Novels by Nawala Sastra

"You're not going to shoot, Thorne," Rangga rumbled, his voice carrying the deep, sub-audible vibration of grinding bedrock as he took another heavy, unyielding step across the slick metal gantry. "Your hands are shaking too badly, and your corporate masters aren't coming to pull your trigger for you.""Shut up! Shut your mouth!" Thorne screamed, a hysterical edge fracturing his voice as the heavy-caliber service pistol jerked wildly in his white-knuckled grip. "I am a regional director! I built this concession from a barren rock face into a billion-credit extraction engine! You don't get to walk away from my terminal!""You didn't build anything, Thorne. You just watched from an air-conditioned office while the mountain crushed everyone else," Arung spat back, his voice tight with pain as he leaned heavily against Rangga’s stone-clad side, one hand pressed hard against his cracked ribs. "Look down at the pier. The oversight vessels are already moving in. Your security codes were revo

"Drop the weapon, Thorne! Your career, your syndicate, and your extraction license are already floating out to sea in a hundred thousand data packets right now!" Arung shouted, hauling himself up through the hatch and pressing his back hard against Rangga’s stone-clad flank to keep from collapsing."Shut up! Shut your bloody mouth, Arung!" Thorne shrieked, his finger tightening convulsively against the trigger guard as his manic gaze darted between the two men. "You ruined everything! Ten years of extraction surveys, millions in capital investment, and the entire southern concession gone because two low-level paper-pushers decided to play heroes!""You didn't invest capital, Thorne; you buried miners alive to cover up your seismic tampering!" Rangga rumbled, taking a deliberate, heavy step forward that made the rain-slicked steel gantry groan in protest. His calcified left arm caught the pale glare of the overhead crane lights, gleaming like polished granite under a layer of dark, har

The heavy iron service hatch blasted upward with a deafening screech of rusted metal, sending a flurry of flaking paint and industrial soot spiraling into the damp, salt-laden air of the loading gantry. Rangga burst through the opening first, his massive, stone-bound shoulder slamming aside a dangling stack of cargo chains with terrifying, unyielding momentum. He dragged his heavy frame onto the rain-slicked steel decking, his right hand instantly snapping up to shield Arung as a blinding sweep of searchlight beams cut through the gloom."Step away from the ladder, you pathetic, ruined freaks!" Director Thorne’s voice shrieked across the open gantry, cracking with hysterical fury and manic desperation.Thorne stepped out from the shadow of a towering crane housing, his expensive corporate suit torn, blood-spattered, and soaked through with cold coastal rain. In his trembling, sweat-slicked hands, he clutched a heavy-caliber service pistol, the muzzle wavering wildly between Rangga’s i

"And what happens when we pop out on the upper gantry and walk right into an ambush, Rangga?" Arung wheezed, his fingers tightening convulsively into the coarse fabric of Rangga’s jacket as they slogged through the final stretch of the bilge. "We didn't crawl through a mile of industrial grease just to be executed on a loading dock like stray dogs.""You worry too much about dying for a man who is already half-stone," Rangga rumbled back, his voice carrying the ominous, scraping weight of sliding tectonic plates. He planted his heavy right boot against the rusted rungs of the vertical service ladder, his calcified left arm locked rigidly at an unnatural angle to keep the stone-bound joints from freezing entirely. "When we reach the top, stay behind my shoulder. Let them shoot at something that won't bleed."Before Arung could fire back another sharp retort, Rangga hauled his massive frame upward, the sheer density of his mutated muscle and mineralized bone groaning under the strain as

"Keep your footing, Arung. If you slip into this toxic soup now, not even the mountain’s heat will burn the poison out of your lungs," Rangga rumbled, his massive, stone-bound shoulder scraping against the narrow riveted ribs of the cargo freighter’s ballast tank as he waded through the knee-deep, oil-slicked sludge."Easy for you to play submarine when half your body is practically a block of granite," Arung wheezed, his voice tight with pain as he clung desperately to the back of Rangga’s heavy jacket. Every step through the churning, stagnant bilge water sent a blinding spike of agony tearing through his cracked ribs, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to lose his grip in the pitch-black void."We are through the worst of the drainage tunnels. The service ladder to the loading gantry is just ahead behind the primary bulkhead," Rangga said, his deep voice vibrating through the cramped steel chamber with an unshakeable, terrifying resonance."And what happens when we pop out on the u

"I am not crawling through a mile of toxic sewage and rotting fish guts just so you can protect your designer trousers, Vane. Move, or I will pick you up and throw you down the hatch myself," Rangga snarled, his voice a low, grinding rumble like shifting bedrock. He gripped the heavy, grease-coated dog-latch of the maintenance hatch with his normal right hand, wrenching it upward with a deafening screech of stressed iron.Vane recoiled from the opening, his nose wrinkling in sheer revulsion as a thick wave of stagnant, oil-slicked vapor billowed out from the dark void below. "That isn't just sewage, you lunatic! That's the primary bilge and ballast overflow for the lower decks! It's choked with industrial runoff, heavy metal sludge, and decades of stagnant bilge water. My skin will literally burn off if I touch that water!""Then hold your breath and try not to splash, because the corporate biometric scanners at the main terminal gates just flagged my face three minutes ago," Arung sn