They’d emerged in circa the middle of the old poor town. It had consisted of a combination of plopped-down prefab houses and old maintenance buildings, connected via sealed walkways and underground tunnels. The planet’s elements had had decades to wear away at it all, as had scavengers looking for things to sell, and no few roofs had collapsed.

“Good place for a ghost story...” Ayna muttered as they walked among it all.

It was late enough in the day that she didn’t bother with the dark glasses, but still light enough for the rest of them to see Chukata’s fascinatingly bleak landscape.

“It really does look like Hell,” Herdis said, gazing to their left as they walked. “As some religions describe it.”

“The World of Fire and Fumes,” Kiris quoted. “Heh. Yes, I had some nasty missionary from the Holy Union threaten me with it, in between calling me a harlot.”

“Was that due to you being a Chanei or just a woman?” Herdis asked.

“Both, probably.”

“Ah, those people,” Jaquan said.

“He was very annoying,” Kiris said. “Young and full of righteous vigour. A day later I had some time to spare, so I broke into their temple outpost in the night, took off all my clothes and lay down next to him in his bed while he slept. His superiors did not like that find in the morning.”

Ayna guffawed, Bers chuckled, and Gaylen grinned. He hadn’t heard that story.

“That’s... petty,” Herdis said, although through a smile.

“He was extra annoying,” Kiris said.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t good. What happened to that guy?”

“In private, probably a whole lot. Officially, nothing. The priests of the All-God do not succumb to sin, haven’t you heard?”

“Oh, I have heard so very much about those fellows,” Gaylen said.

They passed beneath an overhanging maintenance bridge, and across a walkway over onto another platform. The atmosphere slowly picked away at Gaylen, shortening his breath and stinging his eyes. He would really savour today’s shower, brief though it had to be.

“I don’t want to whine, but... are we close?” Herdis asked.

“We’re about halfway there,” Gaylen said after consulting his inner map and memories of this place.

“So what do we do after all this?” Ayna asked.

“We take a leap to the nearest intersection of multiple lanes, then take another one from there, just in case of pursuit. Jaquan will work his magic on the engine, we’ll let it cool for a while as intended, and then we fly off properly.”

“Where to, though?” the Dwyyk said. “Aren’t you going to share that already?”

“Not yet,” he said and looked over his shoulder at her. “Not just yet.”

“People ahead.”

The Dwyyk’s cheerful countenance vanished in an instant, replaced by alertness.

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Gaylen whipped around. Ahead of them, among a mess of beams and walkways, was another overhanging bridge. He caught sight of a figure ducking down below the rail, then a flicker of movement to the right, nearer to the mountainside.

Gaylen darted to the side. His nearest cover was a half-standing ceramic wall, and he crouched behind it. The others sprang into action as well; Bers joined him, Kiris lay down by debris of some sort, Herdis stepped into a doorway, and Jaquan and Ayna made for some stripped machinery by the edge of the platform.

Keep calm and survive.

“You like insulting me, Gaylen!” Eldin shouted. “But you walked right into this one! What does one do when the dock entrances are being watched? This!”

Gaylen clenched his teeth together. Of course it was. But who was Eldin to suddenly come up with something clever?

“I owe you pain!” the Brecke Brown boss went on from his spot in the centre of the bridge. “And effort! And money!”

Gaylen assessed the state of his crew. Herdis risked a peek out of her doorway and at the bridge, then looked to him and held up five fingers. Then she gave him a signal he understood to mean ‘at least’. Bers took out his pistol with one hand and the knife with the other, and dug the tip of the blade into his own scalp. A line of blood slid down the side of his face, and the man’s features hardened into animal ferocity. Gaylen hoped he wasn’t about to vault the wall and charge.

“It’s time to pay up, Gaylen!” Eldin went on, talking when he could be acting, as usual. “And it’s up to you how it goes!”

Crawling so as to stay hidden, Gaylen hurried over to the eastern wall. He peeked through a downward crack, at a mess of ruins and beyond them a bridge across to the next platform. And at least four hints of movement.

“Don’t you have anything at all to say, Gaylen?” Eldin asked. “Because I’ve got you covered from two sides, the third is just a drop, and the fourth is a nice little shooting gallery for me and the boys!”

Gaylen glanced back. He was right about the shooting gallery. There was no decent cover to be had for a bit of a stretch.

“Now either you hand over the damn cylinder, or walk with me to your ship and show me where you’ve stashed it!”

Bers made a long, low growling noise at the back of his throat and Gaylen saw the primal warrior that had taken an axe to those pirates.

“How about the rest of you?” Eldin asked. “Do you want to die for this man? I have some little surprises right here.”

Bombs. Eldin loved bombs about as much as he loved talking.

Gaylen signalled to Herdis, getting her attention.

“We’ll cover you!” he whispered. “Come on over! We’ll...”

A shot hit the ground between them, sending up a small, hissing cloud. Then another one came, then one hit the wall.

“What do you lot say?!” Eldin shouted as more plasma bolts streaked through the air.

Movement made Gaylen look upwards. He saw the grenade just before it went off in mid-air. It was a small incendiary, and far enough away to only cause a moment of searing heat on any exposed skin.

Gaylen poked out of cover and sure enough; there was Eldin out of his own cover, having thrown the grenade himself. He was in the process of ducking just as Gaylen squeezed the trigger and-

Everything burst. There was all almighty crack and a brutal blow, as if a god had just clapped its hands. Gaylen was thrown down like a rag doll and so was everyone else.

There was no heat, and no damage. Gaylen’s mind fought against confusion and identified what had just happened as a concussive bomb. And Eldin’s bunch hadn’t thrown it.

Down from the maintenance walkways leapt two people in full armour, complete with closed, blue-painted helmets. They landed on the bridge, out of Gaylen’s sight, but he heard the thum-thum of heavy rifles.

The Blue Strike mercenaries had arrived.

“We are claiming that cylinder!” shouted a man’s voice, harsh, grating and amplified by the helmet.

Gaylen pushed himself up and peered over the covering wall. Some of the Brecke Browns seemed to have been thrown off the bridge by the blast. Those remaining had already been cut down. Some pistol shots came from the ruins, targeting the mercs, and they fired right back, making ample use of their superior position.

Gaylen took a shot. The mercenaries were out of easy pistol range, but still he either hit the one with the officer’s pauldrons or struck close enough to make him flinch. The merc turned and Gaylen ducked back down, throwing himself flat. A blast hit the wall just above him. But it had come from his side of it.

He flipped over, leading with his pistol and caught sight of a single moving dot up in the higher walkways. He threw himself to the side, a moment before another blast hit the ground where he'd been.

“SNIPER!” he shouted and pressed himself against a half-standing pillar. “LET’S GO!”