Chapter 6 Into the Iron Vein

The ride to the Helix Ring began with a rattle. Celia gripped the edges of the old transit cart as it sped along a maintenance rail long forgotten by the world above. Rust groaned beneath them. Sparks occasionally leapt from exposed lines on the walls. The track curved sharply, and Lawrence, sitting across from her, had to grab the bench to avoid tumbling. "Remind me why we couldn't just parachute in like normal lunatics?" he asked. "Because," Celia said, keeping her voice steady, "that would be expected. This? This is very stupid.

Stupid is unpredictable." "Good to know your plan is grounded in philosophy." They passed a broken signal tower, then another. Each checkpoint was dark. No surveillance. Marek had done his part well. Celia checked her wrist-band interface. "We'll reach the access shaft in four minutes. Once we're in, you follow my lead. No detours. No heroics." she said! Lawrence leaned back. "No promises." She glared at him. "I mean, minimal heroics," he corrected with a half-smile. The cart screeched to a halt at the end of the line, slamming into a rusted bumper. They climbed off and entered the shaft-a narrow tunnel lined with old cables and humid air that clung to the skin like regret. "Here we go," Celia muttered, pulling down her visor. "Welcome to the bowels of your family empire." Lawrence ducked beneath a low-hanging pipe. "I always imagined the bowels would smell better." They crawled for twenty meters before reaching a hatch marked with faded Everen logos. Celia knelt, attached a pulse-drill to the locking mechanism, and watched as the bolts disintegrated in seconds. The door creaked open, revealing a crawlspace bathed in pulsing blue light. Below them: Sector V's core chamber. Celia's breath caught. The chamber was vast, cathedral-like in size, with translucent panels revealing the planetary grid stretching like veins beneath the surface. And in the center-suspended by electromagnetic fields-was the real prototype. It shimmered like a star in a cage, held in place by rotating rings of plasma and crystal. The room was empty save for a single patrolling drone and two guards far below, checking readings on their screens. Celia turned to Lawrence. "You said you knew the protocols." He nodded. "Guards swap in four minutes. Drone resets every ninety seconds. We drop in between the two." She smirked. "Guess you were paying attention after all." He raised a brow. "Didn't have a choice. My father drilled the Everen protocols into me before I learned how to tie my boots." Celia pulled the chip from her pouch and held it up. "You ready?" Lawrence hesitated, then nodded. She dropped first, landing silently on the curved walkway that circled the core. Lawrence followed, only stumbling a little. They stayed low, moved quickly. Celia reached the primary control panel and opened a side compartment. A tangle of color-coded wires and ports greeted her. She traced a line, inserted the chip, and waited for it to interface. Marek, we're in, she whispered through the comm. His voice crackled back. Signal received. Upload in progress. You've got 90 seconds before the reboot. Hold tight. Lawrence crouched beside her. "They'll know once it hits. He'll know." Celia glanced at him. "Good. Let him." A soft beep confirmed the upload. The lights around them flickered, then dimmed. Suddenly, an alarm blared-short and sharp. Reboot early, Marek shouted through the comm. It's compromised! You've got to move! Lawrence turned to run-but the far door opened, and through it stepped a tall, silver-haired man in a charcoal uniform. Lord Cassian Everen. He looked at Lawrence, at Celia, at the glowing core behind them. And he smiled. "Well," he said, voice smooth as steel, "I should've known my son would disappoint me spectacularly." Celia instinctively raised her blaster. Cassian's guards filed in behind him, weapons raised. Lawrence stepped in front of her. "I'm not your puppet anymore." Cassian's smile didn't fade. "Then let's see how well you dance without the strings."