Callsign: Talon (Fueled By Fury #1)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Night creeps in like an ambush predator, painting the dunes in shadowy gray beneath an endless scatter of stars. I hover inside Raven One’s cockpit, nerves on edge as I toggle off every nonessential light. In the hush of recycled air, I catch my pulse thrumming in my ears.

After running a stealth check on the thrusters and the newly fitted plating, I dare to flex the mech’s legs, letting the joints settle with a near-silent hiss. So far, no alarms. No bright beams sweeping our way.

“Finally, something resembling quiet,” Tabitha murmurs. Her voice stabilizes my hammering heart. “I’m glad you’re still breathing. Because these rotating sensor drones? They’re a real charmer.”

I nudge Raven One forward, mindful of each footfall in the sand. I can’t see them yet, but I sense the drones overhead, thanks to cross-referenced readings flickering at the corner of my visor. “Spot anything new on their flight paths?” I whisper.

She hums. “Got a pattern. They’re searching wide arcs around an outpost. Probably a command tower that’s feeding them real-time data. All these signals mean they expect trouble, or they’re paranoid as hell. Possibly both.”

My breath snags. Tabitha’s pointed out the last known coordinates for a hidden facility buried out here, so paranoid or not, they’re definitely guarding something. If I manage to slip in, maybe I’ll snag proof of their bigger operation. My scalp itches with the memory of how these dunes nearly roasted me earlier. But the night is a different beast.

I lean back, letting the cockpit’s new coolant system come online. It blasts a wave of frigid air up my spine, and goosebumps prickle my arms. I give a low hiss. “You really had to run it at maximum strength, Tabi?”

She chuckles. “Heat or freeze, pick your poison. This plating can mask our mech’s energy signature from routine scans, but it’s an oven if we’re not cycling coolant. Unless you prefer to sweat out your body weight, I’m calling the shots here. I’ll dial it down if you’re about to become an icicle.”

I emit a shaky laugh. “Better a small chill than a ballistic round in the head, I guess.” I coax Raven One behind a low rise of gritty dunes, the mech sinking softly into the sand. Another staccato beep on my visor signals a fresh set of sensor pings from above. My pulse quickens as I watch them triangulate the area short of our position.

“All right, soldier boy,” Tabitha announces. “Those drones are pivoting. Could be a random sweep, or they might have caught a flicker.”

I clench my hands around the controls. “Flicker from what?”

“Maybe the coolant exhaust or residual thruster heat. You want me to jam ‘em?”

My heart hammers so hard I swear I can hear it echo. A full jamming burst would scream, “Intruder here!” if they’re monitoring for unusual signals. “Give me five seconds, Tabi. Let’s see if they pass first.”

She doesn’t respond for what feels like an eternity. My visor dims to near blackout as she restricts even that minimal power usage.

We wait. A faint mechanical hum ripples through the overhead sky. It’s distant but growing in pitch. The dunes, now a tapestry of starlit ridges and shadows, provide a precarious hiding place. Silence envelops us, broken only by the subtle hiss of the coolant lines. At last, the hum drifts away.

Tabitha exhales in my ear. “Looks like they’re continuing their route. Let’s keep edging closer to that ridge. We can’t linger out here all night.”

I draw a measured breath. After easing the thrusters to the lowest setting, I push Raven One forward. Sand shifts underfoot, making the mech’s ankles groan. I grit my teeth, willing our approach to remain silent. The last thing I need is a big, crunchy slip that draws every scanner for miles.

In the distance, a dim flash arcs across the horizon. Cargo flares, possibly decoys meant to spook intruders or keep them guessing. I squint at the glow. “Think those flares are to throw us off?”

Her voice crackles. “No direct reading, but they’re definitely messing with heat sensors. My guess? They’re illusions to confuse anyone who’s not keyed in to the real outpost signature. Fancy.”

I smirk. “I appreciate the paranoia.”

Tabitha’s voice lowers. “Paranoid, or they’ve got something big hidden out here. And we are definitely the idiots creeping around after dark.”

I don’t argue. She’s not wrong, but still. Big risks, big payoffs. That mantra has carried me from a scrawny outcast to a pilot forging his own path. I dip Raven One behind a squat rock outcropping that juts from the sand like a broken fang. The sensor feed flickers across my display. A new wave of scans is inbound.

“David, they ramped their sweeps. We have a localized spike.” Tabitha’s tone sharpens, and her worry burrows into my chest. “Cut thrusters now.”

I obey instantly, slamming the shutoff. Raven One’s momentum propels us into a frantic slide down the dune’s slope, the cockpit rattling as my harness digs into my shoulders. Sand billows around us in a rolling wave, glittering specks in the starlight. For one terrifying second, I’m convinced we’ll tumble end over end.

With a click of the controls, I manage to brace the mech’s limbs. We skid to a shaky halt at the bottom, half-buried by shifting sand. My lungs burn with a breath I forgot to exhale.

“Stay still,” Tabitha whispers. “They’re scanning right overhead.”

I swallow. We’re practically hugging the underside of this ridge. The angle might shield us from the detection beams if we don’t move. Above me, I sense a heavy mechanical presence again, the drone whine more insistent this time. My heart thrums so loudly that I worry the mech’s internal mics might pick it up and broadcast it across the desert.Ridiculous, I know, but dread rarely listens to logic.

The hum intensifies, overshadowing the faint rustle of sand. Then, a bright sweep of blue-white light arcs across the ridge. My visor automatically dims to protect my eyes. I can’t even muster a breath as the glare wavers, then slips away.

About ten seconds later, it repeats. Panic churns in my gut. If they do a double pass, they might notice a weird shape slumped behind the ridge. I flick my gaze to the sensor feed. The local sweep indicator’s climbing dangerously, dancing just shy of full detection.

Tabitha’s voice is the most controlled I’ve heard in ages, scanning data in real-time. “We’re good. They’re chasing the flares out by the dunes. Probably saw a minor anomaly and want to confirm if it’s a phantom or an actual intruder. Lean on the side of phantom, please.” A half-second passes. “Come on, you paranoid bastards, look the other way…”

Her final phrase is a growl, and tension flickers in her simulated tone. If we get pinned out here, we’re done. The outpost’s command tower might scramble heavier mechs within minutes, and I’m not geared for open combat in these conditions. Not alone.

I can’t survive a direct firefight if they field anything bigger than a scout rig. The knowledge stings. But that’s the trade-off for infiltration. Low armor, high stealth.

Finally, the beep on my sensor feed downgrades from red to an amber caution. The drone hum recedes over the ridgeline. I slump back into my seat, pulse thrashing like I ran a marathon. We’re alive. For now.

Tabitha exhales with tangible relief. “They brushed off the signal. Lucky us. Let’s hope we can snag more intel without another close call.”

With caution, I pry Raven One out of the half-buried position, letting the servo joints slowly rise. The dunes have a nasty habit of swallowing you if you stay motionless too long. The limbs respond with a faint squeal, and I freeze, terrified it’ll echo over the sands. Nothing so far, only the faint swirl of wind. Still, I let a few extra seconds pass.

When no alarms blare, I push off and drive the mech forward in slow, measured steps, the angle of the ridge falling behind. The hush of the desert night creeps back in, punctuated by my ragged breathing.

“You all right?” Tabitha nudges. “Your heart rate’s through the roof.”

I swallow dryness. “I’m… Yeah. I needed a second.”

She adds in a subdued voice, “I know I tease you about being all scrawny hero, but you’ve got guts coming out here alone.”

My lips twitch into a subtle grin. “Guts or stupidity. Might be the same gene in my DNA.”

She laughs. “We can do an analysis sometime. For now, keep your eyes on potential camera arrays at the foot of that big outcropping. I’m reading faint metals. Could be a turret base or a sensor node.”

Through my dim visor feed, I spot a jagged cluster of rocks that almost looks artificially angled. A tiny pulse radiates on my HUD. Definitely non-natural composition. “I’ll approach from below,” I decide. “I might be able to plant a counter-ping if it’s a sensor node.”

“Be careful. If it’s rigged with automated defenses, you’ll have a face full of plasma in about half a second.”

No pressure. I push Raven One closer. The rock formation stands about two stories high from the sand floor. I expect a hidden turret to pivot around and blast me, but no movement so far. Edging close, I let the mech’s servo arm extend with the built-in data prong. I inch it toward the suspicious metallic panel half-buried behind a chalky sheet of rock. My nerves prickle so fiercely that even the cold coolant lines can’t quell the sweat creeping down my neck.

“Almost there,” Tabitha urges. “Steady, soldier boy.”

One more step and the servo arm latches onto the panel. My gut clenches. This is when everything might go south if the device triggers a silent alarm. Quick as I can, I run a short data spike, an infiltration subroutine Tabitha designed to feed the sensor node random environmental data, effectively turning it blind to our presence.

A swirl of code rushes across my visor, bright lines rippling as the node attempts to push me out. Tabitha hums with focused intensity. Come on, come on… My breath catches as the feed crackles with encrypted chatter. Then, it stabilizes, like the system has accepted a new directive.

Tabitha’s triumphant murmur resonates. “We’re in. I’ve got a partial link to their local sensor net. We can feed it fake data if we want. It’ll take them a while to notice.”

A surge of adrenaline-laced relief floods me. “Nice job. That should keep them from painting a bullseye on us. Let’s see if we can push deeper.”

Exhaling, I retract the servo arm and skirt around the formation. The star-strewn sky gives me barely enough light to steer by. Every muscle in my shoulders aches from tension, but I keep moving. Tabitha runs the infiltration in the background, filtering any suspicious signals and forging them. The dryness in my mouth intensifies. We’re not out of the woods yet. Or out of the dunes, more like.

Keeping Raven One’s thrusters offline, I trek through an uneven passage flanked by towering boulders. Despite the relatively open path, claustrophobia gnaws at me, like the walls might close in if the outpost notices a glitch in their sensor net. “Anything else on the scanners?”

Tabitha’s voice sweeps in. “So far, no new heat signatures in range, but we are pushing deeper into the perimeter. If there’s a guard patrol, we might bump into it soon. Keep your eyes open.”

I do. My visor flickers with readouts, highlighting footprints in the sand that lead toward a distant cluster of irregular shapes. Could be vehicles, small barricades, or supply crates. I slow my pace, trying not to kick up huge plumes of dust. “We might have something ahead,” I whisper. “Low-level cargo or equipment. Think they have drone charging stations out here?”

She hums. “Could be. Or it’s a supply drop for their ground patrol. Let me see if the infiltration can glean anything from the local net.” A moment passes, then she returns with a subdued tone. “There’s mention of a refueling station for captive drones about three hundred meters past those boulders. If correct, we might see a loading pad or a makeshift hangar bay. Possibly guarded.”

I release a slow breath. “Right. We’ll see if we can sneak close enough to confirm. If we do, we might snag a real vantage, maybe a direct link to their command tower.”

“Be ready to run for it if you see any foot patrols with heavy weaponry,” Tabitha replies. Raven One’s not built for a pitched firefight, especially not after I spent half the night burying you in coolant.”

I grin wryly. “Understood. My priority is to keep us in one piece.”

It’s easy to forget how worn I feel. My thighs ache from holding tight to the harness, and my eyes sting from the dryness. The novelty of sneaking around a surefire hornet’s nest is real, but so is the risk. Is this worth it? The part of me that still stings from prior rejections says yes.

We find out who’s holed up here, selling contraband or building an army, and maybe we can leverage that info. Enough to set up our next big job or earn extra credit with the right clients back on Valis. Meanwhile, Tabitha remains the silent sentinel in my ear, always scanning, always worried.

We weave deeper, drifting from one shadow to the next. We cross a small ridge and spot faint light from a cluster of metallic structures half-dug into the sand. My visor zoom reveals a squat, hangar-like shape wreathed in darkness. A short runway or platform extends in front with two perched, spindly drones. Their silhouettes flicker with tiny status lights, presumably charging.

My spine tingles. We’re extremely close now. “Tabi, can we jam them if we had to?”

Her voice is hushed. “Yes, but we risk alerting the tower. Maybe we don’t jam unless absolutely necessary. They look dormant. Let’s approach from the side, keep out of direct line of sight. There could be motion sensors near that platform.”

I nod and guide Raven One in a wide arc. The sand near the structure is flattened by repeated traffic, creating a hard-packed surface that could amplify my footsteps. I grit my teeth. One slip here, and we’re in a lovely hail of gunfire. My muscles burn from the tension of slow, precise movement. My heart’s an unrelenting drumbeat.

“You’re practically vibrating.” Tabitha’s comment pricks at me. “Inhale, exhale, keep it together, soldier.”

I release a shaky breath, then slip Raven One along the outskirts of the platform. My visor’s night vision highlights faint cables running from the outpost to the drones. Charging lines. If I sever them, maybe I can keep the drones offline. That’d be a risk, though. Right now, I only want to gather a few clues about the facility’s scale. If there’s a bigger hangar inside, it might store heavy mechs.

That’s when I see a subtle glint. A console or control panel, half shielded by cargo crates.

“At your ten o’clock,” Tabitha notes. “Looks like an external interface, probably a shorter-range node for drone oversight. If we plug in, we might glean more about the outpost. Or we might blow our cover if it’s alarm-protected. Worth it?”

I hesitate. My instincts say yes, this could answer all my questions about who’s funding this operation. Yet the risk is enormous. If they catch me slicing in, I’m done. My mouth goes dry, but I nudge Raven One forward anyway. “We’re here for something, right?” I whisper. “Let’s do it. The second we meet resistance, we bolt.”

Tabitha practically purrs. “You got it.”

I kneel Raven One behind a stack of crates that reek of engine oil. Carefully, I inch a servo arm toward the console, the data prong extended like before. The prong makes contact with a metallic clink, and my visor explodes with lines of code. No immediate alarms. Good sign, but the infiltration’s locked in a battle with heavy encryption. Tabitha curses under her breath, matrix-like data streaming across the display.

Tension coils in every muscle. This is the moment I dread. If they have an active monitoring guard, they’ll see the intrusion. I track the lines of code. Tabitha hisses a violent curse. “They’ve got some advanced locks. Give me a second. Keep the servo arm steady.”

She digs deeper. The console hums and a faint beep rises from the dormant drones. Stay asleep, stay asleep. My scalp pricks with sweat. One sound from that console, and we’re as good as pinned. Raven One’s stealth plating might buy me a few seconds, but not if the entire outpost scrambles.

“Almost.” Tabitha’s voice is tight. “There. I’ve got partial infiltration. I can’t open anything major, but I see references to supply shipments, stealth mechs, and a mention of ballistic plating. Could be contraband. I’ll copy what I can.”

Lightning arcs in my chest. Contraband shipments. Illegal mech expansions. That means we’ve stumbled upon a clandestine operation. Someone’s building or distributing war-grade mechs off the official channels out in these desert wastes.

Tabitha curses again. “They’re running a background scan. We need to sever the link soon, or they’ll find us. Ten seconds, max.”

My pulse leaps. “Grab what you can. Then we’re gone.”

She does, downloading snippets of logs and manifests in a flurry. The screen pulses red. Alarms? No, not yet. But the system is suspicious. “Time’s up,” Tabitha announces. “I’m cutting it.”

I yank the servo arm back, the prong snapping free with a faint spark. My body nearly sags in relief. I retract Raven One behind the crates, engagement finished. “We get anything good?”

Her voice bristles with urgency. “Encrypted data on mechs, probable ballistic plating shipments, mention of some corporate code name. That’s enough to confirm they’re up to shady deals. Let’s bail before they realize these lines are compromised.”

I don’t argue. I nudge the thrusters enough to guide Raven One away from the shadows, then begin a silent retreat. The night seems thicker now, the starlight barely enough to show me the path back between dunes. My chest constricts with anxious energy like a coiled spring. I force slow, deliberate steps, mindful of the platform behind me where the drones slumber.

We cross the flattened sand, hugging the ridges. There’s no immediate sign of pursuit, but dread clings to me anyway, like the outpost might unravel at any second.

The sensation intensifies each time the overhead sensor drones pass. Tabitha occasionally sneaks in micro-pulses to jam or scramble suspicious signals. It’s a delicate dance we maintain all the way back, weaving around the ridges with half-powered thrusters, trusting the dunes to hide us from full scans.

I exhale only when the horizon line behind me shows no frantic searchlights or gunfire. We made it. A shaky grin breaks across my face. “Damn,” I manage. “We might actually be good at this infiltration game.”

Tabitha laughs. “Certainly better than letting them fill you with bullets. Now, let’s get to safer ground so we can decode these tidbits.”

I pivot Raven One, hooking a path around the dunes that angles us away from the outpost’s perimeter. The wind gusts, swirling sand and adrenaline in my veins. My arms ache, my throat is parched, and the hiss of coolant still chills me to the bone. But the data we carry is worth the sweat and risk.

We’ll see what we can do with it. Maybe new leads, maybe a threat that’s bigger than I realized. For now, it’s enough that we survived the infiltration and gleaned a glimpse of the operation hidden out here.

Tabitha’s voice warms. “One step at a time, soldier boy. Let’s get some distance before we squee about our victory.”

I smile. “Distance, then squee. Copy that.”

She snorts. “You can squee if you want. I might indulge in a victory purr.”

“Deal,” I reply, relief bubbling through my exhaustion.

We trek across the dunes for another hour beneath the tapestry of stars, careful not to snag the attention of roving drones. The tension gradually eases, replaced by the painful knowledge that we can’t fully let our guard down until we’re well beyond their sensor range. Yet, with each step, I’m more certain we pulled it off. No blaring alarms, no incoming war mechs. Only a hush that resonates with the promise of survival.

Eventually, I find a sheltered hollow among rock spires secure enough to stand down. Raven One kneels, letting me breathe unhurriedly for the first time all night. The dryness in my throat is fierce, but the sense of accomplishment is real. We danced under their high-tech net and walked away with secrets. That alone delivers deep satisfaction despite the exhaustion draped over me like a lead blanket.

Tabitha reads my vitals. “We should rest. You’re running on fumes, David.”

I rub grit from my eyes. “Yeah, but not here. Let’s move another mile or two and see if we can find a spot that’s truly off their scanners. Maybe a nook behind a rock to hide Raven One.”

“Roger that, soldier.” Pride flickers beneath her sarcasm. “You did good tonight.”

I did good. The kid once told he was too scrawny to drive a mech infiltrated a heavily guarded outpost under cover of starlight. Sure, maybe I’m half-frozen from the coolant lines and half-sweaty from stress, but it’s a victory in my book.

With a final, weary sigh, I pilot Raven One onward, leaving the ominous horizon behind us. The dunes loom and shift, but they’re no longer suffocating me. They’re witness to a ghost that came and went. Talon, creeping on cat feet.

One more step forward, one more secret uncovered. By the time sunrise glows on the horizon, we’ll be long gone, carrying fresh intel that might reshape the next steps of my life. Tabitha remains my partner, equal parts caretaker, tactician, and maybe something more than all that. Tonight, we survived together.

I grin at the open desert. We’re not done. Not even close.