Renne found Zade in the hangar before dawn.
She had not slept. The image of the chip glowing in the vault had burned itself into her skull, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw the pulse of blue light. So she had dressed in the dark and walked the empty corridors until her feet carried her to the place she knew he would be.
Zade stood beside his white mecha, a tablet in his hand. His uniform was immaculate, his platinum hair combed back. He did not look up when she approached.
"You're up early," he said.
"I need to talk to you."
He set the tablet down and turned to face her. In the low light of the hangar, his pale blue eyes looked almost gray.
"About what?"
Renne's throat was dry. She had rehearsed this a dozen times in her head, but now that she was standing in front of him, the words felt clumsy.
"The vault. Sector 7, Level 12. I need access."
His expression did not change, but something in his posture shifted—a slight tension in his shoulders, a narrowing of his eyes.
"Why?"
She considered lying. She considered making up a story about a personal effect, a family heirloom. But he would see through it. He had already seen through her too many times.
"My father's chip. The one they took when I arrived. It's in there." She held his gaze. "I need it back."
Zade was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was low.
"You're asking me to help you steal from the Imperium."
"I'm asking you to help me get back what was mine."
He looked at her with those unreadable eyes. Then he turned and walked toward the observation window overlooking Saturn's rings.
Renne followed. She stopped beside him, her reflection faint in the glass.
"Do you know what they do to nobles who help Indent steal imperial property?" he asked.
"I don't care what they do to me. But you…" She paused. "You have a position. A family. I'm not asking you to risk that for nothing."
"Then why are you asking?"
She gripped the edge of the window frame. "Because I don't have anyone else."
The words hung in the air between them. Zade did not respond immediately. He stared out at the rings, his reflection still and cold.
"Your father," he said finally. "What was on the chip?"
"I don't know. He died before he could tell me." She swallowed. "But it's the only thing he left me. And someone else wants it. Someone who's been watching me, sending messages. They told me I have six days to get it out, or I lose it forever."
Zade turned to face her. For the first time, his expression cracked—a flicker of something that might have been concern, or maybe anger.
"Who?"
"I don't know. They scrubbed the footage. They knew about my father's execution. They knew about the Overclock before anyone did." She met his eyes. "They're inside the academy. And they want me to trust someone with noble clearance."
He was quiet again. Then he said, "You're asking me to trust you."
"I'm asking you to take a risk."
"That's the same thing."
She had no answer for that. She stood there, her hands at her sides, waiting.
Zade exhaled slowly. "The vault is guarded by both physical security and active anima sensors. Any mecha that approaches without clearance triggers an alarm. Any human without a noble's biometrics gets locked in." He looked at her. "I can get you past the biometrics. But the anima sensors are keyed to my mecha's signature. If I'm not there, they'll know."
"Then you come with me."
"That's what I'm saying." He turned back to the window. "I'll help you. But if we're caught, I will not be able to protect you. And you will not be able to protect yourself."
Renne's heart was pounding, but she kept her voice steady. "I know."
He nodded once, sharp. "Tomorrow night. 0200. Meet me at the maintenance access on Level 10. Do not tell anyone. Do not bring your mecha—it's too conspicuous. We go on foot."
He walked back toward his mecha, picking up his tablet.
Renne stood by the window, her reflection staring back at her. She had done it. She had asked, and he had said yes.
But the weight in her chest did not lift. If anything, it grew heavier.
"Zade," she called.
He paused.
"Why?"
He did not turn around. "Because I've spent my whole life following the rules of a system I hate. Maybe it's time I broke one."
He disappeared into the shadow of his mecha. Renne stood there for a moment longer, then turned and walked out of the hangar.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Advanced combat drills. Mecha theory. Synchronization practice with Argent.
The connection was steady, but Renne's mind was elsewhere. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the vault door. Every time she opened them, she felt the weight of what she had asked Zade to do.
Eris noticed. During a break between drills, she pulled Renne aside.
"You're distracted. What's going on?"
Renne shook her head. "Nothing. Just tired."
"You're a terrible liar." Eris crossed her arms. "Is it Zade? I saw you two talking this morning."
Renne's stomach tightened. "It was nothing."
"Renne." Eris's voice was serious now. "If you're in trouble, you can tell me."
Renne looked at her—at the open, earnest face of the girl who had befriended her when no one else would. She wanted to tell her. She wanted to trust someone completely.
But the unknown sender had said: *Find an ally you can trust.* They had not said find two. And the more people who knew, the more people who could get hurt.
"I'm fine," she said. "I promise."
Eris's eyes narrowed, but she did not push. "Okay. But if you're not, you know where to find me."
She walked back to her mecha. Renne watched her go, a knot of guilt forming in her chest.
---
That night, Renne lay in bed, waiting for her bracelet to chime. The slate was hidden under her pillow, dark and silent.
At 2300, it glowed.
She pulled it out. The screen displayed a single line:
*You asked him. Good. Tomorrow, he will lead you to the vault. But trust is a blade—it cuts both ways.*
Renne stared at the words. Her pulse quickened.
*What do you mean?*
She typed the question on the slate's surface, but the screen remained blank. No response.
She set it down and pressed her palms against her eyes.
'They know everything. They know I talked to Zade. They know when we're going.'
She lay back, her mind racing. The sender had guided her this far. They had given her information, access, a timeline. But they had also made it clear that they were watching. And they had just warned her—or threatened her—about trust.
'What do they want from me? And what do they want from Zade?'
She did not sleep. At 0100, she dressed in dark clothes, the ones she had worn on Mars. They felt like armor.
At 0145, she slipped out of her room. The corridors were empty, the lights dimmed for the sleep cycle. She moved through them silently, her footsteps soft on the metal floors.
Level 10 was a maintenance deck—pipes and conduits, the hum of machinery, the smell of coolant. Zade was waiting at the access hatch, dressed in black, his platinum hair hidden under a cap.
He looked at her and said nothing. He just opened the hatch and stepped inside.
Renne followed.
---
The maintenance tunnels were narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. The walls were lined with cables and pipes, the air warm and thick. Zade moved ahead of her, his movements sure, as if he had done this before.
"You know these tunnels," Renne said quietly.
"I used them when I was younger. To get away." He did not elaborate.
They walked in silence for ten minutes, climbing ladders, crossing service bridges. Finally, Zade stopped at a metal door with a biometric panel beside it.
"Beyond this door is the vault's outer chamber. My clearance will get us in. But once we're inside, we have ten minutes before the security cycle resets and flags our entry." He pressed his palm to the panel. A green light flashed, and the door slid open with a soft hiss.
They stepped into a wide corridor lined with black stone. At the end, another door—this one massive, dark, with the seven-pointed star of the Imperium.
Zade walked to it and pressed his palm to a second panel. The star glowed red, then green. The door began to open.
Renne's heart was in her throat. The gap widened, revealing rows of shelves, a cold blue light illuminating confiscated items.
And there, on a shelf at the center, her father's chip.
It was pulsing. The blue light was stronger now, brighter, filling the vault with a rhythmic glow.
Renne stepped forward. Zade grabbed her arm.
"Wait."
She stopped. He was staring at the chip, his face tense.
"What is it?"
"The anima sensors. They should have triggered the moment we entered." He looked around the vault, his eyes scanning the walls. "They're off. Someone disabled them."
Renne's blood ran cold. "The sender."
"Or someone who knew we were coming." He released her arm.
Renne looked at the chip. It pulsed steadily, inviting. She took a step toward it, then stopped.
Her hand hovered over the shelf. 'This is too easy. The sensors are off. The door opened without a problem. Someone wants me to take this.'
She thought of the sender's message: *Trust is a blade.*
Her fingers trembled. But the chip was right there. Her father had died for it. Whatever it contained, it was hers.
She grabbed it.
The chip was warm when she picked it up, pulsing against her palm. The light flared once, then dimmed, settling into a soft, steady glow.
She tucked it into her pocket. "Got it."
They turned to leave.
The vault door was closing.
Zade sprinted toward it, his hand outstretched. He slammed his palm against the panel, but the door did not stop. It continued sliding shut, the gap narrowing.
"They're locking us in," he said, his voice tight.
Renne looked around the vault. No other exits. No windows. Just shelves of confiscated items and the heavy door grinding closed.
She grabbed Zade's arm and pulled him toward a gap between two shelves. "There. The ventilation shaft."
They ran. The door was almost closed, a sliver of light remaining. Zade reached the shaft first, prying the grate open with his fingers. He pulled himself in, then reached back for Renne.
She grabbed his hand. The door closed behind her with a boom that shook the floor.
Darkness. And then the shaft closed in.
It was barely a meter wide. Renne's shoulders scraped against the metal walls on both sides. The air was stale, hot, thick with the smell of recycled coolant and dust. She could hear her own heartbeat echoing off the narrow confines, could feel the heat rising from the ventilation system's dormant coils.
She tried to move and her elbow hit a weld seam. The walls seemed to press inward with every breath.
Zade's voice came from ahead, muffled. "Keep moving. It opens up after twenty meters."
Renne crawled forward, her palms flat against the warm metal. The shaft was a furnace. Sweat dripped into her eyes. She forced herself to focus on the pale blue glow of the chip in her pocket—the only light in the crushing dark.
Her breathing was too fast. The walls were too close. She felt the weight of the vault door behind her, the tons of steel sealing them in.
'Keep moving. Don't stop.'
She dragged herself forward, her knees scraping, her lungs burning. The shaft narrowed further, and for a terrible moment she thought she would get stuck. She twisted, her shoulder grinding against the wall, and pushed through.
The space widened. She could breathe again.
Zade was ahead, his silhouette outlined by a faint green light. He had reached another grate.
He pushed it open and dropped through. Renne followed, landing on a metal catwalk above a humming coolant reservoir. The air was cooler here, almost cold.
She lay on the catwalk for a moment, her chest heaving, her whole body trembling.
Zade stood over her, his face shadowed. "You okay?"
She pushed herself up. Her hands were raw, her knees bleeding through her pants. But she had the chip.
"I'm fine."
He looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "We're in the secondary cooling system. From here, we can reach the maintenance bay. But we need to move—they'll know the vault was breached by now."
They moved through the cooling system, climbing ladders, crossing narrow walkways above humming machinery. The chip in Renne's pocket pulsed steadily, a warm heartbeat against her chest.
When they finally emerged into the maintenance bay, the station's artificial dawn was breaking. Gray light filtered through high windows.
Zade stopped at the entrance to the corridor. "Go to your room. Change. Destroy the chip if you have to, but don't let them find it on you."
"What about you?"
"I'll handle the logs. Make it look like a systems malfunction." He turned to leave, then paused. "Renne."
She looked at him.
"Whoever set this up wanted you to have that chip. But they also wanted us trapped in that vault." His voice was low. "Be careful who you trust."
He disappeared into the corridor. Renne stood alone in the maintenance bay, the chip warm against her chest, the weight of the trap settling over her like a shroud.
They had the chip. But whoever had given it to them was not an ally.
They were a hunter, and Renne had just walked into the snare.
Trust was a blade, the sender had said.
Now she understood.