Riley Vance pressed her forehead against the cage bars and counted guards. Six weeks ago she had built a gun from scrap on a dying station and kept a written list of every part. Now the gun was gone, her wrists were locked in glowing blue shackles, and the man she'd trusted to watch her back was sitting behind her telling her to stop moving. "Riley." Mendez's voice was low. His military fatigues were stiff with dried blood at the shoulder. He kept his goatee tipped down, eyes on the dirt. "Sit. Breathe. Don't give them a reason." "They don't need a reason." She kept counting. The cage was wood braced with iron, the joints humming faint blue where the Vael tech ran through the frame. Outside, a tunnel mouth glowed the same color. Small purple scouts hauled ore carts in and out. Their tails dragged lines in the sand. "Someone will come," Mendez said. "No one's coming." She said it flat, so he'd hear she meant it. Their group at the fortress didn't know where they were. Emmy was gone. The jeep was a wreck in a dry wash miles back. "It's us or nothing." He finally looked up. "You fire that homemade piece one time and think you're ready for this?" "It worked." "Mostly." She almost smiled. Then the ground shook and she didn't. The overseer came out of the tunnel. He was twice the size of the scouts, purple plates layered like armor down his chest, one antenna curling from his forehead, a tail thick as her leg. Commander Urig. She'd heard a scout hiss the name before they threw her in. When he stepped into the yard, every other Vael froze mid-motion, then bent lower over their work. One dropped a pick and scrambled to pick it up before Urig turned his head. Riley watched that. She watched it hard. "See him?" she whispered. "They're scared of him. Not us. Him." "So?" "So they don't think for themselves. He goes down, they scatter, or they stall. Either way we get a window." Mendez shook his head. "Riley. No." Urig walked the line of cages. He stopped at theirs. His yellow eyes moved over Mendez, then settled on Riley. He tapped one claw against the lock. The blue light in the frame pulsed brighter, then dimmed. He said something in a clicking tongue to a scout, and the scout ran. When he moved on, Riley let out the breath she'd been holding. "He marked us," Mendez said quietly. "Good." Riley shifted her wrists inside the shackles. The cuff on her left was loose. A hairline of give, maybe the width of a fingernail. She'd felt it when Urig tapped the lock. Something in the tech had flickered. She looked at Mendez. "We're not waiting for a rescue. We're going tonight."

Riley worked the loose shackle until her wrist bled. The blue cuff flickered but held. She twisted, pulled, wedged her thumb flat against her palm, and yanked. Nothing. The metal caught on the joint of her hand and stayed there. "Stop," Mendez said. "You're going to break your hand." "Then I break it." She pulled again. The cuff cut deeper. She hissed and sat back against the wooden slats. Sweat ran down her neck. The cage frame hummed its low blue note. Across the yard, Vael scouts moved carts of ore in and out of the tunnel mouth. Her window was closing. It was almost dark. She was about to try once more when a horn blew from the tunnel. Commander Urig came out fast. His tail lashed the dirt. He barked clicks at the scouts, and one dropped its cart and scrambled to line up. Urig pointed east, toward the ridge where the sinkholes smoked at night. He barked again. Half the yard moved at once. Scouts grabbed spears and ran. Two of them nearly collided at the tunnel gate. "Something's wrong out there," Mendez whispered. "Something's right," Riley said. A scout closest to their cage fumbled its belt as it ran. A small humming panel slipped free and hit the dirt three feet from the bars. The scout didn't stop. It kept going with the others. Riley dropped flat. She reached her bound hands through the bars and stretched. The loose cuff gave her just enough slack. Her fingers closed on the panel. She pulled it in. The panel hummed against her palm. Little symbols glowed along one edge. She didn't know what any of them meant. She pressed the one closest to the lock's color. The panel chirped. Nothing changed. She pressed the next. Her shackles died in her lap. The blue light on the cage lock winked out. So did every other lock in the row. Mendez stared at her. "Riley." "Go." She shoved the door. It swung. Down the line, other prisoners were already spilling out. A scout turned and shrieked. Another prisoner tackled it. Ore carts tipped. Someone screamed in a language she didn't know. Riley grabbed Mendez by the sleeve and pulled him low along the cage wall. They kept the wooden frames between themselves and the yard. She could see the gap in the fence where the carts came through. Twenty feet. Ten. A shadow fell across them. Urig stood at the gap. His yellow eyes found her first. His antenna twitched. His tail curled behind him like a drawn whip. Riley stopped. Mendez raised the panel in his fist like it was a rock. "Down," she said, and shoved him sideways behind a cart as Urig's claw came up.

Riley hit the dirt behind the cart. Mendez rolled beside her. The panel skittered from his hand and cracked against a rail. Its blue light died. Above them, Commander Urig's tail sliced the air where their heads had been a second before. "Gun's gone," Mendez said. He patted his belt like it might reappear. It didn't. The scouts had taken her makeshift piece the day they were caged. She had built it herself. She had listed every screw. Now it sat somewhere inside the mine and she had her hands. She looked around. Ore rails ran past them into the dark mouth of the tunnel. Chunks of broken stone lay along the tracks. A length of splintered timber leaned against the cart, cracked at one end. "Rocks," she whispered. "Get a rock. I'll take the wood." Mendez grabbed a fist-sized stone in each hand. Riley pulled the timber free. It was heavier than it looked. Urig came around the cart low, antenna twitching, tail curled. Mendez threw. The first rock hit Urig's shoulder plate and bounced. The second caught the side of his head. Urig hissed and lunged. Riley swung the timber two-handed at his knee. It connected. Urig staggered. She swung again and the wood split against his ribs. His claw came down and raked her arm. Blood ran fast to her elbow. She stumbled back. Mendez charged in with the last rock and drove it into Urig's jaw. Urig's head snapped sideways. "Together," Riley said. She lifted the broken timber. Mendez raised his fists. They rushed him at the same time, one high, one low. Urig's tail whipped. It caught Riley across the stomach and threw her ten feet. She landed on her back in the dirt. The air left her. She couldn't move her legs. She turned her head. Mendez was still up. He had both hands locked around Urig's wrist. He was shouting something, teeth bared, boots dug in. Urig lifted him off the ground like he weighed nothing. "Mendez," Riley said. It came out as almost nothing. Urig's other claw drove clean through Mendez's chest. Mendez's shout stopped. His hands slid off Urig's wrist. Urig let him drop. Mendez fell in a heap on the rails and did not move again. Riley couldn't breathe. She stared at his boot, still twitching, then still. She had built the gun for both of them. He was supposed to be with her when they walked out. Urig turned his yellow eyes on her. Shouts rose from the yard. More prisoners were breaking through the fence gap. A scout screamed. Urig's antenna flicked toward the noise. He looked at Riley, then at the running prisoners, then back. He chose the crowd. His tail dragged a line in the dirt as he ran. Riley rolled onto her side. She crawled to Mendez. She put her hand on his chest. Nothing moved under it. She took the panel from the ground beside him, tucked it into her waistband, and dragged herself toward the tunnel mouth.

Riley reached the tunnel mouth and stopped. She looked back once. Mendez lay where he had fallen. She could see the shape of his boots on the rails. He had been with her from the first night at the fortress, through the crash, through the cage. She had built the gun for both of them. She wiped her face with the back of her bloody arm and went into the dark. The mine ran cold. Blue Vael lamps guttered along the walls. She followed the rails past empty carts to a side chamber where the scouts had stripped the prisoners. Her gun sat on a shelf inside a lockbox with a glass front. A small red light burned on the lid. She pulled the panel from her waistband. Its screen was cracked but the switches still moved. She pressed the same key sequence she had used on the shackles. The red light on the box flickered and died. She lifted the lid and took the gun. The barrel was cold. The taped grip fit her hand the way she remembered. She checked the chamber. One shot loaded. One shot was enough. She walked back out into the yard. Urig stood over a fallen prisoner near the fence gap, tail lashing, claws wet. His antenna snapped toward her as she came into the light. "Urig." He turned. She raised the gun and fired. The shot cracked. It punched into his shoulder plate and spun him a quarter turn. It did not drop him. She worked the bolt. Nothing chambered. The homemade feed had jammed. Urig came at her fast. She swung the gun like a club. He caught it and tore it from her hands. He hit her across the face with the back of his claw. She went down on one knee. He kicked her flat. Her ribs cracked. She tasted dirt. He stood over her and lifted his claw the same way he had lifted it over Mendez. Riley looked up at him. She did not close her eyes. A blast of green light hit Urig in the chest. It went through him. Purple fluid sprayed the dirt. He staggered, looked down at the hole, and dropped sideways. His tail thumped the ground once and went still. Riley rolled onto her side. A young man stood ten feet behind her with a long alien rifle braced against his shoulder. Light brown dreadlocks. Bare feet. Broken blue shackles still clamped around his wrists, dark now. She had seen him in the far cage. He had never spoken to her. He lowered the weapon and offered his hand. "Let's go," he said. Riley took his hand. He pulled her up. Her ribs screamed. She looked once at Mendez on the rails, then at the fence gap and the open desert past it. She followed the stranger with the alien gun out through the fence.

Riley followed the stranger through the fence gap and out into the desert. Her ribs burned with each step. Behind them, the mine yard still rang with shouts and blaster fire. He kept low along a line of rocks and waved her after him. She went. They cleared the last of the camp lights before he spoke. "Tevin," he said. He tapped his own chest once. The broken blue shackles still hung from his wrists, dark now. "When the cages opened, I ran for their armory first." He pulled a short alien pistol from the back of his shorts and pressed it into her hand. It was warm. A green bead glowed on the side. "Point and squeeze," he said. "It kicks less than it looks." Riley closed her fingers around it. Her own gun was gone, left in the dirt by Urig's body. This one felt wrong in her hand, but it worked. That was enough. "Path out is up the slope," Tevin said. He pointed with the rifle. A thin trail cut between two ridges of red rock. "Scouts will sweep the flats first. We climb." They climbed. The sand slid under Riley's boots. Every breath scraped her ribs. Tevin stayed a step ahead, bare feet quiet on the stone. He did not look back to see if she kept up. He trusted she would. Halfway up they heard voices ahead. Two of them. Low and moving. Riley froze against the rock. Tevin dropped to a knee and raised the rifle. She lifted the alien pistol with both hands. The green bead pulsed. The path curved around a weathered stone arch, a natural tunnel cut clean through the rock. Whoever was there stood just on the other side. Riley heard boots. A cough. Something metal clicking against a belt. She stepped around the arch with the pistol up. Two figures stood in the trail. A woman with huge stained glass wings folded tight at her back, colored shards catching the last light. Beside her, a short man in dusty clothes, a red-lit Vael rig strapped across his mouth. Both had weapons raised. Both froze. "Don't shoot!" Riley shouted. "Don't shoot, don't shoot." The woman lowered her arm first. "Riley." Riley dropped the pistol into the sand and crossed the gap and threw her arms around Elina hard enough to knock the wind out of both of them. The glass edges of the wings pressed cold against her hands. She grabbed Harlen with the other arm and pulled him in too. He grunted through the mask. "Mendez," Elina said. Not a question. Riley shook her head against her shoulder. She could not say it. Elina held her a moment longer. Then she stepped back and looked past her at Tevin, at the shackles, at the rifle. "Who." "Tevin," Riley said. "He's with me." Elina nodded once. "Move. They'll come up this path next."