After mulling over the suggested incursion points provided by the colonial marines, Darien had eventually settled on one – a smear of darkness in the shadow of a small caldera, not far from one of Gartole's sub-stations. The complex around the dam was a forest of dark, tree-like buildings constructed of heat dispersing alloys, spider-webbed together with precarious gangways that hung over the lava canals.

The range of craggy hills collected vast quantities of flowing lava from the bubbling southern ranges, and Ravine's inhabitants had learned to bend the hot flows to their will, channelling the flows through massively reinforced canals, sending streams of energy rich, boiling lava across the region to power the settlements. For all its faults, Darien had to admit that the Gartole Dam was a triumph of human engineering that no other human colony could boast.

With the sub-stations spilling out away from it, the dam looked like a great dark curtain, rearing up hundreds of feet against the crags, holding back a vast lake of magma, its northern face glinting with lights and periodically scorched with the controlled flows that it unleashed out into the world.

It was all grimly familiar to him.

The heat of the volcanic region was stunning, even by Ravine's formidable standards, to the point where Darien had requisitioned a full compliment of the military grade hydration pills for his squad before setting out. He popped one of the tiny blue globes into his mouth and swallowed it as he surveyed their scenery through his mag-scope, carbine hanging form its strap against his combat vest.

Armed guards were clearly in evidence now. He could see figures dotted on observation towers or lounging on gantries, the dark silhouettes of rifles visible in the boiling twilight – so far so good when tallied against what intelligence Merlynn's soldiers had been able to provide. His stomach still turned at the prospect of actually finding their target in a complex as large as the dam, though. There was a lot of ground to cover.

"Uther," he said, lowering the mag-scope. "You got a trace on the shipments?"

"Yeah." Uther glanced down at the tracker he held in one hand. "According to this the goods themselves are concentrated in the loading bays on the dam's east side." He looked up, squinting at the massive structure. "But that's just the crates. We don't know where the offloaded gear ended up."

"We need to get eyes on the interior," Amber interjected, moving up alongside him. "If we just Blink in with a best guess we could blow this thing before it starts."

Niamh nodded. "She's right."

"Then we hit one of the observation posts," Darien replied without having to even stop and think. He knew Gartole – knew its security systems well enough. From what he'd seen, not much had changed since his time there. "The sub-stations all have local security nets that are wired into a central hub in the main dam." He looked at Uther, then Amber. "We just need to get control of one, then someone can bust the local security protocols and hack into the main feed."

Uther grinned. "That's simpler than I was expecting."

"I didn't say it would be easy."

"Meaning what."

Darien sighed heavily. "Ravine's systems are not what you're used to. They're ... let's be charitable and call them 'old-fashioned', okay?" He saw Amber wrinkle her nose at the prospect of hacking into an archaic system. He didn't doubt that between them the two techs could do it, but this was nothing like the normal curve of human civilisation. Ravine lagged well behind that curve – still using computer systems, authentications and protocols from its original colonisation, the kind of thing his squad-mates had never seen before.

"I'm sure we'll figure it out," Amber said after a moment. "I take it the colonial encryption algorithms we're packing won't be much use?"

He smiled grimly. "None."

"And, if we trigger a failsafe...?"

"Old school, fire and brimstone."

"Full lockdown," Uther groaned. "Well, that'd give the game away."

"Exactly, so when we do this, I want you both to take your time and work methodically through the firewalls. There are no shortcuts."

"Terrific." Amber clapped Uther on the shoulder. "Looks like we've got the fun job."

"One thing at a time," Idas rumbled. "Still got to get you to a security console in the first place."

"If they're still doing things the way they used to, that should be the easy part." Having delivered his warning, Darien turned his attention to the more immediate problem, raising the mag-scope and locking in on the nearest observation post.

It was a three-level structure, tiered like a square wedding cake with a cluster of massive signalling antennae sprouting from its roof. Sickly white light seeped from windows studded across its armoured exterior and he could make out shadowy shapes within, plus one guard walking a languid patrol on the metal balcony that ringed the top level.

"Everyone see the obs post south-west of us?" he asked. There was a mumble of agreement and he continued. "That's our way in. We'll split up. Uther, find yourself a nest and cover us from range. Idas, you take Amber and Hekket through the bottom level. Niamh and I will deal with the sentry on the top floor and meet you in the middle." He glanced at them. "Get into position at the main door and wait for my signal."

Like a well-oiled machine, Hammerhead Squad swung into action. First, Uther flashed out of sight, embedding himself in a covering position on the rocky outcrop with his lance rifle. Once the lanky tech signalled his readiness Idas, Hekket and Amber Blinked into position to lock down the lower level of the observation tower, appearing at the outer doors an instant later. Darien glanced at Niamh, then fastened his gaze on the top level, waiting for the guard to do his round, out of sight of the other towers.

The man strode nonchalantly around to the north-east corner of the tower, puffing on his cigarette without a care in the world.

"Hammerhead, go, go, go!" Darien hissed into the comm. Then he closed his eyes and made the Blink happen, instantly transporting himself from their vantage point straight onto the upper platform.

He materialised in front of the guard and he saw Niamh appear directly behind him. It took a moment before the guard even registered that someone had just appeared in front of him, and by the time he started to react it was too late.

The two operatives pounced. Darien went for the man's gun, making sure he couldn't pull the trigger and give the whole operation away, while Niamh grabbed him around the throat in a sleeper hold, squeezing tightly as their quarry opened his mouth to cry out. Darien jammed a shoulder into the man's chest and wrenched the rifle away, placing it on the ground before leaping back into the fray to get a hold of his arms to stop him getting free. A few moments of struggling later and the guard was unconscious on the ground.

"Move," Darien whispered harshly, and his comrade needed no second bidding. She was off and through the upper door in an instant, and he was hot on her heels.

When they descended the narrow stairway into the second level he saw a woman in the dark clothing of the local guards making a run for the comm set built into the far wall. She made it two steps before Amber Blinked into her path and stuck out a leg, tripping her. The woman let out a yelp of surprise, pitched forward, and smashed her head off the chair at the desk before tumbling to the floor in a limp heap.

Amber straightened up, exhaling a slow breath before looking up at him. Meeting his eyes, she gave him a thumbs up. A moment later Hekket and Idas came clattering up the stairs, carbines at the ready, but they lowered their weapons at the sight of the final unconscious guard.

"We secure?" Darien snapped.

"Two guards under wraps downstairs," Idas confirmed. "Plus sleeping beauty here."

 "Good." He tapped his earpiece. "Uther, we're secure – get down here."

A moment later their lanky companion Blinked into existence across the room, clumping to the deck and swivelling left and right with his rifle raised. When he saw only friendly faces, he let the barrel drop.

Darien motioned Uther and Amber forward. "Time to go to work."

The two techs exchanged wary looks, and then stepped past him to confront the console adjacent to the communications station. Built into the same wall, the security console was much larger, with a bank of a dozen flat screens looking down over them above a formidable array of dials and buttons. On the displays he could see different parts of the complex, each time-stamped and grid-referenced, with smooth black and white feeds showing the moving parts of the operation. Right now they would be focusing on the local net for this observation post and feeding into the central hub in the dam itself – with luck his technicians would be able to trace back along the chain and hijack the main feed itself. Then they'd be able to see everything.

"Idas," he said, turning to his friend. "Get up on the roof and sling on that guy's jacket. Start doing the rounds in case anyone's sweeping in this direction. Make sure they see the neighbourhood watch on patrol."

"I'm on it." The burly operative nodded then disappeared up the stairs.

"You weren't kidding," Amber muttered after a moment of examination, looking back over her shoulder at him. "I'm amazed this thing is even running."

Uther gave a fatalistic shake of the head. "This is a heap of junk."

"Can you hack it?"

"Sure – the security's not the problem. It'll just be a case of trying not to break the damn thing." Uther pulled his data slate from his pack and nodded to Amber. "Let's get started."

Darien smiled wryly, then motioned to Niamh, leading her down the stairway to the lower level, leaving Amber and Uther to their work. There they found the neutralised guards and he could smell the slightly burnt acidic tinge in the air that signified a volt-gun discharge. A woman was slumped in the corner as though she'd simply sat down, while her companion lay in a heap with a bloody graze on the side of his head where a heavy object had struck him. If he had to guess, Darien suspected that object was the butt of Idas's jackhammer.

Niamh strode past him, peering briefly out of one of the exterior windows. Then she turned to face him, leaning against the wall, concern etched onto her face.

"So," she began huskily. "Darien, I've gotta ask..."

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She looked around, shaking her head. "I know you didn't want to come back. Hell, Smith basically black-mailed you into being here."

"I suppose so."

"So coming home after all this time – how're you holding up?"

He smiled, crossing the space between them in three swift strides. She straightened up but before she could move he slipped a hand around the back of her neck and kissed her, long and deep, closing his eyes and for a brief moment, forgetting where he was and what he was doing. Reluctantly he pulled away, resting his cheek against hers and feeling the cool metal of her artificial eye press against his temple.

"I'm okay," he said quietly. "And as long as you're here to back me up, I'll stay that way."

Then he stepped back and opened his eyes. Niamh looked back at him and to his relief, she smiled.

"Okay," she whispered. Then cleared her throat and added, "Sir."

He chuckled and turned away, stepping back into his shoes as a Blink squad leader without another word. She was right; he hadn't wanted to come back. But now that he was here he would be damned if he was going to let his past catch up and ruin what he'd become now. Every now and then in his mind's eye he remembered the worst glimpses of his time here. A single hard shove; a scream; a body over the rail into the lava flowing below.

One of many he'd never be able to scrub from his mind. Gartole was etched into his memories for all the wrong reasons. Maybe now, returning all these years later, he could make some new ones. And maybe, at the end of all this, he could leave the planet just a little bit better off than it had been.

But that was a long way away. Right now he just needed to trust in the other members of his team. Minutes crawled by as he and Niamh circled the lower floor, checking windows over and over, all the while keeping in contact with Idas on the roof as their comrade continued his charade. He could feel the tension coiling in his muscles as the waiting started to edge on his nerves, and Niamh was feeling it too. He could see it in the way she kept checking the bandoleer of her carbine, eye roving restlessly as she paced.

At last, however, the hushed radio call from upstairs came through.

"Darien," it was Amber's voice, but there was something in her tone that set the hairs on the back of his neck standing. "We're in – full access."

"Good work," he answered warily.

"But ... I don't know, you'd better get up and take a look at this."

Exchanging a bemused glance with Niamh, he scuttled back up the stairs to see the two techs standing back from the console, both looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

"What is it?" he asked as he approached.

"We jacked into the live feeds from the lower levels of the dam," Uther explained. "Seemed like the best place to hide anything they don't want the marines to see – stuck beneath hundreds of tons of heat-resistant alloys. I'm not sure what we found though." He nodded to Amber.

She tucked a stray loop of black hair back behind her ear and then her fingers flashed over the main controls. Several images flickered and changed until they were looking at what looked like some kind of crazy workshop, with dozens of metal benches, half-dormant machines and figures scuttling back and forth. Around it all men and women wheeled the contents of the crates from the shipments the operatives had tagged back at Shukker's Deep.

"Whatever's going on in here, she's in charge of it," Amber continued, pointing at a figure on one of the central screens. A moment's examination showed a tall, slim individual silently directing the chaos in the bay, movements increasingly animated and agitated as she pointed, pushed and gesticulated at her subordinates. She stood in front of a man-sized cylinder that had several dozen empty apertures built into its exterior.

"Doubt we'll find a better catch than her," Hekket commented. "Unless you really want to dig room by room through the entire dam."

Darien shook his head, looking closer, a spark of familiarity igniting in his mind. "Not if I can avoid it."

"You got any idea what they're doing?" Niamh murmured, leaning in for a closer look. "I mean, what is all that stuff? What are they building?"

And then Darien realised what he was looking at and his jaw tightened. He stared at the screen, watching the workmen wheeling those cases into stacks around the cylindrical cradle. The resolution on the cameras was good enough that he could see what was inside: fuel rods, dozens of them, each one jammed with compressed magma, refined down to its purest base elements, each one the equivalent of a miniature hydrogen reactor.

He'd seen these kind of cylinder rigs before; they represented the worst home-made hell that a disgruntled citizen could think up. In the first round of uprisings on Ravine things had never made it this far, but now he saw with cold certainty the trajectory the rebel elements were on. They were well and truly finished being pushed around by the colonial government, to the point they no longer cared about consequences.

Or collateral damage.

"They're building a bomb," he said. "A really, really big bomb."