(Arc 1) A Dangerous Idea (Changed)

The dim quarters hummed with the faint vibration of the mine’s machinery, but the air felt heavier than usual. Kade sat on the edge of his bunk, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the crumpled diagram Renn had given him the night before.

Lumos Project – Core Lighting for Luxury Living.

The words mocked him, burning in his mind like the blinding white lights on the propaganda posters scattered around the quarters. Work your way to paradise, they promised, as if there was a reward waiting for them beyond the dirt and sweat. But now Kade knew the truth: there was no paradise, just stupid light bulbs and lies.

Renn sat cross-legged on the floor, tapping a finger against his knee. “You’ve been staring at that thing for hours. What are you thinking?”

Kade didn’t look up. “I’m thinking about how much I want to burn it.”

Renn let out a dry laugh, but it was humourless. “Not much of a solution.” He hesitated, lowering his voice. “We need to do something, Kade. We can’t just keep working ourselves to death for this.”

Kade finally met Renn’s gaze, his jaw tight. “And what do you suggest? We just walk up to the overseers and tell them we quit?” Just an easy “I’m out, see you later” he said in a mocking manner.

Renn’s eyes flashed with determination as he snatched the document out of his hand. “No. I’m saying we fight back.”

Kade blinked, stunned into silence. The idea seemed impossible—reckless, even—but the longer he thought about it, the less it felt like madness. The overseers had rifles, armour, and authority, but they were only ever ten at a time. And they didn’t expect resistance.

Still, doubt gnawed at him. “Renn… we’re miners. We don’t have weapons. None of us are trained to fight. We don’t have—”

“—anything to lose,” Renn interrupted, his voice sharp. “Look at us, Kade. Look at this place.” He gestured to the cramped room, the rust-streaked walls, the thin mattresses shoved against corners. “We’re already living like prisoners. If we don’t try something, nothing’s ever going to change.”

Kade wanted to argue, but Renn’s words hit too close to the truth. He thought of his mother, her shoulders hunched over the dinner table, her voice heavy with resignation. He thought of his father, who’d stopped questioning the overseers years ago, beaten down by the weight of survival. Was this the life he wanted? Was this the life Renn deserved?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that day, Kade and Renn gathered in a quiet corner of the maintenance bay, far from prying eyes. A few of the older miners sat nearby, cleaning their tools and swapping gruff complaints, but most paid no attention to the pair.

“What if it fails?” Kade asked, breaking the silence.

Renn raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“The revolt,” Kade clarified. “What if we go through all this, and they crush us? What if they bring in reinforcements? We’ll be dead, and nothing will change.”

Renn leaned back against the wall, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve thought about that,” he admitted. “And yeah, there’s a chance we’ll lose. A big chance. But even if we don’t make it, maybe we’ll inspire someone else. Maybe other miners on other worlds will hear what we did and realise they don’t have to take this either.”

Kade’s brow wrinkled. He wanted to believe in Renn’s vision, but the stakes were too high to gamble on maybes. “Do you really think everyone here is going to risk their lives… for a chance to inspire someone else?”

Renn shrugged, his tone softening. “Not everyone, no. But some of them will. People like us, who know we’re being lied to. And maybe that’ll be enough.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of heavy boots approaching. Kade stiffened, his heart racing as an overseer passed by, his rifle slung over one shoulder. The reflective visor glanced briefly in their direction before moving on.

“You see that?” Renn whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Yeah,” Kade replied, his throat dry.

“Just ten of them,” Renn said. “They don’t even watch us all the time. If we hit them fast, we could overwhelm them before they call for backup.”

The overseers were outnumbered a hundred to one, but they had equipment, and years of training. The miners, on the other hand, had only drills, rocks, and desperation.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, Kade sat with his parents at the dinner table, the ration packets spread between them like a meagre offering. His father ate in silence, his jaw tight as usual, while his mother poked at her food, her expression distant.

“Long shift?” his father asked gruffly, breaking the silence.

Kade nodded, but he didn’t meet his father’s gaze. His thoughts were elsewhere—on Renn, on the overseers, on the fragile idea that had taken root in his mind.

“You’ve got that look in your eye,” his father said suddenly, setting his fork down with a soft clink.

“What look?”

“The look that says you’re about to do something stupid.” His father’s gaze was sharp, his voice low. “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it. Keep your head down, do your job, and stay alive.”

Kade bristled, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “And what’s the point of staying alive if this is all we have? Eating sludge and breaking rocks for someone we’ll never see?”

His father’s eyes narrowed. “The point is survival. Your mother and I—”

“Don’t drag Mom into this,” Kade snapped, his voice rising.

His mother flinched, her hands trembling slightly as she set her fork down. “That’s enough, both of you,” she said softly. Her voice carried no anger, only exhaustion. “We’ve all had a hard day.”

Kade bit his tongue, forcing himself to stay quiet, but the resentment burned in his chest. His father didn’t understand. He didn’t see the lies, the injustice, the sheer waste of everything they were giving.

After dinner, Kade sat alone on his bunk, staring at the faint glow of the propaganda posters outside the quarters. The clean, smiling faces promised freedom and paradise, but now all Kade could see was the word lie.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Renn pulled Kade aside before their shift. His face was serious, his usual grin replaced by a look of quiet determination.

“I’ve been thinking,” Renn said. “If we’re going to do this, we need to talk to people. Figure out who we can trust.”

Kade hesitated. The idea of sharing their plan made his stomach churn. What if someone told the overseers? What if they were caught before they even started?

“You’re scared,” Renn said, reading Kade’s expression.

“I’m not scared,” Kade replied, though his voice betrayed him.

“It’s okay if you are,” Renn said, his tone soft. “I’m scared too. But we’ve got to try, Kade. We’ve got to do something.”

Kade sighed, the weight of Renn’s words settling on him. He thought of his mother’s sad eyes, his father’s harsh words, the miners who worked themselves to the bone for nothing.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s talk to people. But we’ve got to be careful.”

Renn nodded, his determination returning. “Careful is my middle name.”