Callsign: Talon (Fueled By Fury #1)

Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“Yes?” I answer.

“The storm is actively dropping. Similar to when it started.”

I grimace as the last traces of the sandstorm recede, leaving an otherworldly hush in its wake. The Red Dunes look nothing like they did hours ago. Everything is warped and rearranged by nature’s brutal hand. Through the cockpit’s slightly cracked visor, I see the towering spire of rock that shielded me half-buried, its lean silhouette swallowed by mounds of fresh, wind-sculpted sand.

I sag back in Raven One’s harness, releasing a shaky breath I’ve been holding for what feels like forever.

Tabitha’s voice filters through my earpiece. “Next time we decide to tailgate a monster storm, remind me to bring a big sign that says, ‘No, don’t do it.’”

I exhale with a laugh. “Noted. At least we’re not pinned against the rock anymore.”

My body is cramped from hours of tension. I roll my shoulders and rub my stiff neck. The cockpit’s interior is stuffy with a faint, lingering smell of overheated servos, residual stress on Raven One’s systems from the precarious balancing act we had to pull to avoid toppling. I check the readouts. The mech’s power levels remain stable, but a few sensor lines flash warnings. The sand-lock level reads at forty-two percent. The vents are still clogged.

Tabitha hums, analyzing the environment. “The storm’s shifted the dunes around like a cosmic toddler messing with a sandbox. You watch. All the footprints we left are gone, but that also means their vantage point is toast.”

Her comment sets my pulse racing again. I want to see if the hidden outpost’s towers are in view, but the entire landscape is reconfigured. I think about completing this job. “We need to finish what we started, Tabi. Photos, scans, everything you took. Are they safe?”

She sounds offended. “Please. I’m the best AI you’ve got. I’d never lose data to a little sand. All logs are intact. Confirming encryption now.” She goes quiet, then returns with a crisp, satisfied tone. “Yes, all recordings of that fortress are good to go. The question is, how do we slip out now that the dunes look like an alien puzzle?”

I swallow and glance at the altered topography on the main display. The outpost is nowhere to be seen. The shimmering towers are hidden behind banks of fresh sand. For a horrible moment, I picture patrols roaming around, maybe searching for survivors of the storm or scanning for stray mech footprints.

Part of me wants to panic, but I clamp down on the reflex. “We’ll find a way,” I reply resolutely. “Connect to any passing satellites, confirm a direction, and we, uhh...walk, I guess. Be careful with the thrusters.”

The wind still moans, though nowhere near the monstrous roar of hours before. A fine swirl of grit courses along the edges of Raven One’s armor. I flick a switch, coaxing the mech’s thrusters into a low hum, enough power to stand. The machine’s limbs protest with a squeal, but they straighten. My arms ache as I move the control sticks to test servo reaction. Everything’s sluggish, caked in sand.

“Take it slow,” Tabitha advises. “I’m rebalancing your servo output. We can’t blow an actuator out here.”

I nod, mindful that she can read my vitals. The storm has left me parched and bone-tired, but now isn’t the time to rest. “We have to get out of detection range,” I mutter. “We glimpsed a patrol route near the facility last night. If they come snooping after a storm, we’ll be stuck.”

Tabitha picks up on my tension, and her tone sharpens. “Already scanning. Minimal signals so far, though I wouldn’t bet my circuits on them staying that way.”

She’s right. With a final hiss of grit, I maneuver Raven One forward. Each step is a gamble. Densified sand might look solid but crumble beneath the mech’s weight, if I guess wrong. My cockpit rattles with every shift. The dunes, once smooth ridges, are now jagged lumps. Some spots have turned into shallow basins of swirling grit.

I grit my teeth at the pun as it forms in my mind.

We inch along with excruciating caution, the horizon tinted in early dawn’s red-gold rays, beautiful but menacing. A memory stabs me of the outpost’s silhouette at sunrise, the secret fortress bristling with advanced artillery. The images we’ve captured are priceless. If we can deliver them, that is.

If discovered, we’ll be prime targets. Whoever built that place wants to stay hidden in the dunes, far from prying eyes.

Tabitha’s voice pings. “Possible movement on your ten o’clock. Could be a patrol. Range about a kilometer, maybe less.”

My pulse spikes. “Distance is too close for comfort. Best guess on whether they’ve got sensors keyed to our frequency?”

“They’d be incompetent if they didn’t. Let me mask our energy signature, shift you to minimal thermal output.” She hums as if chewing on a thought. “Heads up, you’ll experience a drop in top speed, but it’s better than lighting up their scanners like a bonfire.”

I ease Raven One into a partial crouch. “All right, Tabi. Let’s move.”

The next quarter-hour is a slow-motion crawl. I typically prefer a direct route, but the shifting dunes force me to weave, searching for stable ground. Occasional ridges offer momentary concealment. Sand-blasted rock outcroppings, nearly lost in the storm’s aftermath, become my new best friends. My hands have a death grip on the controls. Don’t slip. Don’t let their systems hear the servo hum.

At some point, Tabitha mutters, “You’re keeping your posture too rigid, David.”

I exhale shakily. “Yeah, sorry.”

“No need for sorry. You’ve been pinned in a monsoon of murder-sand all night. Let me shoulder some of the mental load. I’ll keep an eye on fluctuating signals so you can focus on your footing.”

I love that about her. She’s able to watch my back in ways no human copilot could. My partner with zero physical form but more heart than half the merc pilots I’ve met. The thought makes me grin, though I try to stay serious.

We press on, one step, then another. Each mild dune crest leaves me braced for the crack of gunfire or the beep of a lock-on warning. My nerves rattle with every gust of sand that slaps Raven One’s plating. Lofted specks glint in dawn’s light, a golden haze that’s ironically gorgeous while also reminding me I could die any second.

Tabitha’s voice tightens. “Patrol inbound. Two o’clock. They’re scanning with a searchlight.”

My breath catches. I pivot Raven One behind the nearest rocky ridge, practically hugging the stone. Through a battered patch in the cockpit, I glimpse a faint white beam gliding across the dunes. “Guess they’re looking for strays. Maybe we’re not the only ones who got caught in that storm,” I whisper.

“Likely. Or they want to confirm nobody spied on their base,” Tabitha replies. “Stay put. I’m feeding them false data bursts. Should buy us a few seconds.”

I hunker down, my heart pounding in my ears. The searchlight arcs closer. Grit flutters like confetti around me. Through the cockpit panel, I spot the faint silhouette of a scout vehicle, maybe a specialized mech or a dune rover. My instincts scream to either run or fight, but I do neither.

In my earpiece, Tabitha mutters, “Steady. If they come too close, I’ll jam their sensors so hard, they’ll think their readouts say ‘all clear and then some.’” She hisses. “It’ll be riskier if they physically see Raven One with their own eyeballs. That’s outside my jam radius.”

I nod, though she can’t see it. “Fingers crossed they don’t crest this ridge.”

Seconds stretch like hours. I imagine them cresting the rock, shining that searchlight directly onto my mech’s charcoal plating. No way they’d mistake me for a harmless boulder. My mind conjures images of scanners screaming intrusion alarms, followed by an entire squad descending. I’m not sure Raven One can outrun a hail of gunfire in these dunes.

The searchlight moves away, pivoting in an arc. My displays show no direct lock. I press my lips together, holding my breath as the scanning beam flickers across a distant patch of sand. Finally, the beam points elsewhere. The silhouette glides out of sight behind a far dune. No chasing me, no alarms. My breath hisses out. My limbs feel like jelly.

“They’re rolling away,” Tabitha confirms. “Possibly convinced no one’s out here. Let’s relocate, stat.”

I push Raven One upright again, forcing the thrusters to minimal power. My body aches, a tension headache throbbing behind my eyes. “Lead the way, Tabi.”

She guides me with gentle instructions, weaving a path around dune after dune. The hush of the desert feels unnatural, as if the storm stole all life from the land. Beneath it lingers the knowledge that an armed patrol is over the horizon. One slip, one loud servo squeal, and we might get pinned. I grit my teeth and focus on walking.

We crest a ridge where the sand flattens into a wide, shallow plain. Dawn is in full bloom now. Reds, oranges, and pinkish streaks bleed across the sky like a cosmic painting. Without that fortress looming, I almost forget the danger we face.

Tabitha’s voice snaps me out of it. “I see our supply craft’s beacon. Another hour or two at this speed. Think you can handle that?”

I nod with relief. “Sure as hell going to try.” That craft is my ticket off this scorching planet, an old-model shuttle I rented under forged documents.

We trek forward, hugging rocky outcroppings for cover. Tabitha occasionally warns me of faint signals. We’re putting distance between ourselves and the outpost, so the patrols are sparser. The scorching sun climbs, and sweat collects on my brow. The cockpit’s ventilation system fights valiantly, but some of it is clogged with sand. Heat prickles under my flight suit.

Finally, after an hour and a half of nerve-wracking progress, Tabitha points out a shape on the horizon. “There, that rocky slope. The craft should be parked beyond it, assuming none of the storm’s leftover gusts flipped it.”

A knot of fear forms. What if the shuttle’s gone or half-buried? I swallow the thought and push forward. Raven One’s actuators crunch the sand, and a pang of worry thrums. Keep quiet. Keep quiet. Maybe I’m paranoid, but we’re too close to blow it now.

At last, I crest the final ridge. The vantage reveals a shallow dune valley within which sits the supply craft. My shuttle is still there, tilted slightly, half-dusted by the storm but upright. Relief flutters in my chest like a caged bird, and I suppress the urge to whoop in triumph.

I swear, next time, I’ll have some sort of automatic pilot I can request a pickup from. Walking in this sand was bullshit.

I limp Raven One closer, scanning the surroundings for any sign of watchers. The valley is mercifully empty. No suspicious footprints or tracks. The only tracks are mostly buried, presumably from my arrival. I approach the shuttle’s side hatch, then power Raven One down to minimal mode. My body trembles with leftover tension.

Tabitha chuckles. “Guess we might survive, after all. That is if the shuttle’s engine didn’t choke on sand.”

I grin. “Only one way to find out.” I pop the cockpit canopy and climb out, boots sinking into scorching sand as I dismount. The world outside is hot, dry air hitting my face like a furnace. Sand dusts my flight suit, but I push through it, trudging to the shuttle’s access panel.

The scuffed craft has seen better days. I open the external panel and run a quick diagnostic command on the console. Lights flicker, then stabilize. The readout is glitchy, but it shows nominal function for atmospheric flight. My heart leaps with hope.

“All right,” I remark. “We have a ride.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Tabitha counters. “Let’s get the data secured. Payment’s worthless if we can’t deliver the proof.”

I nod. The mention of data jolts me back to the reason we came here. Carefully, I pull the data module from Raven One’s onboard systems, hooking it into the shuttle’s encrypted comm. In seconds, Tabitha is overlaying the streams, bundling them into a passcode-protected container.

She hums. “Compiling it all. The fortress layout, the turrets, the underground conduits you recorded. Everything. I’ll run it through a rolling passcode encryption, then I’m stuffing all the data into a porn video as a cover. Let’s see them try to hack this.”

“Why a porn video?” I ask. “Wouldn’t that confirm someone would watch it all the way through?”

“Well, probably,” she admits. “But if you’re watching porn, would you believe super-secret information is in the video stream?”

I thought about that. “No, I would be worried...” Then I get it. “Ha! They would be more worried about being caught with the video. Trying to explain watching porn as ‘making sure no secret data is in it’ won’t work. Pretty smart, T.”

“And I like when he thrusts?—”

“Oh, stop it,” I tell her. “You and your thrusters all the time.”

I stand by, letting the desert sun roast me. The shuttle’s hull radiates heat. My mouth feels like sandpaper. I gulp water from a stowed canteen, reminding myself to breathe.

Finally, Tabitha perks up in my ear, triumphant. “Done. We’ve got a neat package of intel. I can transmit a partial bit now to our contact, confirm they’re still on board. Then, we’ll do the final drop point after we’re out of local range.”

I shift, leaning against the shuttle’s warm plating. “Do it. I want to see if they’re legit about payment.”

“Sending a teaser sample.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Okay, I got a handshake message. Our fixer is impressed. They say full transfer upon final verification. Typical hush-hush talk.”

I release a shaky breath, a swirl of relief and exhaustion. The job promised a payout if I confirmed the existence of the rumored desert site. Well, I’ve done more than confirm it. I practically have a map of their locations in the desert.My nerves are still on edge, but the flash of validation helps.

I suck in a breath, open the shuttle cargo hatch, and guide Raven One inside. The interior is cramped, but it’ll suffice. My mech stumbles from the sand in its joints, so I have to apply extra thrust to get it properly seated. The cargo ramp hisses shut. I do a visual check to confirm nothing essential is missing or too badly damaged.

Tabitha speaks up again. “You all right, David? You look about one stiff breeze away from passing out.”

I inhale, then grin tiredly. “Exhausted, but I’ll live. Thanks for keeping me anchored.”

She snorts. “You said that already, and it’s my job. A meltdown or a bullet-riddled pilot is not part of my five-year plan.”

My smile widens. She always has a quip. I climb into the shuttle’s cockpit. The seat is dusty and worn, but I’m too tired to care. I press the ignition. A deep hum resonates through the craft, screens flickering to life. My heart thuds with relief that the storm didn’t sabotage the systems. Fuel levels are adequate. The reactor is green.

“All right,” I whisper. “Time to leave this sunbaked hullabaloo behind.”

Tabitha reignites her protective caution. “Need me to run a quick external sweep before takeoff? Last thing we want is some hidden drone pinging us as soon as we’re airborne.”

I nod. “Yes, do it.”

A moment passes as the sensors flicker on the overhead display. Tabitha’s jamming subroutine and sensor sweeps swirl in layered readouts. No major signals in our immediate vicinity, only stray dust pockets and lingering storm residue. No glaring sign of a mech patrol waiting to blast us. The tension in my lungs unwinds, fraction by fraction.

“Looks all clear,” Tabitha announces. “We can’t linger, though. They might have satellites or advanced spy-sats overhead if they realize an intruder was near the base. Let’s not gamble.”

I flick switches, warming the shuttle’s thrusters. “Agreed.”

When the engines spin at stable capacity, I engage the vertical thrust. The shuttle groans, sand eddying beneath us. We lift off. The landscape shrinks, revealing miles of rippled dunes and scorched ridges. A hush wraps around me, a mix of relief and post-adrenaline crash. After everything, we’re airborne.

Tabitha’s voice stirs in my ear. “Nicely done, David. We got the intel, made it out alive, and you only nearly died…oh, a handful of times.”

I laugh breathily. “Could be worse. We might have been half-buried out there with the dunes.”

“There’s still time for a meltdown if you don’t rehydrate soon. Don’t make me nag you.”

A grin surfaces. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Tabi.” Seriousness grips me as I look around for the water canteen. “That base we scanned. Something about it freaks me out. Nobody invests that much in a hidden fortress without an agenda.”

She hums agreement. “We’ll pass the data along. Let the big fish unravel it. Meanwhile, keep your head down. If word spreads that you uncovered the place, you might find a big fat bounty on your scrawny backside.”

I stare out the forward viewport at the swirling dust clouds below. “I know. We’ll drop at the designated rendezvous after we’re off-planet, get final payment, then vanish. Don’t let me forget to triple-encrypt the logs again.”

Tabitha’s laugh is a warm balm. “Oh, I’d never. We’ll do that and see about a spa day, too. Some software recalibration to pamper me, right?”

Despite my exhaustion, a sparkle hits my eyes. “Yeah, partner. You earned it. Seriously, I can’t tell you how much you helped me. You saved my life out there more times than I can count.”

She pauses, then sighs. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The shuttle ascends toward the hazy sky, and the dunes blur behind us. Gratitude and triumph flicker in my chest. We did it.

Every nerve in my body is on edge, but I feel more alive than I have in ages. This intel might be bigger than we thought, possibly implicating the Kessara Combine or some other shadowy group. Danger guaranteed.

My comm pings. The partial deposit from the fixer hits my account, a small chunk of the promised sum. Payment confirmed. A wave of relief washes through me. It’s enough to keep Raven One in top shape for another upgrade. Enough to plot the next step in this mercenary hustle. We survive one hell, get our reward, and do it all again somewhere else.

That’s the life I’ve apparently chosen. I take a moment to enjoy the peace and quiet, thinking of what’s ahead, and I realize...I’m happy with my decisions. If I die during the next job, I’m someone I respect.

Yeah, that’s it. I respect myself.

I guide the shuttle higher. Dawn’s red-gold fire dissolves into a pale, shimmering sky. My flight readings flicker as Tabitha tunes them, and the rickety craft stabilizes.

I’m one step closer to forging my destiny. People who dismissed me as too small, too scrawny, too naive—they don’t matter right now. I tuck the anger and pride away, focusing on the remaining tasks. That outpost’s images are more than evidence. They’re a statement that I, David Wayne, can uncover secrets the big powers want buried.

Tabitha breaks into my thoughts. “You better not forget my software pampering. Surviving that storm means I deserve a five-star recalibration session.”

“You got it, Tabi,” I assure her. “As soon as we’re safe, you have that coming, and I’ll put my fingers to work all over you.”

“Did you make a joke? A flirtatious joke toward me? ”

I probably did mess with her a bit. I hope she’s okay.

Finally, she chuckles, and I let her laughter soothe my frayed nerves.

With the craft’s thrusters humming and no sign of pursuit, we climb out of the desert region. The horizon stretches wide ahead.

After a few minutes, Tabitha flags me. The partial funds I verified have been updated with a short note from the fixer, praising the preliminary data. I grin at the screen. “They want the rest as soon as possible,” I read, scanning the message. “They’re practically salivating for the full package.”

Tabitha’s tone is smug. “We’ll deliver it when we’re off-world. Let them sweat. People pay more if they’re desperate, and I will explain that we have ‘additional data for a premium.’ I don’t want them getting that last bit of data without extra credits.”

I laugh wearily. “Your mercenary streak is showing.” She’s right, though. In this line of work, knowledge is leverage, and expectations are there to be paid for going above and beyond. I have to wield it carefully.

Soon, I’ll land at an out-of-the-way port on the west side of the city, finalize the drop, get the rest of the credits, and slip off-world before local authorities or corporate eyes catch wind.

Another mission sealed under secrecy, funded by hush money. It’s a step forward for me. Money to keep Raven One operational, to bolster future expansions, to keep outrunning the Wolverines’ scorn or any Combine or Federation retribution.

I think about building my little service into something bigger.

I swallow the last of my canteen water with a relieved sigh.

The rising sun floods the cockpit, warm and bright. I adjust the visor, squinting at a new day. My mind ticks through the next steps. Find a safe port, upload the data, confirm final payment, vanish.

Then, maybe a day or two of rest, repairing Raven One’s damaged joints, clearing out the sand choking the intakes. And yes, sweet software recalibrations for Tabitha. I can practically hear her grin.

I tighten my hands on the shuttle’s controls. “Time to put this planet in our rearview.”

I guide the shuttle forward, focusing on the hum of thrusters and the brightening sky. Another job well done, another escape from near disaster. I’m not done fighting for my place among the stars.

No matter what storms or secrets swirl, Tabitha and I will face them together.

Then, she asks me the question that makes my palms sweat.

“David, do you think I could run a full synth body?”

Oh, fuck.