AN: 11 Advanced Chapters on my Patreon
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Starting next week, I will only be uploading on Tuesdays and Fridays until I reach an advanced number of 20 chapters on my Patreon.
Enjoy the chapter!
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The morning light bounced through the skylights of the factory, a feature that had surprisingly survived the passage of the years, pale shafts cutting through the dust notes that hung in the air like ash. The massive bulk of the reactor was on the ground, its polished metals gleaming with the bouncing light, waiting to be put into the ship and activated.
Mark had barely slept to get to this point, but it was a sacrifice he had deemed worthy. The reactor had now become just another piece of the puzzle, with only a handful of things missing installation to finally complete the Strathos' Shepherd. He stood before it, tablet in hand, as he checked how it would fit into the ship.
The drones around him had been replaced by newer models that Anahrin had been so kind to share the name of. These new drones hovered silently nearby, their unpainted chromatic shells reflecting the sunlight just like the reactor. Mark tapped a few times before gesturing to the drones, "Alright, you beautiful clankers, let's get this thing in place before my patience finally runs out."
The same harness that had been previously used by Anahrin to help with the bugger pieces of the ship was already rigged: four heavy cables anchored to reinforced struts above the unfinished ship, looped through pulleys to help stabilize the reactor as it was lifted into place. Each cable was about as thick as one of Mark's legs, but Mark checked them multiple times anyway.
The drones also engaged into place, a low whine filling the space as the cables tightened. The reactor shuddered a little as its entire weight was lifted off the floor, some of the alloy plates groaning faintly under the strain of gravity. Mark walked alongside the reactor, his eyes flicking between the table and the drones that were helping move it.
"Steady... steady... please for the love of God, stay level..." Mark's voice echoed with his worries in the cavernous space, a Hail Mary after the weeks of bad luck he'd had.
The ship loomed tall, its unfinished sections waiting for the installation of the reactor, the cavity for the reactor gaping wide and high. Mark jogged up the side gantry, climbing fast while barking orders at the mindless drones. Sweat rolled down his temple as his heart hammered in his chest.
The reactor hovered closer, inching towards the cavity as its massive mass shifted with every single movement of the cables, swaying like a pendulum. "Easy, fucking take it easy! Don't act too rashly now, you damn tin can, it can't be that hard to follow orders now, can it?"
The drones adjusted to his orders, moving more slowly than before, causing the swaying to reduce drastically. After some tense minutes, the drones finally managed to move the reactor inside the cavity, allowing Mark to let out a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding in.
"Alright. Time to get my hands dirty. Secure the base of the reactor and lock her in!"
Hydraulic clamps engaged with a metallic snap, locking the reactor's bottom frame into place while the cables above still bore the weight, keeping the reactor upright. Mark double checked the readings, which showed that everything was stable, for now.
His clothes changed from a loose and baggy pair of sweats and a hoodie into a comfortable, yet tight-fitting, set of clothes. A helmet also materialized on his head, a HUD automatically activating. Mark scanned the tablet with the HUD, connecting to it and retrieving the information he needed before diving into the maze of conduits, access shafts, and scaffolds that surrounded the reactor cavity.
Clamping the reactor wasn't enough to place the thing; no, it was still missing a ton of work. Wires needed to be drawn and connected, pipes, ducts, and other sorts of things needed to be tied together to ensure the reactor wouldn't go anywhere.
He crawled through the narrow crawlspace, pulling bundles of superconductor cables behind him. Sparks would spit in his videos whenever he had to strip wires for connections. He worked smoothly, taking his time to bolt down junction plates and sew up conduits with careful welds.
The heat inside the crawl spaces started to rise quickly, sweat quickly soaking beneath the clothes he wore. His breath echoed in his helmet, loud and ragged, as he kept on constantly muttering to himself. "Alright, now I just have to connect this regulator first... now that that's done, let's not touch this one... don't just eyeball it, measure twice... take my time, don't want to accidentally fuck something up now, do we?"
Hours passed like a flash, the air filled with the muffled hum of tools, the buzz of drones, and the creak of differing alloys under strain. All these sounds merged into one endless grind as Mark moved up in height, connecting and tightening things in place.
"Well, this is going smoothly," Mark said as his pace quickened, and so did his progress.
It hadn't even been 10 seconds since Mark had opened his mouth when a sound that was eerily familiar to Mark drew his attention.
He couldn't place where he had heard that sound before, but a sinking feeling settled in his chest as he craned his neck to look up. His eyes widened as realization hit him. "Don't tell me-"
A sharp and violent crack split the air above him. The sound of metal being ripped reverberated across the chamber as one of the four suspension cables had frayed under the strain of holding the reactor. Fibers of alloy were sent whiplashing as the cable tore loose, causing the entire reactor to barely shift down with a grinding roar.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mark scrambled to move away from the reactor, his boots clanging against the scaffolding before hugging one of the rails on one of the multiple levels of the reactor cavity. Sparks rained down from the cable's end as it whipped free, slashing across the upper hull plating with another deafening screech of tearing metal.
The drones were quick to act, swarming instinctively to hold the reactor in place, compensating for the snapped cable. The reactor groaned some more, but it held in place, anchored at the bottom by the clamps Mark had secured earlier and the massive metal pipes he had bolted together.
He froze on the mezzanine floor, eyes wide as he watched the reactor, expecting it to come crashing into the rest of the ship, but that sight never came. His breath came in harsh gulps as adrenaline shot through him, causing his vision to swim. His hands were trembling as he raised himself up. "Holy... holy shit."
He took some time to calm down before inspecting the reactor and ordering a drone to fly above the ship to see the damage done. A hysterical laugh filled with relief echoed through the chamber after a moment.
The damage wasn't catastrophic. The hull armor now bore a jagged scar where the snapped cable had struck, but miraculously, nothing structural had been damaged, and nothing irreplaceable had been destroyed. It was a major scare, but not much past that.
Mark attempted to scratch his head, but his helmet didn't allow him. His throat was dry as he spoke to himself, "Well, shit. I just had to open my big ass mouth. Now I've got more work to do..."
The rest of the day dragged on with Mark's nerves on edge. Now every creak of the cables made him flinch, every hum had him looking over his shoulders. But by dusk, the reactor had been fully wired and tightened to the ship's frame. It wasn't easy, but he had managed to pull it off.
He slumped against the wall of an unfinished corridor, his clothing switched into his comfortable sweats and hoodie, allowing him to finally wipe the sweat that had been dripping into his eyes for most of the day. His body ached, but a smile tugged at his lips as he took in the view of the installed reactor through bloodshot eyes.
"You tried taking me out," he muttered hoarsely. "But now you're in, you son of a bitch."
He was too tired to move from where he was and visit Anahrin. He lay flat on the floor and slowly fell asleep, thinking of just how close he was to finally finishing his ship.
---
The next day was a little weird as it rained for the first time since Mark had been on this planet. It wasn't a light drizzle either; it was a torrential downpour filled with constant lightning. Mark had opted to spend some time with Anahrin and chat with him, since he hadn't gotten the chance to do so the previous day.
He made his way down from the ship and to the medical chamber, the doors sliding open with a hiss, allowing him to walk through.
Anahrin stirred awake by the sound, like he always did, his eyes drawn to the doors before Mark's figure covered his sight.
"How're you holding up, Ani?" Mark asked as he took a seat in the chair that had almost become a second bed for him.
Anahrin raised an eyebrow as he eyed Mark. "I should be the one asking that... especially after yesterday's commotion."
Mark chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. It had grown longer over the month, and thus, his hand got caught in one of the knots. "Eh, you heard that?"
Anarhin gave Mark a deadpan look. "I'd be surprised if any lifeform with ears for a hundred-mile radius didn't hear that."
Mark chuckled, slowly nodding his head. "Yeah, yeah. Nothing much happened. One of the cables holding the reactor snapped in what I can only say was an attempt to take me out. But I finished installing the reactor and still have all my limbs and senses, so I think it was a good day."
Anahrin frowned and asked, "How'd that happen?"
Mark simply shrugged his shoulders as he spoke. "Dunno, beats me if I'm honest. I just have to replace that cable before I can install the engines today, and then move on to the missing armor and finally seal her up. I take the reactor's keycard, insert it to bring the reactor online, and fire her up. We let her charge for a few hours, and then you'll get to experience her maiden voyage."
Anahrin smiled softly. "You've worked faster than I expected... It seems you will keep your promise... after all."
Mark smiled bitterly, looking at Anahrin's glowing blue eyes. They had dimmed to the point that their bright blue glow had receded enough for Mark to actually see Anahrin's true eyes. They were swirls of yellow, contradictory to their usual glow.
Mark tilted his head as he spoke. "Hey, Ani, now that I can actually see your eyes, why do they glow a different color than they are? And what's up with the swirling, too?"
Anahrin smiled softly once again. "Ah, my eyes... well, the swirls are just how the eyes of the Starthari are... and the glow and color... well, the glow is simply always blue unless we feel other universal forces... there's never been any correlation between the two..."
It was Mark's turn to give Anahrin a deadpan look. "You couldn't just like, lie, or something. Make something up on the fly?"
Anahrin attempted a shoulder shrug, but his body barely moved. "Haha, if you were expecting... some grandiose explanation... then I'm sorry to disappoint..."
They spent some more time together before Anahrin started to feel too tired to continue.
Mark stood up from the chair and looked down at Anahrin. "Well then, I'm gonna get back to work. I think I should have this all ready by tonight, as long as the installation of the engines goes smoothly. See you later, Ani. Get some rest."
Anahrin smiled at Mark before closing his eyes and slipping into sleep.
Mark made his way back to the assembly chamber, where the engines waited near the ship. Each one of them was 50 meters deep, 15 meters tall, and 60 meters wide, and oval-rectangular in shape.
Mark stood before them with his tablet in hand, controlling the drones before him. He was about to get to work when he remembered that he hadn't replaced the cable to help install the engines.
It took two hours to print another cable and get it installed. Mark's feet wobbled as he stepped off two drones he had been using to bring him up to change the cable. "Shit, I thought I would never do it, but still did number three hundred and fifty-seven."
Mark took a few minutes to finish calming down after doing what he had just done. Once he was ready, he clicked on the tablet and moved the reinforced struts and pulleys to pick up the first engine. The new cargo drones swarmed into position, clamps locking onto the engine. Their stabilizers hummed, and with a slow and deliberate lift, the engine rose into the air.
There was no swaying this time around, no sudden creaks, nothing that would draw a side glance in panic. The drones worked in perfect coordination as Mark guided while jogging alongside on the scaffolding, shouting minor corrections.
It wasn't long before the first engine slid into its mountings with a thunderous clang, followed by the sound of clamps holding it in place.
"Beautiful," he whispered. "Absolutely beautiful."
The second engine followed suit just like the first. Another dance of drones and steel wires, carefully rising and drifting the other engine into place about 5 meters below the other.
Mark cracked his neck and stretched before climbing on top of the first ending and making his way through to the depths of it. Once he got there, he got to work, fastening thick rods into place against the framework of the ship. He then repeated the same thing with the second engine, tightening everything into place.
He then got into the crawlspace and ran the conduits, linking them to the reactor and its tanks. Hours passed in a flash, and it was already past mid-afternoon when Mark finished working with the engines.
He sat down for a while, admiring the ship as he rested.
The storm outside did not let up, only picking up strength as time passed. Lightning cut through the sky, and thunder rolled endlessly across the horizon. The rain slammed against the battered skylights, streaking down in heavy sheets, though the sounds were heavily muffled by the factory.
The jagged scar that stretched across the dorsal armor left by the snapped cable was the next thing he wanted to focus on. He rolled his shoulders and climbed onto the scaffolding, tablet clipped to his chest and a fresh panel of armor cradled by two drones behind him. The new chrome plating, fresh out of the printer, gleamed as lightning flashed overhead.
"Alright," Mark muttered as he stretched his back. "Time to stitch you up."
He crouched low and began cutting the twisted remnants of the damaged section, sparks flying from his torch as he cut through the warped edges. The sound echoed through the assembly chamber, and sweat trickled down his forehead beneath the helmet, but he kept it pushing.
Once he was done, he had some of the drones clamp onto the damaged plating and pick it up, allowing them to drop it once they had cleared the ship. The old plate fell away with a metallic groan, crashing onto the factory floor below with an ear-splitting noise that made Mark immediately regret his choice of action.
He then ordered the drones to bring in the new plating. The drones obeyed, humming softly as they carried the new panel up and over the ship's back, floating it into place. Mark guided it with one hand, adjusting the tilt until the lines matched, clamping them against the frame.
His torch sparked to life again as he welded the edges down, bead by bead, sparks raining over his boots. The rancid smell of scorched alloy filled the air as he worked methodically, letting the weld cool, then pressing in again, until at last the scar was gone. In its place stretched smooth armor.
Then the factory fell quiet, the occasional distant rumble of thunder being the only sound. Mark sat down on the hull, taking a little rest before going back down to finish the job.
By evening, the storm had begun to die down, the rain thinning into a mist that curled across the red landscape outside. Inside, the factory was alive with motion as Mark directed the last sheets of armor that were carried by the drones into place. Once fitted, he would get to welding with the same precision as the dorsal repair. Every bolt was tightened twice, and every seam was checked three times.
As the final layers of hull plating closed over the ship, the interior scaffolding began to vanish. The unfinished section of the ship's plating had finally been done, and Mark worked his way downward, ensuring the ship was fully sealed. By the time he climbed down from the scaffolding, the sky outside had gone dark, and the stars shone through the thin cloud cover, shimmering faintly.
The Strathos' Shepherd was now complete.
There was only one thing missing now, and that was to fuel her up. The drones had not only served to help carry the pieces of alloy that were cut from the heavy destroyer used to make Mark's ship, but they had also been tasked with exploring all of the ships nearby the factory, and surprisingly, a good number of them still had fuel in their tanks.
So they had extracted the Helium-3 from them, and now the only thing Mark needed to do was plug the Strathos' Shepherd into the tanks that held the Helium-3.
He stood at the far end of the chamber before the row of storage containers, massive cylinders, each one reinforced. Their metal walls glowed faintly from the cold storage systems humming within, condensation dripping in rhythmic patterns onto the floor.
Mark checked the readings of the tanks on his tablet as they had been consolidated into a single feed system, their output lines bundled into thick conduits that snaked across the floor toward the ship. All he had to do was link them into the ship's fueling ports, something that sounded a hell of a lot simpler than it looked.
"Alright, girl," he muttered, glancing up at the towering starship. "Bottom's up."
The fueling ports were built into the lower midsection of the hull, recessed beneath layered plating. He climbed up on top of one of the bigger drones, riding it like a floating work platform until he reached the first port. The cap was sealed with heavy clamps that hadn't been moved since they were first welded in.
It took him nearly twenty minutes, two tools, and a burst of swearing to break them loose, but after all the effort, the cap came free with a hiss.
He called up the drones again, and the conduits were dragged into place, their ribbed surfaces gleaming with moisture. Locking clamps snapped into the fueling port with a hollow clunk, and Mark triple-checked the seals before tapping at his tablet.
Status: CONNECTED.
Flow rate: STABLE.
Pressure: NOMINAL.
Mark exhaled slowly as he saw nothing wrong with the fueling sequence.
Through the conduits, Helium-3 surged in pressurized streams. The ship vibrated faintly as the tanks began to fill up. For hours, the fueling continued, and Mark, though tired, stayed nearby, monitoring every line and pressure gauge. The storm outside had faded entirely by now, leaving only a clean, star-pricked sky, and it was almost midnight by the time that the final warning blinked off his screen.
PRIMARY TANKS: FULL.
RESERVES: STABLE.
Mark leaned back against the railing, utterly drained. His arms trembled from the day's strain, but his eyes stayed locked on the readout. It felt surreal, after months of crawling through conduits, fighting collapsing scaffolds, welding until his vision blurred, his ship wasn't only built, but now it was even fueled.
He dragged a hand through his tangled hair and let out a hoarse laugh.
"All topped up," he whispered. "The only thing you're missing is a paint scheme."
Mark had already thought of what colors he wanted his ship to bear, and they were primarily Black and Red with accents of Gold. He put in the order for the drones to get to painting the ship, with the clear placement of the ship's name, "Strathos' Shepherd" being painted above the bow in military block.
After he had finished putting in the order and uploading the paint scheme to the drones, he made his way inside the ship. Once inside, he activated his EVA suit because he couldn't see jack shit in the pitch black corridors of a fully powered-down ship. His helmet lit up with thermal night vision that allowed him to walk without kissing a wall. He glanced down at the tablet in his hands every couple of seconds, ensuring he was going the right way.
The feeling of walking through this pitch black starship was eerie to say the least. There was a spooky sensation surrounding him as he walked, as if there was someone or something with him.
After about 5 minutes of walking and taking turns here and there, he finally entered the reactor room and made his way to the activation station. He stood before it for a few seconds before finally taking out the reactor's activation keycard from his system inventory.
He went to slide it into its slot, but stopped just before inserting it. He held it just centimeters from the slot and spoke to himself, "This... this feels wrong. Ani should be here with me..."
As he said those words, Mark felt a certain sense of peace overcome him. He then felt as if a hand held his own, and he inserted the card into the slot, twisting it as he shook his head. "Nah, better for him to see her in all her glory, ready to take us both for the ride of our lives."
The massive reactor slowly came to life, bathing the entire place in a hue of deep blue. Faint white lights slowly came to life all throughout the ship while Mark's mouth gaped as he saw the reactor fire up before him for the first time, excitement bubbling within him.
After a few minutes of admiration, Mark broke free from the trance he had fallen into and quickly tried to make his way to the bridge. It took him longer to do so, having to climb about 80 meters' worth of stairs.
Once he reached the bridge, he made his way to the captain's console. The panel was a wide slab of alloy with rows of glowing pressure-sealed screens, and control sticks sat in front of him. He ran a hand across the screens and pressed the activation.
The instant he pressed the activation, the console responded. A low hum shook through the frame beneath his palms as power surged from the reactor into the bridge. All the screens throughout the bridge lit up in succession in a dull orange, then in a steady white. The whole room brightened as overhead lights flickered to life, their glow bouncing off the panels.
He looked around as one by one, every system reported in.
Life support… active.
Internal sensors… active.
Guidance array… active.
Anahrin had written every line of the system architecture, and now it was checking itself off with a steady rhythm like a heartbeat. Then a prompt appeared on the central screen:
ENTER SHIP DESIGNATION:
Mark didn't hesitate, his fingers quickly tapping the screen as he typed.
STRATHOS' SHEPHERD
The words locked in, and a deep tone confirmed it as the ship acknowledged its given identity. Rows of screens to the left, right, and front of the captain's chair on the bridge changed, demonstrating the view of what was directly outside the ship so seamlessly that one couldn't notice there were multiple screens.
Mark leaned back in the captain's chair, staring at the name on the screen, and let out a long breath. 'I did it, I fucking did it. I now have a way off this damned rock,' he thought to himself as a tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it and stared at his trembling hand. "Why am I... crying?"