The silence of the mine pressed heavily upon Cate, Morena, and Tyra as they walked along that first narrow passage. Twice now since leaving the entry point, they had to contend with spiders in the first instance, then in a large cross section, a colony of bats.

  The passage smelled of damp stone, rusted metal, and something stale…an old, lifeless scent that clung to the air like a ghost of the mine’s past. The walls, rough-hewn by hand, bore the scars of chisels and picks, their uneven surfaces slick with condensation. Occasional veins of lead and silver glinted dully in the beam of her flashlight. She was checking her watch frequently, after six hours rest, they walked on for another three hours.

  Cate exhaled slowly, flexing her hands as she took in their surroundings. They couldn’t stop now. They had to move forward, she felt surely, they were going in circles, hadn’t they passed this way before?

  Hours later, as the two girls finally succumbed to exhaustion, Cate remained awake, sitting against the cold stone wall. The dim glow from another fissure barely touched the darkness, but it was enough to cast long shadows. Cate ran a hand down her face, shaking her head at herself. That light was from the full moon, he must have been laughing at her.

  “Bloody hell, MacGregor,” she muttered under her breath. “You really screwed this one up.”

  Her voice was barely above a whisper, but in the oppressive silence, it might as well have been a shout. She looked at the two sleeping girls, her expression softening with guilt. “You got them into this mess. Now you better get them out.”

  She sighed, rubbing the heel of her palm over tired eyes. The weight of command, of responsibility, had never felt heavier. She was supposed to lead them to safety, not get them trapped in an abandoned mine with no obvious way out. But self-recrimination wouldn’t get them anywhere. Tomorrow, they’d move on. They had eaten meagrely, choosing to save their rations as much as possible. Cate settled down, sleep though did not come easily.

  ___________________________________________________________________________

  Meanwhile, Darlen’s journey wasn’t as straight forward as he thought. He heard the older woman mention something about twenty to thirty kilometres, he was familiar with that measurement, having been schooled in all things Tau’ri in his training. What he didn’t reckon on was his path through the wilderness was fraught with danger. As he moved westward, the icy wind cut through his tattered clothing, and the uneven ground threatened to send him tumbling at every step. He was navigating a steep incline up the virtual side of a mountain when a low growl stopped him in his tracks.

  Wolves.

  He fired a warning shot, the sound echoed loudly through the hills. “No, not hills Darlen, these are the mountains we see from our camp in the city.” He had started talking to himself a few hours ago. But at least the wolves had scampered, for now. They would most likely track him; it’s what wolves did.

  It was getting cold. In the year he had been on this rock, the change of seasons amazed him. One day it was warm, it might only be mid-autumn, and then the next day it would be snowing. He had to find shelter and build a fire, otherwise he’d freeze to death and that simply wasn’t in his plans. Climbing higher, he could feel the hunters behind him, they were wary now. At least, near the peak as best as he could figure, he found a shallow cave. “Wake up man!” He told himself again. “You damn well grew up in colder conditions than this! You’re getting soft!”

  The night was hard, Darlen couldn’t find sleep easily and when he did, it was a continuous nightmare of the events at the bridge. At one point he woke in a lather of sweat, a feeling of drowning under the weight of a rail carriage. He saw the faces of everyone in that coffin that had sealed their fate. He wondered if Command would be recovering the dead for a proper decent soldiers burial.

  Before sunrise he was rummaging through his pack for something to eat. Unlike his enemy, the Tau’ri, his belongings weren’t protected all that well from the water. He found one package of biscuits out of four that was dry. It wouldn’t sustain him for long; but then he didn’t expect to be on this journey long. Another day and whether or not he found those women, he’d be close to getting back to the city. He tried to shake off the thoughts of hunger, but there was really no guarantee how far this path would lead directly back to Plaxia. He’d have to hunt.

  For the fifth time he took his rifle apart, dried and oiled it from his kit; that at least was dry, as was his ammunition. He had twenty rounds; it would have to do. Darlen checked the sights one more time…his hands were shaking, a cold snow laced wind blow across the opening of his little cave. He swore he could hear a wolf howling.

  When he left the security of that dark hole in the rock, he was quite taken aback when he saw how dark it had become. Storm clouds, almost black, swirled around the snow-capped mountains, lightning and thunder shook the ground, Darlen had to steady himself, the drop over the side of the path was perhaps a thousand feet to a gorge below. He hefted his pack, slung the rifle over his shoulder, then began his journey down the other side.

  An hour later he was back in the relative safety of the woods, it was still cold, but at least it wasn’t snowing. Then he heard it again, that howling of wolves. “Damn it!” He knew in the back of his mind they’d be back, and those nineteen bullets suddenly became the most precious thing he ever had. He slid the bolt back silently, slipping the first round into the chamber from the magazine. He prayed to Chenesa the One God that he didn’t have to use all his rounds, then berated himself for even thinking there was a god at all. His Lucian Alliance masters had gone out their way to prove to people like him, worshipping Gods of any kind was for primitives like the Tau’ri.

  The deep growls of the wolves drew closer, in the dim light their eyes glowed, their dark coats shimmering from low moon of the early morning. Darlen back himself into a thicket of thin scraggly trees that lined the river, the roar of the water five metres below, he could smell their fetid breath. The lead wolf snarled, stepping closer. Darlen held his ground, his breath fogging in the air, waiting for the inevitable lunge. He curled his finger around the trigger and began to squeeze. A thought occurred to him, while he might take one down, the rest would be on him before he loosed another round. What he would give right now for one of those automatic weapons his enemy used.

  A sudden gust of wind stirred the trees, and in that brief distraction, Darlen took his chance. He slung his rifle, turned, and ran, feet pounding against the frozen earth, parallel to the river. The wolves pursued, their snarls growing louder. He barely saw the muddy slope directly ahead before he was already sliding, losing his footing entirely. The world tilted as he tumbled, grasping wildly for anything to stop his fall. The river’s roar grew louder…too loud. At the last second, his fingers found a thick tree root jutting from the hillside. He clung to it, his body dangling over the rushing water below.

  He looked above, the faces of the wolves looking down at him, saliva dripping from their tooth filled jaws. His heart hammered as he tried to pull himself up, the cracking of the branch filling him with the heat of fear. The wolves had been above him, watching, but unwilling to risk reaching for him. Muttering a curse, Darlen looked for options, the branch cracked again, he dipped a little closer to the rushing water below. For a moment he thought of just letting go; then he saw it, a dark hole in the side of the rock wall, there was a small ledge, maybe, just maybe he could make it. He jerked on the branch just a little, the next thing he knew, he was swinging in an arc towards the face of the rocks, in some strange act of fate, he missed slamming against the sharp limestone and landed hard on the ledge. The wind knocked out of his lungs; he had to grapple quickly to not fall backwards. Then suddenly he lurched forward as he over compensated. His head slammed into a wooded upright that seemed to be part of some man-made construction.

  Beneath the Mountain

  Darlen’s last clear memory before his journey was the sound of distant voices echoing through the tunnels. Was that three days ago? He had pressed himself against the rock, barely daring to breathe, straining to make sense of the murmured words drifting from somewhere in his head. He didn’t know who they were—Alliance survivors? Stragglers from a resistance cell? His aching body had refused to go any further. The moment he had let himself rest; exhaustion had claimed him.

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  Now, he was alone. Awake again.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, reaching for his head, where blood had dried sticky and stiff along his temple. His fingers found the wound—split skin, a swollen lump, and a pounding ache that sent sharp spikes of pain through his skull. He needed to stop the bleeding.

  Tearing a strip from his already ragged sleeve, he tied the fabric around his forehead, hissing through his teeth as he tightened the knot. His hands were unsteady, his limbs sluggish, but he had no choice.

  He needed to move.

  His flashlight was dimming…he had maybe an hour before it died completely. Checking his rifle, he pushed himself upright, biting back a groan. The tunnel stretched ahead, twisting out of sight. He had no real sense of direction anymore, but he wasn’t dead yet. That was something.

  Twice he had to duck to avoid colonies of bats. Further along he faced a curtain of spider web totally blocking his way. He lost what might have been precious hours finding a way around it. He had slipped into a cold and freezing stream and his mood wasn’t improving.

  Gritting his teeth, Darlen pressed on.

  The Cavern

  The tunnels felt endless.

  Cate, Morena, and Tyra had been walking for what seemed like hours, winding their way through passage after passage, often doubling back when they hit dead ends. The darkness was oppressive, the air cold and damp. Their flashlight beams cut through the gloom, revealing rough walls and uneven ground, but little else except one small side cavern littered with tiny bones and poo. The bones were from the bats, but none of the girls dared think what kind of predator would live down here, feeding on bats. They moved on quickly.

  Morena sighed. “Are you sure we aren’t going in circles?”

  “No,” Cate admitted.

  Tyra groaned. “Perfect.”

  The air grew colder as they pressed on. Then, without warning, the tunnel widened, opening into an enormous cavern.

  All three women stopped in their tracks.

  The space was breathtaking. Stalactites, long and sharp, hung from the high ceiling, while stalagmites rose from the ground like jagged spires. A slow-moving river, dark and glassy, cut through the cavern’s centre, reflecting the dim glow of their lights. The soft trickle of water echoed around them.

  Cate had seen caves before; her parents had taken her and Ben to the Jenolan Caves west of Sydney once…but this was bigger. More beautiful. The way the light danced off the rock formations made it hard to take it all in.

  Morena let out a breath. “This is incredible…”

  “Not the word I’d use,” Tyra muttered. “Where the hell do we go from here?”

  Across the river, three openings loomed. One was a natural tunnel, its mouth uneven and wild. The other two were unmistakably man-made…smooth, symmetrical, carved by tools rather than time.

  They followed their path downward. Three well-placed, flattened rocks formed a makeshift stepping bridge across the water. The air changed instantly; the dryness from before was gone, replaced by a fresher, almost crisp humidity. To their right, a small waterfall cascaded down the rock, its spray catching in the beams of their torches, forming a faint rainbow.

  Cate studied them. “Well. We’ve got a choice.”

  Morena eyed the first tunnel. “That one’s out. It’s part of the cave.”

  “That leaves the other two.” Cate reached into her pocket and pulled out a fifty-cent piece.

  Morena tilted her head. “What is that?”

  “A coin. Back home.” Cate held it up. “Heads, we go left. Tails, we go right.”

  Morena smirked. “You’re flipping a coin to decide our fate?”

  Cate shrugged. “It’s as good a method as any.”

  Morena grinned. “Alright. I call heads.”

  Cate flicked the coin. It spun in the air before landing neatly in her palm.

  Heads.

  “The left tunnel it is.”

  With a final glance at the vast cavern, they crossed the river and disappeared into the darkness.

  Darlen wasn’t sure how long he had been walking.

  His flashlight had finally died, leaving him in near-total darkness. He moved carefully, one hand trailing along the rough stone wall, his footsteps slow but steady. Time blurred. At some point, exhaustion overtook him again, and he slumped against the wall, letting his eyes close.

  It wasn’t long before he woke with a start.

  Voices. Close.

  His pulse quickened. Forcing himself up, he followed the sound, moving carefully, keeping his rifle at the ready. The voices grew clearer, bouncing off the tunnel walls. All he had was the darkness and the voices. He traced the wall with his free hand, like a blind man.

  Then he rounded the final bend; and there they were.

  Three women. All in mismatched military clothing, standing before a sealed metal door.

  “It’s welded shut,” A tall blonde obviously the leader, she seemed…older. Muttered, running a hand over the seam.

  Darlen stepped forward, raising his rifle. His voice was hoarse but firm.

  “Drop your weapons. And your packs.”

  They spun toward him. Tyra’s hands curled into fists. Morena’s eyes widened. Cate, however, studied him.

  She saw what he probably didn’t even realise about himself.

  He was barely standing.

  He was weak.

  His hands trembled slightly, his breath uneven. He looked like a man who had already lost, even as he held them at gunpoint.

  Cate made her decision.

  She unclipped her pack and let it drop. Morena followed suit. Then, reluctantly, Tyra.

  And then, Darlen collapsed.

  He woke to warmth.

  A fire crackled softly, contained within a ring of rocks. The cold of the tunnels still clung to him, but the heat was a welcome relief.

  And then he smelled it.

  Food.

  He shifted slightly, his head still pounding. Cate was seated nearby, working on something in her hands. Morena knelt beside the fire, stirring the contents of a ration pack. Tyra sat a short distance away, watching him with guarded eyes.

  He groaned. “I’m not dead?”

  Morena smirked. “No. We figured you’d be more useful alive.”

  She handed him a steaming MRE. “Here. Eat.”

  Darlen hesitated, then took it. He lifted a spoonful, the scent hitting him…curried rice and sausages. Simple, but right now, it was the best thing he had ever tasted.

  He took a bite, closing his eyes briefly as the warmth spread through him.

  “…You have beautiful eyes,” he murmured absently.

  Morena blinked, startled. A faint flush crept into her cheeks.

  Cate snorted. “Alright, Romeo, eat first. Flirt later.”

  Darlen chuckled weakly and kept eating.

  After a moment, his expression grew more serious. “What happens to me now?”

  Cate met his gaze. “That depends. You were going to kill us, weren’t you?”

  He hesitated. Then, quietly, “Yes.”

  Tyra clenched her jaw. “Why?”

  He knotted his brow. “Because of the train.” His voice wavered. “My friends—my squad. They all died.”

  Morena’s expression softened. “Horgfells killed my brother. He sent my parents to a labour camp.”

  Darlen swallowed hard. “That’s not what we were told. We were told Vegema slaughtered civilians.”

  Morena shook her head. “That was a lie. Until your people came, we never even had a damned army.” Her face unreadable if anything it showed only sadness. “We only used the Stargate for trade…”

  Silence stretched between them.

  Then, finally, Darlen spoke.

  “…I want to believe you. I really do.”

  Cate nodded. “Then prove it. Help us.”

  Darlen exhaled. Then, quietly, he nodded. “I need to know more.”

  He breathed slowly, staring at the fire as the last bite of curried rice and sausages settled in his stomach.

  Morena was watching him. He didn’t dare meet her eyes again…he still wasn’t sure why he had blurted that comment earlier. But he hadn’t been lying. She told him everything, since the day the Alliance arrived and from his own knowledge, he knew in the end, everything she said was the truth. His heart and his mind were now working overtime, that the Alliance was just one big lie came as something of a shock, but when he strung all the pieces together, it made sense.

  Cate, meanwhile, had finished her work on a small device in her lap.

  “What are you doing?” Darlen asked.

  “Making a detonator,” Cate replied without looking up.

  Darlen’s brows furrowed. “With what?”

  She held up a cell phone.

  “…That’s not going to work.”

  “Not as a phone, obviously. But as a power source? Yeah, it’ll do.” Cate smirked. “I don’t suppose the Goa’uld gave your lot EMP shielding on these doors?”

  Darlen blinked, realising what she was about to do. “Wait…you have explosives?”

  Tyra, still sitting near the fire, nodded.

  “I had one pack left.”

  Cate turned and gave her a flat look. “Yes, and you thought ‘oh I’ll just let it slip I still have some C4’, didn’t you?”

  Tyra shrugged. “It wasn’t relevant until now.”

  Cate muttered something under her breath, then turned back to her MacGyver rigged detonator.

  The young man had to test himself, he pushed up, wincing as his injuries protested. “If you’re going to do this,” he said, “you’d best get moving. It’s snowing outside.”

  Morena frowned. “Snow?”

  “I saw it starting when I was back near the bridge tunnel. It’ll only get worse.”

  Cate glanced at him. “How do you know?”

  Darlen sighed. “Because this region gets buried in late autumn, by the time winter is really here, this whole valley will be buried under snow. If we don’t get out soon, we might not get out at all.”

  That was all the incentive they needed.

  Cate carefully set the C4 in a bead against the welded seam of the metal door, securing the wires. It wasn’t pretty, but it would work.

  “Alright,” she said, backing away. “Everyone clear.”

  The others scrambled for cover behind a rock outcropping. Cate crouched down, holding the phone-turned-detonator. She took a breath.

  “Fire in the hole.”

  She pressed the send button.

  A deafening blast echoed through the tunnels as the door burst apart, sending a shockwave of heat and dust down the passage. The cavern shook slightly, loose pebbles tumbling from the ceiling.

  As the dust settled, Cate peered through the smoke. The door was gone.

  Beyond it, a tunnel led upward. Fresh, icy air poured through the opening.

  Tyra grinned. “That’s our way out.”

  Darlen adjusted his rifle. “Then let’s go.”

  They moved quickly, leaving the fire behind as they pushed into the tunnel.

  It was hard going; at times Darlen couldn’t keep up. He was still weak and to top things off, even though he had never noticed it, Cate told him his wrist was broken. Not badly, which is why it felt more numb than pain. Still, when he tested it, he soon felt the pain. What else could go wrong? They marched for two hours, all the while heading south-east. Soon they found a well-worn path along the river side, Morena now took the lead, Cate followed, then Darlen. Tyra watched him from the rear, she still didn’t trust him.

  And ahead, just beyond the opening, the bridge loomed in the early dawn light, at the far eastern end, a dozen Alliance soldiers stood, arrayed as if they expected someone or something to cross, and they had dogs.

  Darlen exhaled. “They’re not just a patrol. They’re expecting someone.”

  Cate tightened her grip on her rifle.

  Darlen set his jaw. “I’ll handle it.”

  Cate looked at him. “Are you sure?”

  His eyes were hard and determined. “Yes.”