THE PROFESSOR'S DIRTY CLAIM
“This is the main terminal. If I can breach it, I can upload a destructive virus—something they won’t be able to counter.”
Alara nodded, trying to steady her nerves. “Then let’s do it.”
As Ryen began working, alarms blared across the chamber. The alien guards turned, their elongated limbs tense and ready. Ryen’s fingers slowed for a moment as he felt the weight of what they were about to do.
“Time’s up,” a deep, resonant voice boomed over the chamber’s speakers. An alien figure stepped forward—taller, more commanding than the others, adorned with glowing symbols that shimmered like fire. It was the ship’s commander.