Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
I’m perched in Raven One’s cockpit with my glove pressed to the primary throttle, convinced my heart is hammering louder than any servo motor beneath me. The hangar doors are cracked open, letting starlight spill across the concrete. Outside, the testing field is dark, save for a few floodlamps that throw shaky yellow patches on the ground.
Sparks stands off to the side with a portable console, her features lit in sharp angles by her flickering readouts. She’s wide awake, like me, neither of us willing to let exhaustion pull us away from the midnight test run that might mark our next breakthrough.
Tabitha speaks into my ear, her voice laced with sarcasm and genuine concern. “Engines spooling nicely, but do me a favor. Keep the thruster output below thirty-five percent. I’m not in the mood to fish you out of the stratosphere if you overshoot this time.”
I smirk. “Sure, T. Thirty-five percent. I’ll save the graceful faceplant for a more official demonstration.”
Sparks’ voice crackles over the short-range comm. “David, re-check your stabilizer alignment. Your previous meltdown fiasco nearly turned this place into scrap. Not looking for a sequel.”
We survived that stunt, barely. And if we could handle a meltdown that put half the hangar in danger, we sure as hell can handle a night test. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
Tabitha offers a gentle nudge. “Focus, soldier boy. No meltdown tonight, okay?”
“Promise,” I whisper. We’ve rebuilt Raven One’s power core to be more than stable, enough to handle the thruster load required for heavier lifts and rapid maneuvers. It’s time to prove it in the field.
I gradually power up the new thrusters. The cockpit hums, a gentle vibration circling my feet. Outside the hatch, the floodlamps flicker across the wide patch of hard-packed dirt behind our hangar. My breath catches in awe when Raven One’s systems align flawlessly. No sizzling sparks or blinking error screens for once.
Sparks calls, “Core output nominal, thruster feed at twenty percent. Looks smooth. Ready to raise it?”
I release a slow breath. “Yeah. Let’s try it.”
I push the throttle just shy of thirty. Raven One responds with a low mechanical purr, and I feel a push behind my spine, an eagerness. The new thrusters are definitely more powerful than the last ones we tried. The ones that threatened to blow a crater in the hangar if the meltdown had gone sour.
Tabitha hums. “Huh. Readings are stable. Surprising. You must’ve grown more cautious, or we finally got these thrusters right.”
The corners of my mouth twitch up. “Maybe both.”
“David,” Sparks interrupts. “I’m reading a slight spike in the left thruster cluster. Watch it.”
I glance at the readout on Raven One’s heads-up display. The left thruster hovers slightly above the recommended heat threshold, but it’s not crippling, so I keep the throttle steady. “Noted,” I reply. “I’ll keep her below meltdown territory. Promise.”
A subdued swirl of dust envelops Raven One when I lean forward, letting the mech’s legs shift. It’s not a traditional, towering war machine, only around eight feet. Still, there’s enough mass behind it to create a swirling cloud in the floodlight beams. The exoskeleton is a near-black alloy that glints faintly in the low light.
For all its rough edges and scrapped origins, this creation has become a testament to what we can accomplish.
“All right.” Sparks flicks a button on her portable console. “We’re turning on the acoustic dampener so we don’t alert half the moon to a railgun shot.”
Tabitha’s voice rises with tension. “Any shot over seventy percent will probably register on a long-range sensor array, so let’s not tempt fate. Keep the power levels discreet and the recoil manageable.”
“No fireworks?” I tease.
Tabitha’s exasperated beep echoes in my head. “Keep mocking, Wayne, and you’ll be the one spitting sparks.”
I bite back a laugh and focus on the readouts. More than anything, I want to see that railgun function in real time. Sparks spent days soldering new circuit boards to ensure this weapon wouldn’t blow up on the first attempt. I tested the assembly in offline simulations, but that only proves so much.
“We’re good for a test shot,” Sparks reports. “I have a target set up about sixty meters out, a chunk of old plating. If the specialized slug disintegrates on impact the way we planned, we’ll leave no trace. Watch the heat buildup, though. That meltdown taught us a lesson or two.”
I nod, more to myself than anyone else. After tensing the joysticks, I swivel Raven One’s torso so the railgun angles at the target. My breath rattles. “Tabitha, real-time monitoring on the coil temperature. Keep your finger on the kill switch if it spikes.”
She exhales. “Roger that, boss. I’d prefer not to watch you get vaporized.”
“Love you too,” I murmur. Then, into the mic, I ask, “Sparks, how’s it look from your end?”
“It’s stable at seventy-five percent,” she replies. “We can push it, but let’s not blow the coil in the first test.”
I rest my finger on the trigger. A swirl of overlapping data and targeting reticles floods my HUD, courtesy of Tabitha. The wind is still. The dark hush of the night intensifies my awareness of each mechanical hum. I can feel the tension in my muscles, the leftover memories of scorched wires, the sting of narrowly dodged failure. This is it.
“David, on my mark,” Sparks states. “Three…two…one…”
I squeeze the trigger, bracing for recoil. There’s a sharp crack, compressed air rushing outward. Raven One shudders, but it’s a controlled recoil, not a meltdown lurch. A streak of light punches through the gloom, sizzling with faint electricity. The distant plating explodes in a muted flash. No bright burst, only a glimmer followed by the target’s immediate collapse.
A stunned silence blankets us. The specialized slug we designed disintegrates on impact, leaving only the warped plating behind. My pulse thunders in my ears.
Tabitha’s voice crackles. “Temperature’s climbing but within bounds. We actually did it.”
Sparks bursts over comm. “Yes!” she half-screams, a raw exhilaration I rarely hear from her. “David, you see that? Right where we aimed, minimal recoil, minimal flash signature. Damn near perfect!” Her excitement is so tangible that it chases a grin onto my face. This is the moment. The payoff for all the late nights, the half-burned circuit boards, the near disasters.
My hands shake as I power down the railgun. “Tabitha?” I prompt.
She chuckles. “You’re intact, the coil’s intact, Sparks hasn’t spontaneously combusted. I’d call that a win.”
I exhale, letting the tension drain from my shoulders. “Felt good,” I admit. “Let’s do a second shot for consecutive testing. Keep it low power. That meltdown taught us never to get cocky.”
Sparks collects herself. “I’m good with that. Another slug loaded. Be careful, okay?”
I can almost feel my AI rolling her digital eyes. “If he does something reckless, he’ll answer to me,” Tabitha warns.
I shift my limbs in the cockpit, reacquiring a second chunk of scrap plating farther out. “Let’s keep the acoustic dampener on. Last thing we need is some night guard from the local facility poking around.”
With the angle locked, I pull the trigger again. Another controlled blast rips the target, albeit with a sharper recoil that rattles the cockpit. Raven One’s readouts briefly flicker into the red, but Tabitha manages an immediate correction in the thruster alignment, and the system recovers. A parted chunk of metal flies off into the darkness, disintegrating near impact. When the dust settles, the second target is a crater, spitting sparks.
Sparks’ honest, bright laugh warms me. “Two for two. David, that railgun is a beast.” Her voice lowers in pride. “I’d say it’s stable. Congratulations, man.”
I can’t stop the grin. “We did it together,” I insist. “Couldn’t have done any of this alone.”
Tabitha makes an exaggerated cough. “And me. Don’t forget your beloved AI, who’s been patching your fiascos since day one. I’m proud of you, David. Truly.”
A lump forms in my throat. “Thanks, T.”
Sparks and I share a glance. Though she’s thirty yards away, I can see the shine in her eyes behind the portable console’s display. I flip the safeties on Raven One’s weapon system, then pop the cockpit hatch. Cool night air seeps in, relieving the flush of heat from the thruster vents.
I climb out, hopping onto the ground with a huff. Sparks approaches, pulling off her engineer’s gloves. She’s rarely one to show big emotions, but a flicker of genuine pride lights her features. She holds her datapad at her side, staring at the smoldering crater where the target used to be.
“That was better than I dared to hope,” she admits. “Maybe we’re not doomed after all.”
I chuckle. “You sound almost optimistic, Sparks.”
She shrugs, a half-smile on her lips. “Don’t get used to it. But yeah, I’m optimistic.”
Tabitha’s voice emerges. “Should I leave you two alone for a congratulatory hug?”
Sparks flushes. “Tabitha, hush. I’m letting him have this moment.” Despite her protest, she closed the distance, offering me a quick, awkward side hug. More mechanical than affectionate, but it’s something. My chest tightens with gratitude. We overcame so much. This victory is as much hers as mine.
I glance at the battered plating a few yards away, the caked dirt smoking from the railgun’s hit. It worked exactly as planned. We can keep testing, refining the system until we’re unstoppable. My head buzzes. The night air tastes like hope and faint cordite, but mostly hope.
“So.” Sparks steps back. “We tested thrusters, we tested the railgun. Raven One’s stable. We have a real shot at bigger hunts, bigger contracts.” Her tone shifts from wonder to practicality. “But we can’t ignore it, David…we need money. All the meltdown repairs drained us. I can’t keep paying for raw materials if we have no income stream.”
I sigh, scanning the scuffed plating beneath Raven One’s feet. She’s right. We might have built something extraordinary, but the pile of bills in the hangar is about to tip over. “And since no official channels care to hire an unlicensed mech pilot, we need to get creative,” I add. “We need a job.”
“Mm-hmm.” Sparks looks away. “I can keep upgrading Raven One with scrap, but eventually, we’ll starve.”
Tabitha breaks in, uncharacteristically thoughtful. “I could run a data search on local opportunities. Mercenary listings, escort gigs, small-scale infiltration contracts. But, yeah, that’s a big step, David. When we commit to that line of work, we run into corporate oversight, rival merc groups, you name it.”
A flicker of guilt stirs inside me. I remember the hush money we used to keep the meltdown off official logs. We’ve already tiptoed around the law. “We’ll handle the consequences,” I reply firmly. “We have to. We built this mech for a reason. If official recruiters won’t accept me, we’ll show them they messed with the wrong scrawny pilot. Right, T?”
Her tone turns gentle. “Right. I’m with you.”
Sparks tucks her datapad under her arm. “I’ll start scraping black-market channels in the morning. We’ll see who’s willing to pay big for a stealthy, agile mech. We’re not a heavy-hitting juggernaut, but we’re faster and more precise. That might be worth gold to some folks.”
I nod, my gaze drifting to the distant crater. “Yeah, let’s do it. Patch might have leads, too.”
Sparks’ brow furrows, but she doesn’t argue. Patch has happily taken advantage of desperation in the past. “He did mention something about job postings. Need me to drag him over tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t hurt,” I reply.
Tabitha hums. “I’ll watch your back, David. And if Patch tries to gouge you, I’ll rearrange every digit in his bank account. Just say the word.”
I stifle a tired chuckle. “Peaceful solutions first, T. But I appreciate the backup.”
Sparks kills the floodlamps, plunging the field into near-darkness. Raven One stands like a silent sentinel, thruster vents still cooling, wisps of steam rolling off the circuit housings. A sense of calm descends, clearing the usual tension in my gut. This moment is perfect and fleeting.
“The meltdown fiasco was one thing,” Sparks comments. “But I’m sure we’ll face bigger storms if we start taking on mercenary gigs.”
I turn to her. “We’ll handle the storms. We built a mech from scraps in a busted hangar. If that doesn’t prove we can handle chaos, I don’t know what does.”
She smiles, softening her serious demeanor. “Guess so. Ready to lock up Raven One for the night?”
“In a minute. I want to run a quick systems check, see if the consecutive shots left any microfractures. Don’t want to be blindsided next time we test.”
Sparks nods. “I’ll help you with that.” She taps her console. “We’ll record the data, then get some rest. I’m half-dead on my feet, and you look about the same.”
Tabitha breaks in with a musical lilt. “Bedtime for the scrawny pilot?”
I roll my eyes. “You know, if you had a body, I’d make you do the heavy lifting.”
“If I had a body, I’d out-lift you on day one,” Tabitha replies.
Sparks snorts a laugh. “She’s not wrong.”
“ Et tu , Sparks?” I mock-groan. “Fine, fine. Let’s finish the check so I can sleep.”
We approach Raven One. Sparks aims her datapad at the plating, scanning for warping or cracks. I place my hand on the mech’s flank, feeling the faint warmth left by the thrusters. Pride wells up like a slow tide.
“You’re drifting off, David,” Tabitha breaks in. “Tired?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “But it’s a good kind of tired.”
Sparks cracks a grin. “No microfractures that I can see. We’ll do a deeper check in daylight. For now, let’s get inside.” She glances around warily, scanning the empty field. “I’ll lock down the outer sensors. Don’t need nosy neighbors asking why we’re blasting holes in the ground at one in the morning.”
I shoot her an appreciative nod, then step back to admire Raven One in all its midnight glory. The test was a success beyond anything we dared hope for. The gnawing voice in my head, the one that used to hiss You’re not good enough, you’re going to fail , is strangely silent, at least for tonight.
I duck my head and lead the way toward the hangar. Sparks trudges after me, dropping the portable console on a tool bench near the entrance. The overhead lighting is dim, flickering from the generator we still haven’t fully repaired since the meltdown. No matter how triumphant we feel, we still have a million practical problems to solve.
As we pass the main corridor, Tabitha chimes, “We’re going all-in with these merc jobs. Are you nervous?”
I pause in the gloom, blinking. Sparks lingers at my side as if she’s also curious about my answer. “Nervous? Yeah,” I reply. “But we need the money, and we have a machine that’s strong, discreet, and can do what bigger mechs can’t. Let’s use that advantage. If the official corp recruiters wouldn’t have me, fine. I’ll be better than them on my own terms.”
Sparks taps a spare wrench against the doorframe. “And if we cross some line with the big corporate types or local enforcers who hate unlicensed mechs?”
I swallow. “Then Tabitha can jam their scanners, and we scramble the sedation logs for any gate travel. We keep doing what we do best. Adapt and be careful.”
Tabitha responds with a calm confidence. “We can do careful. Just don’t expect me to be polite if they show up with guns blazing.”
I chuckle. “Deal.”
I exhale, leaning against the hangar’s metal wall, feeling the residual adrenaline slip away. Building Raven One was a brutal slog, but nights like tonight remind me why it was worth it. We’re on the cusp of something bigger, something that might pay enough to keep us afloat while letting me prove my worth as a pilot.
Sparks clears her throat. “I’m gonna crash soon. Tomorrow, I’ll poke around some less-than-legal job boards, see if there’s a short contract we can snag.”
I push upright and place a hand lightly on Sparks’ shoulder. “Hey…thank you. For everything. I know this has been stressful, and you probably?—”
She waves off my thanks, but her expression softens. “Don’t blow us up. That’s all I ask.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I tell her. “Go get some rest. You earned it.”
She dips her head in a tired salute before heading toward the makeshift bunk in the corner. Her silhouette disappears, leaving me alone in the hangar. Raven One towers behind me, an unspoken promise of all we’ve built.
Tabitha’s voice breaks the hush. “I’m proud of you.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” I murmur. “You’ve saved me more times than I can count.”
She clicks her digital tongue. “Only because you stubbornly keep pushing the envelope. But yeah, you’re welcome, David. Now, let’s get some shuteye and talk about merc gigs tomorrow. You’ll need your wits about you when dealing with Patch’s brand of negotiation.”
A grin tugs at my lips as I cross to the metal cot near the hangar’s far wall. “Right. That man is the definition of unscrupulous.”
Tabitha laughs. “You two are an odd pair, but if he can land us a paid contract, I’m all for it.”
I sink onto the thin cot, tipping my head back against the cold steel wall. Everything feels balanced, at least for now.
Finally, the day’s exhaustion catches up to me, flooding my limbs with heaviness. My eyelids droop. Before drifting off, I mutter, “Tomorrow, T. We find a job.”
She hums. “Tomorrow.”
Strangely, I feel no dread. Only a sense of possibility and maybe a small flicker of excitement for the battles ahead.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.