Forged (Star Breed #10) - Elin Wyn Page 0,59

alright?”

Tinon snorted. “I wasn’t exactly an eager trandor to get my hours in before we switched corps. With the new management, I want to keep my head down and not get killed.”

Swallowing hard, I nodded. For most of the workers here, it was just another hostile takeover.

Maybe with a slightly higher body count, but really, it wasn’t unknown for a takeover to have a few rough days in the beginning.

Grilla and Urtu would have had a different take on it, I was sure.

But Uncle Ran’s method had certainly managed to motivate Tinon.

“It’s all a little complicated,” I said. “Right now, I’m just looking for information.”

“Don’t have any,” he said hurriedly. “I’m just making sure I hit my quota. I don’t hear or see anything.”

The blare of an alarm rang through the room.

All workers! Assemble in the hub in ten minutes for corporation announcements.

Tinon went pale, hands shaking as he powered down his station.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “What sort of announcements could be that bad?”

“I’ve been keeping my numbers up, but you never know,” he muttered.

“Never know what?” Dread pooled in my stomach.

“Who he’s going to punish,” Tinon whispered, eyes darting from side to side. “Were they behind on their numbers? Were they talking out of turn, too loyal to the old corp? Don’t know why, one corp is the same as the other, really.”

Punish.

I thought back to the vid of the assembly, where Uncle Ran had so easily killed Grilla and Urtu.

I hadn’t liked either of them, but they hadn’t deserved to die just for talking back.

And no one had tried to stop him.

Tinon stood, brushing off his coveralls as if anything would make him look more presentable.

“I need you to help me,” I decided quickly.

“No, I need to go. I can’t be late.” He swallowed hard, looking trapped.

But there was no other way.

“Just give me a hand getting the housing off the laser cutter,” I insisted.

This had to end.

And it was up to me to do it.

“This isn’t a good idea, this isn’t a good idea,” Tinon muttered over and over, but I ignored him. He was helping me, and that was all that mattered.

We’d taken the housing off the laser cutter assembly often enough for cleaning. Even in his panic, his hands knew the routine and broke down the components without thinking.

Safety housing, secondary casing, and finally the cutter was loose.

“Alright,” I said softly. “You can go.”

But now that he had been freed, Tinon stayed still, feet rooted to the floor, his eyes fixed on the laser cutter.

“What are you going to do?” he whispered.

“Take care of some family business,” I said, pulling the laser cutter free, and placing it on my workbench. “I can make the rest of the adjustments myself,’’ I said. “Go on, you don’t want to be late.”

He swallowed repeatedly, opened his mouth as if to ask more questions, then decided better of it.

“Good luck,” he said as he turned away. “I think.”

I couldn’t rely on luck. My hand froze as I started to make the final adjustments.

I hated blasters, had never touched one.

But someone had to do something. And apparently, that someone was me.

I got to work.

Half an hour later, I carried the heavy cutter at my side as I ghosted down to the hub.

The video I’d seen on the Kodo Ragir played over and over in my mind. But this time, I wasn’t focused on what Uncle Ran had been doing, or Grilla’s scream of terror and outrage echoing in my ears.

This time, I was trying to remember what the rest of the room had looked like.

The booths and tables, the greenery-draped arches that had been set up to give some semblance of privacy, had all been knocked down and pushed to the sides.

In one corner, it looked like the debris had been piled high enough that it should give me cover.

At least, if nothing had changed.

The months on the station where I’d kept to myself, watched and waited, exploring on my own without being seen, were paying off now.

I could hear Uncle Ran ranting before I even got to the hub, slipping toward the corridor doors which would come out as close as possible to my target corner, his words blaring from the loudspeakers.

“There can be no dissension! Loyalty to ExaTek is all!”

I stopped, fighting to slow my heart rate and calm my breathing before I took the last few steps out of the corridor and into the open space of the hub.

I crouched down and dashed across the floor, but