My optics flicker back online.
I awake in the station's heart, hooked up to a Regen Station in one of the bunk beds built into the walls. Moving is agony in itself, but dissonant due to the fact that the damage has largely been repaired. I sit up on the edge of a comfortable mattress, staring at my mechanical hand as I open and close it.
How odd to be on the verge of death, only to wake up unmarred by it. I've been put back together by a very skilled hand. I have gratitude I'll need to convey.
First checking my battery core levels, I find them at full capacity. Disconnecting the cable from the port on my ribs under my left arm, I let it retract into the Regen Station and test my balance.
My leg has been repaired with Vintner Station's finest. Duct tape, scrap metal welding, and, I assume, prayer.
I touch where my other wounds were. Yes, same there. They've been welded shut with what feels like decently thick metal plating. From what I can tell, my internal components have been patched up adequately. I can't notice any difference, not yet. Though I don't imagine I could have sustained a pierce to the chest without any complications.
Standing up, I find my balance to be adequate. The replacement of my leg point feels… different. I think I've lost some amount of coordination with it, but the skill of its craftsmanship may prove beneficial in terms of sturdiness.
Testing it out, I tap tap tap it on the floor, then do a quick pirouette. Hm. And a second. And a third. Yes, I'm satisfied.
As I'm gathering my weapons from nearby, I find an odd part to my thigh that I never noticed before. There's a small latch I can press, which opens up to reveal a sheath for a wicked looking knife. Maybe a quarter meter long, its edge is honed to a shaving razor's sharpness. That could come in handy. I put it back in place, making sure to remember it's there.
I'm discovering new things every day.
Hobbling out of the bunk, my chin length white hair hangs in my face as I search for anyone, preferably Quentin or Zenith. Instead I find Louis in the kitchen area, eating a sandwich. Halfway through chewing, he notices me, jaw hanging open slightly as he stares.
"Uh." He chews and swallows. "Avast."
"Avast." I lean against the wall, holding myself up with three points of contact. "It seems I nearly got meself scuttled, matey…"
"I'll say." He tosses the sandwich aside and gets up. "How shivered are yer timbers, matey? Took some nasty hits out there, ye did."
"I feel… okay. Do you know where the others are? I owe Zenith and Quentin significant thanks."
"Uh, yeah, let me–Let me help you. Do you need a hand? Or an arm? Shoulder? I dunno. Everything must go."
"It wouldn't hurt. I'm not used to this new leg point of mine."
He helps me over to another part of the Station I haven't been to, something like a conference area, with a long table and a few large monitors on the walls. The conversation ceases just seconds after the team sees us. When I get close, Zoya stands right away and offers me the chair at the head of the table.
I'm in no position to stand on circumstance, or stand at all, so I fall into it. "Thank you, Zoya."
"Of course, Nep. How are you?"
"Defeated, but far from done." Scanning the room I find that everyone is gathered here. "Zenith, I–"
"Don't," he cuts me off. "I was only following orders."
The implication being that he would have left me to die without being told to do the opposite. I can't say I blame him. With a heavy sigh, I instead turn to Quentin. "I owe you my life, don't I?"
"And I owe you my job, so we're even." He huffs a gruff laugh. "Honestly, patching you up was an interesting experience. Not every day I get to work with such advanced components. You're fucking future tech compared to these two antiques."
"Hey! I'm still young!"
"I'm certainly not…"
"Thank you, Quentin. I don't know how else to express my gratitude. You've done me a great service."
"How's this for a deal? Don't go getting yourself killed anymore."
"I'll do my best not to. Critical failures such as this one threaten my directive. I won't be making the same mistakes twice."
Zenith coldly responds, "That's rich."
A look passes around the room and something clicks.
They know something I don't. But what?
Henna nudges him but he keeps pressing, saying with fervor, "You're quite the machine of error, aren't you? I wonder what causes such misjudgments. Maybe there's something wrong with your protocol."
"There's nothing wrong with my protocol. Even my ninety-six threaded processors can't possibly account for every variable, and I have thirty two of them."
"Right. Future tech. You're that much better than us."
"Do you have an issue with me, Zenith? Is there some way I've offended you?"
"Stop it," Zoya commands him. "Stop instigating. Leave her alone."
"Yes ma'am," he responds, staring daggers at me.
I choose to ignore him, shifting focus to my observation from a moment ago. "Why would he say any of this to begin with? Zoya? Quentin? Louis?"
Louis yawns. "Cause he's kind of a dick."
Quentin lifts a finger, hesitates, then it falls. "Yeah. That."
Zoya sighs, shaking her head. "Despite being militarily disciplined, Zenith has a penchant for expressing his… opinions. Even and especially when they're neither needed nor warranted."
He stays quiet, taking the verbal lashing with dignity. I have to at least give him credit for that. "Fine. It doesn't matter. What Zenith thinks of me means nothing. Changes nothing. I'll thank him for his aid, but I won't expect any more of it, nor will I hope for it. In any case, I do want to thank all of you for the help in recuperating my failure."
"No worries, kid."
"I didn't do anything, but no problem!"
"Uh, yeah, what Henna said. Avast!"
"Of course, Nep."
Checking my diagnostic scans to find them green across the board, I let out a sigh. "I'd like to ask for advice on how to avoid ending up here again. You all know Cipher-3 far better than I do."
They look at each other to be the one to answer.
Reliable old Quentin is the one who delivers. "You'll need a partner out there. You can't go it alone."
"Seeing as Zenith and I are at odds and Henna is needed here, I fail to see how that's an option."
"DI–Drone Intelligence," he counters, sitting back in his chair and putting his boots up on the table. "Not unlike those anklebiters. Dumb little doohickeys, gadgets, and gizmos that run their gimmick automatically. They won't be any help figuring shit out, but they'll fight with you."
"That sounds suitable. Where can I find one of these drones?"
"I've got a… pretty pathetic one gathering dust around here somewhere. It's equipped with a taser gun, but that's about all it's good for."
"May I borrow it?"
"Shit, I'll give it to you. All yours. Lemme go find it."
As he hurries away, Louis grumbles, "I've never seen that man so helpful."
Zoya steals his now vacant seat. "Nep, I may be out of line, because I'm no expert, but you seem… under equipped. For a Pursuer. You might have some luck with the salvage sites we pointed you toward. I recommend that as your next priority."
I waver, considering her words. "You have an excellent point. I have another lead on the far end of the basin crater to the Northeast. But if the whole area is that infested, then you're right. I can't traverse it until I can safely fight my way through."
Louis yawns again, head back against his chair. "How's your Technomancy?"
"I have two Tech Charges at the moment. I apparently didn't think to use them until well into the fight. I have four ChargeTech installed. L1 Repair, Energize Knife, Overshield, and Speed Step. Then a few CleanTech options…"
"I'll check my supplies for other Tech Cylinders. We might have some modules or training sims on other abilities too. Can't hurt to take a look, right?"
"I'd appreciate that. I worry I'm asking too much of all of you."
"Some self awareness," Zenith mutters. "What a change."
Zoya gives him a sharp look, then turns to me. "You're really not inconveniencing us, Nep, so please don't worry about it. Most of this that we're offering to you is frankly useless to us. If you're able to put our unneeded resources to good use, then that's all the better. Like I said, this place is yours to utilize. The Regen Stations, the bunks, the tools, the workbenches, spare parts, all of it."
I slowly nod, withholding needless repetitions of my thanks. "Then I accept that offer in full. I'll make sure I'm ready before I go out again. I won't be making my failures your issue."
"Then we thank you for being responsible with yourself and with us."
Quentin hurries back over. "I got her up and running. Might need a regen before she goes anywhere, but here you go kid. Say hello to little Taser!"
A circular disc drone about the size of a big plate takes flight from his palm, a single glowing blue light in the front of its chassis slowly blinking as it hovers over me. It then starts blinking green.
"Looks like she's paired. I sent you the manual so you can see what kinda commands you can give her."
Louis remarks, "I'm in awe of the name. Taser. You named it the thing that it is. That's hardly even a name, is it?"
"Don't listen to the naysayers, Taser, you know how it goes."
The drone buzzes around my head, circling then hovering in front of me. The green light blinks with a friendly cadence.
I say, "Hello, Taser. It seems we'll be working together. I'm grateful to have you with me."
"Tweet-twoo!"
"Flying the nest," Quentin sighs. "They grow up so fast."
I manage to stand on my own, though Louis immediately comes to offer his help. With Taser hovering just over my shoulder, I feel… safer. More covered. Like I have a friend watching my back. It's nice. I'm going to make sure she's well cared for.
"Okay," I nod, and she nods back, dipping the front of her chassis. "Let's get you on the charger. Quentin, I have some questions for you–Namely, will you help me look at my gear? And Louis, can I trouble you to gather your Technomancy modules?"
"Course, kid. Come on by."
"I'll get right on it. You good?"
I nod, steady on my non-feet. "I'm okay now. Ready to make a fresh start."
"Cool." Louis grins. "I know I speak for all–most of us when I say we got a touch of fear thinking you were dead. It's good to have you back on your…" He looks down at the floor. "Toes."
Well, that's kind. I feel a little better. "Thanks. Glad to be."
Zoya adds, "He's right. We much prefer you intact and not bleeding. I'm just glad you're safe, Nep."
"Me too. Quentin, I'll meet you in the workshop first." As I pass, I indicate Louis. "And you shortly. Don't forget the Technomancy, savvy?"
"I won't," he laughs. "See you soon, me heartie."
I nod to Zoya and trade a wave with Henna, ignoring the glare I receive from Zenith as I depart the conference area. I'm not interested in petty conflict. If he has problems, they're his to deal with, not mine. Taser circles me again and lets out another tweet-twoo! It brings a smile to my face as she flies. I get the feeling she's pleased to be awake again.
"Let's get along, Taser," I say as I go. "I could use a loyal friend."
"Tweet-twoo!"
"Tweet-twoo."
"Tweet-twoo!"
"Friends indeed."