He didn’t know if they would encounter any guards. He was taking his people to a secondary entrance, one deep in a fully automated area of the plant. It was likely—possible at least—that there would be no defenders in place.

He moved forward, looking all around as he did. They were slipping out of the total darkness, into the faint glow that surrounded the plant. The land widened out here too, the cliff dropping quickly down to sea level and opening into a wide plain. It was easier ground to traverse, but if there were any enemy soldiers in the area there was a far greater danger of being spotted.

Rivera moved forward, his legs feeling like sacks of wet sand, resisting every effort to push forward. The cold, the fear, the fatigue…he didn’t know how he managed to take each step. But he did, and his companions did too. In a few moments, they were walking around the edge of the refinery. The walls were metal, rust-resistant, but still covered in a thick coating of slime and debris from the crashing waves. The main entry to the control center was around to the other side, higher up, farther from the sea’s fury.

Rivera could hear the sound of the giant intake valves farther out, sucking in millions of liters of seawater. Santis’s oceans had a far higher percentage of the precious hydrogen isotope than those on most occupied worlds, but it still took massive volumes to produce meaningful quantities of the nuclear fuel.

“The entrance should be just up here.” Rivera had only been down in this area of the refinery once, and he’d only seen the door he was seeking from the inside. But he knew it wasn’t far.

He was also aware that many of the lower levels of the refinery were highly radioactive despite the bots that frequently scrubbed the area down. It was unhealthy certainly, even more so than the planet itself was, and he suspected if they wandered into the wrong spot, they could get a lethal dose. But there was no choice, no other way.

He walked another twenty meters, turning as the building recessed inward…and he saw the door. He ran up, his eyes settling on the locking mechanism. He still had his passcard, but he didn’t know if the enemy had reprogramed the locking systems. That would be a considerable project, he knew, one they might not have completed yet. But if they did, his card would do little more than alert them to his presence. Still, it was a chance he had to take. The door was tough, and the only way they’d get in would be to blow it. And an explosion wasn’t going to do anything to aid their stealth.