Page 1 of Alien Engineer's Mate

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She hated this job. She hated the cold and the damp—especially the damp.

The only reason she hadn’t quit was that she liked eating and breathing air. And she had kids who liked to do the same…

The titanium-cutting teeth spun until they formed an arc of silver beyond the safety screen, scattering strange patterns under the work lights. Eira Coleman gripped the controls tighter, feeling the unfamiliar vibration shuddering through the whole rig. The machine had always been temperamental—she knew it hated her—but this felt different. It felt wrong.

She flicked a glance at the control panel. The sensor display was cracked to hell, and patched with tape… just like everything else in this place. Numbers flashed and jumped across the screen, completely useless. She tapped it and sighed. Typical corporate nonsense… they'd rather let equipment fall apart than spend a single credit on maintenance.

"Amos," she murmured into the comm. "You getting anything weird on your end?"

Static crackled before Amos's voice cut through. "Nothing here. Sensors all green.” He paused. "Though that doesn't mean shit these days."

Damn. She'd put in the work order last week, but of course, nothing had been done. Nothing got fixed anymore unless it was completely dead, and sometimes not even then. Not since the takeover.

The shudder hit harder, and the rotor cutter let out a scream of metal and fury. The massive blade was built to eat rock for breakfast, but something was definitely wrong with how it was spinning. Warning lights flashed on the busted sensor panel, and the steering yoke vibrated like it was going to shake itself apart.

"Clear the tunnel!" she barked into the comm, already reaching for the emergency shutdown. "Something's?—"

The world went straight to hell.

The rotor cutter exploded with a thundering crack that shook the tunnel, sending razor-sharp shrapnel spraying everywhere like deadly confetti. She threw herself down behind the control panel as fragments pinged off the reinforced cabin. Alarms screamed, mixing with shouts and the relentless rain of metal debris.

"Status!" she yelled as soon as the initial chaos died down. "Everyone report!"

"Torres, clear!" The first response sounded, followed quickly by others. Each voice sent a wave of relief through her until Amos's breathless "Clear!" completed the count.

Hauling herself up, she ignored her protesting muscles. The emergency lights kicked in, painting everything blood-red and making the rock dust look like something out of a horror vid. Figures moved through the haze as her crew emerged from whatever cover they’d found when all hell broke loose.

"Anyone hurt?" she called out, climbing down from the rig's cabin. Each step sent metal crunching under her boots.

"Just cuts and bruises," someone replied. "Nothing major."

"Small mercies," she muttered, but the relief faded fast when she made her way along the machine and saw what was left of the rotor cutter. The massive blade was just gone, turned into twisted shrapnel scattered across the tunnel. The mounting assembly looked like it had gone ten rounds with a crusher unit and lost badly.

"Shit." Amos's voice was tight as he came up beside her, taking in the wreckage. "How long were those sensors acting up?"

"A week." She kept her voice steady even though her hands were still shaking from the near miss. They could have all died down here. It had happened before. More than once. "Posted three work orders myself."

"Let me guess." Torres joined them, face hard. "All of them magically vanished from the system."

"Like everything else that might cost those bastards a credit." Amos kicked a piece of shrapnel, sending it skittering across the tunnel floor. "Just like Sarah's requests about the ventilation before..." He trailed off, but the look he exchanged with Torres said it all. They'd all lost someone to corporate "cost optimization."

Heavy footsteps behind them announced incoming trouble. They all turned to see Paul Justiv's stocky frame emerge from the dust cloud, his shiny foreman's badge catching the red emergency lights. His expression was neutral, but his eyes gleamed flat and black like a shark’s.

"What happened here?" he demanded.

"Equipment failure," she shot back, steel in her voice. "The sensors have been malfunctioning. I put in a work order last week."

Paul made a show of checking his tablet, but she knew he wasn’t reading anything. "No work order showing in the system. Must have been a... technical glitch."

Her fists clenched tight. She met Paul's eyes and caught that same predatory look she'd seen at James's funeral… the one that had her taking different routes through the colony to avoid him.

"Funny how those glitches keep happening," she bit out, keeping her voice steady despite her skin crawling. The other miners tensed around her, everyone knowing exactly what game was being played.

Paul’s gaze swept over her with a hint of a sneer. "Watch yourself, Coleman. You're already on the hook for destroying company equipment. Giving me attitude won't help your case."

Her jaw tightened. “On the hook? The sensors were failing. I reported it. If it had been fixed?—"

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