"I didn't need to pick up a transmission," Sera said, tossing her cold-bitten hands up in frustration as she stepped further into the flickering orange light of the forge. "I climbed the ninety-foot pine at the north ridge an hour ago before the wind kicked up. I didn't need a radio to tell me what's happening. The corporate vanguard didn't wait for their automated rigs to finish clearing the lower timberline." Vance pushed himself off the wooden doorframe, his boots sliding slightly on the soot-covered stone floor. "Get to the point, Sera. Are they at the mouth of the gorge already?" "They're past the mouth," Sera snapped, her voice tight with adrenaline as she dropped the metal antenna frame onto a nearby workbench with a sharp clatter. "They bypassed the lower timberline entirely using flatbed heavy-haulers on temporary access tracks. The vanguard railhead is sitting less than three miles down the valley right now. I watched their floodli

"A probe is all they need to crack us wide open," Kael muttered, his hand instinctively dropping to the grip of his sidearm as he leaned over the table. "If that crawler reaches the upper basin, it lays down a beacon, and then we’re eating high-explosive ordnance before breakfast. Vance, grab the heavy ropes and the remaining rigging gear from the supply cache. We move to the upper cliff path right now." Vance didn't hesitate, already turning toward the door with a sharp nod. "I'll rally the boys from the lower barricade. If those corporate bastards want a clear track, we'll give them an avalanche instead." "Wait," Rian stepped forward out of the shadows near the back of the smithy, his ruined cybernetic arm hissing softly as a pale blue arc of electricity jumped erratically across the metal housing. His face was slick with cold sweat, the strain of his failing internal regulators evident in the tight set of his jaw. "You aren't using

"The ore cart chassis?" Kael snapped, his boots skidding to a halt in the loose gravel of the path as Rian blocked his way. "Are you out of your mind? That thing weighs half a ton. Even if we could hump it up the goat trail before the scouts hit the bend, how do you expect us to rig it without a crane?" "You don't need a crane, you idiot, you need gravity and a slip-knot!" Rian spat back, his voice tight with pain as a fresh wave of blue sparks leaped from his seizing elbow joint. He grabbed Kael by the canvas lapel of his jacket, pulling him in close. "You winch it to the anchor pine at the edge of the north ledge. When the crawler passes underneath, you cut the main tether. The cart drops vertical, smashes straight through their reinforced roof plate, and pins the front axle into the mud. End of advance guard. Total mechanical failure." Vance rushed up behind Kael, his eyes darting between the two men as the distant, rhythmic thrum of the

"Keep your head down, Captain! They’re adjusting their windage!" Vance yelled, his boots sliding wildly in the wet shale as he dragged Kael another ten feet up the embankment. "I'm... I'm not dead yet, Vance," Kael rasped, his teeth gritted so hard a thin line of red leaked from the corner of his mouth. He tried to push himself up on his elbows, but his right leg buckled instantly beneath him with a sickening wave of fresh agony. "Get your hands off my belt. Look at the pass—did the trap take out the crawler?" "It smashed the front end flat, but the infantry didn't even flinch," Rian panted, stumbling behind them with his left arm permanently frozen at an awkward, right-angle bend, smoke lazily curling from the sheared casing of his elbow joint. "They’re using the wreckage as cover. If we stay here another thirty seconds, they'll flank us from the lower ridge." "We aren't staying," Kael hissed, grabbing

"Miller, I don't give a damn about your winter stores right now!" Kael shouted, his voice cracking as he gripped the rough-hewn fence post to keep from collapsing into the dirt. "If you don't clear the main street and get every able-bodied person behind the stone foundations, those corporate bastards aren't just going to burn your barns—they're going to salt the earth underneath them!" Miller’s jaw tightened, the deep wrinkles around his mouth carving into his skin like dry riverbeds. The old mayor looked past Kael, his gaze sweeping over the bedraggled line of refugees dragging makeshift blanket stretchers and clutching rusted rifles. For a long, agonizing second, the silence in the courtyard was deafening, broken only by the crackle of distant brushfires down in the gorge. "You brought this war straight to my door, Captain," Miller said, his voice cold and flat, though his knuckles whitened around the handle of his spade. "My p