Tunnels 03, Freefall

had trainloads of the fearsome Limiters pitched up at the Miners' Station, a couple of Division regiments had also been drafted in to support them. He'd never seen so much activity.
    Lowering himself to the ground, Drake nosed around the corner so he could take another look at the soldier. The man's back was to Drake, and he was resting his rifle stock on the ground. The soldier was hardly being vigilant, but it would still be too risky to tackle him. Drake grimaced. This was a real nuisance. It would cost him at least another hour if he was forced to turn back and take another lava tunnel to get to the Great Plain.
    Then an engine suddenly revved, filling the cavern with thunderous noise. Drake slid further around so he could see what was going on. One of the Coprolites' huge excavation machines sat beyond the soldier, smoke streaming from the multiple exhausts at the rear and forming a black pall in which Drake could just about make out some bulbous-looking forms. They were Coprolites. So the soldier was overseeing a mining operation.
    Drake knew it was crucial that he destroy the test cells in the Bunker before the Styx reached them, and as quickly as he could. He had no alternative but to deal with the soldier.
    He rose slowly to his feet and, staying close to the cavern wall, he crept towards the man. Helped by both the roaring engine and the fact that the soldier's attention was on a Coprolite emerging from the excavation machine, Drake was able to reach the man without detection. He dropped him with a single blow to the nape of the neck. Drake immediately swooped on the soldier's rifle. Pulling back the bolt to make sure it was loaded, he allowed himself a smile. He felt better now he had a proper weapon in his hands again, and didn't have to rely on his rather basic stove guns.
    As he slung the rifle over his shoulder, he turned to the four Coprolites standing in a group not far from where the Styx soldier had fallen. Just as he would have expected, they hadn't shown the smallest reaction to what he'd just done. They were completely motionless, with the exception of one who was bobbing his head in a slow rhythm, much like the bough of a tree caught in a breeze. It never failed to amaze Drake how passive and detached these gentle beings were. They were master miners, toiling to supply the Colony with coal, iron and other raw materials vital to it, and in return the Styx treated them like slaves, chucking the odd consignment of fruit and vegetables their way, and providing them with just enough luminescent orbs to stay alive. These orbs were slotted into place around the eye openings in their thick mushroom-colored dust suits, with the result that one could tell precisely where they were looking. And at that moment, it was anywhere but the unconscious Limiter, Drake, or the huge machine they had apparently been about to board.
    "Make yourselves scarce, guys," Drake yelled above the noise of the engine. "Go back to your settlement. The Styx will know that a renegade did this, so there won't be any reprisals against you," he said waving a hand towards the unconscious soldier. "Just go home!"
    Drake swung round to the steam-driven vehicle. It was a huge beast with a cylindrical hull constructed from thick sections of armored steel. Propelled by means of the three solid rollers underneath it, at the front end was a massive diamond-edged cutting wheel, some ten meters in diameter, which enabled it to slice a tunnel through the hardest of rocks.
    The rear hatch was open. As Drake considered it, an idea began to form in his head. He urgently needed to reach the center of the Bunker where he knew the test cells were situated, and that would take him quite some time on foot.
    "I wonder," he said out loud. Although he'd never piloted one of these vehicles before, he had been inside them several times and the controls didn't look too demanding. And this one was fired up and ready to go -- the four-Coprolite team had clearly been about to leave when he'd clobbered their Styx overseer.
    He walked towards the hatch and, stepping inside, glanced around the interior. It was all made from bare, beaten metal, dark with grime except for the areas that were regularly used, which shone like burnished steel. His eyes settled on the steering levers and the various dials beyond them.
    "Worth a go," he said, and was about to close the hatch when a set of bulbous fingers gripped the edge. The hatch swung back. A Coprolite stood there,