The final phase of the liberation was an act of razor-sharp demolition.
Floating in the central machinery bay of the Lux Sovereign, Unit Ren had clamped his single working iron chuck around the main high-pressure release valve of the drill hoist assembly. The seven-foot machine-grafted summon was running on emergency steam pressure. His dorsal pipe hub glowed dull cherry-red as he channeled maximum torque into the steel wrench.
“High-pressure bypass engaged,” Unit Ren reported, his gravelly clockwork voice echoing through the hollow hull. “Pressure in main drill hoist cylinders: nine thousand pounds of pressure. Manual safety interlocks bypassed. Awaiting execution command.”
On the watching bridge high above, Ren Prime stood beside the shattered quartz dome. He looked down at the cathedral-sized sphere of the living star.
Beside him, Apostate Ren held his shattered brass star-compass lined up with the ship’s zero-mass keel.
“When the drills disengage,” Apostate Ren warned, his raspy voice steady, “the star’s internal fusion pressure will expel fifty thousand gallons of tightly packed marrow into the drain tube lines. If the return channels are blocked, the back-pressure will detonate the volcano bowl floor. Unit must reverse the pump impellers at the exact split second of release.”
Ren Prime reached into his satchel, drawing a signal flare. A copper tube filled with dried sulfur and magnesium salvaged from the smugglers.
