Southern Cross by Windstar

"Well darn, Major, guess that Mr. Force Field wasn't…"
With a slight hiss and a shimmer, the field simply faded from view. Along with it faded every
other field in the hallway. Julie stared in shock at the now open doorway.
"…listening."
The Major cautiously stepped out of a cell further down the corridor and into her view.
"Hot damn, girl, I don't know what you did, but good work. Let's get out of here, Julie."
"I didn't do anything, trust me."
Still she had no problems at all with that suggestion. Grabbing her uniform jacket, she followed
the Major down the corridor back the way they had come. There had to be an exit somewhere
down there that they could use.
---------------
There we go, got it.
With a mental flip she deactivated the rest of the security systems in the base and shut down the
power feed to the force fields on the holding cells. Marking their location, she started to pull out
of the system. There was another computer system linked to this one, which she couldn't access
easily. A large data store caught her eye though and she darted in to take a quick peek.
What she found caused even her physical body to arch an eyebrow in surprise.
Well, well, what do we have here? All of your little secrets in one place, General Whittecker?
Too bad I don't have time to sort through these, but I can do something about that.
It really didn't take too much effort to activate what appeared to be several high bandwidth links
to the internet. Which she supposed was left over from when they were making Betty. Even
easier to send copies of those files out onto the internet, to every Imperial installation she could
think of, tacking on a note asking for backup, and the location of where she was currently.
Satisfied that she'd get to the files later, she pulled out of the network just in time to see Tom aim
his dart pistol past her head and squeeze the trigger. The pistol was standard Imperial issue, and
used electromagnets inside of it to accelerate the dart down the barrel. Unlike the rifles, a pistol's
dart didn't make it supersonic, but it still went faster than you could track with the naked eye.
The Marines were using explosive rounds, designed to penetrate armor and then detonate.
All of which did nothing to the thing racing down the hallway toward them. The dart's explosion
didn't leave so much as a scratch on its battle steel covered body. It was a familiar shape,
although she hadn't seen one for nearly sixty years now.