Soren slips last through the door, Melchior buzzing in behind him. "We don't have a lot of options to barricade anything they can't cut right through with power-swords and bolter-fire. I wish our prospects were better, but right now the best thing we can put between us and them is distance." Almost as an afterthought, he snaps off another shot with his steelburner laspistol back through the door at one of the tables of auction goods; indiscriminately shooting into the cases with the intention of triggering some of the alarms, bathing their escape in distracting klaxons before hammering the control-rune for the door (or slamming it shut, as the case may require). "If our Inquisitor was looking for the mirror, you can bet theirs was as well. We have to get it away from here; and without delay." Willing to take his own advice, he hustles onward; trying to cajole his companions onward into unmitigated withdrawal, as opposed to pausing to sustain the labor of blocking the door.