Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
I move my mech off the transport ramp with shaky legs and a heart still drumming from the final jump through Valis orbit. Dust whips around me, and the industrial skyline of the moon sprawls away. Rusted machinery, jumbled scaffolding, flickering neon signs near the distant salvage yards.
It’s good to be back, even if the air smells like scorched fuel and chemical runoff.
I guide Raven One’s big feet down the ramp. The mech’s plating is still riddled with scorch marks, but somehow, she stands proud. Probably not half as battered as me.
Above the distant hum of cargo lifters, Tabitha coos in my headset, thick with satisfaction. “We’re home, and with stuffed pockets. Remind me again, how many zeroes are in that credit account?”
Her playful tone makes me smirk. “Enough to overhaul half of this place,” I reply. I can’t help a flicker of pride as I take in my mech. Only a short while ago, that monster chain gun put holes in my plating, but we powered through.
Good thing I didn’t notice the hole right away, or the party would have been a real shit-fest when I fainted on the floor.
Tabitha hums in delight. “I’ve crunched the payouts. We can do a lot of damage with that. Upgrade your thrusters, invest in anti-radar paint. Ooh, maybe both.”
“You and your thruster obsession.” I laugh. My mind is still barely coming down from the adrenaline. “Speed’s great, but I’d like to stay in one piece, Tabi.”
She snorts. “I like you in one piece, too. Life’s more interesting that way.”
When we reach the hangar, Raven One lowers into a stand-by posture with a metallic hiss, letting me clamber from the cockpit. A swirl of chemical dust stings my nose with Valis’ trademark greeting. My boots hit the scuffed floor, and the relief that floods me is overwhelming.
This place is my home base, my fortress, no matter how many times I curse its leaky roof or flickering lights. The overhead lamps crackle and sputter as if they’re as tired as I am.
Today, they’re bright enough to reveal Patch leaning by the hangar’s side entrance, giving me a wide grin. He’d left the planet ahead of me and has been waiting to hear that I was safe. Sparks, her hair braided and pinned neatly at the nape of her neck, stands beside him with her arms crossed, eyes sharp. They both look smug.
“Home in one piece, eh?” Patch calls. “I half expected you to come back missing an arm or owing me triple for a broken cockpit.”
I laugh, swallowing the dryness in my throat. “You don’t get to collect if I’m dead, Patch.”
He steps forward to clap my shoulder. “True enough. Let’s keep you breathing.”
Sparks hovers behind him. She’s eyeing the blackened edges of Raven One’s plating, noticing the fresh scrapes and blast marks. The ghost of a grin tugs at her lip. “Is that chain-gun damage, or…”
I wave dismissively. “Long story, but we made it. No meltdown, no shortage of fireworks, and a caravan that ended up safe instead of scattered.”
Patch raises an eyebrow. “Heard rumors a giant war mech got hammered by a twerp rig. Word on the street is your Raven One is the rig that big brute encountered.”
I wipe the dust off my brow. “We got lucky. One well-placed railgun shot. Let’s say my aim is improving.”
Sparks flicks her gaze from me to the scorch marks. “Lucky, maybe. But I see the leftover bullet scars. Let me guess out loud one more time, David. Chain gun?”
I nod. “Yeah. The pilot had a monstrous chain gun, thick ballistic plating. Nearly tore me apart.” My throat tightens at the memory of that thunderous hail of bullets. I can still feel the rattle in my chest.
Tabitha picks up on my tension. “Knock, knock,” she teases, digital voice lowered to a near whisper in my ear. “You survived. So maybe next time we install an advanced polymer shield, right?”
Patch cranes his head, noticing I’ve paused to listen to Tabitha. “She got something clever to say?” he asks.
I grin. “No more than usual. Something about advanced polymer. She wants me to blow half my new funds on an experimental shield plating.”
Patch snorts, though his eyes sparkle with interest. “Well, from the looks of that rig, you might treat your lady AI to the plating she wants. You definitely got holes in that armor.”
Sparks crosses her arms, but her tone is warm. “I want to see how thick your bullet dents are, David. Maybe we can figure out an adhesive or bonding agent to seal the plating tight this time.”
I’m relieved that they’re already churning out ideas. “We can afford it. Actually, we can afford a lot now.”
Patch’s grin widens, and he gestures for me to come to the makeshift lounge corner. “Let’s see the spoils. You hauling a truckload of credits in the cargo hold?”
Tabitha cuts in, dripping with amusement. “He’s loaded, Patch. We could ditch this rust bucket of a hangar, find ourselves a real palace.”
Sparks lifts an eyebrow. “A palace? That might be nice, except we’d need to pay for staff, too, right?”
Patch pretends to look mortified, placing a hand over his chest. “Leave this place? Why would you leave the location that birthed your fame? That’s bad luck, kid.” He winks at me. “Besides, you’d be out a reliable salvage dealer. Not to mention, your monthly rent is probably about to quadruple with all these fancy upgrades you’re bringing in.”
I laugh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Look at you, so selfless. How are we going to survive if you quadruple my rent, old man?”
He waves dismissively. “Details between friends.” Then, he winks again. “More important is that you’re flush with credits, right?”
I root a small handheld slate from one of Raven One’s storage compartments. On the screen, the payout is clearly displayed, numbers that make my stomach flutter. “This is how many zeros I’m working with. Enough to pay back all my outstanding repairs, cover new gear, maybe hire specialists.”
“Specialists?” Sparks repeats, meeting my gaze. “Never thought we’d outgrow this place.”
I shrug. “Never thought a half-scorched rig like Raven One would be enough to buy me a real seat at the table, either. But here we are.”
Tabitha chimes in. “If you want suggestions on specialists, I’ve compiled a list of top-tier mechanics, pilot trainers, circuit experts?—”
Patch cuts in, wagging a finger at the mech’s open cockpit. “Don’t let Miss AI run your finances into the ground. Next thing you know, you’ll have an entire legion on payroll.”
I jerk my head left, then right, to get a kink out of my neck. “I’ll remember that.”
Sparks touches my arm, pulling my attention back. Her expression is uncharacteristically soft. “I appreciate that you’re letting me see the numbers. You’re transparent about everything you get, everything we spend. I’ve worked with people who keep you in the dark until payday, then short you. Or never pay you at all. So, yeah. Thanks.”
The honesty in her eyes hits me hard. “Sparks, you’ve helped keep Raven One alive. I trust you, and I want you to trust this outfit, you know?”
She nods. “I do. Or I’m starting to.”
A moment of calm settles over us before Tabitha coughs in my earpiece. “We have a lot of sappy feelings right now, which is great. But also, can we address the holes in my hull? I’m not a fan of bullet pocks.”
I stifle a snort. “Yes, Tabi, we’ll fix Raven One. Sparks, you mentioned adhesives?”
She snickers. “Soon as we get a good batch from the supply yard, yes. Although you might want to look into polymer composites that can handle chain-gun impact better.”
Tabitha purrs in satisfaction. “Exactly what I was telling him. Let me run ballistic analytics in real-time, David. Then we can source the perfect composite formula.”
Patch tilts his head, gaze flicking from me to the mech and back. “You go do your nerd stuff, but count me in when you need salvage scrounged. I know a guy who parted out an old Federation gunship last month. Might have plating that suits your needs.”
Sparks smirks. “Only if you promise not to jack up the price too high.”
He laughs. “I’ll see what I can do.”
A hush fills the gloom of the hangar, and I realize my shoulders remain tense. I can’t rid myself of that jolt from earlier, the memory of chain-gun rounds raking across the cockpit. The sense that one inch in the wrong direction would have ended with me out in that desert canyon, buried in my mech.
Tabitha speaks through my earpiece, “You got that faraway look, soldier boy. Something bugging you?”
I exhale. I’m okay, just can’t stop replaying the chaos. “I guess it’s hitting me that I almost didn’t make it.”
“A near brush with metal oblivion. You handled it, and they didn’t,” she replies gently. “Now we handle the aftermath. I’ll run the ballistic analytics as soon as you give me the go.”
Patch waves, stepping toward the exit. “I’m heading out, kid. Got a lead on some sweet salvage. Might catch a break if I hurry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow about that plating?”
I give him a grateful salute. “Sure. Thanks, Patch.”
He shoots Sparks an amiable nod, then disappears through the side door. Sparks lingers, lips parted like she might say something else. Finally, she meets my gaze. “I’ll gather a list of adhesives that might mesh with polymer layering.”
“Thanks.” My voice sounds tired, even to me. “And Sparks?”
“Yeah?”
I pause. “Good job, you know? We…” I hesitate, pursing my lips. “We made it big out there. This is as much yours as it is mine.”
Her cheeks color. “Appreciate it, David. I never thought I’d have an honest partner, either.” Then, with a faint laugh, she strides out the hangar door.
Now it’s only me, Raven One, and Tabitha. Exhaustion drags at my legs. The overhead lights buzz, casting a wobbling glow on the mech’s battered hull. I step closer, resting my palm on the warm plating. A swirl of memories invades my mind. The caravan’s tension, the thunder of chain guns, the triumphant moment I crippled that war mech. Everything churns inside me.
“You’re so quiet, David,” Tabitha comments.
I inhale, my palm still pressed against Raven One’s armor. I’m alive, and we have actual money now, I remind myself. “I was thinking. We can do so much with these credits. Better armor, better failsafes, maybe even prep a second pilot. Or a second rig, eventually. This hangar might not be everything we need in the future.”
She hums, a soothing vibration in my earpiece. “You always dream big. That’s part of why I stick around. But you might want to remember the power of rest. You’re worn. I can read your vitals. Don’t make me scold you into bed.”
A laugh escapes me. “You’re not wrong. My arms are still shaking.” I ease back from Raven One, releasing a measured exhale. My chest squeezes with that old familiar worry. What if next time we face something bigger? Or if I push my luck one too many times?
Tabitha murmurs, “Hey, go easy on yourself. You’re allowed some downtime. We had a good run.”
She’s right. My shoulders relax a fraction. “Yeah. We did well.”
I cross the floor to a dusty metal stool and drop onto it. A beat passes before Tabitha encourages me, “Take a second. Breathe.”
I do. The dryness of Valis’ recycled air scrapes my throat, but it feels real, solid. I flick a glance at Raven One. “Think we should tear her down for a thorough tune-up?”
Tabitha’s answer is immediate. “Yes, please. Check the cockpit harness, the servo linkages, every circuit. Let’s do it right.”
Nodding, I set the mental to-do lists in place. We’ll replace the bullet-riddled plating, test a polymer overlay, run ballistic analytics. Probably add better cockpit insulation. Upgrade the failsafes. “I’ll get on that tomorrow. Might even snag extra thrusters, if you insist.”
She cackles. “I do love me some thrusting. Err, thrusters.”
“With enough leftover credits, we might even expand. This place is workable, but if we could get a hidden facility off the main Valis grid, we could avoid corporate eyeing us whenever we run big tests.”
Tabitha’s tone turns serious. “It’s an option. Stealth is good for a mech that’s turning heads and racking up kills in the desert. If you want, I can search remote vales or abandoned bunkers that might be for lease or sale under the table.”
My stomach clenches. “Let’s wait and see. Patch might have a meltdown if we left.” I picture the old man complaining about losing his star tenant. Still, I know in my gut that bigger leaps require bigger moves. “It’s possible, though.”
She doesn’t press, letting me dwell in the quiet. I rest my elbows on my knees, noticing the faint quiver in my hands. I’m so damn tired. Yet a sense of victory hums beneath it all. I clobbered a monstrous war mech with Raven One. I earned a payout that soars beyond anything I’ve held before. I made sure the caravan job ended without more casualties. People are safe.
As my eyelids start drifting, Tabitha cuts in, gentle and insistent, “David, don’t pass out yet. You still have to lock down the hangar. Someone might try to rummage through your haul.”
I snap awake. “Right.” Slowly, I drag myself to my feet and over to the wall panel near the big roll-up doors. The control board beeps under my fingertips as I engage the security locks. A few overhead lights flicker from orange to white, indicating the perimeter sensors are active. The system is piecemeal but reliable enough, leftovers from Patch’s salvage empire. Good enough to keep petty thieves out.
With that done, I roll out a stiff stretch in my spine. “All set. No thieves tonight, hopefully.”
Tabitha’s voice warms. “Attaboy. Now, sleep. You can dream of thruster upgrades if you want.”
I chuckle. “I’ll do that.”
I glance around the space that used to feel too large for me. Now, it’s cozy, even cramped, as if my ambitions have outgrown these walls. My mind teems with visions of new prototypes, expansions, hiring a real crew. Maybe someone to test advanced thrusters or a good AI whisperer for next-level AI expansions. Yeah, that’s a future we can afford now.
As I flick off the lamps one by one, only the meager glow of an emergency bulb remains. Raven One’s silhouette looms in the darkness, damaged but unbroken, proof that we don’t give up. I trail my hand across the metal scaffold near the mech’s leg, feeling the grit on my fingertips.
The hangar falls mostly silent except for the low hiss of the ventilation fans. My pulse slows, the day’s tension settling into a dull ache.
We can bring in more allies. Turn this motley crew from a ragtag operation into something that stands tall against the corporate giants that once laughed me out the door.
Three weeks later, I had spent a metric ton of credits, worked like a beast, and took a job that got me out of the workshop. This time, it was supposed to be easy.
In and out. Take some pictures. Score some creds.
So, here’s the full story.