Chapter 7
Fifty-two minutes. That was the window between Kael’s arrival at the workshop and the arrival of the Gamma-7 inspection team.
He slammed the manual deadbolt home, the sound of iron on iron vibrating through the cramped, grease-stained walls. On the workbench, the Ignis prototype module sat in pieces—a jagged, high-stakes puzzle of high-tension conduits, a scavenged phased-array sub-processor, and the black-market power regulator that had cost him a blank favor to the Broker.
To the academy, this was contraband. To Kael, it was the only thing keeping him from the scrap-processing line.
He pulled his haptic gauntlet tight, the leather biting into his wrist. The synchronization required for the Ignis module wasn't just difficult; it was a feat of mechanical intuition reserved for elite graduates. He had to pulse a command sequence through thirty-seven separate junction points simultaneously. A micro-second of lag on any one of them would trigger a thermal runaway, melting the processor into useless slag.
Kael closed his eyes, visualizing the network. He pushed his awareness into the frame’s logic core, feeling the cold, dead resistance of the hardware. He reached for the first junction—and the system bucked. The feedback hit him like a physical blow, throwing him back against the workbench. He gasped, clutching his chest as the proximity alarm for the inspection team chirped. They were minutes away.
He didn't have time for perfection. He needed a shortcut. He pulled his terminal to the desk and opened the encrypted comm-channel.
"You're cutting it close, Kael," the Broker’s voice crackled, devoid of warmth.
"I need a shroud," Kael said, his voice tight. "An active electronic dampener to mask the module’s radiation signature. Now."
"That’s a high-tier request for a low-tier favor," the Broker replied. "But I like the way you gamble. Check your secure locker in the ventilation shaft. It’s there, but you’ll need to hard-wire the interface bypass yourself. And Kael? You owe me. You’ll be sabotaging the lead striker’s mech in the upcoming regional trial. That’s the price."
The connection severed. Kael scrambled to the vent, tearing the grate away to find a sleek, black-market dampening shroud. He had twelve minutes. His hands moved in a blur, stripping wires and rerouting the power regulator’s output through the shroud’s masking field. The final locking bolt clicked into place just as the workshop door shuddered under a heavy, hydraulic impact.
Valerius stood in the threshold, his polished Enforcer boots clicking against the grating. He didn't look at Kael; he looked at the workbench, his gaze sweeping the room like a thermal scanner.
"The Gamma-7 inspection is mandatory, Kael," Valerius said, his voice a cold rasp. "And your manifest is currently… incomplete."
"The manifest is being updated," Kael said, keeping his hands buried in his pockets to hide the tremors of adrenaline.
Valerius stepped forward, his eyes locking onto the Ignis frame. "Let’s see if that frame is as hollow as your excuses." He dragged the chassis from its berth into the center of the room, directly under the high-intensity overhead floodlights. It was a power move, a calculated attempt to force Kael to intervene and expose his hand.
As Valerius ran a diagnostic scanner over the frame, Kael watched the dampener’s light blink a steady, deceptive green. But as the Enforcer’s scanner pulsed, Kael noticed a flicker in the frame’s internal diagnostic log—an encrypted sub-file that hadn't been there before. He tapped into it through his terminal, his breath hitching. It wasn't just battle data; it was a schematic.
He’d secured the parts, but the assembly required a skill even veteran mechanics lacked. Without it, his mech was just scrap. Yet, as he stared at the data, he realized the flaw in the academy's design was the key to everything. The hidden battle data log revealed not just a prototype's capabilities, but a critical flaw in the academy's most celebrated mech design.