Page 29 of Fated to the Dragon Alien
Darven’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s hope they stay that way.”
“They will. I’ve extended this facility’s output four cycles beyond expectation,” Stavian said. “What I choose to prioritize is not up for discussion.”
Darven nodded once. “Understood.”
Stavian held his stare for another second, then turned to take a slow breath. He’d been careful with reports. With codes. Even with meetings.
But Darven knew.
“I will report those upgrades as yours, Controller,” Darven said. “But you had better keep this mine off Central’s radar. Keep making quota. Keep the prisoners in line. Keep usoffthe network chatter.” He turned and walked back toward the upper ramp. “And, Controller,” Darven said over his shoulder. “Terians were involved in those incidents, too. Every one of them. So, watch yourself with 630-I. See that she’s not the downfall of us all.”
Stavian didn’t move. Everything inside him locked up—muscle, breath, reason. “Noted. Dismissed, Darven.”
Terians were involved in the incidents too? Cerani was the only one he’d seen in the system, but she’d been taken with fourothers, and it was likely they were the ones involved. He hadn’t heard about it because Central chose what he knew and didn’t know. Central kept the Terians buried behind locked files like a secret they hoped the universe would forget.
The rebellion at Vexis 112-1 through 112-4. The Slarik Arena. The brothel. What if those weren’t random outbursts? What if they weren’t failures at all?
What if they were signals?
He picked up the data tablet Cerani had used. He needed to destroy it. Stavian started walking. Fast. Each step echoed, boots heavy on the metal floor. Docking personnel cleared before he passed. No one spoke.
Darven was right about one thing. Central was paying attention.
And everything in Stavian’s gut said someone at the top already suspected he was contaminated. Tainted. No longer loyal.
They were watching him. Watching Cerani. She wouldn’t survive an extraction.
His jaw clenched. Central wouldn’t see her brilliance. They wouldn’t care how flawlessly she adapted, how her plans had saved miners in the last ten cycles. They’d burn her out of existence just to hide what she was.
Too strong. Too smart. Too dangerous.
He turned the data tablet over in his hand—her repair notes, the sketches she’d drawn on her own break time. The ideas that he should have purged after implementation, but just couldn’t bring himself to destroy.
Darven saw the truth. Eventually, others would too.
Cerani had warned him. She’d said that whatever this was between them didn’t matter in a place like this. Said the system would destroy it. She was right.
If they stayed like this, if she kept pretending they could keep their distance and he kept pretending he still played by Axis rules…
It would end the way all dead systems ended. With collapse.
He was done pretending. If the foundation was cracking in places no one wanted to see, it was because it had been broken from the beginning.
He stopped at the lift and scanned his wrist panel. The lift doors opened, but dust billowed from them, or rather, from around them. The floor groaned under his feet as the surface shuddered ominously.
The walls shook first. A low metal whine, deep and slow, rolled through the floor like pressure in the ground had shifted from wrong to worse. A tremor hit hard, pitching the corridor sideways. His wings flared out for balance, knocking against the lift frame. Lights dimmed, then flared harshly back on.
Stavian braced one arm against the wall. “System status—report,” he said too fast.
His wrist panel flickered. One alert pinged. Then another. And another.
His panel lit up with alerts. SECTOR E: STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY FAILURE. SHAFT DAMAGE. MINER STATUS UNKNOWN.
SECTOR D: PARTIAL BREACH. MINER STATUS: SEVEN INJURIES. NO KNOWN FATALITIES.
SECTOR F: PRESSURE DROP DETECTED. FULL COLLAPSE. UNOCCUPIED.
Two of the sectors had sublevels, storage runs, mining scaffolds—and people.
