Arkon

ARKON

M y body moved before my mind caught up. I lunged for Samira, wrapping her in my arms and shielding her as dust and debris rained down from above.

“Are you injured?” I asked, scanning her for injuries.

Samira coughed, waving away the dust. “I’m fine. What happened?”

I looked up at the ceiling, noting the new fissure that had formed. “Structural collapse. This place is even less stable than we thought.”

Samira’s eyes widened as she took in the damage. “The equipment-”

“Is secondary,” I cut her off. “Your safety comes first.”

I released her reluctantly and surveyed the lab. Most of the debris had fallen away from the workstations, but several pieces of equipment lay toppled or cracked.

“We need to stabilize this area,” I said, already moving to clear the larger chunks of rubble. “Can you salvage what you can of the equipment? Your samples are still safe in your pack, right?”

Samira nodded, hurrying to right an overturned microscope. “Yes, they’re secure. But without proper equipment...”

I paused in my work, meeting her gaze. “We’ll figure it out. First, we make sure this place doesn’t come down on our heads.”

As I cleared debris, a plan formed. “I’m going to reinforce the structure. There should be materials around the outpost we can use.”

“How?” Samira asked, carefully stowing a cracked datapad.

“Drones,” I replied. “If I can cobble together some micro-drones, they can help us shore up weak points in the ceiling and walls.”

Samira’s brow furrowed. “That’s... ambitious.”

I allowed myself a small smile. “Says the woman synthesizing a counteragent to a galaxy-wide mind control conspiracy.”

That earned me a laugh, the sound warming me more than it should have. “Fair point. What do you need?”

“I’m going to scout the outpost, see what I can scavenge. You focus on getting your lab functional again. I won’t be far.”

I hesitated before leaving, an irrational part of me not wanting to let Samira out of my sight. But sentiment wouldn’t keep us alive. I pushed down the feeling and headed out into the unstable corridors.

The outpost creaked and groaned around me as I navigated through the ruins. Every sense was on high alert, ready to detect the slightest tremor that might signal another collapse. I found a storage area filled with broken equipment and began sorting through the wreckage.

Circuit boards, power cells, small antigrav units – piece by piece, I gathered what I needed. It took multiple trips, my arms laden with components each time I returned to the lab. Samira looked up from her work, a smudge of dirt on her cheek that I fought the urge to wipe away.

“Any luck?” she asked.

I nodded, setting down my latest haul. “Enough to get started. How are things here?”

Samira sighed, gesturing to her makeshift workspace. “I’ve got the basics, but it’s far from ideal. Still, I can begin preliminary work while you build your drones.”

I set up my own workstation nearby, arranging tools and components. As I began to assemble the first micro-drone, Samira paused in her work, watching me with interest. “That’s... impressive. Where did you learn to do this?”

I kept my focus on the intricate circuitry before me. “You pick up skills in my line of work. Adaptability is survival.”

We worked in companionable silence for a while, the quiet broken only by the soft sounds of our respective tasks.

I forced myself to concentrate on the drone, my movements precise and deliberate. Every so often, I’d glance up, checking Samira’s progress and offering what encouragement I could.

“How’s it coming?” I asked during one such moment.

Samira ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident in the gesture. “Slowly. But I’m making progress. You?”

I held up the partially assembled drone. “Getting there. Just need to solve a small issue with the propulsion system.”

As if to mock us, the drone’s antigrav unit sputtered and died. I growled in frustration, the sound rumbling deep in my chest.

Samira looked up, concern etched on her features. “What’s wrong?”

I explained the problem, my words clipped as I fought to keep my temper in check.

Samira leaned closer, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Can you explain it again? Every step?”

I sighed, tamping down my frustration. Patience wasn’t my strong suit, but for her, I’d try. “Alright. The antigrav unit connects to the power source here,” I pointed to a small coupling. “It draws energy through this circuit board, which regulates the flow. The propulsion system then-”

As I walked her through each component, something clicked. The answer had been staring me in the face all along. I’d wired the regulator backwards, causing a feedback loop that overloaded the system.

“I’ll be damned,” I muttered, already reaching for my tools.

“What is it?” Samira asked, leaning in even closer. Her scent filled my nostrils, threatening to derail my thoughts entirely.

I shook my head, refocusing. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

She blinked, clearly confused. “Me? But I don’t know the first thing about mechanical engineering.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at Samira’s confusion. “You may not know mechanical engineering, but you know how to untangle thoughts. Sometimes all it takes is explaining a problem to someone else to see the solution.”

Samira’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh! Like when I’m stuck on a botanical problem and I talk it through with... well, usually just myself.”

“Exactly,” I said, my hands already moving to correct the wiring. “You’ve got a knack for asking the right questions, even if you don’t realize it.”

Samira’s lips curved into a small smile. “Well, I’m glad my ignorance could be of use.”

I made the adjustments, my heart quickening as I activated the drone. For a breathless moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft whir, it rose into the air.

A rare, genuine smile spread across my face. “It works.”

Samira’s answering grin was radiant. “We did it!”

“Now we just need to make a few dozen more.” I returned to my workstation, the success of the first drone fueling my determination.

Samira resumed her own tasks, her movements precise and focused. The space between us thrummed with unspoken intensity, a current I struggled to ignore.

As I assembled more drones, my hands moved with practiced efficiency. Each completed unit brought us closer to our goal, yet I found my attention repeatedly drawn to Samira. The way she bit her lower lip in concentration, the graceful curve of her neck as she bent over her work - these small details threatened to derail my focus.

“I’m going to do another check on the lab’s integrity,” I said, standing, finally acknowledging my inability to concentrate. “You should rest.”

Samira shook her head stubbornly. “I’m fine. I want to keep working.”

I frowned, noting the dark circles under her eyes. “Samira-”

“I said I’m fine, ,” she snapped, then immediately softened. “I’m sorry. I just... I need to do this.”

I understood her drive all too well. With a nod, I left her to her work and began my inspection.

I worked my way through the unstable corridors, every creak and groan of the structure setting my nerves on edge. I cataloged each weak point, each potential disaster waiting to happen. The eastern wall needed immediate attention - a spiderweb of cracks threatened to give way at any moment. The ceiling in the main corridor sagged dangerously, held up by little more than stubborn determination.

As I rounded the corner back towards our makeshift lab, something caught my eye. A faint glimmer, barely visible in the dim emergency lighting. I approached cautiously, my hand instinctively moving to my weapon.

A faint seam, barely visible beneath years of grime and decay.

Intrigued, I moved closer, running my hand along the wall. There - a slight depression. I applied pressure, and with a groan of protesting metal, a hidden panel slid open.

“Samira,” I called, quietly. “You need to see this.”

She appeared at my side, her earlier irritation forgotten. “What is it?”

I gestured to the dark opening before us. “A hidden room. Stand back while I check if it’s safe.”

Ignoring her protests, I entered first. The air was stale, undisturbed for years. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I took in the room’s contents.

“By the stars,” Samira breathed, peering around me. “, do you know what this means?”