"We already saved the truth," Orion countered sharply, nodding to two local militia fighters who immediately moved in to zip-tie the disarmed security captain's wrists behind his back. "And truth flows better than corporate water ever did. Get him out of the atrium before the crowd recognizes his collar."The captain was hauled away cursing into the surging sea of miners and dust-farmers, but Orion didn't watch him go. His boots crunched over shattered obsidian and bullet-scarred marble as he marched straight toward the massive, multi-tiered terminal banks dominating the center of the Spire’s ground-floor control hub. The screens were still flashing crimson warning banners, though Vela’s remote override had successfully locked out the corporate administrator accounts."Orion! Status report!" Magnus’s raspy voice barked through the short-range comms, accompanied by the heavy, rhythmic thud of a slug-thrower clearing out remaining resistance on the mezzanine level above. "Are the main d

"Good," Magnus grunted over the channel, the sound of a heavy metal boot kicking a secured door open echoing clearly through the speaker. "Because the upper levels are finally quiet, and the body count up here is starting to get remarkably heavy. Get some medics up to the executive atrium immediately. We have several serious casualties among the local volunteers.""Medics are already moving up the central stairway," Orion replied, his voice dropping an octave as he looked past the shattered terminal banks toward the grand transparent archway overlooking the western basin. "I'm heading down to the primary aqueduct control room. The automated release sequence for the outer districts is about to trigger.""Don't stay down there too long," Magnus warned. "The foundation took some heavy plasma hits during the sky-hook battle. Those structural supports are groaning louder than an overloaded freight hauler.""I'll be fine, Magnus. Just make sure the perimeter stays locked down. We can't affo

"For the first time in thirty years," Magnus muttered to himself, stepping off the heavy treads of the tracked utility transport and onto the sun-baked, wind-scoured earth just beyond the perimeter of the western basin. He pulled his weather-beaten canvas collar up against the stinging grit of the late afternoon wind, his joints popping with a dull, familiar ache that no amount of victory could soothe. "There isn't a single corporate bounty hunter tracking my ghost across this wasteland.""Don't speak too soon, old man," Cassian called out from the open cargo ramp of the Star-Skipper, casually tossing a heavy coil of synthetic mooring line into the rear hold with a metallic clang. The ship's primary thrusters were already humming with a low, rhythmic vibration, shaking the loose desert dust from its landing gear. "I scanned three different automated survey drones floating near the upper thermosphere on my way down. They're probably just taking pictures of your ugly mug for the histori

"Dust storms don't scare me anymore, Cassian," Magnus said, shouting over the deafening, chest-rattling roar of the Star-Skipper’s primary ion thrusters as the sleek transport slowly detached from the scorched earth, kicking up a massive, swirling tempest of fine gray silt and loose pebbles."You say that now, but wait until you have to scrub it out of your teeth for the next three decades!" Cassian’s voice crackled back through the open ship-to-shore comm-channel, high-pitched and laced with that familiar, reckless smirk that had kept them all alive through the darkest days of the siege. "Keep the water running, old man! We’ll check back in when we need to refuel our cargo bays with fresh crops!""Just watch your six on the outer rim!" Magnus fired back, raising a weathered hand to shield his watering eyes against the stinging gale of the liftoff. "There are still automated patrol skiffs drifting dead in the upper thermosphere, and I'd rather not pull your charred remains out of the

"You can put your arm down now, boss," Orion said, his voice cutting sharply through the quiet as he stepped out from the shadow of a rusted concrete pillbox. "The ship’s gone. Unless Cassian decided to turn around and drop a cargo bay of old rations on your head, staring at the sky isn't going to make him wave back."Magnus lowered his hand stiffly, his joints popping with a dry, audible crack that seemed entirely too loud in the vast emptiness of the western basin. He wiped a layer of fine gray grit from his cheek with the back of a calloused thumb, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the younger man. "I wasn't waving, Orion. I was making sure the thruster wash didn't drop any unexploded ordinance on the ridge.""Right. And I'm the planetary governor," Orion muttered, stepping closer and kicking a loose piece of shrapnel across the sun-baked dirt. The scrap metal skittered away, ringing like a tiny bell against a discarded drone casing. "More importantly, the primary comm-link from t