Valiant

[Valiant #16: Renchiko]

Log Date: 12/5/12763

Data Sources: Feroce Acceso

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Accatria: Bridge

4:13am SGT

“Well, at least it’s off the beaten path.” Dussel grunts, staring through the bridge window at the ball of brown and green that the Accatria is currently orbiting around. “Even if the planetguard do call the Vaunted on us, it’s going to take them half a week to get a vessel out here. Just as well, since we’re here to kidnap another minor.”

“We didn’t kidnap Ridge.” I mutter as Dussel turns and lumbers back to his captain’s chair. “That’s just CURSE propaganda. You know full well that he came with us of his own accord.”

“Much to my aggravation, yes. I signed up for many things with this project. Babysitting was not one of them.” Dussel says as he settles into his chair. “I presume you’re taking him with you, given the nature of this foray?”

“It’s low-risk, so he’ll be coming with me, yes. He may benefit from having another peer in his age group.” I say, tucking my hands in the pockets of my longcoat. “If all goes well, we’ll have this wrapped up in three days, and by the time we get back to the Valiant outpost, Legaci will have finished salvaging the data from outpost’s surviving servers.”

“Let’s hope there’s something in there we can use. Be a damn shame if we went all that way and spent all that time for a dud.” Dussel says. “So, the kid you’re trying to pick up on this world. She’s Ratchet’s daughter?”

“She is, yes.” I answer. “According to Luci, she takes after her mom. Top of her class, mechanical genius. It sounds like she has a lot of potential.”

Dussel snorts. “Top of her class on a frontier farm planet full of relapsed addicts and backworld rednecks. The bar isn’t set very high in systems like this, Songbird.”

“That’s exactly why Ratchet brought her here.” I reply. “She didn’t want CURSE to get their hands on her kid. And since she’s still here, it seems like it worked.” Turning around, I start towards the doors of the bridge. “I’m going to start prepping for deployment to the surface. Let me know if there’s anything you want while we’re down there.”

“Some fresh produce, maybe.” Dussel calls over the shoulder of his chair. “Only thing that a planet like this is good for.”

I don’t reply as the doors slide shut behind me, but I also don’t tell him he’s wrong.

Because he’s not.

Event Log: Rewind: 13 years ago

Shanaurse: District 38

10:23pm SGT

“I know it’s not a lot, but it’s the best I can do on short notice.” Koriah says as he finishes pulling out a fold-out bed from a couch. A wiry man in his late forties, he’s wearing the smudged denim and flannel of a mechanic, his arms likewise blackened with oil and grease from working on farm and field drones all day. “Probably not as fancy as that floating palace you have hanging out in orbit, but it’s something.”

“It’s more than enough, Kori.” Ratchet says from where she’s standing near the entrance to the living room. She’s got a four-year-old by her side, and behind her, largely shadowed by the lights left off, is Songbird. Outside, all is dark; having arrived to the surface under the cover of night, the trio had made their way to the residence of Koriah Nagatain, Ratchet’s older brother.

“I can see about cleaning out one of the storage rooms over the shop’s garage when I get the chance.” Koriah says as he pulls out a blanket and drapes it over the bed. “Right now it’s just got a lot of spare parts, but I can move them out of the way. Should be enough room to put a bed and a dresser in there.” He looks at Songbird. “I’m gonna have to put you on the floor for now. You can have the foldout bed once we get a proper bedroom set up for Ichai and Renchiko, but until then I don’t have anywhere else to put you.”

“It’s fine.” Songbird shrugs. “I’ve slept in drainage ditches before. I can survive sleeping on the floor.”

“The room will mostly be for Renchiko anyway.” Ratchet says, setting her pack down by the foldout bed as she sits down on it. “Songbird and I will be going offworld from time to time to run counter-ops against CURSE, and provide security against the Collective in this region of the galaxy. You won’t have to worry about us taking up room here too often.”

It’s obvious from his expression that Koriah has opinions about that, but they’re ones he’s not going to voice while Ratchet’s daughter and Songbird are standing right there. “Let’s save that conversation for tomorrow.” he says, tossing a second blanket to Songbird. “There’s a lot going on in the galaxy right now. You might want to take it slow and lay low for a while.”

Songbird catches the blanket. “You guys don’t happen to have a bloodbank in town, do you?”

Koriah was about to leave, but pauses at that, giving Songbird a second look. “…no, we don’t. We don’t get many of your kind ‘round here. They might sell it at the supermarket in the next district over, but that’s pushing it. Frontier planets tend to lean traditionalist, and they’re not known for being friendly to ‘skeeters.” He motions down the hall. “Bathroom’s down this way on the left. The heater’s been acting up, so if your shower water doesn’t warm up right away, give it a couple minutes.”

He leaves the room with that, and it’s not until they hear the door to Koriah’s bedroom click closed that Ratchet speaks. “He didn’t mean it as an insult. That’s just the way people talk out here.”

“I know.” Songbird say calmly, kneeling down to the floor. “I grew up on a world similar to this. I know what communities on rural planets are like.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m going to need you on the counter-ops missions we’ll be running.” Ratchet says as she starts to organize the pillows on the pullout bed. “I can pilot the Firefly Blue alone, but it’s safer to run with a copilot, and you’re the only one on the Horizon Breaker that has any Titan piloting experience.”

Songbird hesitates as he’s laying the blanket out on the floor. “Ratchet… perhaps your brother is right. Maybe it would be better to lay low for a while.” His gaze goes to where Renchiko is climbing onto the pullout bed, rubbing her eyes. “Someone needs to keep an eye on Renchiko.” Left unspoken is that Ratchet’s husband is no longer around to do that.

Ratchet takes in a deep breath, looking at her daughter. “That’s what we came to Kori for.” she says, setting out a couple more pillows before picking up Renchiko and setting her on the side of the bed she’s going to be sleeping on. “We knew it would be too dangerous to bring her with us while we were running resistance against CURSE. She’ll be safe with him while we carry on the fight.”

It’s clear that just like Koriah, Songbird has opinions about that, but he leaves them unsaid. Given that Ratchet was his mentor and several years his senior, it’s not his place to tell her that she should prioritize motherhood over running a resistance movement. But he can’t ignore the cost that dedication to the Challengers comes at — Renchiko’s already lost one parent, and if Ratchet insists on this course, then Renchiko will only have a part-time parent remaining. There’s also no guarantee that Koriah will be able to step up to a parenting role in the way that Renchiko might need, with the loss of her father.

But again, it’s not Songbird’s place to say, and besides, he’s sure that Ratchet has considered the very same conflicts running through his mind right now.

“Alright.” Songbird says, pulling off his coat and bundling it behind his head as he lays down. “Sleep well. We can figure out what to do in the morning.”

“You too, Songbird.” Ratchet says. Reaching up, she hits the light switch on the wall, and as the room goes dark, she lays down to sleep as well.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

Shanaurse: District 38 — Highway 38

10:46am SGT

“You’re awful quiet, Songbird.” Luci says from the backseat of the car we’ve rented. We’re currently cruising down the lone highway that runs through District 38, one of the dozens of districts on Shanaurse whose primary industry is agriculture. On either side of us, barren fields stretch away for miles on a grid formation; the harvest has come and gone. There’s nothing out here for miles, and the only break in the horizon is the occasional homestead way out in the distance.

“Just not in the mood for talking, I guess.” I answer without taking my eyes off the window. Staring at the empty fields reminded me of the world where I’d grown up, but the memories they brought back weren’t pleasant ones.

“Is the kid still sleeping?” Sierra asks over her shoulder. She’s the one driving; none of the cars at the rental place came with a self-driving option, despite how simple and straightforward the roads were in a rural environment like this.

“Yeah, he’s still out like a light.” Luci says, looking at Ridge slumped against the window in the backseat of the car, snoring quietly. “Honestly he might have the right idea. I never thought staring out the window on a road trip could bore you to death.”

“It’s the off-season right now. The fields have to rest between crops.” I explain, looking out the windshield. Coming up on the right, still a few miles distant, is a set of buildings that’s very likely the school for this district. A little ways beyond it are more buildings, the only town in this district. “During growing season, the corn can get up to seven or eight feet tall. Can’t really see anything then.”

“What do people do around here?” Luci asks, staring out at the empty fields. “It’d drive me mad, being surrounded by this much nothing.”

“Get up. Go to work. Rinse and repeat until they die.” I answer, closing my eyes since I’m tired of staring at the emptiness. “Hit up the bar every night after work. Go bowling on the weekends. Shoot the breeze with the neighbors. Do a home improvement project during the off season. Set up empty bottles and use them for target practice on summer nights. Work themselves to death, and use all the money they’ve scrimped and saved to pay for medical bills because they don’t have insurance, or can’t afford it. And if they’re lucky, they die before they go into debt.”

“Jeezus, Songbird, that’s dark.”

“It’s also the truth.” I say, leaning my head back against the headrest. “I grew up in a place akin to this. Towns like these, they’re dead ends. And if you don’t get out while you’re young, you’ll never leave.” Opening my eyes, I check the road ahead again. “Sierra, slow down.”

“Give me a good reason.” she replies lazily.

“We’re getting close to town, and the school’s coming up. Cops like to hang out in the parking lot of the school and nail visitors with speeding tickets.” I explain. “The entire town, and everything around it for five miles, is basically a giant speed trap. It’s one of the ways they generate revenue for the community. If you don’t slow down now, I guarantee you won’t get a quarter mile past the school without getting pulled over.”

“I’d like to see them try.” she mutters, but she turns the cruise control off anyway.

“You seem to know a lot about this place.” Luci remarks.

“This is where Ratchet and I holed up for three years after the Challenger program was shuttered.” I say, watching through the window as we pass the school. Sure enough, there’s a police cruiser hanging out on the edge of the student parking lot, just a hop and a skip from the main road. “It’s been over a decade since I left, but some things never change. Besides, the cops in my hometown used to do the same thing. Some dirty tricks are universal, regardless of what side of the galaxy you’re on.”

“Least you got out of here.” Luci says, watching as the school slides past us. “I can’t imagine being stuck here for a week, much less for years.”

“You can’t imagine it because you’ve gotten around and you’ve seen the galaxy.” I say as the buildings of the town start to get larger ahead of us. “But for the people that live here, this is all they know. And for a lot of them, it’s all they want to know.” I lean back in my seat as the fields on either side of the road are slowly replaced by houses in various stages of dilapidation or disrepair. “A lot of people in this town have never gone offworld. There are even some of them that have never left the district.”

“That can’t be right.” Luci scoffs. “I could see some of them never going offworld, but some that have never even visited other districts on this world? You’re yankin’ my chain.”

I don’t answer, just watching as the condition of the houses on either side of the road slowly improves as we get closer to the town proper.

“You’re serious?” Luci says after a moment of silence. I can hear him lean back in his seat, and in the mirror on my side of the car, I see him run his hand through his hair. “Jeezus. That’s depressing.”

“Well, we’re almost there.” Sierra says. “Luci, you got directions for how to get to this place where Ratchet’s brother works at?”

“Yeah, gimme jussa sec.” Luci says, shuffling to dig his phone out of his pocket.

“Don’t bother.” I say. “I know how to get there. It’ll be towards the other side of town. Just follow the main road right on through, and I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“You still remember how to get there, even a decade later?” Luci says skeptically.

“It’s easy when nothing’s changed.” I mutter. “The only difference between now and then is that the people are older, and the main road’s got a couple new potholes.”

Silence fills the car as we roll through town. Buildings with weatherworn signs pass by on either side, cracks running through their paint jobs, the windows often cloudy with age and neglect. Weeds can be seen staking out a claim in the cracks on the sidewalk, and of the few people that are out and about, each one is giving our rental car a look. Eventually I realize that it’s because it’s the only car in town that doesn’t have a layer of caked-on dust on it.

“You’ll be making a left up at that next intersection.” I eventually say once we’ve gotten past the only two stoplights in town. “You’ll drive down it a ways, and the place will be on the left. It looks like a fenced-off junkyard with a mechanic’s shop square in the middle. Can’t miss it.”

“From the way you’re describing it, I might want to.” Sierra snarks, nonetheless hanging a left at the next intersection. After half of minute of rolling down that street, the junkyard comes into view, and Sierra makes a left onto the premises, the tires crunching over the loose gravel and debris as she pulls up to the shop and turns off the car.

“Mmph.” Ridge mumbles, pushing off the window as he wakes up. “We finally there?”

“You’ll be staying in the car.” I say, unbuckling. “Luci, stay with him. This might take a bit, or it might go very fast and it might not go well.”

Sierra gives me a sideways look with her one eye as she unbuckles. “Something you wanna tell me before we step in there?”

“I’m not exactly on good terms with Ratchet’s brother.” I say, stepping out of the car and closing the door. “He might not be happy to see me.”

“Oh, just charming.” Sierra says, sizing up the garage ports and the mechanics at work servicing old trucks used by the farmers that make up most of the town’s population. Around the backside of the shop are what appear to be a few of the massive harvester drones that tend the fields, in for off-season maintenance. The other side of the junkyard property has been left unfenced and open to the edge of the town, so the drones can drive right up from the fields and straight into the junkyard. “Maybe you should stay out here while I give ‘im the smolder.”

“I don’t like Kori, but I’m not going to let you smolder him.” I say, moving to the nearest garage port. “I want to do this the right way, and that means talking to him and sorting out our differences. It’s been ten years; I’m hoping that’s enough for him to have cooled down a bit.”

“So he blames you for Ratchet’s death, then.” Sierra says as we step into the garage. “Awesome. I’m sure this will go just splendidly.”

Inside the building, there’s the usual hissing, clanking, and clunking of mechanics at work on machines. Some of the trucks in here are up on lifts so the mechanics can get under them to work on them; others look like they’re going through standard service cycles: oil change, realignment, tire check and replacement. Sierra and I don’t go unnoticed as we make our way towards the back of the garage, where the office is; several of the mechanics do notice us, though more of them are paying attention to Sierra than me.

“Can I help you?” one of the older mechanics shouts, making his way around the nearest truck up on a lift.

“I’m here to see Kori.” I say, slowing to meet him.

“Who’s asking?” the mechanic demands, folding his burly arms.

“I used to babysit for Renchiko.”

“Really.” the mechanic says, sizing me up. “You don’t strike me as the type.”

I look down. Perhaps I should’ve worn my hoodie today, instead of the hooded longcoat. Pink tends to be a lot less menacing than black. “S’cold outside. You may not have noticed, but it’s the middle of winter.”

“Yeah, we noticed.” the mechanic says, unamused. “Kori’s not in today. You can come back later.”

“Oh really.” I say softly, tilting my head towards the back wall. “Why’s the light in his office on, then?”

The mechanic narrows his eyes at me, unfolding his arms and setting them on his hips. Presumably because it’ll be quicker for him to take a swing that way. “I think you should leave.”

“I think you should go get him.” I reply, keeping my tone soft.

“Uggggh. Men.” Sierra groans behind me, and a moment later her heeled boots are echoing against the cold floor as she marches towards the office. “Y’all are so busy dickwaving it’s a wonder you get anything done.”

“Wait, ma’am, you’re not allowed over there—” the mechanic says, turning from me to start after Sierra.

“Too late, I’m already over here.” Sierra says, taking a hand and banging on the door of the office. “Kori, I don’t know who you are, but you better get your ass out here!”

It’s only a few seconds before the door opens, and Kori steps out, the short black hair and lean build familiar. There’s a few more lines in his face — he’s gotten older in the last decade — but it’s still the same Kori. “What’s going on? Who are you?” he demands, looking at Sierra, then to the head mechanic, and finally, catching sight of me.

And for a long moment, we just stand there, staring at each other. And I can tell, from the look in his eyes, that a decade hasn’t been enough to dull the anger he had when he forced me to leave Shanaurse.

He turns and steps back into the office without a word. I can faintly hear a locker being opened over the white noise of the garage, and when Kori steps back out of the office, it’s with a shotgun in hand, pumping it as he marches towards me. “Leave. Now.”

I don’t move. “No.”

He raises the shotgun, but Sierra shouts at him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She’s pulled a buster gun out of her Challenger dress jacket — a heavy-duty handcannon that fires bursts on par with a plasma rifle.

Kori swings back around, pointing the shotgun at her. “You put that down or I’ll pull this trigger.” he warns her.

“I came here to talk, Kori, not to threaten you.” I say before Sierra can say something snarky that’ll escalate the situation. I can see the other mechanics have started to notice what’s going on, and are leaving their tasks to wander closer to this end of the garage. Some of them picking up wrenches and other heavy tools as they go.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I know what you’re here for, and you know what the answer is.” Kori replies. “Now tell your girlfriend to drop the gun or I’ll shoot.”

Sierra smirks. “You wanna pick that fight, hon? We’re both vampires. You shoot him or me, we’re just gonna get back up. And then I’m gonna shoot you, and then I’m going to shoot your employees. All I need is a little blood to get back on my feet, but them? Most of them look human. They actually need their organs and their bones and all that. Tell me, where’s the nearest hospital? It’s two districts over, isn’t it? It’s an awful long way to drive when you’ve got a mortal injury.”

“Sierra—” I start.

“Shut up, Songbird.” Sierra says. “You might be a nice guy, but I’m not. Not every problem can be solved by appealing to the good in people, because in some people, there simply isn’t any there. And other people only understand force, fear, and pain.” She flicks the safety off on her buster gun. “So listen up, Kori. You can either humor Songbird, and sit down for a nice quiet talk between adults, or I can spend sixty seconds making this town real miserable for the next several months.”

“Kori! I can call the police!” one of the younger mechanics shouts. He’s got his phone out, and is already starting to dial.

“If that call goes through, I start shooting.” Sierra says, swinging the buster gun towards the other mechanics without taking her eyes off Kori. “You’ve got five seconds. Make a choice.”

“James, leave it!” Kori shouts as the other mechanics start to back off when Sierra swings the gun towards them. “Don’t call. I’ll deal with this.” Lowering the shotgun, he turns and looks back at me. “Office. If you’re so damn fixed on talking, we’ll talk. You aren’t gonna like what I have to say.”

“I suspect the feeling is mutual.” I reply drily, walking past him. “Sierra, try to behave yourself.”

“That’s a tall order, Blueberry.” she says, grabbing a chair and pulling it over to where she can sit beside the door to the office. “Try to make this little field trip worthwhile.”

“Get back to work, guys.” Kori shouts to the rest of the garage as he follows me back to the office. Once we’re inside, he pulls the door shut behind him, walking around behind the desk. I remain standing in front of it, not yet sitting down. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, coming back here, Songbird.”

“You had a lot of nerve, forcing me to leave in the first place.” I reply. “I can do this all day, Kori.”

“Yeah, I suppose we could.” he says, setting the shotgun down atop his desk. The touchscreen is littered with digital invoices and budget sheets. “The answer is no. She’s seventeen; she’s minor; she still has to finish school and I am still her legal guardian. She is not leaving this planet.”

“I know what your answer is. I knew what it’d be long before I ever got here. But I didn’t come here to get your answer.” I say. “I came here to get her answer.”

“That’s too bad, because I’m not going to let you talk to her.” Kori says, leaning his hands on his desk. “And if you try, I will call the police at that point, regardless of how many threats the vampire bitch makes.”

“I have a right to talk to her after the way you made me leave—” I begin, taking my hands out of the pockets of my longcoat.

“You don’t have a right to jack shit after you got her mother, my sister, killed!” Kori shouts at me.

I can feel something snap inside as I straighten up. “You should think very carefully about the next words to come out of your mouth, Koriah Nagatain.” I say quietly.

“Or you’ll do what?” Kori hisses, not backing down. 

I don’t answer that. There are plenty of threats to make, but I’m not here to make threats. I’m here to talk with Renchiko. “I need to talk with her, Kori. It doesn’t have to be long. Just enough to tell her where I’ve been, what I’m doing, and ask whether she’d like to step into her mother’s shoes.”

“What, so you can drag her down the same road Ichai went down?” Kori demands.

“I’m not going to be dragging anyone. If she comes, she comes of her own accord.”

“Out into the galaxy, to fight monsters and bad guys and the Collective, and eventually get killed when she gets in over her head. Just like her mother.” Kori spits. “The answer is no, you’re not going to offer her that.”

“So what, she’s going to stay here?” I ask quietly, looking around the yellowed room that we’re in, the faded paint on the walls, a tattered map of the fields of District 38 hanging on one of them. “So she can spend the rest of her life in a small town, safe and sheltered? So she can scrimp and scrape and save, living from paycheck to paycheck, never getting ahead and never doing anything that really matters, trapped in this place with no opportunity to do more, to be more?”

“Oh, so you want to take her to the big city, show her all the pretty lights and the shiny toys. Show her how much better it is than her backwoods hometown.” Koriah growls. “You come in here, acting so high and mighty—”

“SHUT UP!” I roar, slamming my hands down on the desk. “I came from a town like this, Koriah, I know damn well what will happen to her if she stays here because I watched it happen to everyone that lived there. They grow up to take the jobs that their parents had, jobs that barely put food on the table, and they called it tradition and said that there was dignity and pride in it, but dignity and pride are just an excuse to make yourself feel good about being poor. And generations of people would work those jobs until the job killed them, just like it killed their father and their grandfather and everyone else that had held the job before them. And it didn’t kill them quickly, either. It killed them slowly. It wore their bodies down to nothing, and when their bodies needed to be fixed, they couldn’t afford it because the job never paid enough to do more than just keep up with the bills. So they worked those jobs until it killed them, and then their kids started working the job after them. Year after year, decade after decade, generation after generation, never able to escape the cycle because you never had enough money to escape the cycle. You know damn well what I’m talking about because I know you’ve seen it too. You see it every damn day, in every field, every face, every damn house on the block. And you’re telling me that’s what you want for Renchiko?”

I can see a smoldering anger in Kori’s eyes. “Get out.” he says in a low, rough voice.

I plant my knuckles on the edge of the desk, leaning forward. “Or you’ll do what?” I hiss, challenging him with the same words he used against me earlier.

He puts a hand on the shotgun. “I’ll make you get out.”

I glare at him a moment more, but it’s not worth it to pick a fight like this. It was already bad enough with Sierra making a scene in front of everybody in the garage; right now, I could only hope that word of this wouldn’t get back to the local sheriff’s department. We needed to be able to stay here long enough to speak to Renchiko, and getting run out of town by the police would make that substantially more difficult.

So I push off the desk, tucking my hands back in the pockets of my longcoat as I head to the door. There’s a lot I could say right now, a lot of emotions running through me. Frustration, anger, irritation, disappointment. I know nothing I can say is going to change his mind, so it’s almost not worth it to say anything at all — but something needs to be said. And I want to make clear exactly what I think of him.

“I can see why Ratchet made it into the Challenger program and you didn’t.” I say, resting a hand on the doorknob and twisting it. “She managed to do more with her life than you’ve done with yours, and that’s even after you’ve had an extra ten years to catch up to her.”

Pulling the door open, I step out, slamming it behind me. To the left, Sierra looks up at me, then grunts and pushes out of her chair. “I’m guessing that went about as well as I expected it to.” she says, lazily holstering her buster gun back inside her Challenger dress jacket.

“It was less than productive.” I say shortly, starting to strike across the garage back to where the car’s parked, ignoring the looks of the mechanics as I go. “Let’s get out of here. I need to talk to Luci.”

“Oh really? Color me surprised.” Sierra says, falling in step beside me. “Is there something you need him to do?”

“Yeah.” I say as we step back out of the garage. “I need him to tell me everything he found out about Renchiko Chamako.”

Event Log: Rewind: 10 years ago

Shanaurse: District 38

9:14pm SGT

“Ichai, you can’t keep doing this.”

The words are muffled, largely because they’re coming from downstairs and around the corner. Songbird is upstairs in what looks like a cleared-out attic room with a couple of old beds and a couch; secondhand dressers and drawers along the sides of the room, with toys scattered here and there. A suitcase is on one of the beds, and he’s in the middle of transferring clothes from one of the dressers to the suitcase. On the other bed, a little girl of seven years old is watching as Songbird packs up.

“I’m not going to have this conversation with you, Kori. You know why I have to keep doing this.” Ratchet’s voice is muffled from down the stairs, but even at this distance, one can hear the impatient tone. “It shouldn’t be longer than a couple months at most, and then we’ll be back.”

“You say ‘a couple months’ like it’s nothing!”

“A couple months is nothing. Titans often go on yearlong deployments. A couple months is basically a quick jaunt.”

“Yeah, well that quick jaunt is going to have you missing the start of school for your kid, and her birthday along with it. You’re her mother, you should be here to see her off for that!”

“I’m also one of the last Challengers still fighting, and the only Titan pilot in this region of the galaxy. You saw the news; you know that the Collective’s been sighted near the only defense world in this region. It’s going to be weeks before the Venusians can get a Titan squad out here, and until they get out here, it’s my job to make sure there’s a line of defense against any Leviathans the Collective might deploy.”

“There’s been no evidence that the Collective’s planning on fielding Leviathans—”

“Just because there’s no sign they’re going to do it doesn’t mean they won’t.”

“So what, you’re going to head out there because there might be some big ugly bug bastard that’ll need punching?”

Songbird glances at the door, wondering if he should close it. It’s not like Renchiko will really grasp the nuances of the argument that Ratchet is having with Kori; the more practical tones of the conversation are undergirded by disagreements over which responsibilities are more important than others. But he knows that even if Renchiko might not grasp the nuance of the conversation, she’s more than capable of grasping the fact that her mother and uncle are not happy with each other.

“How long are you going?” Renchiko asks.

Songbird looks from the door to Renchiko. “Two months. Shouldn’t be longer than that.” he says, setting a pair of pajamas in his suitcase. “We might not even fight anything. It’s just gonna be a guard patrol.”

“So it should be safe?” Renchiko asks, kicking her legs back and forth on the edge of the bed.

“Well, there’s always the chance of danger when you’re a Titan pilot.” Songbird say, adding a pair of socks to the suitcase, then giving it a once over to make sure it’s all packed before zipping it shut. “But I think it’ll be a quiet patrol. Sometimes all it takes to scare the Collective off is just seeing the Horizon Breaker in the region.”

“So can I come?” Renchiko asks.

“No, you’ve gotta stay here and go to school.” Songbird says, picking up his suitcase and moving it over beside the door.

“I don’t want to.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t want to.” Songbird says, heading back to the bed that Renchiko is on and sitting down beside her. “But if you want to pilot a Titan one day, you’ve gotta go to school and learn stuff first.”

“Then I can pilot?” she asks, bumping her heels against the frame of the bed.

“In time. If you are the best of the best, and you learn everything there is to know about mechs, then yes, you can pilot a Titan.” Songbird says. “But you have to earn it. It won’t be given to you.”

There’s a pause in the conversation as raised voices well up from the first floor again.

“Why don’t you just send Songbird? He’s a perfectly qualified Titan pilot! He’s more than capable of running a sortie on his own.”

“Just because he’s capable doesn’t mean he should. Besides, Songbird is an empath pilot first, a manual control pilot second. The Firefly Blue is a manual control Titan with empath support in the second seat. I lead, he supports. That’s the way it works in the Firefly Blue.”

“There are least two other mechs in the Horizon Breaker. Are either of those equipped for empath pilots? Can’t he solo one of those?”

“You don’t know anything about this, Kori! Empaths can’t solo—”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t know! I know empaths can solo pilot; I don’t need a fancy degree to pull up a wiki of all the empaths that have soloed before!”

“Just because some have doesn’t mean all of them can, and even if he could, he shouldn’t! Solo-piloting is dangerous, especially for empath pilots—”

There’s a quiet click as Songbird carefully pushes the door shut, blocking out the arguing, or at least muffling it. “It’s getting late.” he says, walking back over to Renchiko’s bed. “We should get you to sleep. Have you brushed your teeth yet?”

“Yeah. Did it after shower.”

“Aight. Let’s get you under the covers, then.” Songbird says, pulling back the covers on the bed so that Renchiko can scoot up to the head of the bed and underneath them. Pulling them back up again, he tucks them around her while she gets comfortable on the pillow. “We’ll be gone for a while, but we’ll be back in two months. You’ll behave for Uncle Kori while we’re gone, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good.” Feroce leans over, giving her a quick kiss on the head. “Sleep well and do good in school. We’ll be back soon.” He stands up and moves back to the door, grabbing his suitcase before opening the door slightly. “I’ll tell your mother to come up here and say goodnight to you before we head out.”

“Hey, Big Brother?” Renchiko says as Songbird starts to step out.

He pauses and looks around. “Yes?”

“You’ll be back, right?”

“Yeah.” Songbird says. “We’ll be back. And one of these days, if you learn and train and work hard enough, you’ll get to come with us.”

“And I’ll get to pilot a Titan?”

“If you work hard enough, then yes.” Songbird nods.

“Alright then, I’ll do it.” Renchiko says, turning and hugging her pillow as she settles in bed. “See you later, Big Brother.”

“See you later, Renchiko.” Songbird replies softly.

And with that, he steps out, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft click.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

District 38: Motel Minto

4:35pm SGT

“Alright, here’s our options.” Luci says from where he’s lying on the motel bed, his phone held up to his face. “We got Tiffany’s just down the street. It’s a diner that serves ‘Riginal food, so probably burgers, fries, chicken noodle soup, pancakes, that kind of stuff. Close to it, we have Flapjack Attack, which serves flapjacks, coffee, and milk.”

“That’s it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow from where I’m sitting in a chair by the window.

“That’s literally the only thing on their online menu.”

“That can’t be right.” I say, holding a hand out for his phone.

“Seriously, this place only makes flapjacks. It’s got a whole buffet of toppings, but there is literally only three options for your main course and that’s buttermilk flapjack, wholegrain flapjack, and tarjack.” Luci says, turning the phone towards me so I can see the menu.

“Anaya above.” I mutter. “The heck is a tarjack?”

“I think it’s got a bit of dark molasses stirred into the flapjack mix or something that gives it that dark, bittersweet flavor.” Luci say, turning his phone so he can look at it again.

“I vote we go to Tiffany’s.” Ridge says without taking his eyes off his own phone. He’s laying on the other bed in the motel room.

“Hold your horses, you haven’t heard the other options yet.” I caution him.

“No, those are the options.” Luci says.

I glance back at Luci. “What? That’s it? I could sworn this place had like… a poor imitation of a Moksan noodlehouse here…”

“Went out of business eight years ago.” Luci says.

I lean back in my chair, scratching my head. “Is there a seafood place…?”

“Dude, we’re in a landlocked district, in a farming town, in the middle of literally nowhere.” Luci says. “What makes you think anybody in this town has so much as touched a fish before? You could probably go out there and slap someone with it and they wouldn’t know what you hit them with.”

“Well fiddlesticks.” I say, then shrug. “Not like it matters to me ’n Sierra, it’s you two that need to eat.”

“Tiffany’s.” Ridge repeats from his bed, again without looking away from his phone.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little curious about how this tarjack tastes.” Luci say, thumbing through the menu.

There’s a rattle as the door unlocks, and Sierra steps in. “I’m back with good news and bad news.” she says, closing the door behind her and locking it. “Good news is that I know when the school lets out. Bad news is that Ratchet’s kid doesn’t ride the bus. Her uncle goes to pick her up.”

I grimace, leaning my head back. “…that’s going to make it hard to talk with her.”

“Considering how hard you and Ratchet’s brother were going at it?” Sierra says, tossing the keys onto one of the bedside tables. “Yeah. And we don’t have time to sneak Ridge into the school as a student to get close to Ratchet’s kid. Being fancy about this is going to take too long; we’re just going to have to take you up there to talk to her once she gets out of school, Feroce. Hopefully the five or ten minutes it takes Kori to arrive will be enough to convince her to jump on the bandwagon.”

“Why, did CURSE find out we’re here?” Luci asks, sitting up on the bed.

“No, but I don’t trust Ratchet’s brother.” Sierra says, pulling a chair over to sit cornerwise from me. “The dude’s carrying a grudge; I can smell it. He’s got a chip on his shoulder and an axe to grind, and he’s going to act on it if we stay here too long. We need to get this over with and get off this backworld dump as soon as possible.”

“I hate it when I agree with you.” I mutter. “I just wish we had more time. It’s hard to make a convincing case when you just show up at someone’s door one day and ask them to pick up and leave their entire life.”

“Hey, it worked with you.” Luci points out.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I had no family. And it became the only feasible option after I got framed for killing someone and thrown in a cell for it. I don’t think ruining Renchiko’s life in order to convince her to leave Shanaurse is the best way to go about it.”

“I mean, it is an option…” Sierra says, pulling out her phone.

“One we’re not going to employ. We’ll talk to her, make the offer, if she turns it down, then we’ll just have to move on.” I say. “It’s not optimal, but until we get into one of the Bastions, getting the Vaunted or CURSE called down on our heads is something we need to avoid doing.”

“You won’t catch me disagreeing.” Sierra says, looking at the other two. “Luci, Ridge, you guys figured out what you want to eat yet?”

“The kid’s pretty fixed on Tiffany’s, so I guess we’re doing Tiffany’s.” Luci says, locking his phone and tucking it in his pocket. “You two want anything?”

“Feroce won’t eat anything because he’s a big baby about vampire food ethics, and I’d only eat something if there was something in this town worth eating.” Sierra says, folding one leg over her knee so she can check the sole of her boot, as if worried there would be gum stuck to the bottom of it. “Why don’t you two go and and grab your food right now, before the dinner rush. I don’t want too many people getting familiar with our faces here.”

“Can do, Boss.” Luci says, rolling off the bed and jumping to his feet. “C’mon, kid, let’s go get something to nom on.”

“You realize I’m taller than you, right?” Ridge grunts, getting off his bed.

“Just because you’re taller than me doesn’t mean you’re older. You’re still a kid to me.” Luci says, grabbing the keys off the bedside. “Alright, we’ll be back. Just text us if you change your minds and you want something.”

Sierra waits until the door’s closed behind them, then looks at me and laces her fingers together. Seems like she was using dinner as an excuse to get Luci and Ridge out of the room so she could talk to me alone. “So.” she begins. “Is she going to be worth it?”

I look at her, then down at my hands. “Might be. Depends. Luci told me what he found out from his initial reconnaissance trip months ago. She’s a smart kid. Aces her classes, spends her spare time building a homebrewed mini-mech in her uncle’s junkyard. She reads books on Titan piloting and mechanics and systems, won first place at the multi-district science fair last year. Rumor goes that the only reason she didn’t win this year is that they’ve got a farming bias here on Shanaurse, and some other kid had a project proposing a different field shape and seed-sowing pattern that could theoretically help the drones harvest crops more efficiently.”

“Definitely sounds like she’s Ratchet’s daughter.” Sierra says. “So will she come with us if we offer her a chance to pilot Titans? Seems pretty simple to me.”

“She wants to pilot, that much is obvious.” I agree. “The question is what Kori’s done to her in the ten years since I had to leave. If he poisoned her against the Challengers, then she may not want to come with us, even if we do offer her the chance to pilot Titans in the future.”

“Would that work?” Sierra asks. “Her mother was a Challenger. A famous one, at that. Seems like it’d be hard for him turn the kid against them.”

“That’s true, but first, it’s been a decade. If you spend ten years trying to change someone’s mind about something, you’ll get somewhere eventually, even if it is just planting doubts.” I point out. “Second, she was seven at the time I had to leave. When you’re younger, you’re more susceptible to being influenced and having your mind changed by the persuasions of others. Put those two things together, and it’s very possible he conditioned her to be hostile towards Challengers.”

“And what are the chances he’s done that?” Sierra asks, leaning her head back and closing her eye.

“On purpose?” I say. “Fifty fifty. But the chance he’s done it unintentionally? Probably ninety ten. You don’t need to tell someone what you think about something for them to know how you feel about it. How you act and react to a topic whenever it comes up can give hints, and those hints build up over time. And as you get to know a person better, you start to understand how they feel about certain things based off the knowledge you have of them, and their reaction to certain topics. She’s lived with him for thirteen years; she probably knows perfectly well how he feels about Challengers.”

“Question is, does she feel the same way?” Sierra says without opening her eye. “We’re not here to deprogram someone’s prejudices, and if that’s what it’s gonna take to get her to get on with us, it’s not gonna happen. We’re mercenaries, not psychotherapists.”

“Suppose we’ll just have to talk to her and see.” I say, slumping in my chair a little. “Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow.” Sierra agrees. “We’ll give it a shot. If it gets us somewhere, we’ll stay a little longer to follow up on it. If it doesn’t get us anywhere, we’ll move on.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I say, leaning my head back and closing my eyes again. “And now, the fun part: waiting.”

Silence settles in the room for a moment, before Sierra breaks it. “You wanna fool around a bit while the boys are out getting lunch?”

“That’s what you’ve got Luci for, Sierra.”

“I’m just sayin’, you’re really tense, and you could stand to loosen up a bit.”

“I’m not going to take a roll in the hay with a ranking officer.”

“C’mon, I promise I won’t bite. Besides, what’s the point of immortal youth if you’re not going to enjoy it?”

“Presumably, doing things other than fooling around in bed. Don’t you ever get bored of it?”

“Sometimes. But that’s when you start to experiment. Try new things. Keep it fresh. Spice it up a bit. Try new people. Like you!”

“I’m almost flattered.”

“Gods, you’re no fun. I bet you’ve never slept with anyone before.”

“You would be correct.”

“Well, that explains a lot. Y’know, Feroce, there’s a lot I could teach you.”

“Less than you might think. I’ve had some interesting friends.”

“Oh really now?”

“They were quite liberal with their knowledge. Not that I asked for it, but to many of them, sharing is caring, and many of them shared what they knew… whether or not I actually wanted them to share.”

“Sounds like you had good friends.”

“They were degenerates, but they were good people. Kind to me. It simply amused them to fill my head up with carnal information. I think they liked watching my reactions.”

“Well, I’m a veritable encyclopedia of thirteen millennia of carnal genius…”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Shame.”

There’s silence for a couple minutes. Then:

“Alright, I changed my mind. I just realized how much I missed the taste of a good hometown burger.”

“Same, except I want fizzwater.”

“You want to text, or should I?”

“Ugh, you’ve already got your phone out, right? I don’t want to dig around in my pocket for mine.”

“I’ve got it out, but I’d have to open my eye in order to text.”

“You’re so lazy.”

“Like you’re any better.”

“I’ll rock paper scissors you for it.”

“It’s literally just a text, Feroce.”

“If it’s so simple, then you do it.”

“Maybe I will.”

Silence for several seconds. Then:

“You’re not going to do it, are you.”

“I’m working up the will to open my eye.”

“How long is that gonna take you?”

“Not sure, it might take a couple minutes. I have to convince myself that it’s worth the effort required to get a burger that I don’t actually need.”

“Well, I can’t wait that long. How about this: you work up the will to pass me your phone, and I’ll put together the text and send it. Sound fair? This way we’re splitting the effort.”

“Sounds fair ‘nuff.” There’s the sound of Sierra shifting in her chair, and her phone drops into my lap a moment later. Tilting my head forward, I pick it up and start tapping out a message to Luci. It takes a couple minutes, but the response eventually comes back.

“He says they’ve already ordered.” I sigh, tilting my head back and closing my eyes again.

“Ugh. Figures. After all that effort we put in.” Sierra huffs. “Guess we’ll just go without.”

“Mhmm.”

We sink back into silence once more. Eventually Sierra speaks up.

“Maybe I could have a bite of Luci’s burger when he gets back and you can have a sip of Ridge’s fizzwater.”

“Works for me.”

“We’re evil geniuses.”

“Hell yeah.”

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

District 38: District School 38

12/6/12763 3:23pm SGT

“This has got to be the smallest school I’ve ever seen.” Sierra says, staring out the window at the front doors of the school. We’re currently parked on the curb in the roundabout at the front, waiting along with a bunch of other parents in trucks that are here to pick up their kids. “They’ve probably got every grade crammed in there.”

“It’s a small town.” I answer. I’ve got the window rolled down, and I’m watching the front doors. “They don’t have enough kids here to justify having individual buildings for an elementary, middle, and high school. So it’s all crammed into a single building.”

“This has got to be the most boring mission I’ve been on so far.” Ridge grumbles from the backseat, where he’s slouched down, tapping away at his phone. “It’s basically a glorified custody battle.”

“You missed the part where the uncle threatened us with a shotgun.” Sierra says, pulling a flask out of her jacket and screwing it open.

“Really? Why didn’t you bring me along for that part?” Ridge demands.

“Because a sullen, middle-aged man was threatening us with shotgun.” I answer. “Though on second thought, maybe we should’ve brought you. He might’ve thought twice about pulling the shotgun trick with a kid there.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You’re a minor. It’s close enough.” I say, before catching the scent of blood and looking over at Sierra. She offers the flask to me after taking a sip.

“Want some?” she asks.

“What type?” I ask hesitantly.

“Virgin Calyri.”

“Good grief, are you sure? Every time I catch you during sacrament, you’re drinking the good stuff.” I say, reaching out to take the flask.

“I can’t stand the regular stuff. I need variety in my diet.” she says, leaning her elbow against the ledge of her window and resting her head on her hand. “Besides, I’m thirteen thousand years old. I deserve it at my age.”

I take a sip, then hold a hand to my mouth and cough. “Anaya above, that’s good.”

“I’ll get you a bottle sometime, if you do well on one of your missions.” Sierra says, taking back the flask and screwing the lid back on. The shrilling of the end-of-day bell draws our attention back to the school, and Sierra gives me a nudge. “That’s your cue.”

“Yeah, I know.” I say, opening the door and getting out of the car. Kids are already starting to stream out of the school; closing the door behind me, I tuck my hands in the pockets of my longcoat, standing by the curb as I study the faces coming out the school. Luci had managed to get me a picture of Renchiko, so I at least knew what I was looking for.

Because the school is small, it doesn’t take long for the flow of students to slow down. The vehicles that had pulled up here are already starting to peel away once they’ve picked up their kids, with others pulling up to take their spots. I get more than a few looks from the kids leaving the school; I don’t know if they recognize me or not. Most of them seem to be steering clear of me anyway, but it’s a good few moments before I find who I’m looking for, and only because she’s not moving.

She’s come to a stop about twenty feet away from me; the garage cap is probably what prevented me from recognizing her. Underneath it, she looks like a younger version of her mother; wiry and on the short side, her black hair cut to about chin level, fingertips stained dark with the leftover residue of working on machines. Even if it wasn’t on her fingers, it shows on her rugged, dark green jacket, and her frayed cargo pants.

Just standing there, staring at me with those green eyes.

“Hey, Renchiko.” I say quietly. “Told you I’d be be back. Sorry it took longer than expected.”

She just stares. “You haven’t aged a day.” she whispers.

I give a weak shrug. “Yeah. That’s about how it goes with what I am.” After a moment of awkward silence, I go on. “You still want to pilot a Titan?”

The question only seems to shock her further, but something catches her attention off to the side. I turn to see what it is, and find out when I catch a set of knuckles square to the face. My hands come out of my pockets as I stagger a few steps, steady myself, and wipe my hand across my nose. It comes away bloody, and shouting starts to resolve in the background as I get my wits back about me.

“—got the nerve to come out here after I told you to get out of here? You don’t get to talk to her after you left my sister behind to die! This time I am gonna call the police, and we’ll get this sorted out for good!”

I shake my head as the last of the sparkles fade from my vision. Say what you will about Kori, he’s got a good right hook. “You’re really pissin’ me off, Kori.” I say, opening one eye and glaring at him. “I left Ratchet behind because she told me to. You know that. She was my commanding officer, and she gave me an order. I followed it.”

“There are some orders you don’t follow.” Kori snarls at me. “But because you’re a coward, you took the easy way out. You don’t earn any points for running away and saving your own hide.”

I raise a hand and wipe away some more of the blood dripping from my nose. It’s mainly to distract myself, because at the moment, I really want to run him through the wringer the way I did with Cahriu. I’m trying to stay calm, but my buttons are getting pushed something fierce right now.

“I ain’t got the time to argue with idiots, Kori. I already told you I didn’t come here for your answer. I came here for hers.” I look at Renchiko now. “We’re training another generation of warriors. Heroes, if you want to be so bold and call it that. People that can protect the galaxy from everything that CURSE is doing a bad job of protecting them from. Your mother wanted me to train you, since she would never get the chance to, so here’s the offer. You might get the chance to pilot a Titan along the way.”

“The answer is no.” Kori says, grabbing Renchiko’s arm and starting back towards his idling truck. “We’re leaving.”

“Wait!” Renchiko says, digging her feet in and turning to look back at me. It’s not a friendly look. “Why didn’t you come back after that last mission? The least you could’ve done was tell me how my mother died before running off!”

I stare at her. “I… but I did…” As the pieces start clicking into piece, I realize what must’ve happened all those years ago, and I lock onto Kori. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Didn’t tell me what?” Renchiko demands.

“We’re leaving.” Kori repeats, starting to pull her towards the truck again.

“No the hell you’re not!” I shout at him, then look at Renchiko again. “After your mother died, I did come back. Because she asked me to go back and look after you, and train you. But when I got back, your uncle wouldn’t let me in the house. He packed all my stuff and left it outside the front door, and when I got there, he told me to leave Shanaurse or he would call CURSE on me. The whole reason your mother brought us to Shanaurse in the first place was because CURSE wouldn’t think to look for us here. She didn’t want them getting their hands on you. I had no choice but to leave in order to keep CURSE away from this planet, and I suspect your uncle knew that damn well.” I look back at him now. “What I didn’t expect was that he’d lie about forcing me to leave. What did he tell you, that I just ran off after your mother died?”

“I’m calling the police.” Kori says, digging his phone out of his jacket.

“Yeah, you do that.” I snap at him. “Your mother asked me to train you, Renchiko, so that’s what I’m here to offer now. She wanted you to see the galaxy, and defend it, not spend your entire life on a farm rock out on the frontier.”

“Renchiko, in the truck, NOW.” Kori orders, pointing to his truck. After a last look at me, she reluctantly heads for the truck, getting into it. Once she’s in, Kori follows after her, speaking over his shoulder to me. “I should’ve shot you when I had the chance.”

I scowl. “Every lie you tell incurs a debt to the truth, Kori, and one day, that debt has to be paid in full. I hope that was the only lie you told her, or you might be stuck with a bill that you can’t pay off.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, just glaring at me with his phone to his ear as he gets into the driver side of his truck. “Yes? Delaney? Yeah, this is Koriah Nagatain. I’ve got something to report; it’s much bigger than scrap thieves this time…”

The door to the truck slams shut, and it takes off shortly afterwards. Reaching up, I touch a hand to my nose; it feels like Kori broke it, and it’s also warm to the touch as my body slowly burns through blood, healing the damage. Ignoring the few students left outside the school that are staring at me, I head back to the car, yanking open the door and getting in. Sierra wordlessly offers her flask to me, and I take it, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig as she starts the car again.

“So.” she says, putting the car into drive. “Is it worth a follow up?”

“It is.” I say, capping the flask and handing it back to her. “Question is, how do we stay in town long enough to talk to her without the police getting on our asses, and how do we get her away from Kori long enough to have an actual conversation with her?”

Sierra smiles as we start pulling through the roundabout. “Teenagers like to sulk. She’ll probably be doing exactly that in her room tonight; you just have to figure out a way to get in there without alerting Kori to your presence. As for the police… leave that to me and Luci. We know a thing or two about how to keep law enforcement busy. We’ll keep them out of the way if you can find a way to sneak in and talk with Renchiko.”

“And here I was, hoping we’d actually be able to do this without breaking the law.” I mutter, shaking my head. “Silly me.”

“If you want to make an omelette, you’ve gotta break a few eggs, Feroce.” Sierra says as we pull out onto the highway. “Let’s grab an early dinner. If Kori really is calling the fuzz, then we’re on borrowed time. We might have to wrap this up tonight and get out by daybreak tomorrow.”

“Are we really the good guys if we have to keep running from the police, the Vaunted, and CURSE?” Ridge asks from the backseat.

“Yes.” Luci, Sierra, and myself all answer simultaneously.

“Okay, okay, I was just checking.” he mutters, sinking lower in his seat. “It just makes you wonder, when you’re constantly on the run from the law…”

“The fact that we’re outlaws is a product of the Vaunted and the police being prejudiced by disinformation distributed by CURSE.” I answer. “And CURSE produces that disinformation because they have a political agenda, and we represent a threat to their power monopoly. We are the good guys; we just need a chance to prove it.”

“Yeah, when’s that gonna be?” Ridge asks.

“Well, there was the thing at the Challenger Museum, and then there was the thing at the Sanctuary on Wisconsin, and we’re also helping the Masklings track down their long-lost arkship, so… yeah.” I say, listing it off on my fingers. “We’re doing good things. We’re just not getting a lot of good publicity for it.”

“Maybe because we’re getting cozy with one of the most hated races in the galaxy…” Ridge points out.

“Sitting with the unpopular kid at lunch might not be easy, but it’s the right thing to do.” I say, folding my arms. “Being as I was the unpopular kid in school, trust me when I say that they appreciate the company.”

“Funny, because you beat up a bunch of them three weeks ago when one of them stole your girlfriend.” Ridge mutters under his breath.

I twist in my seat to glare back at him. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Boys.” Sierra says before an argument can really get going. I turn back around, slouching in my chair with arms folded, as sullen silence settles in the car again. The buildings of the town pass by in depressing, worn-down quietude, until Luci speaks up.

“Flapjack Attack?” he suggests.

“Yes, please.” Ridge says immediately.

“It was actually pretty good.” I admit.

“I think I’m going to try the tarjack this time.” Sierra says as she makes the turn down the road leading to Flapjack Attack. “Hang onto your tits, boys, we’re having pancakes for an early dinner tonight.”

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

District 38: D38 Salvage and Repair

11:04pm SGT

“Just for the record, I want to say that this is a bad plan.” Ridge says, his arms folded grumpily in the passenger’s seat. He’s been in a foul mood ever since I told him him he couldn’t have his phone out, since the glow of the screen would give away that there was someone in the car. We’re currently parked on the curb of one of the streets near the junkyard, where we can see a deputy’s truck staked out in front of the junkyard’s main entrance, keeping watch.

“I’ll admit it leaves a lot to be desired.” I reply. “But we’ve got limited options and limited time, so this is the best we can do at the moment.”

“So what, you’re just going to walk up there and step inside?” Ridge demands.

“Not quite.” I say, staying slouched low in my seat on the off chance that anyone points their headlights in our direction. “There’s a way to get in through the roof. Once Sierra and Luci’s distraction draws off the deputy, I’ll head in through there.”

“What if someone hears you?” Ridge asks.

“I’m a sonic sorcerer. I can be silent when I want to be.” I say, turning my head. This late at night, the only illumination in the town are the stars overhead, and the streetlights from the main road. But there’s a third glow, this one orange and getting bigger, coming from the edge of town, and coupled with what sounds like not-so-distant sirens.

“What’s that?” Ridge asks, noticing the direction I’m looking in.

“The distraction.” I say as the deputy’s truck rumbles to life, the headlights coming on. “Sierra and Luci are setting fire to the abandoned houses on the outskirts of the town.”

Ridge gives me an incredulous look.

“We’re the good guys, I promise.” I mutter as the deputy gets out of his car, and starts towards the shop. Kori comes out the front door and meets him halfway there; it looks like the deputy’s explaining he has to leave to go help out with the fires. After that short exchange, they go their ways, Kori back to the shop and the deputy back to his truck, which soon takes off, headed for the edge of town. Once it’s gone, I quietly open my door.

“I’ll be back.” I say as I slip out of the car. “If you need me, text me.”

With that, I slowly close the door of the car, easing it shut so it doesn’t make the loud clomp that vehicle doors usually do when you shut them. Once that’s done, I bring my hands up, taking a breath; it’s been a while since I’ve done this. I start humming to myself, and as I do, a little clear bubble forms between my hands; it starts to expand until it passes through me, and surrounds me for a good five feet on every side. No noise generated inside the bubble will be able to be heard outside the bubble, so my footsteps, any gravel crunching, any rustling I give off — no one will hear it.

Now I just needed to make sure nobody saw me, and I would essentially be a ghost.

I start into a sprint, running down the street until I reach the fence of the junkyard, and start scaling it. There’s razor wire looped through the top; I pull out one of my ninjato hilts and ignite it behind my back, to hide the ignition flash. Then I use it to cut a gap in the loops, flicking the wire away and deactivating the blade as I climb over the fence, and drop down onto the pile of scrap on the other side.

Ahead of me, a few lights are on in the shop, but there’s no response to my breach of the perimeter.

Carefully working my way down the pile, I stay low and try to stay behind piles of junk as much as possible as I work my way towards the back of the shop. The front and side have always been used for the business; servicing trucks and farming drones. But the back and the second floor are residential; it’s where Kori and Renchiko live, and where Ratchet and I also used to live ten years ago. Winding through the junk piles, I angle towards the back, where some of the drones are parked — and rather than try to go around them, I start to climb up one. Once I get to the top, I gauge the distance between the drone and the roof, then take a running start and vault across the gap, hands out to brace myself as I hit the roof.

There’s a thud as I land, at least within the sound bubble. I’m hoping it wasn’t loud enough to escape it, and I wait for thirty seconds to see if anybody will come out. But nobody does, so I start moving again, making my way up the low-slanted roof to the skylight at the top. Peering into it, I can see that Renchiko’s asleep in her bed within, so I make sure my sound bubble encompasses the window, then take out my ninjato hilt again. Igniting it, I dig the tip into the seam between the window and its housing, and pry it until the latch breaks off. Easing the skylight open, I get a good grip on the edge, then drop my legs and body in, and let go. There’s another thud as I hit the floor — and given that Renchiko doesn’t move in her bed, the sound bubble managed to contain that as well. Standing up, I look over my shoulder at the door, just to make sure that it’s closed.

When I look back around again, it’s to find that she’s rolled over in her bed and she’s pointing what looks like a pistol at me.

I put my hands up, expanding the sound bubble in the same motion, so that it encompasses both me and her. “Hey there, Little Sister.” I say quietly.

“Are you here to kidnap me?” she demands. I notice that under the covers, she’s been wearing her day clothes — seems she was expecting a visit.

“No, just here to talk. If you want to stay, you can stay. If you want to come with me, I can have you out of here by midnight. It’ll be your choice, though.” I say, keeping my hands up as I study her pistol. It’s a coilgun, for sure, but it’s definitely homebuilt. The coil is exposed, as are the wires, and the grip looks likes it was cannibalized from what might’ve once been a paintball pistol. “You want to put that down and we’ll talk?”

“So long as you don’t try anything funny.” she says, lowering the pistol.

“Never been much of a comedian.” I reply, slowly lowering my hands. “Is your door locked? I don’t want Kori interrupting us while we’re trying to have a conversation.”

Her eyes go to the door. “It doesn’t have a lock.”

I look around the room. “I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not.” I say, going over to the desk and grabbing the chair. Pulling it over to the door, I wedge it under the doorknob, then make my way back to her bed, stepping over her backpack and some parts left on the floor. “My parents didn’t let me or my siblings have locks on our doors either. Privacy was a privilege and not a right.” Reaching her bed, I sit down on the end of it, then look at her. “So. Here we are.”

“Is it true?” she asks. The gun’s resting her lap now, and there’s a desperation in her eyes that was veiled and hidden before. “Did my uncle force you to leave?”

I take a deep breath, even though I don’t need it. “Yeah.” I say quietly, looking down at my hands. “Yeah, he gave me that ultimatum ten years ago. Either I left or he called CURSE. I won’t lie, it was a right bastard thing to do, but I want to believe his heart was in the right place. You’re his niece. He wanted to protect you. I don’t agree with the decision he made, and I’m not saying he was right to do it, but I do understand why he might’ve done it.”

Renchiko finally lets go of the gun as she reaches up and wipes her eyes, looking out the window beside her bed. “He never told me that. I spent so many years being angry at you because I thought you’d just ran away after Mom died, after you promised me that both of you were going to come back, and neither of you ever came back. I was angry for so long, and I got angry every time I saw a news headline about you, but now there’s just this big empty space where the anger was now that I know the truth, and… I don’t know what to do. I’ve spent so long being angry I don’t know how to feel.”

“Yeah.” I say, not sure what to say to that. I’m many things, but a family therapist is not one of them. “He should’ve at least told you the truth.”

“He should’ve.” she agrees, taking a couple of deep breaths and keeping her head turned away, like she doesn’t want me to see the brief tears that escaped from her.

The conversation goes to a lull after that. There’s a few ways I’d expected this to play out, but this hadn’t been one of them. I’d expected maybe an argument, or perhaps a joyous reunion, but this was neither of those. Neither of us were angry at each other; we were somewhat happy to see each other, to discover the truth, but there was this feeling that couldn’t be denied. It was the sense of lost time, a keen awareness of the things we could’ve done, the sibling relationship we could’ve had, if only we had just known. It was something that had gotten put on pause, and the ten years between had become lost opportunities. I’d lost the chance to be there while she grew up. She’d lost the chance to have an older brother while she grew up.

Lost time and lost chances neither of us could get back.

“I wanted to be there.” I say after a while, breaking the silence. “I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to be there to teach you things that you mother would’ve wanted you to learn. I wanted to be there to introduce you to Titans, and help you start learning about them, start training to become a pilot. The way your mother trained me to be a pilot. That’s what she wanted me to do, and that’s what I wanted to do for you. And I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to do that.”

“How did she die?” she asks, moving her pistol to the side so she could pull her legs up and wrap her arms around them.

I look at her. “Did Kori not tell you?”

“He told me that you were ambushed on the last mission you went on.” she answers. “But that’s all he ever said. He wouldn’t give me details — just said that you ran and left Mom to die.”

“Well, that’s technically true.” I sigh. “I did run. But I ran because your mother told me to leave her behind. It’s a long story, but the short of it is that we were ambushed, and the Firefly Blue took crippling damage that left us vulnerable. The cockpit suffered heavy damage, and the Collective were trying to breach it so they could assimilate us. Your mother was pinned by some of the damaged equipment and couldn’t get free, so she ordered me to leave. She activated the Firefly’s self-destruct once I was clear.” I shake my head. “I try not to think about it too often. It’s not a memory I like reliving.”

“Sorry.” she says. “What did you do once Kori forced you to leave? Where did you go?”

“Also a long story.” I say, straightening up. “I’ve worn a lot of hats and been a lot of places over the last decade. As much as I’d like to talk about it now, we really don’t have the time.” I turn to face her more properly. “A couple of old Challengers found me. We’re traveling with a mercforce, and we’re embarking on a project to start a new group. We’re planning on doing what the Challengers used to do, but without the corruption or strings that tangled up the Challenger program before it went down. We came here because we wanted to offer you the chance to be a part of it.”

“You want me to come with you?” Renchiko says, sitting up a little.

“If you want to come, yes.” I say quietly. “If you want to fight the sort of fights that your mother used to fight and do the sort of things she used to do, then yes. We’re offering you a place on the project. It’s not gonna be an easy ride — you’ll have to work and put effort in. We’re traveling on a secondhand tin can of a battlecruiser that operates from a mobile fortress that’s probably just as clunky. But we’re working on getting access to Challenger infrastructure, and we’re already helping out some people that need help. It’s a slow start, and we’re just a small outfit at the moment, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere.”

“I’d have to leave Shanaurse, right?” she asks. “They say the Dussel Mercforce moves around. They’ve been in and out of dark space.”

“Yeah. We never stay in one place for long; we have to stay moving to keep CURSE from catching up to us.” I confirm. “If you leave here, you probably won’t be back for a long time. Maybe years.”

“It’s not like I really want to stay here. There’s nothing out here.” Renchiko says, looking out the window again. “But I’d feel bad about leaving Kori. It’s just him out here. I’m the only family he’s got.” After a moment, she looks back to me. “Can I have some time to think about it?”

I grimace. “I wish I could give you that, but I can’t. Your uncle tipped off the police that we were here in town, who probably tipped off the planetguard, who probably called the Vaunted and CURSE. Cop cars have been crawling up and down the streets all evening, looking for us, and it won’t be long before federal law enforcement gets here, and likely Vaunted a few days after that, and then CURSE a few days after that. You’re going to have to decide tonight, because me and the others have to be gone by daybreak. Preferably before that. The sooner we leave, the less time the police have to try and set up checkpoints and barricades on the road out.” I give that a moment to let it all sink in. “I know it’s asking a lot, but I’m going to need you to make a decision within the hour. Do you want to come with us, or would you prefer to stay here?”

She looks around her room. It’s much the same as I remember it; the extra bed has been removed, since it was just her in here, and boxes of parts and scrap line the walls. Hanging on one of the walls is an old, faded holoposter of Ratchet in her glory days, dressed in her pilot plugsuit and standing on the shoulder of the Firefly Blue, leaning against the massive head unit that dwarfs her.

“You said I’ll get a chance to pilot a Titan?” she asks softly.

“If you’re willing to put the work in.” I say. “We don’t have access to any right now, but I know there were some spares in the hangars of the scattered Bastions. Once we crack the other layers of the backup archive and get the Bastions’ access codes, we’ll be able to get into the Bastions — and by extension, any Titans they might house. You’ll still need proper training and education in order to pilot one, but we can make that happen.”

She lets out a long breath, nodding. I can tell she’s trying to do the quick calculus in her head, weighing the consequences a decision like this will have. I can’t imagine what’s going through her head, to be offered a choice like this at her age. If it had been me in her shoes at that age, I’m pretty sure I would’ve turned the offer down.

That being said, I’ve come a long way since I was seventeen, and I’m definitely not the same person now as I was then.

“Alright.” Renchiko says, looking back to me. “How much can I take?”

I look around the room, thinking about what we can fit in the car. “One suitcase. I think that’s all the room that we’ve got in the trunk. So it should have all your favorite clothes, toothbrush and other toiletries, any tech you want to take with you, any sentimental items. Everything else has to stay behind.”

“That’s gonna be hard.” she says, looking around her room again. “I don’t know how I’m going to get packed without getting Kori’s attention. If he hears me moving around too much up here, he’s going to wonder what I’m doing…”

“Leave that part to me.” I say, returning my attention to the faint bubble around us, and raising my hands. After a moment to focus, I push them outwards, the border of that bubble extending outwards until it covers most of the room. “There. Sound doesn’t leave this bubble, so as long as you stay within it, he shouldn’t hear anything. Now, where do you want to start? I might be able to help you pack quicker.”

“Well…” she says as she gets out from beneath the covers, and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Her eyes settle on the holoposter on the wall.

“Start with the holoposter. I’ll start going through my clothes…”

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

District 38: D38 Salvage and Repair

12/7/12763 1:29am SGT

“So that’s it? She just up and decided to leave the only home she’s ever known?” Sierra says, her arms folded. We’re standing on the corner of the street adjacent to the junkyard, listening to the sirens in the distance. Behind us, Luci’s helping Renchiko load her suitcase and backpack into the trunk of the car.

“It’s more than that.” I say, fluffing the hood of my longcoat up over my head to guard against the thin cold of Shanaurse’s winter. “The big ticket is that she might get to pilot a Titan eventually, but she’s got other reasons. What matters is that she’s decided to come along.” Tilting my head back, I study the orange glow now outlining much of the town’s feeble skyline. “Did you have to set so many houses on fire?”

“Well, it’s not like anyone was living in them.” Sierra shrugs, her breath crystallizing on the cold air. “Really, we’re doing the town a favor. Removing eyesores from the landscape and clearing land for new houses to be built atop the ashes.”

“Somehow I think the local government would take issue with that characterization of our actions.”

“They’ll thank us later.”

“No, I don’t believe they will.”

“Water and rain, it’s all the same.” Sierra says, waving it off. “At any rate, we’ve got the kid; it’s time to skip town. Can’t say I’ll miss this place.” She looks around at the weathered buildings, the peeling paint and the cracks in the road. “Dunno how you managed to stay here for three years without losing your mind.”

“It wasn’t easy.” I admit, turning back to the car as I hear the doors slamming, indicating Luci and Renchiko have gotten back into the car. “Going on offworld patrols with Ratchet is probably the only thing that kept me sane.”

“Well then, we’re doing the kid a favor, getting her out of here.” Sierra says, turning and following me back to the car. “Her uncle’s gonna be pissed when he finds out she’s gone, you know. Bet you five credits we’ll be seeing a headline in the next couple of weeks about resurgent Challengers going on a kidnapping spree.”

“She wrote him a note. He’ll know why she left, and he’ll know that it was of her own accord.” I reply. “I know I should feel sorry for him, but I don’t. He brought this on himself.”

Sierra grins, elbowing me. “For once, the goody two-shoes slips off the straight and narrow. Imagine the look on his face when he finds it tomorrow morning. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I give that a moment’s thought, to actually imagine what that would look like. What it would feel like. To come into the room to find the note on the bed, to read it and realize that your niece had run off to start fighting the same battles that had gotten her mother killed. Without so much as a word of goodbye or a warning beforehand; simply there one day and gone the next. The worry that would accompany such a thing, along with the sense of helplessness in knowing that she was already long gone. The questions that would inevitably arise, wondering where you had gone wrong as a parent, and what you could’ve done differently — all unanswered.

“No.” I say softly as we track through the darkness back to the car. “I can’t say it does.”