Marcus peered out of the window of their small hopper as it approached the outermost ring on the Forge. He wondered again how his life had led to this moment. Before him sat arguably the most impressive achievement man had ever created, a greater technical challenge than even the first gates that had lead humanity out of the Solar System. Those gates harnessed wormholes to travel across the Arm, but what the Alliance had done here was unthinkable. They had harnessed all the power of a black hole into a weapon.

The Forge appeared as though the very station itself was aware of that significance. It was meticulously constructed, with sleek lines and long arcing view ports around the rings which Marcus recognised as a particle collider, but on a far greater scale than the one on Sorrel Bank. Great spokes sat between the outer and inner rings, and the core. The data from Sorrel Bank had given some indication of how the Forge operated. Marcus tried and failed to imagine this installation moving the frozen particle collisions to the central core to be trapped in the warheads that would become the gravity bombs.

The cost and time required to construct this station in this unforgiving environment was incomprehensible. And yet here he sat, part of a force about to break into it.

"Are you sure you're OK to do this Marcus?" Bronikowski's voice crackled through the helmet radio.

"I'm the expert here. I know what I'm looking for and it's easier for me to do it myself than try to teach you all." It wasn't just that. This was the point he stopped being a passenger and started trying to help Caxis, and Sophia with it. Besides, it was too late to back down anyway, and that terrified him.

"I'll look out for you, don't worry." Hamasa slapped his shoulder. That actually comforted Marcus.

Even though the hopper was designed for four people, five of them sat crammed in with their suits and equipment which made it a tight fit. It wasn't standard practice to wear vacuum suits while using a hopper, but the plan that Hamasa had cooked up meant they had to take precautions. Hamasa sat next to him, with two other officers sitting almost nose to nose with them--Jenkins and Waller from the assault on the Phoenix Rises--with Bronikowski up front piloting the hopper. Marcus felt the nervousness pulsing through the hopper, almost tangible in such a cramped space. He wondered whether this is how they felt when they had boarded the Phoenix Rises.

From where Marcus sat he could see that the small ships from the initial assault had spread all around the outer ring. The bulk of the forces from the three remaining larger insurgent vessels, the Vengeance included, were focused on the central core, except for their hopper. They had another task.

"Everyone is in position," Bronikowski said. "I'm marking the mission start time. Signalling go... now."

Almost a hundred flared engines sprang into life across the Forge as the insurgent ships moved in. The Forge may now have been vulnerable from space, but inside, the facility would be well guarded. Thankfully, Hamasa had a way to even the odds. "Approaching the hull now," she said. "Get ready." She raised her rifle with one hand as she undid her restraints. She leaned forward to read a panel next to the hatch. "Seal looks good. Starting the cutting now."

A high pitch whine filled the cabin as the beams on the hatch of the hopper started slicing into the hull. Marcus instinctively put his hands to his ears, but he hit his helmet and realised he needed to use the volume control on the suit. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but he could have sworn that he smelt burning.

Minutes went by and Marcus tried to stop himself thinking about what lay beyond the hopper and the risk that he could very well die when they stepped out. To occupy him he ran through the plan in his head and checked again that his tablet was still inside a pocket in his armour. It was, so he went back to waiting.

The whine stopped. "We're through Hamasa said.

"This is it." Bronikowski took a deep breath. "Lights are green across the board, giving the order to detach seal... now."

The hopper shuddered as the air from the Forge flew out into the vacuum of space, but after a few nervous moments the shaking stopped. The hopper had held firm on the outside of the hull.

"Pop the hatch, Hamasa," Bronikowski said.

Hamasa did as she was told and tapped the panel twice, and the hatch slid open. She cambered through the smoldering opening left behind by the beams, which was about twenty centimetres thick of outer hull before a slight gap and another twenty centimetres of inner hull.

Marcus held his breath, but he couldn't hear the telltale sound of beam rifles being fired. It was a stupid thing to worry about, but that wasn't any comfort.

"Clear," Hamasa called back. "It's a bit of a state, but the plan seems to have worked."

Waller motioned at Marcus to follow out through the hatch. He obliged reluctantly and tried not to spend too much time touching the hot edges of the cuts. Upon leaving the hopper, he was greeted with the familiar sterile and shining corridors of an Alliance vessel, only these were more pristine.

That was if you ignored the flash-frozen bodies stuck against the wall near the hatch.

Marcus swore, tried to back away but tripped over his own feet in the bulky suit. He fell to the floor.

Hamasa laughed. "Don't know why this is a surprise, Marcus." She held out a hand to help him up.

"I know, it's just a shock." He steadied himself and picked up the rifle he had dropped. "Why didn't they expect us doing that?"

"When have the Alliance ever had to defend anything?" Hamasa scoffed. "We wrote the rules on taking ships and stations--it's much easier if you don't want to keep anyone alive."

Marcus felt a chill go down his spine. This was Hamasa as the Whisper, and he could understand why Allison trusted her with this operation.

"Which way?" Bronikowski said after climbing through the hatch, rifle held at her shoulder.

"The hanger was clockwise from here as we flew in, so this way." Jenkins pointed down the corridor on their left.

"Let's make this quick then." Bronikowski set off at a jog.

Given the corridor was on the outer extremity of the Forge, viewports interspersed the corridor which showed the greenish hue of Phayao. Marcus tried not to pay too much attention to them and instead focused on the intersections they passed to watch for anyone that might come for them. All he saw was more bodies, most in the outer ring, but some who had clung on to bulkheads to keep from being sucked out, looks of terror frozen onto their faces. He tried not to look at them.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

It didn't take them long to come across a terminal set into the bulkhead. Hamasa gave a shout of triumph and accessed the machine, muttering to herself as she scanned through its contents.

"Anything?" Bronikowski approached her while keeping her rifle and sight trained along the corridor behind them.

"We're not far." Hamasa stepped to the side to allow Bronikowski a look at whatever was on the screen.

She stood there for a moment in silence. "Should be okay," she said. "Let's go."

At the next junction, Hamasa pulled up. "It's funny," she started. Marcus couldn't think of anything more unfunny than the situation they were in. "If we head right, we'll be coming up on the labs in the next ring. To think that the bomb was made here. It's a significant thing, Marcus. You should always stop and appreciate the special things."

"We don't have time for this." Bronikowski barged past her and stayed on their path on the edge of the ring.

"Are you sure you don't want to try to steal the information on how to build a gravity bomb?" Hamsa called after. "After all, that's what the Alliance think we're actually doing."

"For the last time, no!" Bronikowski called back.

Hamasa gave a theatrical sigh and hurried after her.

Marcus didn't understand Hamasa's enthusiasm. A kind of existential terror had been growing within him ever since they entered the system, and now his entire body screamed that everything about this place was wrong.

With luck, the rest of the Alliance forces on this station would be holed up somewhere or dead, and there would be a clear run to their destination. That was all that mattered now--getting what they came for and getting out alive. Marcus started repeating Sophia's name around and around in his head to keep him grounded on that thought. They didn't come across any opposition until they made it all the way to their target. As they approached the corridor that led towards the hanger control centre, Bronikowski motioned for them to slow down and approach quietly.

Marcus' heart pounded hard against his chest and he worried the noise was audible in the near silent passageway. Stupid. The suit will cover it. That did nothing to calm his nerves.

Bronikowski crept up to the edge of the corridor and risked a glance around to see what lay ahead of them. A volley of beam fire greeted her. She swore under her breath. "There's at least five of them holed up by the entrance to the hanger in vac-suits. It's a death trap." She tapped her wrist. "The timing should still work."

Marcus did the same and the mission timer appeared over his vision. 8:31 elapsed and counting. He knew that the first diversion, whatever it was, was occurring at 11 minutes so they didn't have long to wait.

Bronikowski pointed at Hamasa and motioned to the far side of the entrance to the corridor. With a nod, Hamasa took a few steps back and sprinted towards the opening and tucked herself into a roll to cross the kill zone. Tendrils of light reached out to her, but she was moving too fast and the beams passed behind her and into the wall opposite. Hamasa came to a halt and straightened herself up before taking up the opposite position to Bronikowski, waiting for what was to come. Jenkins followed her, albeit without as much flair, and now four rifles targeted the Alliance officers.

Marcus held his breath, but after almost a minute of doing so he had to gasp air in.

The timer hit 11:00.

The station rocked, and he had to reach a hand out to the wall to steady himself. A sense of terror gripped him through the violent movements. He knew that Hamasa had planned them, but he was still convinced the station was about to tear itself apart.

At last, the shaking stopped. Bronikowski and Hamasa were already up and taking shots down the corridor, with Jenkins and Waller not long behind. A volley of beams shot back at them, forcing them all to duck behind the edge of the corridor, panting. "Two down, so another volley should do it," Bronikowski said. "On three--one, two..."

Three. All four fired in unison, then things were still.

"Let's go." Bronikowski jogged around the corner and up to the hatch that the now dead Alliance officers had been guarding. "Can you help me with this? The damn thing's stuck."

Jenkins and Hamasa ran forward to help pull at it, while Waller fired his rifle from close range at the lock to melt it. Eventually the hatch shifted, sending Jenkins sprawling to the deck, but Marcus didn't notice. His eyes were firmly on what lay beyond.

What once had been a hanger, now stood scarred and deformed beyond all recognition. Blackened shells of burnt out ships were scattered around, their fires put out by the vented atmosphere. Lines from the beams fired into the hanger dissected the melted, burnt deck plates. The walls were mostly untouched as planned, but the heat had left its mark, discolouring and even melting the bottom.

It was as if the entire room had been set ablaze for days and left to burn. But it hadn't been days, it had been one volley of the vulture-like vessel that now hovered just outside the entrance to the hanger. The heat of the buckled deck even came through the soles of his insulated boots. At least, he thought, there were no bodies to see this time. If anyone had been in the hanger when the field dropped they were either burnt to a crisp or lost to the clouds of Phayao.

"Don't just stand there gawping, get moving." Waller pushed him in the back and through the hatch.

"Doesn't seem like anyone's home," Hamasa gave a charred piece of metal a kick and it bounded across the hanger.

"Make sure you've got your magnetic soles activated--the gravity might cut off if things go to plan," Bronikowski said.

Marcus saw movement on the other side of the hanger. "Look out!" He raised his rifle.

Jenkins came over and shoved it downwards. "They're with us. Check your HUD."

Embarrassed, Marcus realised that he was right--a 'friend' marker flashed above the figures making their way through the smoldering remains.

"They're here to help us search." Waller appeared at Marcus' right.

"That's right, spread out and look." Bronikowski headed off towards the far wall.

Marcus followed Hamasa as she searched up the side of the hanger that they had entered. She found another stuck hatch, but with Marcus' help it shifted and revealed another corridor beyond, this one undamaged from the barrage.

Hamasa shrugged at him and headed in. The corridor had a curve to it, but just at the point it bent out of view there stood a lone ladder. Intrigued, he climbed up it, not thinking what he was doing. He came into the back of a room filled with consoles and screens showing all manner of readouts, most flashing red.

What he didn't notice was the technician hiding in the corner. When Marcus got to his feet, he caught movement in the corner of his vision and turned just in time to see the suited figure running at him.

With a strangled cry, Marcus instinctively raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. His aim was terrible, the shot only glanced the shoulder of the figure running towards him, but it was enough to cause them to miss. The figure stumbled and crashed to the floor

He dropped his rifle, shocked that he had shot someone, but more shocked that his terrible aim had killed them. Then he saw the thin mist of gas escaping from the damaged suit, the figure scrambling to cover the leak with their other hand.

What do I do? I can't kill them, but I can't leave--

There was a flash of light, and the figure was still. Hamasa had shot them in the head.

"Come on Marcus, don't leave them living." She patted the top of his helmet.

Keep it together. They're counting on you.

"Excellent job on finding the control room though," Hamasa continued. "Let me call Napia, you'd better get looking."

Take a deep breath. You've got this. Marcus swallowed and went from console to console to find the records he needed. On the third one he checked, he found it. Marcus sat down at the console and got to work. First, he loaded the firmware to help him get past the login. Once the new front end was on the system, he started preparing a search for the parameters he needed, but just as he was settling into his task, Bronikowski burst in.

"We've got a problem," she said

"What?" Hamasa asked.

"Alliance forces have entered the system," Bronikowski said. "We need to evacuate. How much longer do you need?" She said to Marcus.

"Another 20 minutes at least, nothing can speed it up." How had they come so far only to fail now?

"Well..." Bronikowski seemed lost for words. "Just go as fast as you can."

She dropped back down the ladder, leaving Hamasa behind with Marcus. All they could do was watch the console as his task completed. He willed the progress bar to move faster, but it just continued to move at a snail's pace.

We're in trouble.