Iggy thought he'd never catch his breath.

He wheezed like a wounded animal. After tearing off his cracked helmet, he gulped down endless amounts of fresh air filling the room. Unlike the mines of the tunnel, the room was rife with oxygen. Had he spent another moment behind the doors at his back, his respirator would've failed. His helmet would've been rendered useless.

Spots filled his blurry vision as he tried to steady himself.

A few more seconds and he would've died. The realization shook him to the core.

He let out a breath of relief. Wincing, he got back to his feet. He couldn't put any weight on his injured leg; the pain had amplified, and blood continued to leak from the gash above his ankle.

His fingers coiled around the sleeve of his tattered jumpsuit before tearing off a piece of the fabric. It was a good thing the Au Decimus Mining Company invested in cheap uniforms. Gritting his teeth, he fashioned a makeshift tourniquet around his wound, hoping to staunch the bleeding.

It wouldn't do much, but it was better than nothing.

Iggy wasn't good at many things, but surviving wasn't on that long, embarrassing list. Even as a child, his father taught him to survive. He'd only been a few cycles old when his family left their village in Yensari. Despite his hazy memories of those times, he knew they were better than what his life was now.

Sighing, he limped forward and scanned the rest of the room.

It was rather small, no larger than the maintenance closets dispersed throughout the various floors of the mines. Except Iggy didn't recall one being here on any of the indexes and maps upstairs. Judging by the dust and cobwebs covering everything in sight, he figured it wasn't a new development. It should've been documented. Or mapped, at the very least.

A cluttered desk, storage bins stacked on top of each other, and a single file cabinet were all that made up the secret room. Dim light from a swinging lightbulb illuminated the cramped space.

He frowned.

Turning, he glanced at the shut doors.

That passcode shouldn't have worked. It was an act of desperation, a prayer to the stars. After all, why would his father's birthday be the password for anything in the mines? He might've been a maintenance worker for the mining company before his disappearance, but that didn't mean anything.

Right?

Shaking his head, Iggy decided to examine the messy workstation nearby. Scattered pieces of parchment marked in blue ink were laid out across the wood. He arched an eyebrow at them.

Paper?

He hadn't seen paper in many cycles. Most of the empire had it retired eons ago. The Elysian Empire prided itself on its technological advancements. With their Vitas*, StimHaunts*, MedHubs*, and countless other inventions developed by the brightest Elysian minds, there was no use for archaic technologies like paper. Even the territories the empire loved to neglect utilized more sophisticated tech.

Iggy grabbed one of the wrinkled parchments. Most of the words were written in a language he didn't understand. It took five different documents for him to finally come across a word he understood:

Rebellion.

He blanched. His fingers trembled. The piece of paper suddenly felt as if it was coated in Mandril* venom. Without another thought, he tossed it back onto the table and backed away.

If anyone caught him reading that, he'd be spending the rest of his life in a jail cell somewhere in The Void. Any talk of insurgency was outlawed by the empire. If anyone asked them, the rebellion wasn't real. No one asked anyways. The rebellion was simply a myth drunkards told in the cantinas back in town to pass the time.

Iggy was inclined to believe them.

After all, who would be dumb enough to challenge the empire?

Swallowing hard, Iggy faced the doors again. He needed to find a way out. The room might've had oxygen for him to breathe now, but would it in ten minutes? Five minutes? He glanced at the vents near the ceiling.

There was no telling when toxic air would start flowing through the metal slits.

The secret room was his haven now, but he wasn't willing to stick around long enough for it to become his crypt.

Still, it wasn't like he had the luxury of having multiple options for escape. He didn't even have one. There was no way he was going through those doors again—not with his broken helmet and the explosions still rippling throughout the mine. Crawling through the vents to safety would've been a good idea if he was the size of a sandrat*.

Groaning with irritation, he paced about the floor.

There had to be another way out of the room.

He threw a hesitant glance at the table. There were a few drawers built into it. Maybe there was something in them he could use.

Nodding to himself, he hobbled over to the drawers and pulled each one out in search of something—anything. They were all empty. All but one. He stuck his hand inside. Smooth metal brushed against his fingertips. His eyes lit up as he grabbed the object.

He nearly fainted after seeing what it was.

An amulet, crafted out of brilliant orange steel, stared at him. A symbol spun in the center, reflecting the light hanging from the bulb on the ceiling. The insignia was the same as the one on the door.

His breath caught in his throat.

The amulet was identical to his father's.

He tightened his hand around it as memories of the man flooded his frazzled psyche.

It couldn't be his. Why would it have been? The symbol was likely a common one, something Iggy didn't have any knowledge of. The amulet could've been anyone's. Even if that was the case, though, he couldn't help but think the symbol was linked to the letters on the desk. They spoke of rebellion. Of treason. Crimes worthy of death in the eyes of the empire's newly inducted emperor, Voltai au Castus.

There was only one way to know for sure if the amulet belonged to his father.

Releasing a shuddering breath, he flipped the pendant in his hand. Two initials were engraved into the metal. Iggy choked on the lump manifesting in the back of his throat.

I. A.

They were his own. Iggorii Amrada. I. A. But he knew whose they really belonged to.

Icarii Amrada. His father.

There was no denying it now.

This room, at one point or another, had been inhabited by his father. The pendant was his. The letters might've been too. If they were his, that meant he was conspiring with the rebellion. In the eyes of the empire, he was a traitor. An enemy of the galaxy.

Iggy's eyes widened.

For cycles, he thought his father abandoned him. His bitter mind convinced itself that the man had bolted off to some other planet, likely drinking himself into a stupor in some destitute cantina lightyears away. His mother never believed that. She always told him he'd come back. She said he was on an important mission—something bigger than all of them.

Iggy always wrote off her nonsensical babbling as her way of coping with the trauma.

Now he wasn't so sure.

This can't be happening.

The rebellion wasn't real. Even if it was, his father wasn't involved. How could he be? The empire had surveillance all over the Inner and Outer Rim. Hundreds of planets and dozens of planetary systems. Privacy was a myth throughout the empire, especially for non-Elysians. Iggy unconsciously pressed two fingers behind his ear—the device burrowed just below his skull, installed upon his arrival on Novr, held all the information the empire could ever need to study, find, and destroy him.

Iggy had seen firsthand what happened to those who defied the Elysians. Protests were shut down faster than they began. He still remembered the labor strikes in the city that lasted less than an hour before Elysian guards mowed down the crowd as if it were target practice.

He shivered.

That wouldn't be him. He couldn't let it. His mother needed him.

That's why he needed to get out of that room. She wouldn't survive without him. She needed him, and he needed her. Now more than ever.

He grit his teeth.

"I'm getting out of here."

The room shook slightly. Dust rained from the ceiling. He stiffened and glanced above him. A faint outline of a circle could be seen in the concrete. Eyebrows lifted, he squinted at the dust falling through the crevices.

Huh.

He took another look around the room. Nothing new presented itself. The circle in the ceiling had to be an escape hatch. What else could it have been? In truth, it could've turned out to be multiple things, but Iggy ignored that. He was intent on gaining access to whatever it was.

As he searched for something to stand on, a bitter smell tickled his nose. His heart jolted, his eyes bulging. Tiny silver spots peppered his vision as he felt his chest constrict. Oh no. Oxygen was depleting. He needed to get out of there. Fast.

He glanced at his father's amulet. His eyes narrowed as he noticed something he hadn't seen before. The symbol spinning in the center had a button sticking out of it. Or, at least, it looked like a button. Who knew what it really was? It could've been linked to some sort of self-destruct sequence. Or it could've unlocked whatever that opening was above him.

Considering he only had a few more seconds left before the room filled up with toxic fumes, he'd take his chances with the button. Exhaling deeply, he pressed it and waited to explode.

Tears of relief brimmed in his eyes as he watched the circle above him retreat into the ceiling. A vertical tunnel hovered above him. As the concrete panel moved, a metal ladder dropped down. Yelping, Iggy dove out to the way. Had he been a second late, it would've crushed his body. He was already small as it was. The ladder surely would've shattered him into pieces.

He carefully picked himself up. The pain in his leg subsided a bit, but he still couldn't walk much on it.

Grimacing, he put his good foot on the first rung of the ladder. He glanced at the table full of letters.

He should've forgotten them. Scrubbed them from his memory.

But he couldn't. Not after what he learned. There were too many questions swimming around his head. If he managed to make it out of the mines alive, perhaps his mother could've helped answer them.

Nodding, he dismounted the ladder and snatched up the letters. Folding them into a tiny square, he tucked them into the pocket of his jumpsuit. He took another breath before returning to the latter. After giving the room one last look, he began his descent.

#

The ladder brought Iggy right outside the entrance to the mine. He pushed the manhole cover off and climbed to the ground. His arms and legs burned as sweat dripped down his reddening face. The climb felt like it lasted an hour—his injured ankle hadn't made things any easier either.

Wiping his face, he waited for his puffy eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight pouring from the orange sky. He hated being outside during the day. Reddish-brown clouds hung in the sky, making the rays streaming through feel like daggers against his skin.

Shielding his eyes, he staggered toward the main structure built around the quarry's entry point.

Dust-covered walls rose a few stories into the air. Confused miners stood beneath the various load doors at the front. Storage bins, mechanized drills, cranes, and other mining equipment were placed around inside. As Iggy joined his coworkers, he noticed the grid of red lasers in front of the tunnel leading into the mine.

A voice over a speaker announced that the workday was over due to the excavations and explosions taking place beneath their feet. He scowled.

If only they had told him an hour earlier.

"Iggs!?"

He stiffened.

Squok ambled over to him, his four yellow eyes wide with surprise. He clapped a three-fingered hand onto the boy's shoulder. "You're alive!"

"Looks like it."

"I thought you were a goner, little buddy."

"Yeah, well, I guess I got lucky."

"No kidding." Smiling sheepishly, Squok rubbed the back of his leathery neck. "You didn't happen to save any of the salt, did you?"

"You can't be serious."

"What? We gotta eat, Iggs. Think about your mother. I've got debts to pay, you know. The Au Vormnir family just upped the prices on pain meds."

Iggy rolled his eyes.

"Hey, what's that in your pocket?" Squok pointed at the outline of the amulet sticking out in his pants.

Scowling, he covered it with his hand.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Sure doesn't look like nothing."

"Drop it, Squok."

"You know what happens to thieves here, Iggs."

He hadn't stolen anything. The amulet was his father's, not the empire's. But Squok didn't know that. He wouldn't find out either, as Iggy had no intentions of telling him—or anyone—anything.

Huffing, he turned around and walked away. His mining partner called after him, but he ignored him. It was clear he didn't even care about his well-being. Not really. He probably didn't even try to look for him after his fall. All he was concerned about were the credits.

That's all anyone ever cared about.

Shaking his head, he approached the kiosk to clock out of work for the day. He couldn't wait to get home. He was starving and his leg needed some actual first aid.

He joined the line forming outside of the booth and patiently waited his turn. Miners brought their bags of salt to the android manning the desk. In return, they had credits wired to their accounts. Iggy felt his face get hot as he arrived at the front of the line.

The attendant wrinkled their nose at him. "What happened to you?"

"I got caught in the explosions."

"Where's your yield for today?"

"Did you not hear me? I almost died—"

"So...nothing?"

Sighing, he nodded.

They typed something into their computer. Iggy pursed his lips at them.

"Zero credits."

"Yeah, yeah."

Hanging his head in shame, he stepped out of line and walked off.

Today couldn't get any worse.

He stuffed his dirty hands into his pockets. His father's amulet hid inside, and he could feel the folded letters shifting in the chest pocket of his jumpsuit. While he might not have earned any credits for the day, he managed to obtain something else.

Part of him wished he didn't.

Sighing, he limped toward the train station half a mile away from the mining yard.

#

It took Iggy three hours to get home.

The journey usually took him about an hour and a half, but traffic in the city was disastrous. According to a shop owner he passed on his way to his apartment, a Noblus was in town. And it wasn't anyone from the Au Decimus family; the empire had placed them in charge of this planet, along with a few others. Each of the twelve Noblus families owned an assortment of planets. They mostly exploited them for labor and resources.

But the Au Decimuses weren't in town today.

What business would any other Noblus have on a planet like Novr? The twelve royal families of the empire spent most of their time in the Inner Rim planets, specifically Elysium—the crown jewel of the entire empire. For one of them to be on Novr...

He gulped.

It was best if he made it home before anything happened.

Still limping, he skirted past the crowds filling the sandy streets and slipped into the dark alleyway that would take him straight to his apartment. Sand Skimmers darted down the tarmac roads, the high-pitched whines coming from their rumbling engines filling Iggy's ears as he delved deeper into the alley. The deeper he went into the darkness, the more he wished he had a Skimmer of his own. He'd collected pictures and listings of a few, but he didn't nearly have enough credits to purchase one.

A few aircraft zoomed overhead, the noise echoing over the city. Most of them were small, likely not suited for long-distance travel, but he did spot a massive ship hiding beyond the clouds. A sneer twisted his lips once he spotted the golden wreath of the Elysian Empire printed alongside the grey hull.

The Elysian Army was here.

What they were doing here wasn't any of Iggy's business, though. All he cared about was getting back home to his mother.

After another few minutes of walking and avoiding the drunk homeless people loitering around his neighborhood, he arrived at his apartment complex. He kept his head down and hands hidden in his pockets. No one bothered him on most days. It wasn't because he was intimidating or anything. Most people never realized he existed.

That was fine with him. Less attention usually meant he'd live longer than the average person.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside.

The lights were off. Barely any light from the fleeting sun outside made it through the thick curtains draped over the single window near the door. Squinting through the darkness, Iggy flicked on the light switch and made his way through the living room, which also doubled as their kitchen.

The apartment was barely big enough for two people. His mother took the only bedroom while he slept on the stiff sofa near the front door. Iggy didn't complain; they still had running water and electricity, and the rent was cheap enough for him to keep up with the payments. It might not have been much, but it was home.

Well, as much of a home as he had ever known.

He didn't remember many memories from Yensari. Just faint, notions of a better life. Sometimes in his dreams, he saw white beaches, verdant waves, and a sapphire sky dotted with fluffy clouds that reminded him of the sour candies he liked to eat.

He couldn't miss it, as he barely remembered what it was like. Novr and its sandstorms, oppressive police, and shady characters were all he knew.

Yensari had to be better than there.

Anywhere was better than the desert.

Sighing, he journeyed into his tiny kitchen. He grabbed the medkit tucked beneath the rusty sink and went to work on his ankle. His father's teachings rang in his head as he wrapped the bandage around his ankle. It was tight enough to stop the bleeding, but not tight enough to cut off the circulation. Just how he was taught.

He smiled at the memory of his father.

Most days he rarely thought about him. It was easier not to. But after what happened in the mines, he couldn't keep the man off his mind.

Dry coughs poured from the room down the narrow hall across from him. His face fell. After making sure his leg was secured, he grabbed the bottle of pills on the counter and made his way to his mother's bedroom.

From the looks of it, she hadn't moved from her bed all day. She was getting worse. A half-empty glass of water sat on the nightstand next to her cot. Blankets were draped over her frail frame, leaving her face exposed to the stuffy air within the room. Her paling, olive-toned skin was slick with sweat and her dark eyes fluttered as coughs racked her body.

Iggy shared her complexion, as most Arigorii did, but she always told him how he had his father's eyes. They were greener than the waters of their homeworld.

"Iggy?" She lifted her head slightly.

He rushed to her side and urged her to lay back down. "Sorry I'm late, aurata," he apologized, slipping into his native tongue of Arigorii for a moment. "You know how traffic in the city can get."

"It's okay, dear." She lovingly patted his cheek with a weak hand.

Iggy pressed the button built into the pill bottle. It spat out