Call me Lusac.
Not 'Lucas'. And certainly not 'Loser' like my crewmates like to call me. You see, my mother had an obsession with fancy names when I was born. But, living on a rural planet with no proper education, she didn't really know how to spell any of those fancy names.
So what was it she meant to name me? Probably 'Lucas', but she'll never admit it.
Anyway, this is my story—the story of how I ended up ruining the whole galaxy. Crazy, right? To think a little nobody with a weird name like me could actually do something that big. But, well, I did. And here's how it all started:
***
A green laser bolt exploded on the crates protecting Lus as he begged his pistol to cool down just a little faster. He would like to return some fire before the guards caught up to him and blew his head off. All around the large open warehouse were strewn collections of alunitanium boxes, cargolifts, and the shattered remnants of glass displays.
"Whoever tripped the security sensors, I'm going to personally murder you when we're back on the ship." Cewi-Bano's yell in the comm on his ear cut through the noise of battle.
The dial on Lusac's blaster finally dropped to a reasonable temperature, allowing him to sit up and lay down a few shots of his own against the mass of purple uniforms encroaching on the team's position. The sweat of his hands made it difficult to properly aim the gun, especially since the usefulness of the grip had long since worn away.
"Blame Wsr. She was supposed to have cut the alarms," Zer-Dasht responded pointedly. The orange, scaly Nemarian was currently ducked behind the cargolift a couple of yards ahead of Lusac, waiting for his own rifle to cool back down. A petite humanoid in shape, the fins along his head and arms added some height to his otherwise small frame.
"You're the one who rushed into the warehouse before I finished," Wsr bit back. The Kremel was to Lus's upper left, barely able to contain her large frame behind the wide pillar that protected her from the worst of the lasers. She towered well above anyone else on the team, and she was twice as broad as any of them. Her dark gray skin half-blended in with her black uniform, making it hard to see her expression, though Lus was sure it matched her frustrated tone.
"Let's focus on the problem at hand, people," Cewi-Bano redirected them to the battle they were attempting to wage. The purple Nemarian was closest to Lus, off to his right where he had a clear line of sight of her with her collection of guns. Whenever her rifle hit the cooldown phase, she swapped to her double pistols, resulting in only the brief transition periods that she wasn't laying fire into their enemies. Given she was the best shot on the whole crew, her skill was all that really kept the others from instant annihilation.
Lus hunched behind the metal boxes once more as his blaster reached its heat limit. Only two of his ten bolts hit home, wounding one of the mercenaries. It wasn't fair that he got a twenty year old pistol that couldn't last more than a dozen shots before it needed a cooldown when nearly everyone else on the team had the latest tech that could carry on for nearly a hundred consecutive shots. Then again, since that fighting wasn't exactly his strength, his weapon was only meant to be used in an absolute emergency.
Such as this.
Lusac was only here to sneak in through the vents and let the rest of the team in. With that complete, his one goal was keep from dying as they made their escape with their prize.
Unfortunately that goal was looking more and more out of reach as a dozen more uniformed security guards poured into the main room of the warehouse where the Runners battled for their lives. Suns, how much money would you have to pay someone to willingly risk their lives to protect an unused, personal museum? As Lus took aim at their enemies once again, he tried to convince himself that not one of the mercenaries had a family back home.
"More reinforcements incoming. We'll never make it out," Zer-Dasht warned.
"Not in a straight shootout," Cewi-Bano agreed. "Lus and I will cover you and Wsr. You two make for the back rooms. We'll find our exit there."
"But that place is a maze. If we take a wrong turn, we'll be cornered," Wsr pointed out.
"It's more of a chance than facing two dozen mercs with just the four of us." Cewi-Bano's voice was firm, asserting her authority as the leader on this mission.
Zer-Dasht and Wsr both grudgingly agreed. Lus appreciated that he was paired with Cewi-Bano given her expertise in sharp shooting. He carefully watched the female Nemarian where she remained crouched behind her own set of crates. She nodded her head, and together they both stood up and rained energy bolts into the incoming troops. Lus missed all his targets completely, and Cewi-Bano only hit a couple, but they still succeeded in their goal of getting all the security personnel to duck behind some kind of cover so Wsr and Zer-Dasht could dash to the side door leading into the maze of corridors and stockrooms.
From the doorway, the Kremel and Nemarian laid down their own coverfire to allow Lusac and Cewi-Bano to join them. Cewi kept firing as Zer-Dasht pulled the door shut and Wsr hastily grabbed at the nearest heavy furniture in the room that once may have served as an office of some kind.
"This won't hold them for long, but at least it gives us a start," she said as she finished wedging the filing cabinet into the doorframe. Blaster bolts pinged into the door, seconding the Kremel's opinion.
"A headstart I intend to use to its fullest extent," Cewi-Bano agreed. The five rows of indigo fins which ran from the top of her head to the base of her neck twitched as she stared into the three-way branch leading away from the warehouse door before she assertively pointed to the middle one.
Lus didn't quite share her confidence, and the look on Wsr's face showed that she didn't either, but no one questioned their leader as they followed her down the dimly lit hallway. A few small boxes littered the sides of the already narrow walkway, and Wsr was forced to jog sideways as they went due to the broadness of her shoulders.
Zer-Dasht wore the backpack with their prize, a piece of a relic from the Ancient Ones. To Lus it looked like nothing more than fancily carved stone, similar to any generic cave drawing, but someone out there was willing to pay a very high price to get it in their hands. Given that the current owner had likely stolen it themselves just to keep it locked away in a dusty storage facility, it didn't really seem like a crime to take it anyway.
Cewi cursed as they ran into another intersection of hallways and doors. They'd already learned the hard way their map of the facility was out of date. Instead, it was just a matter of luck and praying the security force wasn't able to get their system back online until long after the Runners were away.
"This way," Cewi said as she gestured to the left hallway. Lus was fairly certain that she was wildly guessing.
This corridor was wide enough for Wsr to walk mostly straight at least, and there were fewer spare boxes impeding their path. Unlike the previous hall, this one had no doors to break up the white walls stretching towards a sharp corner. The concern of being cornered surfaced in Lus's mind as he jogged a few steps behind Wsr while Dasht took up the rear.
At the corner, Cewi-Bano let loose a curse. Another long hallway stretched before them with only a door at the end, and based on its appearance, it wasn't anywhere they wanted to go.
"Let's try the right one instead," Wsr said as she turned away. Cewi caught her arm.
"This might still lead somewhere. It's set up quite a bit differently than the rest of the building which leads me to believe it is more likely to provide an exit than the mess of offices back there," the Nemarian argued. The faint sound of shouts from behind served as a reminder as to the danger they would face if they turned back now.
Wsr huffed, her tall, pointed ears lowering in annoyance, but she didn't vocalize any complaints against Cewi-Bano. Instead they all followed their leader down the stubby hallway to the generic door she claimed held their escape.
While she wasn't necessarily wrong, she wasn't exactly right either. Beyond the door was a large room, far more neatly organized than the rest of the facility. Unlike proper museums where the exhibits were clearly just exhibits, this genuinely felt like taking a step back in time several hundred years.
One long desk took up the majority of the far wall where several dozen glass screen monitors were arrayed on the wall before it. On the table itself were a mechanical keyboard and other various pieces of technology Lus didn't recognize. He knew enough to know that this tech was very old, but not old enough to really be ancient. It was strange to see it set up in a manner that looked like it might be used. The proprietor of the place definitely had more than enough money to afford far better than this. Two doors sat at the far wall, giving Lus faint hope they weren't going to have to try to blast past the security forces in an unprotected hallway.
Zer-Dasht whistled as he scanned the room after closing the door. Wsr busied herself with loading the nearest pieces of furniture in front of it.
"Do you think any of this actually works?" Lus asked as he stepped up to the keyboard and pressed a few keys. His soft cry of surprise startled the rest of the room as they all reached for their guns. Several of the monitors blinked on, and what sounded like a fan broke up the eerie silence.