Mining Station Alpha-Twenty-One, Twenty Kilometers Below
Lumiara, Survivor’s Refuge
4454.2.20 Interstellar
The sonar ping rang faintly throughout the hull of the mining rig. That was when the plan they’d come up with became much more complex. The faintness of the ping was because they’d used the station’s own navigation beacon to send a message to the Seraphine, and it was fifty-fifty whether the mutinous crew would interpret it as the inside job that it was or the faint sound of a distant sub. The fact they were miners, not sailors, made that somewhat unpredictable, compounded by the fact that Syn had taken the network down.
That meant there were about forty or more scared and isolated would-be pirates making hasty decisions on the rig.
If they thought the prisoners had broken out, they might come running with weapons blazing.
If they thought armed killers had boarded the station, they might run for the subs.
If they thought that survivalists, the Cult’s law enforcement, had come for them, they might run to hide behind the hostages, or try to silence them.
If they thought it was just a civilian ship coming to check on the station, they might take the supply sub and run.
Cutting off the network meant they might do all those things at once, forcing Janus’s team to defend the hostages until the Seraphine arrived with help, but at least that meant they wouldn’t come in a coordinated assault.
“I’ve got two coming up the stairwell!” Syn said over the comm.
“I’m on it!” Mick answered.
There were three ways to get to the ore bay where the prisoners were held: a corridor that led to Ore Bay Charlie and then the mining control station; a narrower passage to crew quarters, station admin, and the mess deck; and the stairs that led to down to engineering or up to the docks. Ivan was guarding the corridor because he was carrying an automatic shotgun, and Mick the stairwell since he had the best aim and reflexes. Janus had taken the passageway because crew still in the living area of the rig would be less likely to have protective gear, and because his gas grenades wouldn’t disperse as quickly in the tight spaces. That left Syn to monitor the security cameras, warn them of what was coming, and serve as backup if any of them got overwhelmed.
Clack, clack! The dry sound came from the stairwell. “Two miners hit, one shoulder and one kneecap,” Mick said. “They’re pulling back.”
Janus swallowed. They were mostly sure of what had happened on this station, but they weren’t sure. He’d wanted to ask the others to shoot to wound—there was a great deal Cult technology could help the injured recover from, including full limb restoration, but even the Cult of the Survivor hadn’t figured out how to bring back the dead. He hadn’t given the order, though. The captain’s speech about the survivor’s choice was still echoing in his mind, and while Janus might have risked his own life, he wasn’t willing to risk the life of his team.
Boom! Ivan’s shotgun barked. “Where was the warning on that one?” Ivan asked.
“I didn’t see them!” Syn said. “Janus, three coming your way!”
Janus leaned out from cover behind a stack of sheet metal and took aim just as a big, angry-looking miner carrying a pipe wrench stepped out of the door at the end of the passage. The miner’s eyebrows had just started to rise when Janus squeezed the trigger, his reflexes honed by the training against the exceptionalist cyborgs, and the fast-acting nerve agent dropped the paralyzed miner face first on the grating with a wet slap.
“What just happened?” someone said down the hallway.
Janus was already back behind cover.
“Three more, Ivan!” Syn said. “Some of the cameras on the rig aren’t working, so they might slip past me.”
Janus stepped out of cover and shot a miner trying to assist the fallen man—she fell back awkwardly, slumped against the wall—and he missed the second man, who managed to duck back behind the doorframe.
Boom! Boom, boom!
“Someone’s shooting at us!” the man behind the doorframe shouted. “They got Fred and Alma!”
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Things were only going to get more hectic from here. Janus counted maybe eight miners down, but there were close to eighty crew members on the rig, probably thirty to fifty on the supply sub—not counting the prisoners—and up to forty on the smaller pirate sub.
Clack, clack, clack! came the sound of Mick’s silenced carbine from the stairwell.
Janus peeked out and then immediately pulled back at the sight of a raised weapon. Boom! The miner’s shotgun filled the passageway with noise, and pellets scraped off Janus’s cover. Before the miners had a chance to rush him, Janus dropped into a crouch and popped out, pistol aimed. He shot the shotgun-wielding miner in the leg, and the man collapsed—it didn’t matter where the chem-rounds hit as long as the solution soaked through clothes to touch skin. He took a second and third shot at a pair of miners who were checking on his first victim, dropping one across the big man’s body and sending the other one scurrying away. A third man had retrieved a pistol from the crumpled woman to the side and shot at Janus, but his aim was off, and Janus dropped him as well. Janus pushed himself back into cover.
Boom!
Clack, clack! Clack, clack, clack!
Boom!
“Getting a little dicey in here!” Mick said, his voice tight.
“Fall back when you need to,” Janus said, trying to stay calm as he swapped magazines on the chem pistol.
“It’s some sort of tranq shot,” someone argued from the end of the passageway. “We should just rush him!”
“Why don’t you just tell him what we’re planning so he has time to prepare!” another miner answered sarcastically.
Janus grinned.
Clack, clack, clack, clack!
Janus popped out, and he’d already aimed and pulled the trigger before he registered what was coming at him. Six—no, five now. He fired again, three shots in quick succession, and then he had to sway back to avoid getting brained by a lead pipe.
“Janus?” Syn asked. “Are you okay?”
Janus ducked under the reverse swing of the pipe, aimed the pistol at the woman’s stomach, and fired. She collapsed against him, making him strain, even with his suit-enhanced strength.
“Raaaaaaah!” the miner behind yelled, trying to brain Janus with a pair of bolt cutters.
Janus pivoted, dumping the unconscious woman on the ground, and the bolt cutters caught him on the shoulder instead of the head. His shoulder popped painfully, and Janus winced but managed to keep hold of his chem pistol. He shot from the hip, dropping the man with the bolt cutters with two shots and the next woman with another, and then the chem-pistol clicked dry, and Janus was kicking, punching, and blocking, relying on the aspirant suit to give him the edge.
Clack, clack, clack, click! Mick came out of the stairwell and took down four miners with three shots before running out of ammo. At least five miners rushed in behind him, slamming him against the wall in a human wave while Janus retrieved and reloaded his pistol.
Blam, blam, blam! Syn had come to join them. She fired her pistol into the crowd, wounding some, and there were screams as two miners fell and scrambled away, clutching their wounds. Mick was able to shove the three people pressing him with the combined force of his suit and his cybernetic arm.
“Gas, gas, gas!” Janus said, triggering the four gas grenades he’d placed on a remote trigger, and the passageway filled with thick, greenish smoke.
There was a moment during which the only sounds were coughing and the whimper of the wounded, and then Mick stumbled out of the smokescreen.
Boom, boom, boom, boom! Ivan was firing his automatic shotgun as fast as he could pull the trigger. “They’re trying to flank us!”
Mick reloaded on the move, and Janus and Syn followed. The smoke from the grenades was already thinning. Their margin of survival was getting thinner by the minute.
Clack, clack! Mick fired and dropped two more miners.
Janus’s heart rose to his throat when he saw Ivan was down, bleeding from his side.
Clack! Blam!
Janus joined Syn and Mick in firing at the wave of miners trying to get to them from the direction of mining control. Ivan’s shotgun had already made a mess of those that had tried to swarm him, although Janus expected Mick had left a less bloody but no less fatal mess in the stairwell. The people Janus had hit with the paralytic would probably live unless they couldn’t breathe or choked on their vomit.
“Fall back!” Janus said, throwing Ivan’s arm over his shoulder to let the older man limp by his side.
The four of them fell back toward Ore Bay Delta, Janus shooting while Mick reloaded and Syn covered the now-clear passageway. A miner with a respirator shot at them from the stack of sheet metal Janus had hidden behind. Whatever panic had gripped them at the beginning, at least some of them were getting organized.
“Inside!” Mick said, throwing the door to the ore bay open. Syn stepped through, and then Janus and Ivan followed.
Clack clack clack! Mick fired three quick shots before stepping through and closing the door behind them, jamming the wheel with the same pipe they’d used to keep the supply sub crew inside.
The two-dozen sets of eyes of the supply ship crew stared at them in fright.
“You’ve gotten us all killed,” one of them said, their voice full of despair.
A loud clank came from the other side of the door.
“Everybody reload,” Mick said, swapping mags.
Janus helped Ivan sit down with his back to an ore bin. His uncle cradled the shotgun in his lap and grinned behind his visor. “Didn’t think I’d wind up like this again.”
“Again?” Janus asked.
Ivan smirked and rotated his palm to the ceiling in a half-shrug. “Don’t think I’ve ever run the Trials without getting a hole poked in me somewhere.”
Clang!
“Hold that thought,” Janus said, checking his chem-round magazine. “Everybody get down behind cover!” he said to the submarine crew, who went ducking behind the metal bins full of ore.
The wheel on the door started to turn slowly but unstoppably, bending the pipe. They must have some kind of hydraulic screw out there, Janus thought. He put his left shoulder behind a vertical i-beam and waited for the door to swing open for the final rush, but then, all of a sudden, there were plinking sounds like a newbie mechanic dropping a box of bolts on deck plates, and the door went still.
“Janus? Are you in there?” Lee shouted on the other side of the door.
The aspirants of the Seraphine had arrived.