Three teams spearheaded the first Blink operation on Ravine.

Taking the lead with Hammerhead, Darien had selected Rigel and Vandal squads to accompany them, with the remaining two units on standby in case things went wrong, under the nominal command of Vass Juntaar.

In the back of a balloon-wheeled crawler the remaining Blink teams waited, packed in side by side in the vehicle's rear passenger compartment. Gone were their normal dark fatigues, replaced by a motley selection of overcoats, air-scrubber masks, hooded jackets and heavy worker boots to let the blend in with the locals at Shukker's Deep. Firearms were concealed where the operatives could fit them, along with their standard issue combat knives, and light body armour fitted easily beneath the baggy clothing.

Amber had Hekket alongside her, though he had somehow managed to fall asleep though the bouncing, undulating motion of the crawler, and sitting opposite her was Rigel's squad leader, Vanna Proctor. Up close she was a striking individual; porcelain skin and high cheekbones, coupled with a pair of piercing sky-blue eyes. She looked like a Valkyrie from the old Earth myths. The stern young woman said little, even to her own squad mates. By contrast, a little further down the compartment, Taggs chatted amiably with the members of Vandal squad, the jokes flying thick and fast between them.

She watched it wistfully. There was no sign of the underlying tension that crackled beneath the surface in her own squad. Right now they functioned, but she didn't know how long that would last. With a sigh, she settled back against the seat, shutting her eyes and trying to imagine herself somewhere happier.

It was the better part of an hour before the armoured vehicle finally rumbled to a halt at their destination. A temporary staging area had been set up for them a few kilometres to the south of Shukker's Deep, little more than a set of armoured prefabs and a mobile command and control vehicle manned by Lieutenant Breznik and a trio of marines from the tech and engineering divisions of the Beltock Dragoons.

Amber dug a gentle elbow into Hekket's ribs. "Wakey, wakey," she murmured.

Hekket blinked himself into wakefulness, focusing blearily on her. He groaned, stretched and rubbed his eyes before releasing the seat straps that held him in place. Amber followed suit as the crawler's thick rear door thumped open, letting the acrid air of Ravine rush into the passenger compartment. She grimaced at the taste – it was like scorched bones. Pushing up out of her chair, she loped down the ramp and out onto the black craggy ground of Ravine.

The sky glowered down on them, unwelcoming as a black hole, churning in bruised cloud formations of purples and reds. Lurid flares of orange smeared the horizon from the dozens of vast volcanic ranges that spanned Ravine's main continents, and its star burned grimly in the sky, a red giant that hung there like a demonic portal.

Looking away from the barren scenery, she cast her eyes over the dark armoured bunkers of the staging area. Each had a hexagonal shape, with sides sloped like tank armour, and in the middle of them sat the command and control vehicle manned by Breznik and his marines. It was a brown-grey cuboid boasting an impressive comms array on of dishes and antennae across its roof and no less than eight heavy armoured wheels to drag it from place to place.

The vehicle's side hatch swung open and Breznik exited to meet them. The hulking marine had shed his combat gear, now clad in khaki trousers, grey t-shirt and beret, and with a pistol stripped to one thigh. She could see the patches of sweat on his chest and under his arms from the searing heat and wrinkled her nose. Everything about this place was hot and harsh.

"Right on time," Breznik said, shaking hands with Darien as the Blink teams gathered around the command vehicle. "There's a shift change at the main loading port in less than an hour. Link your comms into mission frequency one then stagger your approach to the town. Go in piece by piece and nobody'll notice a dozen extra kids hauling gear."

A ripple of agreement passed through the assembled operatives, and a moment later Darien, Vanna and Taggs were divvying up deployments through the squads. They would enter the town in groups of three, Blinking to a sheltered area just off the main track leading up through the nearby terrain. Bit by bit the whole force would infiltrate the loading bays and motor pools, scanning and marking as many target vehicles as they could through the duration of a single normal work shift.

It all happened with frightening efficiency and twenty minutes later Amber was trudging up the road towards their destination with Darien and Idas up ahead of her. Units of three suited the squads – with two techs per team it meant a squad leader and a second in command could double the effective area they could sweep. She knew the logic, and it made perfect sense, but she couldn't suppress the suspicion that Darien had deliberately split her and Hekket apart.

But she could sort through Darien's motivations later. Right now they had a job to do, and she would do it to the best of her ability.

Shukker's Deep was embedded in the side of a craggy cliff, linked to the rest of the outside world by coiling tracks of carefully blasted highway, barely wide enough for two crawlers to pass side by side. Amber and her squad mates joined one of the many snaking coils of workers that moved between the hauling vehicles, ascending to the mad collection of buildings. They clung to the uneven slopes like limpets, metallic clamps holding them secure. A forest of gangways, ladders and freight lifts connected the chaotic conurbation together.

She could see the small shapes of people scuttling up, down, back and forth like spiders, and the thunder of heavy machinery mingled with the constant clamour of human voices, echoing eerily down the pathways towards them. The largest of the buildings was bedded against the base of the ragged cliff – a long, low rectangle with a blast shield awning to protect the dozens of loading garages that filled its outward face. This was where the raw materials mined from this mineral-rich cliff formation would be dispatched across the planet, some used for local construction, others sent to the spaceports for off-world freight.

Amber kept a close eye on every inch of their surroundings as they approached. She knew some of the Blink contingents would be worming their way into surveillance posts over looking the loading yards rather than going down into the guts of the facility itself, but at the moment she couldn't pick any of the out of the crowds.

It was true, however, that none of the workers paid them even the slightest bit of attention. All of them wore variations on the same ragged ash-grey coats, mottled face-wraps and soot smeared goggles. The faces she could see were cracked and hollow, going through the motions of life without really meaning it. The sight made her feel sick. She lowered her eyes.

The new shift filtered seamlessly into the complex, shepherded into the hot metallic warrens by overseers in grimy overalls and scorched blast coats. So far she hadn't seen any carrying weapons beyond a handful of heavy truncheons, but that didn't mean the guns weren't there. They jostled for space as some sixty workers piled into the front of a long, low loading bay, filled from end to end with heavy crates of varying sizes.

The Blink teams had been briefed on what would be expected of them on the shift, so Amber only loosely paid attention to the overseer's words as he directed the teams to their assigned bays. The first step was the physical task of hauling the filled crates to the staging areas where rank upon rank of load bearing containers waited. Once filled they would be wheeled by conveyer to the main bay, assigned a truck and driver from duty roster, and slowly but surely the whole glacial procession would filter back out across the planet.

That left Amber and her comrades a small window of opportunity to do what they'd come here to do.

"It's a simple job," the overseer thundered, pulling her attention sharply back. "So do it right. I want every truck loaded and ready to go in two hours or I'm gonna start burnin' people. Understand?"

A disgruntled murmur of assent passed through the group and Amber joined in, silently cursing the man. She wondered if he'd be so tough if he knew just who was standing in front of him at that moment.

But now wasn't the time to right every wrong in the universe. She did have a job to do.

Following close with Darien and Idas, she started helping them, locking gravity assist bars to the largest of the crates so they could hoist them and direct them through the dozens of square apertures leading to the loading bays. It was a strange experience – three of them hoisting a crate that by rights it ought to have taken a forklift to pick up – but she tried to ignore the sensation as they started their work.

For an hour they worked, alongside the others, doing nothing to give away their true nature. Crate after crate disappeared into the huge rectangular containers that would soon be affixed to hauling trucks. Even with the gravity assist bars it was hard work, and Amber could feel her muscles beginning to ache, sweat rolling down her cheeks from the heat. Darien and Idas weren't in much better shape, but their steady progress kept them out of the eyes of the overseer. She heard him bawling at less efficient, less fortunate groups and it set anger fizzing beneath her skin.

Eventually though, the first part of their gruelling task was complete, and just inside the two hour time limit that the overseer had specified. Hands dug deep in her pockets, Amber rejoined the worker gangs as they assembled.

"Listen up!" the overseer shouted. "Because I don't say this very often. Good work. Take thirty-minutes, hit the vats and reload, back here ready for your next shipment. Get out of here." He made a sweeping motion with one arm, then turned on his heel and stomped off. Amber caught Darien's eye as the workers started to disperse. He nodded. Time to make their move.

The overseers didn't expect any surprises from the downtrodden shift workers, so no-one batted an eye when the three Blink operatives slipped out of sight into a maintenance passage that would take them straight to one of the conveyor bays where the huge truck containers would be waiting to be assigned. Other trios would be dispersing all through the facility in the same manner – time for the Blink operatives to make their mark.

Skittering along the dim-lit hallway, she could hear the grind of machinery drawing closer. The pale ochre light rebounded of the dark metal walls, creating a thick mustard glow around them as they moved. Twice they had to duck from sight as a technician passed through making routine checks, but eventually they made it into the bay itself.

Amber bit her lip as they emerged into a huge dark, humid room that stank of petrol, cigarettes and, she thought, pure alcohol. The huge containers lay in serried ranks, glinting dimly in the light. The bay was totally windowless, and a dozen fat conveyor belts fed into gaping black holes in the left hand wall. Bulky cranes were dotted around in the spaces between the haulage crates, limbs currently motionless, boom arms hanging like sentinels. Silent as shadows, they slipped in, avoiding the handful of wandering workmen in grimy overalls who strode languidly from crate to crate, checking hatches and taking inventory of the crates within.

"You ready to do this?" Darien whispered as they moved into position, side-by-side at the back of one haulage container, with Idas standing off a few meters away, making a show of taking inventory of a stack of crates.

"Let's get this show on the road," Darien whispered, nodding to her. "Don't be long."

Amber nodded. "Count on it." Then she pulled her arms close to her body, closed her eyes and Blinked into the cargo compartment.

It was pitch black inside the vehicle and she almost fell over when her feet hit the floor plating. Teetering for a moment, she managed to steady herself, then whipped a glow-node from her pocket along a high intensity scanner – a palm-sized rectangle made up of little more than three buttons and a screen. Twisting the glow node into life, she winced as the compartment suddenly lit up with a searing white. Squinting until her eyes adjusted, she looked around.

The interior of the truck was lined up both walls with the heavy crates, leaving a small walkway down the centre where she currently stood for cargo inspection. Fitting enough, for her current task. She thumbed the central button of the scanner and the screen flashed into life. When she passed her hand in front of it a stripped, skeletal version appeared on the screen, every atom flayed to prominence, showing skin and veins. She took a deep breath, then started running the scanner along the crates, watching the screen intently, moving as quickly as she dared.

The scanner drilled down through any layers of concealment, and it wasn't long before she discovered three crates towards the bottom of the stack with false bottoms. Beneath a heap of volcanic hardened piping were the unmistakable shapes of military issue colonial assault rifles, neatly arranged in a single layer to take up as little space as possible. Placing the glow node on the floor, she removed one of the tracking pips from her jacket and fixed it to the bottom of one of the crates.

Then she Blinked back out of the container.

Darien looked at her and she gave him a thumbs up. One container marked – time to move on. As fast as they could they moved along the line, Amber Blinking into the compartments while her companions kept watch. She found two more definite hits, one another weapon shipment and one a selection of military grade communication equipment, but that was out of over a dozen containers. When she exited the latest target, Darien beckoned her over, leaning in close.

"This is taking too long," he said quietly.

She glared at him. "I'm going as fast as I can."

"I know you are, there's just too much ground to cover with only you going in to run the scans. We need to split up."

"Okay." She glanced around. "So, what? We take a row each and go through as much we can before they need us back for the next shift?"

"Exactly. You keep moving along this line. Idas, you take the right, I'll take the left and we'll meet at the far end. Cover as much ground as you can."

Idas nodded, flashed them a cheeky smile and disappeared into the shadows. Darien put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll be close by."

She smirked. "Don't worry about me."

"It's a habit." Then he scuttled away, leaving her alone. She took a steadying breath, glanced left and right to make sure none of the workers were nearby, then set off. It was a little nerve-wracking doing it by herself without the knowledge that Darien and Idas were watching her back, but she forced that thought to the back of her mind and kept working.

For about ten minutes things went smoothly, and she found another container to tag, this one carrying half a dozen false-bottomed crates with body armour folded into their bases. But as she set off for the next target her progress was halted.

"Hey!"

Amber froze at the sound of the hoarse voice from behind her. She looked left and right – Idas and Darien were out of sight, though she knew they would be nearby. She just needed to get rid of this guy.

She turned, clasping her hand together and looking the newcomer in the eye. He was a lank, scrawny man, body swamped in a set of overalls and hair sweat-slicked to his skull. Grey eyes stared out from a face of coarse, cracked skin. His mouth split into a smile of yellowy teeth.

"Whatcha doing down here, eh?"

"Overseer Maxwell sent me," she replied quickly, straightening up. "He wanted me to help with inventory check for the haulers."

"Did he?" The man stepped forward. "Maxwell always had good taste."

Amber tensed, seeing the lecherous glint in his eye. She took a step back. "I'm just supposed to inventory the crates and report back. If I'm not there for the next shift-,"

"Not my problem, beautiful." He grinned, advancing. "Maxwell can wait, eh?"

"Please, I just need to-,"

"Shut up!" he hissed suddenly. "And stop moving."

Grinding her teeth together, mind racing, Amber stood still. She twitched, every muscle coiling in revulsion as he moved around behind her. Then one bony hand grabbed her right arm. The other closed around her waist and she let out a gasp as he yanked her back against his body.

"Now, you just be a good little worker and do what I tell ya," he whispered darkly into her ear. "And I'll send ya back to Maxwell in one piece. How does that sound?"

And his hand slid around and down the back of her thigh, squeezing.

She tried not to betray who she really was beneath the disguise of a young factory worker, but the man's hot breath on the side of her neck and his crawling touch pushed her over the edge. A spark of pure fury burst inside her at the thought of what would happen if she couldn't defend herself – what this thug would have done to a normal girl in this hell-hole. The images churning through her mind forced her into action.

With the quickness of a lightning strike Amber wrenched her right arm free of his grip and pivoted back, swinging her left elbow up hard into his face. The blow caught him square in the nose with a crunch of breaking cartilage, but before he could let out a howl of pain she spun around, stabbing four fingers hard into his oesophagus. He let out a choking gurgle, eyes wide in surprise as he tried to stagger away, blood gushing from his broken nose. He made it two steps back before Amber pulled out her volt-gun and shot him.

It was all over in a matter of seconds. The thug dropped, body twitching violently as residual currant passed through him. Breathing heavily, body shaking from adrenaline, Amber jammed the volt-gun back into its holster and sucked in a deep breath, then reached for it again as a figure came scampering around one of the freight containers.

She let out a silent sigh of relief as Darien emerged from the gloom and she could see his hand under his coat gripping his pistol, but he took one look at the downed thug and his body seemed to relax. He looked at her.

"You okay?" he whispered harshly.

Amber nodded.

"What happened?"

"He's just some creep looking for a good time," she hissed. "Guess our disguises are a little too good. He thought I was just some worker he could just ... you know..."

"Shame you only stunned him," Darien muttered, shaking his head in disgust. "Alright, we need to get this bastard out of sight. Gimme a hand – we'll toss him into one of the loading crates. By the time he wakes up he'll be hell and gone down the road."

She nodded again, moving to take the unconscious man's feet while Darien picked him up under the arms. With motion temporarily driven from his body the man was like a lead weight. When they lifted him, however, something fell out of his coat and clattered to the ground. Something bulky and gleaming.

Amber's eyes widened in surprise when she realised what she was looking at. It was a gun, but not just any gun. It was a sleek, shining firearm, like a hard-carved piece of the night with a cylindrical barrel and a moulded hand grip. She didn't know the exact model but she knew it wasn't something your average gang member would be hauling around. It wasn't even something she recognised from colonial arsenals.

"Son of a..." Darien's eyes widened. "Now where do you suppose he picked up that?"