by Elsa Jade
Her deliberate cave-in ignited just as she dove behind the partial shelter of the runabout’s worn-ragged track, pressing hard against the bite of the treads. She squeezed her eyes shut as dust and discord exploded past her. The booming roar of collapsing rock wasn’t like distant thunder of electrified dust storms—it was deeper, rattling her bones.
If she hadn’t calculated correctly in the scant time she’d had, the stone would keep crumbling, severing along the flaws in its matrix, crashing down…
Strong hands on her, yanking her to her feet, hauling her close like a sack of treasure. Fenn tossed her up into the hold—maybe less like treasure and more like plunder—clambering after her.
“I think you smashed at least one of them,” he gasped, running past her for the cockpit.
That hadn’t been her intent; she’d only wanted to wall them out. Swallowing down bile, she threw herself into the chair beside Fenn as he jammed the tracks into gear.
The patter of rocks on the hull made her hunch her shoulders, and she clenched her burned hands together. “Go faster.”
He didn’t argue, but the runabout was already straining. Finally, the cracking rumble of settling stone fell away behind them, and she slumped in her seat.
“We made it.” He put one hand on her nape but kept his gaze fixed on the dark path ahead.
The running lights were more like crawling lights, revealing a scant meter ahead as the runabout’s basic AI prioritized other system power over visibility. Which in a tunnel probably wasn’t a good sign.
“I had to do it,” she said defensively, even though he hadn’t questioned her. “They would’ve caught us.”
“They might still,” he noted. “You did what you had to do.”
Would he feel the same if they were trapped down here, buried alive, without even the protection of the stasis unit as their breathable air ran low?
She raked both hands over her head, the prickle of her hair like jabbing needles on her burned fingertips. “That was the last of our explosives.”
“There are more ways to move through the world than blowing things up or bashing them apart,” he said mildly.
She swiveled her head to glare at him. “Is that in the mercenary handbook?”
“Chapter 2,” he said solemnly. “After blowing and bashing, not blowing and bashing. He gave her neck a squeeze before putting both hands back on the controls. “I know you wouldn’t have steered us this way without thinking ahead to our next chance.”
Though he wasn’t touching her, her throat still tightened.
Had anyone ever asked her thoughts? Yeah, they would take her brawn and bravery when the moment came. But even Gavyn had waited until the rebellion was underway before asking her to fight, and he never asked for anything more of her than to bash what she could and blow up what she couldn’t.
She stared down at the blisters on the pads of her fingers. With the painkillers on board from earlier, she wasn’t feeling them yet. But she would, soon enough, just as she’d feel the helpless regret of taking a life when she’d grown up bigger and stronger than almost anyone around her — and still hadn’t been able to save those she loved. In the cold rock, life was rare and precious, even more so than valuable minerals and it seemed wrong, so wrong, but now she’d killed to bring new life to her little world.
Righteous indignation flooded through her like Q-spiked vapors. Gavyn and Ahmya had stolen Ydro-Down from QueCorp, fair and square. And Martika and Rio had proved their hereditary legal claim as well. If Ming Waller wanted a blow-down, bash-out fight to annihilation… Well, she’d been forced into servitude, and now she would serve him exactly what he wanted.
She leaned forward to stab at the comm panel, pulling up the survey map. “Haul roads—like this one through the mountain, from the quarry out to the plain on the other side—are the smoothest and safest, meant for the most valuable or fragile materials.” She traced her finger over the course they’d abandoned. “It’s also not the kind of road that QueCorp ever let us use for ourselves. We were always routed through other channels.” Bitterness leached into her voice. “We were always considered the most replaceable of their assets.”
“So you’re hoping this”—he touched the map where’d they found themselves—“is one of those other channels.”
She nodded. “Did you notice how the berm narrowed past this point?”
“No,” he drawled. “I was too busy panicking at the way that ship was blowing chunks out of the road.”
“Exactly. That’s the reason I turned off at this tunnel. But also, I think the width of the berm to this point means that this was the scrap ore transport passage. It’ll actually be faster, more direct, since there was no need to treat the materials to extra handling.”
“Well, that sounds better for us.”
She hesitated. “Mostly…”
He made a sound, half groan, half laugh. “Tell me more.”
“Even the overseer didn’t make us take the scrap passage. Too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous for hardrock miners.” Fenn sighed. “Of course. Let’s do it then.”
Chapter 14
All the Ydro-Down tunnels he’d been in were utilitarian at best and went downhill from there—even when they went uphill. Still, this one was the worst so far. Not only were the walls low, tight, dark, and rough, but the disintegrating old conveyer belts used to transport the scrap rock kept grabbing at the runabout’s treads, yanking them against those low, tight, dark, rough walls.
When his heart began to thud eve more painfully than the hull against the rock, reverberating between his ears, Fenn realized he’d been holding his breath while the subway closed claustrophobically around them, and the darkness collapsed closer yet. The runabout was running low on power. He let out the air—how much was left anyway?—with a gasp. “Did you hear that?”
“You sounding like a fish out of water?”
Distracted, he muttered, “You said there were no fish—”
The hollow, distant thudding echoed again.
Jashanna stiffened. “They’re clearing the passage behind us. One grenade wasn’t enough.”
And now they didn’t even have that.
Mentally, he catalogued the defenses remaining to them. “You have the pistol I gave you?” When she jerked her head in a reluctant nod, he gave her a steady look. “Don’t hesitate. You may only have one chance.”
She glowered at him. “I know how many chances I get.”
The only reason they were here together was because they’d both been given this task. One chance…
He let out another breath. “Those hovercycles might not have the range of the runabout, but they’re much faster. We can’t outrun them, and they outnumber us.”
She lifted her chin. “Ydro-Down knew its chances too. And that never, ever stopped us.”
He leaned over the space between their cockpit chairs to kiss her. Even though she was mad, he had to. Because he knew their chances even better.
He kissed her deep, with tongue and breath and everything he had in him, which might not be much, might not be enough. The front end of the port track scratched against the wall, and the pressure sensor beeped a warning that the wall was too steep to climb.
It had no idea what they were capable of.
Jashanna pulled back, licking her lower lip. “Steer,” she ordered. “Or next time I drive.”
“Any time you want,” he promised.
She snorted. “Well, let’s not do this too often.”
But the flash of her smile was so bold and sweet and tempting that he feared no procedure in the Salty Way would be strong enough to kill the thrill of following her into the dark.
But how could he tell her that when his very presence was just a reminder that her world was not now and might never be the home of peace and beauty that she deserved?
He let out one last slow, steadying breath. “Jash, you’re not going to like this but—”
“Fenn,” she said, mimicki
ng his gentle tone. “I’m not going to throw you out the hatch and demand you defend us with one vaccing pistol while I keep running.”
Since that had been exactly his idea, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Actually, I was going to make you give me the second pistol back,” he muttered.
She shook her head. “Still not gonna let you do it.”
“It’s why I’m here,” he argued impatiently.
“Maybe it is. Or it was. But not anymore.” She’d been staring out at the gathering gloom in front of them, but when she turned her head to glare at him, her dark eyes flared—not with the fading glow of the running lights, but with the fire of her conviction. And he knew no matter how far they ran, or how low their power dropped, she’d always rise in anger at any chance that didn’t include them all equally, even if that chance was dangerous in the extreme.
He wanted to kiss her again, to keep kissing her until the fragile, tentative beginnings of terraforming on Ydro-Down finally caught hold and blossomed into a garden of life.
“We don’t have any other choices left,” he told her gently. “This tunnel is too small and tight, and the conveyer system is chewing up the last of our treads while the hovercycles can just keep screaming towards us. We can’t run. We can’t hide. We can’t even fight.”
Her lips curled, a smile or a snarl he wasn’t sure. “Then we do what QueCorp taught us best. We hold tight, and our chance will come.”
But they were running out of time and tunnel. Judging by the ominous chop of the rotors behind them, the cycles were gaining. And the light in front of them had faded to smoke as the AI channeled all remaining available power to the engine area
Whatever chance remained to them, he couldn’t see it and he didn’t think they could reach it.
Jashanna was still staring out the viewport as if there was anything to see besides their doom. Suddenly, she let out a victorious whoop, loud enough to drown out the shriek of rotors closing hard behind him. “There it is! I wasn’t sure…” She smacked his shoulder. “There’s our chance, my mercenary martyr.”
He peered ahead. “That’s…that’s a wall,” he said bluntly. “That’s the end.”
“Mostly,” she said with seemingly unwarranted enthusiasm. “See that black hole?”
“It’s all black hole,” he said grumbled.
“Don’t go all deep-creep on me. That extra dark hole in the middle. That’s the way out. At the end of that tunnel is daylight.”
“Looks awfully small and dark.” And rough.
“The conveyor system that’s been chewing up our tread was used to bring the ore this far—but then it was dumped straight down that hole. From here, gravity takes the ore straight, fast, and cheap through the chute to waiting haulers on the plain.” She gave him a triumphant smile.
He blinked at her. “In this scenario, we’re the scrap ore.”
She beamed at him. “Exactly.”
“I was hoping you’d say mostly,” he muttered. “There’s no way the runabout will fit through that hole.”
She chewed at her lower lip. “That’s true,” she admitted. “But the stasis units will. They are strong enough to survive the descent.” She gazed at him, a shine in her dark eyes that had nothing to do with running lights or even her righteous anger. “If we link your data tab with a transponder beacon on the first casket, when it hits the plain, your ship will catch the signal. Gavyn is waiting to fetch us, and he’ll be just a kilometer or two up the hill, where we should’ve come out through the haul road access. He can swoop down and grab the caskets before QueCorp’s ship realizes what we’ve done.”
Fenn studied the tears in her eyes. “If we jump down that hole, that crew will be right behind us.” He didn’t bother telling her how furious they’d be that they lost one of their crew to her cave-in. She knew vengeance as well as anyone.
“We stay.” She looked away from him. “We stop them from following the hostages, and Gavyn and Nazra will save them, ruin Waller’s schemes, and free six powerful new enemies against QueCorp.”
“And where are we in this plan?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “In this dream, I think we don’t wake up.”
He’d fought unquestioningly for Nazra, and he’d do the same for her.
He leaned in once more, and this time the kiss was achingly gentle. Maybe Boss Kemet had never trusted his judgment any more than he had himself, but despite Jashanna’s tears, he imagined many more chances ahead of them—even if the one hole he saw ahead seemed impossibly small.
“There’s a trick,” he said, “we used at home to keep the goats out of the silos during harvest. Used the same trick with my gang to keep law enforcement from following us into our bolt holes.”
She stared at him. “Goats and the law.”
“Not so different, going where they’re not wanted. You’d be surprised.” When she grumbled under her breath about surprises, he grinned at her. “Just be ready to get those caskets down the chute. That crew isn’t going to give us much of a chance.”
Frowning, she did as he ordered. “What are you—?”
Her voice vanished in a deafening boom, as the rear of the runabout lifted in the force of the explosion. A strident screech tearing through the cabin prevented any reply. A spray of sparks searing across the viewport—not to mention the sudden drag on the controls—warned him they’d lost a track. The cycles were too small and light to carry a laser cannon, but they’d still be armed well past anything he’d brought.
But this time he had big and hard.
Wrenching on the controls, he veered into the faltering track. The treads caught on the remains of the conveyor rails, and the runabout rocked, skidding sideways and tipping—
Jashanna reached for him, but before her hand landed, the runabout slammed into the end of the tunnel, wedging tight into the narrow shaft, balanced on its busted track at a sharp angle. Overriding the AI’s maintenance protocols, he spun the remaining track until it screamed, chewing deep into the wall as the treads shattered.
They wouldn’t be going anywhere from here.
But neither would the invaders get easily past the spontaneous blockade.
He locked the control—leaving the last track spraying debris in all directions—while he hauled Jashanna out of her seat. The precarious slant of the decking made her slip into his arms.
“Go,” he yelled over the howl of the runabout’s dying engine. “The hatch will open right at the chute. I’ll keep our friends busy.”
Even as he handed her into the hold, she glanced back at him. “How?”
He drew his pistol. “Just need to convince them to stay back long enough.”
She jerked her chin back. “If you can shoot at them, they can shoot at you.”
“I’ll be hiding behind this.” He patted the bulkhead.
“Fenn—”
“This is our chance,” he reminded her as he tossed her the transponder beacon.
When she thrust open the bent hatch, he was almost grateful for the mechanical shrieking and choking dust so he didn’t have to say anything else. For a disjointed moment, the cacophony seemed to emanate from the gaping black mouth of the chute. The hole, a couple meters wide, was only a little off center from where they’d landed. Well, he’d steered as best he could, considering the circumstances. A cold wind whistled up from the mouth.
After one last, furious glance over her shoulder at him, she started ripping the tiedowns from the cryo units and sliding them toward the open chute. Even she struggled against the weight and the awkward angle. The first casket slipped loose and slammed into the bulkhead, but the beacon she’d affixed to the front held fast. She swore as she wrestled the heavy box toward the exit.
Just as well the poor sleepers had no idea what was happening.
As the runabout’s power overloaded, the lights guttered and flared. In the confusion, he wedged himself past the hatch and dropped to the ground. Tipped at a sharp angle on its motionless, ruined track, the veh
icle made a decent rampart.
He wriggled under the belly of the hull, peering through the whipping fragments of the remaining track. A rather impressive defense, if he did say so.
Anyway, it was keeping the attackers well back. But the piercing lights of their cycles shone down the tunnel, blinding him. They weren’t miners, they likely wouldn’t know why Jashanna had led them here, but they’d been tasked with retrieving the hostages so they wouldn’t wait to move in.
Aiming through the disintegrating track, he squeezed off a single short shot. One of the lights went out.
They should at least think twice before moving in.
Scooting back, he peered past the hatch to check on Jashanna. She was just tipping one of the stasis units down the chute.
His gut dropped even though he wasn’t the one in the casket. When she saw him, she held up her hand, three fingers extended. Three down or three to go? Either way.
He returned to his low watch under the runabout.
The lights hadn’t come any closer, which was a worry. He didn’t want them planning. Maybe another shot—
With a last screech, the remaining track tore itself to shreds and whipped loose from the chassis. He flinched back as shards of metal pinged around him. Maybe he wouldn’t have to wait to get shot…
An ominous silence settled in place of what seemed like a lifetime of screaming. Not an improvement, he decided.
“Convicts!”
He flinched at the amplified call coming from down the tunnel. Yes, he was a convict. Perhaps so was Jashanna. But it seemed an unfair accusation, considering.
“Return the cryo units—with the occupants—and you will be allowed to leave.”
Boss Kemet would’ve appreciated the specificity of including the occupants. These were clearly professionals.
Couldn’t help but notice they hadn’t specified in what condition he and Jash would be allowed to leave… An oversight, no doubt.
“You have no escape.”
Experts in invading and intimidating, perhaps. But not in hardrock mining.