Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I’ve barely set foot—well, mech foot—on Therasis before I’m convinced this desert moon wants to scorch me into oblivion.
Heat ripples off the sands in shimmering waves, and Raven One’s cockpit feels like a sauna jammed inside a sunlamp with a side of “Oh my God, I’m melting!”
I tug the collar of my pilot suit, cursing under my breath. Three weeks ago, I was savoring Durand’s fortress feast. Now, I’m alone out here with nothing but heat, dunes, and a suspicious job pinged by an unnamed source with Durand’s recommendation.
Think what you will, but when someone pays me well and seems to seriously guard their reputation, I’m willing to go out on a limb and believe their recommendation. And the money. I believe in cold, hard credits, too. Now, perhaps I’m doubting my decision-making process.
“Are you trying to sweat yourself to death, David?” Tabitha purrs into my ear with barbed sarcasm. “Because your heart rate says you’re two gulps of water away from total meltdown.”
I suck down precious water from my suit’s straw. A stale, plasticky taste coats my tongue, but it’s relief all the same. “Easy, Tabi. I need a second to adjust.” I sigh and remind myself that I chose this gig. The job’s details were vague. An unknown “fixer” offered me a stacked chunk of credits to investigate some hush-hush “military installation” in the Red Dunes. Durand vouched for the contact, as I mentioned. Said he didn’t expect a double-cross.
Maybe that should reassure me more than it does at the moment, crotch deep in sand, but I can’t shake the creeping unease that slithers through my stomach every time I think about how little I know.
I’d normally bring Sparks or Patch along for backup. Sparks to handle circuit nightmares, Patch to scrounge local intel. But they both vanished into their own side hustles this week. They have their own lives, but I still feel half-naked without them. I told myself I only needed Tabitha to watch my flank, and Vanguard, who I really should build a voice for. That we could handle anything, the two of us and Raven One.
After all, we’d taken down bigger threats before. Right?
“Kid,” Tabitha states pointedly, reading the spike in my vitals and shocking me with her use of the word I hate. “Don’t start second-guessing. You accepted an encrypted offer. You’d be bored if you sat in the hangar waiting for Sparks to come home, wouldn’t you?”
She’s not wrong. I need to prove, maybe to myself more than anyone else, that I can function without an entire entourage. Still, the moment I stepped off the transfer onto these blazing dunes, I felt the weight of that decision. A swirl of dust devils, suspicious eyes from shady port officials, and the sedation logs I had to forge so no one flagged my arrival. The hush-hush route cost me a chunk of recently earned credits.
I pick up a hauler to take me to a shadier location than the incredibly shady location I’d already landed at on the west side of a city that could be removed from the maps, and only their mothers would miss the inhabitants.
I need better clients.
I spot a rusted sign half-buried in red dust, proclaiming this scrap-littered hole as “Dock 17.” The place reeks of desperation and engine fumes, exactly the backwater black-market yard Tabitha predicted. I power down Raven One behind a jagged rock, crack open the canopy, and nearly choke on the furnace-grade heat. My AI speaks in my earpiece, edged with concern.
“Sure about this, David?” she asks. “This yard’s a thief’s playground.”
I grunt, stepping onto the scorching sand. “We need a shuttle off the books. No better place for hush-hush shipping than here.”
Two locals appear from behind a pylon. One tall, one short, both draped in sun-bleached scarves and tinted goggles. The tall one thumbs his sidearm. “What brings you to Dock 17?”
“Looking for a shuttle,” I reply, hands half-raised. “No official logs, no corporate tags.”
They exchange a glance. “Follow us.” The short one snickers against his makeshift inhaler. He’s called Singe, and the lanky guy is Mondo. Tabitha feeds me their rap sheets in a whisper.
They lead me beneath a patchy canopy, revealing a stubby, scorched shuttle. Its hull is a messy quilt of plating and secondhand thrusters. Perfect for disappearing from Federation scans. Singe takes another puff. “She can haul a mech if you angle it right. Transponder’s wiped.”
Mondo scowls. “Price is thirty thousand credits. Take it or walk.”
Tabitha hisses in my ear. “Pay it, but get something extra.”
I clench my jaw at the steep cost, but we have no choice. “Fine, but throw in a coolant assembly for my mech.”
They begrudgingly agree. Mondo gestures to a crate of spares. “That’s all you get.” Before transferring credits, I slot a data spike into the shuttle’s panel. Tabitha combs its code. “No sabotage,” she declares. “Thrusters run hot, hull’s got hairline fractures, but it’ll fly.”
I power it briefly, dust blasting as the engines spool. It lifts a meter before I set it down. “Good enough,” I mutter. Then, I finalize the payment. A sickening chunk of my funds flows to their accounts.
Singe offers a sarcastic bow. “Pleasure doing business. Storm’s coming soon, so clear out.”
Mondo spits in the sand. “We never saw you.”
“I’ll leave it where you can pick it back up.”
“You got seven days, or we come get it whether you still need it or not.”
“Right.”
It takes me slightly over three hours to find the best spot to land the thing so no one could find it using satellites. Further, Tabitha makes sure the “retrieve” command won’t work for fourteen days.
Plus, she changes the GPS location, so they’ll have to fly over to find it. I’m not getting stuck here.
Again, I take Raven One out into the sauna. I think Hell probably has drier heat.
I secure the coolant kit onto Raven One. My flight suit is drenched with sweat, the desert sun threatening to fry my stubborn hide. Climbing into the shuttle’s cockpit feels like entering a rusted oven, but at least it’s mine now. The engines complain, instruments flicker, but it groans into the air under Tabitha’s watchful management.
Wind buffets the hull, rattling loose plating. I grit my teeth, scanning the dunes ahead. We’ve left a small fortune behind, but this crate is our key to vanishing off Therasis unnoticed. Outside the cracked viewport, the sun beats down on shifting sands. I exhale sharply, gripping the controls. Tabitha’s voice is steady in my ear.
“All right, Tabi,” I whisper. “Let’s see if this handcrafted, black-market bird can fly us into the next nightmare.”
The mech’s external sensors beep in my ear, drawing my attention to a cluster of sand-swept rock spires ahead. Vanguard overlays readouts in the corner of my visor, calculating structural weaknesses and potential vantage spots. Meanwhile, Tabitha hums in her “girlfriend” tone, half playful, half protective.
Perhaps I could build her a body? My mind immediately shuts down that idea. I have no idea if she’ll go full-on murderhobo to any girls who get near me.
I push Raven One forward, each step swirling puffs of grit around the mech’s feet. The suit’s fans whir, but the heat creeps through every crack. I’ve tackled half a dozen missions in scorching climates before, but something about Therasis’ dryness, the way the dust infiltrates everything, sets me on edge.
“David,” Tabitha murmurs. “That micro-thruster at your left calf is flickering again. The heat’s not helping. Let me run an active coolant flush.”
“Go for it.” I’m already bracing for the jolt. When Tabitha triggers a coolant flush mid-operation, it feels like a chunk of ice stabbing into the mech’s circulatory system. The thruster shudders, and a faint hiss echoes through the cockpit.
I grit my teeth. “We’d better not blow a thruster out here, Tabi. I have zero intention of being the world’s first scrawny pilot to roast alive in the dunes.”
She replies sweetly. “Well, if we do, I’ll hack your comm, call for the cavalry, then scold you for all eternity.”
I bark a laugh that sounds more nervous than amused. The tension in my shoulders refuses to melt away. This contract is too murky. The only guarantee is the payout, big enough for major Raven One upgrades. Maybe new plating or advanced thrusters that don’t stutter in the desert heat.
That prize might push me to ignore the sweat trickling down my temples.
As we approach a rock spire, Tabitha’s sensor overlay flickers a highlight at the base. “See that?” she points out. “Looks like a crevice. Could be natural, or it could be an entrance to something. Maybe a supply hatch. Scan it?”
I shift Raven One’s stance, cranking the head-mounted camera to zoom in. “Yeah. Let’s see if it’s only a hole or if someone decided to bury a secret bunker under all that rock.”
I nudge the mech forward carefully, thrusters gulping stifling air. Dust churns around the foot actuators. The sense that I’m exposed, a single pilot in a fairly nimble exosuit that’s still vulnerable if an entire platoon is waiting, keeps me from letting my guard down. My chest tightens with each step.
“Tabi, do an active ping,” I mutter. “Short-range, low-power. See if anything’s hidden in that rock besides lizards and regrets.”
“Sassy,” she chuckles. “All right, soldier boy. Keeping it minimal so we don’t broadcast to half of Therasis.” My visor briefly dims as she runs the ping. Wind buffets the mech, pushing grains of sand across my line of sight. Then, data streams in. No major metal deposits, no man-made structures flagged. Hardly a guarantee. Smart operations use stealth alloys or bury deeper. But for now, it’s probably a crevice.
I exhale slowly. Maybe I should be thankful it’s quiet so far, I think, stepping away from the spire. The contract said something about a hidden facility but no specifics on how deep or how large. Of course, that’s helpful. Like searching for a needle in a desert. My anxiety is an almost constant hum in the back of my skull.
At least there are no twenty-foot mechs with ’nads of steel waiting to use me as their plaything. I’d have to reject the offer as politely as possible.
No, I’m absolutely not thinking of my last job.
Tabitha picks up on my tension. “Let’s keep moving, David. Another hour of daylight left if we’re lucky. Might be wise to find higher ground soon.”
“Right.” I pivot and resume our trek across the dunes. The mech’s servo motors hiss, the heat causing more strain than usual. I tap on a side console. “Temp’s climbing,” I note, sweat beading on my brow. “We might need to run that second coolant cycle soon.”
“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll do it. But you’ll feel that ice pick again, so brace yourself,” Tabitha warns. “You still okay with going solo out here? I can’t forcibly drag you back if you get second thoughts.”
I swallow.I’m not exactly brimming with confidence,but I recall the fixer’s message. The promise of potential corporate ties, the payoff that could fund an entire second rig if we wanted. I let the memory stoke my pride. “We commit, or we go home empty,” I respond. “Let’s keep going.”
When dusk finally arrives, it creeps across Therasis in hard, slanting rays of gold. The temperature dips a few degrees, enough to keep me from sizzling in my own suit but not enough to exhale relief. My lungs feel scorched from hours of near-constant dryness. Tabitha’s commentary helps me push through. She cracks jokes about the so-called romance of a desert sunset. I grunt.
I’m absolutely grabbing that expensive all-weather pilot suit with internal and external temperature coils. That will be my gift to myself when I get out of here. No more being penny-wise and about twelve pounds of water dehydration foolish.
We find a ridge that might serve as cover from prying eyes. I slide Raven One behind a curved outcropping of rock and set the mech to standby. My shoulders ache from the tension of hours scanning the horizon for trouble. Outside, the whine of wind picks up, rattling small stones against the mech’s legs.
Tabitha emerges in my earpiece. “All right. Let me run external scans if you want a minute to breathe. It’s not exactly a five-star hotel, but at least we won’t be roasted if we tuck in here for the night.”
I flick a switch, letting the cockpit canopy partially slide open to vent trapped heat. A wave of cooler air, if “cooler” means slightly less searing, bristles over my face. My limbs are shaky. “Thanks,” I mutter. “God, we need better environmental seals on the next iteration of Raven One. I’m one meltdown away from calling it quits and building a life on some breezy station.”
Her laughter is immediate, a comforting static. “You’re too stubborn to quit. But hey, dream big. Maybe after you bag this job’s credits, we can spring for fancy polymeric plating plus an actual cooling system that doesn’t have me ratio-managing every liter of coolant.”
I grin. “That’s the best pitch I’ve heard all day. And I’m buying that X-14AW suit, just in case.”
Night descends faster than I expect, the desert sky turning a deep, inky blue with pinpricks of starlight. My eyes burn from dust, and my suit’s vents do their best to filter out the swirling grit, but nothing is perfect. I shift in the cockpit, letting out a muted hiss of pain. Better get comfortable, I tell myself. I might be sleeping in here. The contract said to remain undetected. Setting up a tent would be about as smart as erecting a neon sign.
Tabitha hums another scan sequence, and a faint glow flickers across the cockpit displays. “No major signals within a few klicks,” she reports. “Doesn’t mean there’s not something deeper underground or beyond my range, but at least we’re not about to be jumped by pirates tonight. Probably.” She’s like a lawyer in that she always has a disclaimer.
I exhale. My heart still thuds, partly from the day’s exertion and partly from the knowledge that beneath these dunes might lie a full-blown base. “You think this is a hoax? Or maybe a trap?”
She’s quiet for a beat. “I don’t see Durand setting you up. He’s shady, but he wants you alive. You’re too useful. More likely, your contact is legit, but scared. That means we’re dealing with something big or lethal out here. Maybe both big and lethal, and there’s a possibility it’s politically motivated, too.”
A pulse of unease churns. Hope I’m not biting off more than I can chew. “All right.” I clear the dryness from my throat. “Let’s get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll do a broader sweep. If we can’t find anything, we’ll pack it up or head deeper into the dunes.”
Night in the mech is claustrophobic. I slump back, closing my eyes. At least I can hear Tabitha’s soft humming, some idle subroutine generating a lullaby of sensor pings.
My mind drifts to the sedation logs I forged in the local port. If the Federation ever does a real audit, I’ll be royally screwed. It’s not exactly restful to dwell on that. Still, exhaustion creeps up on me. I slip into a fitful doze amid the whir of spinning fans and the occasional rumble of wind.
Perhaps in the future, I’ll store mechs in different locations so no one sees me with a mech.
I snap awake sometime later, unsure how long I slept. My gaze darts to the console’s chronometer. Maybe four hours? The desert night is nearly pitch-black. Sweat gathers at my temples, and I realize I had a dream. Something about a giant war mech chasing me across dunes. I push that aside. “Tabi,” I mumble roughly. “Anything new?”
Her response is immediate. “Some minor sensor echoes about thirty minutes back. Could’ve been shifting sand or a small patrol drone, but it disappeared. I decided not to wake you since it never showed up again.”
I rub the side of my face. My heart taps faster. “Patrol drone? So maybe we’re not entirely alone.”
“Nothing’s confirmed. Could be anything, but we should stay sharp.” She hesitates. “Your stress levels peaked in your sleep. Nightmares again?”
I force a small laugh. “Yeah, dreams of mechs bigger than a starship. Nothing new.” I shift in the seat, ignoring the pang in my lower back. “We’ve faced big mechs before.”
“Sure.” Her voice is soothing. “Don’t let the nightmares talk you out of this. You want me to spin up a quick background search? Might calm you down if we learn more about local operations.”
I blow out a breath. “Would that trip too many sensors?”
Her confidence is reassurance enough. “I’ll do it on a tight beam. I promise to keep the footprint minimal.”
“All right. Thanks.”
While Tabitha runs her hush-hush infiltration of whatever local comm nets exist, I power up the visor’s night vision, letting me peer through the gloom. Jagged silhouettes of distant rock towers loom like watchful sentinels. Dunes stretch on and on, faintly silver under the starlight. The emptiness stirs a flicker of loneliness. I’ve always wanted to prove I can do big missions by myself, but I miss having the team around.
Before the self-pity can spiral, Tabitha chirps, “I snagged a few mentions of ‘Red Dunes restricted sector’ from some old message boards and one local guild chat. Might be hotspots of leftover corporate skirmishes from a few years back. The chatter is minimal. Like they were intentionally burying the details.”
“Which means someone’s definitely operating out here,” I muse. “Could be an off-grid factory, or an illicit base, or?—”
“Or a shitty pig farm producing black-market bacon,” Tabitha jokes, though her voice wavers. “Whatever it is, it’s hidden intentionally. You want to scout at first light?”
I chew my lip. “Yes. We’ll do a wide loop around these ridges. If we see drone activity, we track it. That might lead us to the facility. If not, we keep scanning.”
She’s silent, probably nodding in that imaginary way I picture whenever she agrees. Finally, she comments, “Sounds good. Try to rest until dawn. I’ll keep watch.”
I exhale to quell the tension. “Thanks, Tabi. You’re the best.”
She snorts. “You always say that when I’m on overwatch, but I’ll take it.”
Sleep doesn’t come easily. I drift in and out, half expecting an alarm or an ambush every time the wind picks up. Eventually, dawn reveals itself in a wash of deep gold creeping over the horizon. Another day of punishing brightness. I brace for the wave of heat before I open the vents.
Tabitha hums a greeting. “Morning, sunshine. I’m reading an incoming temperature spike. Today might be even toastier. You sure you don’t want me to bubble-wrap you?”
“Tempting offer,” I mutter, yawning. My eyes feel gritty, but I push it aside and re-check Raven One’s systems. Thrusters stable, coolant reserves at about seventy percent, armor unscathed. “Let’s move. We’ll do the loop before it gets too scorching.”
I close the canopy and ease Raven One out from behind the ridge. The first few steps are cautious. Past a certain threshold, I open the thrusters in short bursts, skimming across the flats. It’s a gamble since kicking up sand might be visible from far away, but it’s the quickest way to cover a ton of ground.
Ten minutes pass. My visor flickers with the usual readouts. Wind speed, temperature. Tabitha overlays lines representing the probable search pattern for hidden structures. I bank left around a cluster of rock spires, scanning for signs of scuffs or tire tracks. The desert is unforgiving, but even dunes can bear traces if you know where to look.
“David,” Tabitha calls suddenly, her voice urgent. “I’ve got a faint ping at our two o’clock. Some sort of heat signature, small. Could be a sensor drone. It’s behind that dune crest.”
My pulse spikes. “Let’s investigate, but quietly.”
“Quiet, huh? I’ll do my best.”
I bring the thrusters down to minimal, letting Raven One walk with subdued footsteps. Each step swirls sand around the ankles. Carefully, I allow my head to crest the ridge, peering into the next valley.
My heart thuds. Maybe half a kilometer away, a faint glint in the sunshine catches my eye. Through magnification, I glimpse a small, spherical drone perched on spindly legs, scanning the horizon. It’s the size of a backpack, painted desert-brown for camouflage. Not some random civilian bot. The shape reeks of a tactical recon drone.
“That definitely doesn’t belong to a farmer,” Tabitha observes. “We could jam it, but it would probably set off alarms.”
I swallow. “I want to see if it leads us anywhere. If it’s a guard drone, maybe it’s checking perimeter points.”
We wait, crouched behind the dune, for nearly ten minutes. The drone eventually shifts, thrusters whirring in near-silence as it glides to the southeast. “Follow from a distance?” Tabitha suggests.
“Yeah,” I agree. “We keep at least a five-hundred-meter gap in case it’s scanning for heat signatures.”
I pivot, descending the dune slowly. Anxiety flutters in my stomach. I’m alone if this triggers a chain reaction, but the curiosity, the pull of the job, overpowers the fear. This is how you find a hidden base, I remind myself.
You follow a drone looking for you back to where probably even more drones are looking for you. Solid plan, David. Solid plan.
The drone’s path snakes around dunes and rock outcroppings for almost half an hour. My nerves are raw as I keep Raven One’s footfalls measured. Tabitha does a masterful job modulating our signature, feeding micro-adjustments to keep us off any direct sensor sweeps.
Finally, the drone dips down a shallow slope toward a formation of dark rocks. From my vantage, I spot a thick metal hatch half-buried in the sand.
“That’s not natural,” Tabitha states, excitement weaving through her tone. “See the angle of the door? It’s reinforced plating.”
My breath catches. Found it. If this is the base, the contract might have teeth. We watch the drone settle onto a small docking station beside the hatch. A vent opens, exhaling a brief puff of heat. My heart hammers. Someone buried a facility here. There might be guards, advanced mechs, or who knows what. Part of me wants to bolt, but I didn’t come this far to chicken out.
“Let’s get closer,” I murmur. “I’ll try to circle that slope. Possibly find a vantage so we can see if there are more entry points.”
Tabitha pulses a confirmation. “Stealth mode, Talon. I’ll keep your thrusters subdued.”
I inch forward down a shallow ravine. Rocks tower overhead, cutting lines of shadow that dance on the mech’s armor. This is it. A secret installation that might belong to a splinter group, a rogue corporate outfit, or an old war faction. The tension is electric.
We creep within a few hundred meters of the hatch, ducking behind a cluster of jagged boulders. My sensors show no sign of large mechs or footprints, though that could mean they’re deeper underground. Tabitha is silent, scanning feverishly. Finally, she speaks in a hushed tone. “I see faint power readings beneath the sand but no direct access at surface level except that hatch.”
I clench my jaw. The contract wants evidence or data or something. I’m not even fully sure. The instructions were to investigate, confirm, and quietly feed intel back. However, my gut warns the moment I try hacking that hatch, I’ll get a swarm of trouble. “Maybe we should keep surveying. If they see Raven One, we’ll have a full fight. In sand,” I add. “And I really don’t want to fight in sand, T.”
Tabitha exhales in agreement. “We can try a remote infiltration if I can get close enough to a data node. That might set off alarms even faster, though.”
What a horrible bunch of options to pick from.
Sand shifts around the base of a boulder behind us, and I freeze, imagining sensor-laden turrets rising from the ground. My pulse jumps. But it’s only wind, swirling grit. Paranoia is going to stop my heart faster than any guard, I scold myself. That’s the desert mind game. Everything looks like a threat.
At last, I walk us backward, step by deliberate step, never taking my eyes off the sealed hatch. The drone sits motionless on its docking station, presumably recharging or offloading data. If I push my luck, I could slip in with an override spike and glean info. But does the job require me to infiltrate physically or only confirm the location?
Tabitha breaks my chain of thought. “You know, there’s probably a data cache inside. If we want proof, we’d need to plug in physically. Or at least get a reading from the hatch’s console.”
My hand trembles on the control stick. The risk is enormous. But that payoff could fund more than thruster upgrades. I swallow. “We’ll try to get close enough for a quick hack. Then, we hightail it out of here before they realize they’ve got uninvited company.”
Tabitha doesn’t tease me for once. “I’ll stand by. We do this fast. In and out.”
I nod, adrenaline spiking as I maneuver Raven One around the ridge, creeping closer to that half-buried metal door. We’re still eighty meters away, but I notice faint cracks in the sand near the entry, maybe air vents. My visor readouts flash. My heart is in my throat.
We pick our path carefully, trying to keep a boulder between us and the drone. Fifty meters, forty. The hush is eerie. Even Tabitha is uncharacteristically silent. At thirty meters, I pause, scanning for cameras. Nothing obvious. The perfect time for a nasty hidden sensor to blow our cover.
“I can send a narrow-beam infiltration,” Tabitha offers. “Might bounce off the door’s interface if it’s shielded.”
I inhale. Screw it. “Do it. We can’t go home empty-handed.”
A faint pulse transmits from Raven One’s array. My body tenses, expecting alarms to shriek. None do. The door sits inert. Tabitha’s data feed scrolls across my visor. “It’s shielded. I can’t get anything beyond a standard handshake. Shit, David, we might need physical contact with the console.”
Fuck. My. Life.
I exhale shakily. That means stepping out of the mech or letting Raven One’s servo arm do a manual override. My mind churns. One slip, and we’re pinned in enemy territory. Still, the job is the job. “We’ll do it manually,” I decide, forcing the waver from my tone. “Keep scanning for any sign of movement.”
Raven One edges toward the hatch. I can’t believe I’m about to crack open a random sealed door in the desert. My pulse thuds so loudly that I barely hear Tabitha’s whispered instructions. We close the last fifteen meters. The spindly drone remains perched in the corner. No motion yet.
I crouch Raven One and extend an arm, carefully aligning the makeshift data prong I keep in an externally accessible pocket for short-range infiltration. My hands are slick with sweat.
Metal scrapes faintly as the prong slots into a hidden port near the hatch’s edge. Tabitha’s voice is taut. “Reading partial encryption. Give me a second to decode. Pray they don’t have motion sensors.”
My mouth is chalky and dry. I watch the drone through Raven One’s cam feed. It remains still. Then, a quiet beep from Tabitha. “I’m in some subroutine. Minimal data here. Looks like logs referencing supply shipments and security rosters. That’s enough to confirm there’s a real base inside.”
Finally. Relief flutters. “Grab what you can, then we get out.”
Her data feed floods my visor. Suddenly, a shrill beep sounds from the door console. My blood runs cold. “Tabitha,” I hiss. “That wasn’t you, was it?”
An ominous hush. Then, Tabitha’s voice shakes. “Shit. We tripped an alert. Something’s activating behind the door.”
Panic stabs me. “We’re pulling out, now.” I yank the servo arm back, snapping the prong free. The hatch emits a low rumble. Sand shifts, and the drone whirs to life. My chest is a thunderstorm of fear. “Tabi, jam it!”
She’s already on it, blasting electromagnetic chaos. The drone sputters, but not before a red sensor light flickers. “We gotta go, David!” she yells.
I slam the thrusters, launching Raven One backward, sand exploding underfoot. A chunk of rock cracks beneath our mass as we scramble away. The drone rotates, trying to track us, but Tabitha’s jamming must be messing with its targeting. Bullets or lasers will be next.
We slip behind a dune rise. I keep the thrusters kicked high, tearing across the desert in a swirl of grit. My heart hammers so violently that I can’t catch a full breath. Over my shoulder display, I see no immediate pursuit, but that door was opening.
“Coordinates uploaded!” Tabitha shouts over the roar of thrusters. “We got partial intel. That’s enough. Let’s bail.”
I nod, my throat too dry to speak. The desert whips by, an angry blur of scorching dunes, while I pray we’re not about to see an entire squad of mechs cresting the horizon. We slalom between rock spires. The sun climbs higher, mocking us. My arms tremble on the control sticks, adrenaline surging. If we outrun them, maybe we can hide or slip away.
I’ve been bitching about the heat, but the massive heat signatures of the rocks around me help reduce my chaotic use of thrusters and minimize any ability to track me later.
That’s my hope, anyway.
Anti-gravity with neutral energy signatures. That’s what I need.
“David!” Tabitha hisses.
Right, the job at hand.
“Sorry, T,” I tell her. I’m focused, I am...but God, anti-gravity would be nice right now.
Minutes pass. The sensor feed stays clear. No sign of drones or mechs behind us, which is almost more unsettling. We park behind a new ridge, deeper in the dunes. My stomach does a somersault. We triggered something big back there. At least we have data, though. Enough to confirm the hidden facility is real. Supply logs, security rosters. Someone might pay well for that. However, we can’t stay here. They’ll likely search the desert after that alarm.
Panting, I let my head sag back. “Holy hell,” I manage. “You good, Tabitha?”
A shaky laugh comes through. “I’m spinning down the jamming routines. That was too close, David.”
I swallow, my taste buds scorched from dryness and fear. “We got what we needed, right?” My words emerge strained.
“Yeah. Enough to get paid, hopefully.”
I run a hand over my sweaty forehead. My body aches from tension, and the cockpit stinks of overheated organic gear. Namely, me.
Yet grim satisfaction pulses in my chest. We did it. No backup, just me and Tabi. And Raven One, of course. I still need to get off this planet in one piece, but at least I have a chance. My mind churns with half-formed plans to slip back to a safe pick-up zone, forging new sedation logs to avoid suspicious eyes at the port. The job is essentially done if I can vanish quietly.
The desert wind howls around our hiding spot, stirring up dust that peppers the mech’s plating. It’s alien and unforgiving, but it’s also exhilarating. My breath steadies. “All right,” I mutter. “Let’s head out. We’ll pick a path around the far side of these ridges, keep scanning for a tail, then find a route back to the jump gate.”
She’s briefly silent as though letting the tension settle. Then, she answers with a wry quip. “You sure you don’t want to go knock again, see if they left cookies for unexpected guests?”
A short, shaky laugh breaks my tension. “I think I’ll pass.” I push the thruster levers gently. Raven One eases upright, mechanical joints protesting. “Come on, Tabi. Next time, we bring more of the team.”
Her voice is bright but laced with relief. “You finally learned going solo is madness, huh?”
“I guess so. But for what it’s worth, thanks for having my back. With you, I’m never alone.”
“Always,” she whispers.
With the sun cresting overhead in a brutal arc, I guide Raven One around the ridge, mind spinning with how to slip off-world unnoticed. As the dunes stretch before me, I can’t help a faint flicker of pride.
We might be scrawny, outnumbered, and half-blind to the bigger players in this system, but we’re not helpless. We discovered a ghost base everyone else pretends doesn’t exist. If that doesn’t prove Talon’s worth, even when it’s only me and my AI, I don’t know what will.
Now, I need to travel over an ungodly amount of sand, sleep, do it again, and make it safely away.
The kick in the nuts is that, for all I know, there could be a massive effort to find some anomalous issue coming after me.
Or no one at all.
A few hours later, I find it wasn’t the latter when Tabitha says, “David, I found some interesting information in the data we pulled.”