The following days went by in routine, repairs, constant adjustments, and some inexplicable extra hours, leaving little free time to spend on my channel.
And so, almost without realizing it, three weeks passed since our arrival at the expansion zone. Who would’ve thought? Our work is almost complete: we’ve mapped nearly 90% of the quadrants, much faster than scheduled. This new mapping system is truly efficient; now more probes come back than we send out each day.
“Remember to rotate it to the right,” a voice yells at me.
“Okay!” I reply as I move a huge tube and pull it out of the port.
“Good, the drone is now fully charged,” the engineer on the control platform responds.
“Finally, drone number 68 is ready,” I exclaim, stretching my arms.
“Hey, watch your limbs. Remember you’re wearing the MechFrame,” my coworker yells.
“Sorry, I got careless,” I say as I retract my arms and take the mecha to recharge.
I reach the station, which lights up green when it detects the mecha is in position. I press the button, and the MechFrame opens so I can step out of it.
“Wow, that was a tough day, huh, buddy?” I say to the machine, which stands silently.
MechFrames are exoskeleton-type suits created to grant the user enhanced abilities: increased strength, speed, and mobility, along with durable defensive armor and, in certain models, offensive tools.
Of course, all of this varies depending on the model and its purpose. They don’t reach the power level of full armor suits, but they’re used in situations where deploying massive machines would be unnecessary or excessive, such as in mines, mechanical workshops, or, in the case of military models, in places where using a hammer would be considered overkill and something more precise and less destructive is required; something like a chisel.
The model I use is the Handyman V3, a classic in repair and engineering environments. This equipment stands out for its strength, durability, and precision. It was designed to be a reliable partner during long workdays without discomforting the user, and they succeeded; sometimes I even forget I’m wearing it.
This model isn’t meant for combat. In fact, it doesn’t even have armor. That gives it a peculiar appearance: a metallic skeleton without any covering. Its two enormous arms, mounted above the operator near their head, stand out, as do its powerful legs, capable of supporting great weight with balance. The center of the suit has a comfortable seat for maneuvering during long work shifts.
The most notable feature is its arm control system, connected to gloves that precisely replicate the user’s movements. The tactile feedback is so realistic it feels as if you were lifting objects with your own hands.
“Hey, Rob, want to watch the drone launch?” another mechanic shouts at me from the upper control station.
“Sure, I’m coming. I spent the whole afternoon preparing this baby; I at least want to see it take its first steps.”
I head up to the probe control room. Several technicians are focused at their stations, monitoring the drones.
“You got here just in time, the recharge is starting,” a colleague tells me, pointing at the central projection.
On the screen, the drone we just prepared is being lifted by a gigantic mechanical arm, which places it on a central lift that quickly carries it to the top of the Seeker, where the mini stellar catapult is located. There, another arm inserts it into the open hatch of the catapult.
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Moments later, the rings light up and spin rapidly until they form the stellar tunnel. The catapult begins to glow as it charges energy… until, with a blinding flash, it launches the drone toward its destination.
“Wow, it really is a show, even with a small catapult like this one,” I say, impressed.
“It sure is. Shift over already?” another mechanic asks.
“Yeah, another day of work well done. Now I’m going to rest a bit before the boss finds me for some surprise task,” I reply as I head out.
“Ha, ha, ha, yeah, better hurry. Leave the rest to us and don’t get into more trouble unless you want more overtime,” my colleague says as he waves me off.
No one around here knows how to appreciate top-tier investigative work.
After that projection, I had an exhausting week. Now more than ever, I value sleep.
Before resting, I stop by the cafeteria to grab something to eat. I take the chance to chat with Alex, whom I find returning from his patrol. Apparently, his squad hasn’t had any interesting reports either. We talk a bit about my last projection, the one I sent him a few days ago. He liked it. Turns out he’s also a fan of the mysteries of space… unlike all those people lacking vision.
Now that I think about it, I still have a pending revenge against them. After a pleasant conversation, I say goodbye and head to my pod.
My next shift is in ten hours, so before sleeping I work a bit on my next projection and check the comments on the previous one. Finally, I lie down to rest.
***
I find myself staring at the ceiling of the training room.
I realize I’m lying on the floor and quickly sit up; my body still aches a bit.
I look around and spot the figure I was searching for: he’s sitting in a corner, humming a song while drinking from a bottle of liquor.
“So you finally woke up. I thought I’d have to wait for you all day,” the figure says to me. “Want some?” the instructor offers, extending the bottle toward me.
“Forget the “want some?”, old man,” I shout at him. “What the hell was that?”
“If you mean the liquor, it’s a rare bottle of Starfire, reserve of 9125. Now, if you mean the training, don’t feel bad; warriors much stronger than you have fallen to me in even less time. Lasting four moves already counts as a great achievement. Ha ha ha!” the instructor laughs loudly.
“Don’t give me that; you kicked me!”
That sudden impact in my abdomen was, indeed, a kick from the instructor, which sent me flying backward and then he finished me off with a downward strike of his sword.
“And what’s with that attitude? Are you going to give that excuse on the battlefield, when an enemy kicks you, spits on you, or shoots you while you’re only carrying a sword? The enemy will never be kind to you, nor will they respect you in any way. In the end, the only thing that matters is who’s left alive,” he tells me, setting the bottle aside. His words might make sense, but they still irritate me. “Be thankful this was without armors. Unlike the human body, armors always have some surprise ready for the worst moments: a third arm, sharp blades that pop out from anywhere, or even the chest cannon. That one’s a classic,” the instructor scolds.
I have no way to respond, so I just frown.
“When you go out there, you’ll have to face completely unexpected challenges. Life-or-death situations, one after another. And there are three things that will determine whether you survive or not.”
I fold my arms as he continues speaking, still listening. He gestures with his hand for emphasis, first showing three fingers, then lowering two, leaving only one raised.
“The first is your training. Training will never fail you. Even someone without talent can improve if they train enough. Maybe you won’t reach the monstrously gifted prodigies, but it will give you the necessary foundation to defend yourself from anything.” He raises one of his fingers. “The second is flexibility. This universe is insane. If you can’t adapt to the unexpected blows it throws at you, you’ll end up on the ground… like right now. You must be clever, ready for the unthinkable. Cultivate a versatile mindset that lets you respond to blows with an even stronger counter.”
“And the third?” I ask him.
“The third is…”
***
A call on my portable device yanks me violently out of the land of dreams. Clumsily, I try to reach it until I’m forced to sit up to grab it.
“What’s going on?” I answer, still half-asleep.
“Just pick up already, idiot! Get to the hangar quickly; we need to prep the armors.” The voice of the department chief hurries me. “Something big has happened.”
