern. Kranok is here to keep his head down, collect information for the Blade, and do what little medical work he can manage among these savages. He spares one more disdainful look at the alarm before returning to his work.

When he settles at the desk again, though, a light catches his eye. A small communicator, tucked away from public view, accessible only to his co-operative and their Leader.

A furtive glance around the empty infirmary is all he allows before pulling the communicator out and hunching over to answer it in hushed tones.

“Therek,” he hisses. “This is not—”

“We need to get out.” Therek’s voice is just as quiet, but the statement is delivered with all the force of the Empire Commander his fellow has been playing for so long.

Kranok knows he has the right to question a call that someone of the same rank has made, but he doesn’t dare cross that tone. “When?”

“Now. Escape point three. Stay away from any officer.”

“I am on my way.” Kranok ends the call, tucks the communicator into a hidden pocket of his suit, and checks his Marmoran blade in its concealed sheath at his back. Everything in order, like he’s kept it since being stationed here. The only thing left is to grab the tiny drive that has been collecting data constantly during his tenure—all the data has already been transmitted to the Blade, but he can’t risk leaving any trace.

With that, Kranok is striding from the infirmary toward their designated escape point. He ignores everything around him until he notices the drones.

Or rather, he notices their stillness.

In his mind he lets out a nasty snarling swear, because clearly something has gone very wrong, something that could compromise their mission in unknown ways, and he needs to find Therek now. 

Damn conspicuity. Kranok breaks into a sprint, his long legs and years of Blade training carrying him in record time through the hovels the Empire calls a base. Fortunately, the escape point is tucked into a relatively hidden spot, so he only catches glimpses of slaves and guards and officers down malformed alleyways as he goes.

Therek is waiting just behind the pod they prepped long ago, his Marmoran blade drawn but not transformed.

“Kranok!” he barks. “Let’s go!”

Kranok doesn’t break stride as he leaps into the pod and straps in while Therek takes the controls. Within moments, they’re in the air, and they’ve broken atmosphere by the time he musters words.

“What happened?” he asks tersely.

“Some sort of revolt. One of the prisoners, I suppose. They got into the computer systems.” Therek’s jaw is clenched and his eyes flick between the pod screens and vast, open space before them.

It suddenly becomes all too obvious.