I got warning from the Nineteen Eighty-Four scant milliseconds before the detonations reached me. Fountains of regolith and stored Helium-3 erupted into the air, driven high by shaped mining charges placed against the ceilings of surface tunnels.

Laser comms dissolved into static under the expanding dust cloud, the suit downshifting its comms frequences to near- and far-infrared and then onwards to directional VHF radio before a link could be restored.

I had the other drone suit off to my right, blankly still observing a spaceport now seen only in wavelengths outside the visible. Of the drone pair investigating the mine, only one responded.

“Kurzweil to Big Bird, we have a unit MIA on the surface. Repeat, Drone Four is unresponsive. Last known position on Threeworld surface investigating explosive decompression. Please advise on search-and-rescue, over.”

“Big Bird to Kurzweil, go ahead and start pinging for the MIA. We’re on comms with the Synod regarding recent developments.”