The morning after successfully capturing Ashen Valley, sunlight filtered through the yellowish dust haze, casting a glow over the camp. The air still carried the faint smell of last night’s battle smoke. The Rebirth Squad was busy clearing the battlefield and organizing the seized supplies. At the edge of the camp sat a colonial army armored vehicle, its hull pockmarked with dents and bullet scars, the hood half-open like a wounded beast. Beneath the peeling green paint, the dull metal surface was exposed. This was a “Type 72 Rhino”—a sturdy transport vehicle designed for harsh terrain. Despite its battered appearance, it was a significant prize.

  Jake Riley circled the vehicle, his rough palm running along its body, his eyes gleaming with the excitement a mechanic feels when facing a new challenge. He held his polished wrench in one hand, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth, his faded work clothes already smeared with fresh oil stains, even though the day had just begun.

  “What do you think?” Ethan asked as he passed by, carrying a pile of captured weapons. “Worth fixing?”

  Jake grinned, tapping the armored side with his wrench. “This girl? Definitely worth it. Fix her up, and we’ll have a mobile bunker—perfect for our next raid.”

  Not far off, Nick Torres approached, his posture as rigid as a soldier’s even in casual moments. Unlike Jake’s scruffy appearance, Nick’s clothes remained neat and orderly despite the dusty environment. He held a portable diagnostic device—a standard military tool he’d kept from his days in the colonial army.

  “I can help,” Nick said calmly. “I fixed dozens of these back in the colonial army.”

  Jake raised an eyebrow, sizing up the former soldier. Though they had worked together during the capture operation, they hadn’t truly bonded yet. Jake respected Nick’s tactical mind but found his rigidity amusing; Nick admired Jake’s skills but thought his methods were too chaotic.

  “Well, well,” Jake said with a laugh, patting the hood. “The soldier boy’s getting his hands dirty. I thought you guys just requisitioned new toys when the old ones broke.”

  Nick’s expression remained neutral, but a spark of competition flickered in his eyes. “We maintained our own gear. Federation Corp’s mechanics were too slow and too expensive.”

  A small crowd began to gather—mostly miners and refugees, curious about the armored vehicle and the two men inspecting it. Among them were a few children, escapees from Federation labor camps who had found refuge with the Rebirth Company. Their eyes widened in awe; they had never been allowed so close to military equipment before.

  Jake noticed the audience and winked at the kids. “Hey, soldier boy, how about we make this interesting?” He spun his wrench with a flourish. “I bet I can get my side of the engine running before you finish your fancy diagnostics.”

  Nick considered the challenge for a moment, then gave a curt nod. “Terms?”

  “Loser takes a week of night shifts,” Jake proposed, already rolling up his sleeves.

  “Deal,” Nick said, plugging his diagnostic device into the vehicle’s interface. “But we both know a systematic assessment beats blind guessing any day.”

  Jake laughed, his voice echoing through the camp. “We’ll see about that, textbook man!”

  The contest began. The two men each took a side of the engine bay, their starkly different approaches immediately apparent. Jake dove in hands-first, his fingers quickly coated in grease as he dismantled burnt-out parts and corroded components. He worked with an intuitive rhythm, humming an old miner’s ballad, occasionally tapping metal parts with his wrench to test their integrity.

  “Hear that?” he called out to the kids. “That hollow sound means it’s busted. But this one’s good—solid as a rock!” He demonstrated by tapping different components, improvising a percussion performance that made the children giggle.

  Meanwhile, Nick worked methodically, following standard military repair protocols. His diagnostic device emitted soft beeps as it analyzed the vehicle’s systems. He checked the readings, nodding to himself, then carefully removed components in the exact order specified by the device’s embedded repair manual.

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  “Look at this,” he explained to a curious teen who had edged closer. “Diagnose first, then repair with precision. Efficiency is key.” His movements were economical and precise, each tool chosen with purpose, every screw and bolt carefully set aside, unlike Jake’s habit of tossing them haphazardly.

  As the morning wore on, their friendly competition heated up.

  Jake deliberately banged his wrench against the engine block, producing a series of clangs and rattles. “Sweet music!” he shouted over the noise. “Beats the beeping of your little gadget any day. Sounds like a startled rat!”

  Nick stayed focused but couldn’t resist a retort. “Banging around won’t fix a burnt-out power connector. My ‘little gadget’ just identified six critical faults your tapping method missed.”

  An older miner watching the spectacle laughed. “Five credits on the wrench!” he shouted, sparking a wave of impromptu bets among the crowd.

  “Ten on the soldier!” another called back.

  The kids picked sides too, some mimicking Jake’s exaggerated movements while others stood as stiffly as Nick. Even Tara paused her weapon maintenance to watch, a rare half-smile on her face as she placed a bet on “whichever one shuts up first.”

  An hour into the contest, both men had made progress, but in entirely different ways. Jake’s side of the engine bay looked like it had been hit by a mechanical hurricane, with parts scattered in what seemed like random piles. Yet somehow, he knew exactly where everything was, grabbing components without looking and reassembling sections at a startling pace.

  In contrast, Nick’s workspace was orderly—components neatly arranged in sequence, each cleaned and inspected before being reinstalled or replaced. His movements were methodical yet swift, years of training evident in his efficiency.

  “Almost done!” Jake announced, wiping sweat from his brow with a greasy forearm, leaving a dark smear across his face. “Ready to admit defeat, soldier boy?”

  Nick glanced over at the chaos of Jake’s workspace, raising an eyebrow. “Quality matters more than speed, Riley.”

  Jake grinned through his sweat-streaked face. “Yeah, yeah. You soldiers always say that when you’re losing.”

  The final stretch of the contest grew tense, both men working frantically but in their own styles. Jake moved like a whirlwind, connecting wires and tightening bolts with the casual confidence of someone who’d spent a lifetime improvising repairs. Nick executed his final steps with precision, double-checking connections and ensuring everything was aligned to spec.

  “Done!” they shouted almost simultaneously, stepping back from the engine bay.

  Jake wiped his hands on his already filthy work clothes and jumped into the driver’s seat, a triumphant look on his face. “Ladies and gentlemen, prepare to witness a master at work!” He turned the ignition key with a dramatic flourish.

  The engine coughed, sputtered, let out a concerning bang, and then fell completely silent.

  The crowd’s excitement deflated like a punctured balloon. Jake frowned, trying again with the same result. “Come on, baby, don’t embarrass me now,” he muttered, almost affectionately patting the dashboard.

  Nick crossed his arms, looking unimpressed. “As I said, diagnostics matter. Your ignition sequence is off.”

  Jake hopped out, kicking the vehicle in frustration. “This damn thing’s just too stubborn! It’s basically fixed!”

  “Basically fixed is still broken,” Nick replied, a hint of smugness in his voice.

  Just as the two were about to restart their debate, Lila strolled by, her arms full of scavenged electronics. She stopped, eyeing the scene with a critical gaze.

  “Are you two serious?” she asked, her voice dripping with teenage disdain. She adjusted her pile of parts, freeing one hand to point at the vehicle. “You’ve both been wasting time. The main power relay isn’t even connected.”

  The two men turned to where she pointed. Sure enough, there was a disconnected power connector that both had somehow overlooked.

  “I was just about to get to that,” Jake mumbled unconvincingly.

  “It was on my final checklist,” Nick insisted, though his ears turned slightly red.

  Lila rolled her eyes dramatically. “Sure it was.” She dumped her scavenged parts on the ground, pulling a small homemade device from her pocket. “Step aside—let a professional work.”

  The two stepped back as Lila half-crawled under the vehicle, hooking her device to an interface they hadn’t even noticed. She pressed a series of buttons, and after a few seconds of electronic humming, she climbed out, brushing off the dust and nodding toward the driver’s seat.

  “Now try it, if you two ‘experts’ are done showing off.”

  Jake climbed back in with a skeptical look, turning the key. The engine roared to life, its deep rumble steady and strong. The kids cheered, and the watching adults exchanged impressed looks.

  Jake and Nick stared at each other for a long moment, then burst into laughter—Jake’s loud and unrestrained, Nick’s more reserved but genuine.

  “Looks like we both lost that bet,” Jake admitted, hopping down and offering Nick a grease-stained hand. “Next time, how about we team up?”

  Nick hesitated only a moment before taking the offered hand, seemingly unbothered by the grease transfer. “Definitely. Your instincts… aren’t entirely without merit.”

  “And your by-the-book approach isn’t completely useless,” Jake conceded with a wink.

  Lila was already gathering her scavenged parts, snorting. “If you two are done with your bromance show, some of us have actual work to do.”

  As she walked off, Jake threw an arm around Nick’s shoulder. “She’s right, you know? We got schooled by a kid.”

  Nick’s usually stern expression softened. “Maybe I can learn a thing or two from your… unconventional methods.”

  “And maybe I could use a bit of your discipline,” Jake admitted. “But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it ‘til I’m in my grave.”

  Little did they know, this friendship would be so short-lived.