The blaring alarm grated on his nerves. It had been a long time since that siren had brought him terror, that herald of the dead and dying. How many times had he heard it before? How many times had he been forced to flee, and how many friends had he left behind? Too many. Uncountable.
It was that helplessness that had smothered his fear, and birthed his anger.
"Unauthorized warps in system," the AI spoke through his earpiece as he walked quickly through the not-so-secret space station. "Drall ship signatures confirmed; defensive fleet has engaged."
The reinforced steel doors of the facility opened before him as he walked, shimmering security barriers deactivated and did not bar his way as he made his way into the secure laboratory. His staff was already hard at work destroying anything that the enemy might be able to use against them. A marine in combat armor hurried over to salute; probably a new conscript then. No veteran would bother with protocol during a Drall attack.
"Director, the Commander has sent us to escort you and your team to the evac." It was normally difficult to tell the soldier's emotions, what with his full face helmet and voice slightly synthesised by that helmet's speaker, but barely contained panic was never too hard to place. "The Bugkeys have already deployed boarding vessels, they will arrive any-"
The station shook. Honestly, he felt that the defense fleet should all receive commendations; the Drall usually slipped their boarding parties through much more quickly. Not that the commendations would matter, it would be just a note tacked onto their posthumous double promotions. The defensive fleets were only allowed to retreat after all critical staff were evacuated or dead, and that usually meant that they didn't get to retreat at all.
A cruel and cold smile appeared on his face, because this time he could provide the brave soldiers and captains a pyre formed from the dead bodies of every Drall within the system.
"Sir, if you would follow me..." He ignored the soldier, instead walking to a console before a giant machine. If one peered through the gantry above, they would see that it passed through many of the station's decks. And if they knew what it cost, they would likely cough up blood, especially because he was about to wreck it.
His fingers flew over the holographic keyboard, setting parameters and prepping the device which began to hum ominously. It wasn't supposed to do that, but it wasn't a critical issue so they had never gotten around to fixing it.
"Station, override the power limits to lab three dash alpha," he spoke to the station's AI. "Then activate full purge protocols; wipe all data and detonate your core. Authorization code beta seven delta gamma four six two two zero eight three one one epsilon."
"Authorization confirmed. Power limits overridden, core destruction activated."
The AI's last words as it committed suicide. On the console screen, meters and dials rose as energy poured into the device. The process couldn't be stopped now.
"As you say soldier," he replied as he stepped back. "Let's get out of here."
Their party didn't get far before running into the first group of Drall. Hideous creatures that looked like the unholy love children of ants and monkeys; their mix of chitin and bristling fur, combined with their too long fingers never ceased to put a chill in his spine.
The temperature in the hall rose quickly as plasma flew, blasting the Drall to pieces. Luckily, these were merely low status youngsters and not the Drall hunting elite, so they bore no armor or personal shields and no weapons more powerful than ionizing rifles. If they were lucky, that was all they would face, but he knew better than to trust luck.
Without the AI, he was forced to use his wrist mounted interface to check the station's security cameras and devices. There was not much left of them.
Too little, in fact, as a pack of Drall charged around a corner. These ones were no low caste fodder either, their glittering black armor and Gauss rifles more than a match for Human Alliance standard arms. Of the six soldiers and two dozen scientists, three soldiers and eight scientists were dead before they could find cover.
The station hallway provided precious little cover; not nearly enough for everyone and another ten of the scientists were dead or dying another second later.
He drew his pistol, ignoring the piteous moans of the woman on the floor to his right. If it weren't for her genetic enhancements, she would already be dead, seeing as half her chest was missing. If she could be brought to medical, and given a few days of time, she could recover even from this; but they didn't even have an hour before the weapon detonated.
One of the Drall's shields broke, and he took the opportunity to shoot a round of plasma into its head before ducking back behind cover in time to avoid a spike fire by it's companions. The narrow hallway left no room for tactics and the fight was bloody, if short. Only two soldiers and six scientists, including himself made it past and to the evac pods.
These pods would also serve as a self destruct mechanism for this part of the station, as the resulting fluctuations in space-time from entering warp without moving to a safe distance would rip a good fourth of the station to shreds. Presuming all the staff in other sections made it to their evacuation points, those warps would rip away the remaining three quarters reducing the station down to wreckage.
But as he was strapping in, a notification appeared on his interface.
"Early detonation!? But how? If that occurs..." But his arm was already strapped down for emergency warp, the pod was beginning to emit sleeping gas and prepping the cryogenic devices. He couldn't manipulate the interface and his voice was too slurred for voice recognition without the AI!
He struggled, but in vain. Dozens of error messages popped up, and the last thing he saw was a flash of white light outside the pod. He fell asleep, not knowing if, or when, he would ever wake up again.