Robert coughed and waved a hand in front of his face, trying in vain to dispel the acrid smoke still billowing through the hangar. His eyes stung, watering from the caustic fumes, and he blinked to clear his vision.

  “Ace,” he said between hacking coughs. “Can you do something about this smoke? I can’t see a damn thing in here.”

  The AI’s lights pulsed in acknowledgment. “Of course. The atmospheric filters should be able to clear the smoke.”

  There was a brief pause, during which Robert swore he could almost hear the whir of gears turning in Ace’s synthetic mind. With an audible hiss of compressed air, the smoke dissipated.

  Robert watched in amazement as the thick, oily plumes were sucked into the void and whisked away through the refinery’s sophisticated filtration systems until only crisp, clean oxygen remained. Within seconds, the hangar had transformed from a smoke-choked hellscape into a well-lit, if somewhat battle-scarred, environment.

  He shook his head in bemusement. “You couldn’t have done that earlier and saved us both a lot of coughing fits?”

  “Our apologies,” Ace said, his tone taking on a hint of sheepishness, an impressive feat for a disembodied AI. “In the heat of the moment, we neglected to consider more proactive atmospheric management.”

  Robert snorted, though there was no real malice behind the sound. “Well, no use crying over spilled smoke, I suppose. At least we can see what we’re dealing with now.”

  He squinted against the harsh glare of the hangar’s overhead lights. He turned in a slow circle, surveying their surroundings with a critical eye. The scale of the destruction left in the wake of their battle with the malfunctioning robot became even more apparent without smoke - shattered worktables, scattered tools and components, and deep gouges scoring the ferrocrete floor.

  Even the large starships and spaceships within the hangar were damaged: the leftovers of the ships Robert and Ace used to modify their only fold-drive enabled transportation.

  “Ace,” Robert said, brow furrowing as realization dawned. “You sure we are alone in here?”

  “Our sensors are detecting no other mobile units within the hangar. The malfunctioning maintenance robot appears to have been an isolated incident.”

  Robert exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. “Well, that’s a relief.”

  Still, he couldn’t quite shake the nagging sense of unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Call it paranoia or hard-won experience, but he knew better than to let his guard down until they swept the area and confirmed there were no other nasty surprises lying in wait.

  He slung the EMP device over his shoulder and made his way further into the hangar. His footsteps echoed through the cavernous space, loud in the silence that had descended.

  Scattered throughout the area, he could distinguish the motionless shapes of other robots, a few in the midst of being constructed, while others rested in twisted piles amidst a maze of cables and machinery. Ace quickly confirmed that none of them were a threat, despite the wary looks.

  Robert eyed with distrust an ominous-looking spider-like robot, a similar model to the one he had disabled. “These things can’t just reactivate on their own somehow?”

  “Negative,” Ace said with certainty. “All units within the hangar are securely deactivated and disconnected from any external networks or power sources. They are essentially inert piles of scrap at this point.”

  Robert grunted, not convinced but willing to take the AI’s word for it. After all, Ace’s sensors were far more finely tuned than his own meat-based perceptions.

  Still, he found himself unable to relax as they continued their slow, sweeping exploration of the hangar - every shadowed alcove, every hull of a decrepit starship could hold the threat of some new, unforeseen danger.

  The hairs prickled on the back of his neck, his body tensed in anticipation of… what? More malfunctioning robots? Some other unseen menace lying in wait? Or was it the echoes of past traumas resurfacing, whispering dark reminders of his mistakes?

  He forced himself to focus on the here and now. Whatever had caused that maintenance robot to go crazy, they needed to know it. And if there were any other unwelcome surprises waiting for them, well, he would handle them the same way he always did - by putting one foot in front of the other, and doing what he could with what he had.

  Robert frowned, his gaze sweeping over the debris-strewn hangar one last time before returning to Ace’s hovering form. “All right, we’ve confirmed there aren’t any other active threats in here for the time being. That still leaves the question of what the hell caused that robot to go buggy?”

  He jerked his chin toward the crumpled heap of machinery that had nearly taken his head off mere minutes ago. “Any theories on that front?”

  “We may have a hypothesis,” Ace said, the pulsing lights at his core pulsing in a contemplative pattern. “Given the age of this facility and its prolonged period of abandonment, it’s possible the robot’s internal control systems suffered some form of degradation or corruption over time.”

  Robert’s brow furrowed. “You’re saying it just broke down? Malfunctioned on its own after sitting idle for who knows how long?”

  “Not a complete breakdown, per se. Even rudimentary artificial intelligence systems, such as these, are designed with a certain degree of self-preservation hard-wired, so to speak, into their base code. It’s possible this unit’s programming became unstable, convincing it that humans or any random item within the hangar represented a threat to be neutralized at any cost.”

  A muscle twitched in Robert’s jaw as he processed the explanation, a flicker of unease stirring in his gut. The idea of machines deciding humanity was the enemy and acting on their own corrupted logic to lash out didn’t sit easy. Thousands of robots that held the asteroid refinery together surrounded him.

  Robert forced himself to swallow back the bitter taste that had risen in his mouth. He gave a terse nod. “All right, I can buy that theory - for now, at least. If that’s the case, we’ll need to go through this whole damn place with a fine-toothed comb. Can’t afford any more ‘unstable’ robots jumping out at us.”

  “A prudent precaution. We will begin a thorough scan of all systems to detect any potential corruption or anomalies that could indicate other malfunctioning units.”

  Robert nodded again, his expression hardening. “You do that. And if you do find anything, you let me know right away, no arguments this time. If there’s even a chance one of these things could go psycho on us, I want to be ready to put it down.”

  Ace hesitated, as if weighing the merits of protesting Robert’s blunt solution. In the end, however, the AI swayed in silent acknowledgment.

  “Understood. We will keep you apprised should any issues arise during the analysis.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Robert exhaled a harsh breath and gave the hangar one final sweeping glance before turning on his heel and heading for his ship. His footsteps rang out against the ferrocrete floor, hollow and echoing in the space.

  As he walked, his grip tightened around the handle of the EMP cannon, knuckles whitened. The familiar weight of the weapon in his hands was enough to provide a small measure of comfort, a reminder that, no matter what other dark secrets this derelict facility might hide, he would be ready.

  Robert strode through the hangar main alley, Ace trailing close behind, and his shoulders tensed at the sight that greeted them.

  Their ship, the sleek craft they had modified almost beyond recognition of the original ship’s design, had not escaped the malfunctioning robot’s rampage unscathed. Deep gouges marred the once-pristine hull, scoring through the outer plating like jagged claw marks. Glittering shards of fractured composite lay scattered across the deck mixed with smears of hydraulic fluid and scorched circuitry.

  “Aw, hell,” Robert said under his breath, lips pressing into a tight line as he surveyed the damage.

  He quickened his pace as he circled the battered vessel, sharp eyes cataloging every dent, every sparking control panel, every ruptured line. By the time he’d completed his circuit, a muscle was twitching in his clenched jaw.

  “Please tell me the fold-drive’s still intact,” he said with a growl, shooting Ace a sidelong glance. “Because if that pile of bolts managed to knock out our means of getting off this rock, I swear I’ll find a way to bring it back so I can dismantle it piece by piece, while it watches from every angle imaginable.”

  The AI bobbed in a placating gesture, lights pulsing. “The fold-drive appears undamaged, though the same cannot be said for many of our other critical systems.”

  Robert snorted, kicking aside a twisted chunk of hull plating with rather more force than necessary. “Yeah, no kidding. This tub’s been torn apart, we’re lucky if the damn atmospheric recyclers are still online at this point.”

  He grimaced as he ran a hand through his unruly mop of hair, letting out a frustrated breath. “Okay, new plan. We get this thing stabilized enough for a standard flight, then head out to find a new lead.”

  His gaze swept over the battered craft once more, eyes narrowing. “We’ll need a name for it while we’re at it. Can’t very well keep calling it ‘the ship’, not after all the character it’s taken on.”

  A wry smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth then, taking on a mischievous edge. “How about the Acus’Rube? Looks a bit like one of those scrappy little birds back on Mool after taking this beating.”

  The odd name earned him a quizzical pulse of light from Ace. “The Acus’Rube? An interesting choice, though we must admit we are unfamiliar with the reference.”

  Robert shrugged, already turning his attention back to assessing the ship’s - no, the Acus’Rube’s - systems and prioritizing what needed repairing first. “Trust me, you’d get it if you saw one of the little bastards in person. Tough as gnarra-hide and as ornery. I think it’s fitting, all things considered.” He snorted and shook his head, unable to suppress the hint of grudging admiration that crept into his tone. “Got to hand it to her, though, took one hell of a beating and she’s still holding together. The Acus’Rube it is.”

  With a decisive nod, as if sealing the name’s approval, Robert turned and started gathering up what remained of their repair tools and diagnostic equipment. There would be time enough to introduce Ace to the finer points of Mool’s varied fauna later.

  They had work to do if they wanted to get their christened ship spaceworthy again. Robert allowed the familiar routine of assessing damage and prioritizing repairs to push aside his lingering frustration, at least for the moment.

  One thing was for certain: the malfunctioning robot may have taken a chunk out of their hull, but it would take a lot more than some scratches and dents to put the Acus’Rube out of commission.

  Robert scowled as he crouched beside the battered hull of the Acus’Rube, running his fingers over one of the deep gouges left by the malfunctioning maintenance robot’s rampage. The jagged furrow cut clean through the outer plating, exposing a tangle of ruptured conduits and sparking circuitry beneath.

  “Well, this is fantastic,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable as he prodded at the exposed wiring. A sharp crackle of electricity made him jerk his hand back with a reflexive curse. “Fold-drive’s intact, sure, but good luck getting us anywhere without the nav computer, and the stabilizers shot to hell. Great, great. Flying blind, as usual.”

  He stood there in brooding silence for a long moment, fingers absently tracing the outline of a scorched control panel as his mind raced. At last, blowing out a harsh breath, he straightened and began gathering up his tools.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” he said, more to himself than Ace, as he worked. “We get this bucket of scrap flightworthy enough to start looking for the transponders. Need to find some way to get those ‘off grid’. We needed those even before that damned robot did this. The nav computer and stabilizers… We should be able to patch together something passable from the scrap here.”

  Pausing, he shot the AI a pointed look. “And by ‘off the grid,’ I mean no official spaceports, no registered facilities, hell, not even a podunk little outpost with so much as a customs kiosk. You getting my drift here?”

  The lights at Ace’s core pulsed in understanding. “You wish to avoid any potential encounters with United Confederation authorities while we work to restore the ship’s full operational capabilities.”

  “Bingo,” Robert confirmed with a curt nod, already moving to reroute auxiliary power to the Acus’Rube’s failing stabilizers. “Can’t exactly go waltzing onto some UC-controlled dirtball looking for replacement parts when we’re... how did you so delicately put it? ‘Operating outside of established regulations?’” He snorted again, though this time there was a bitter edge to the sound. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

  They lapsed into silence as he worked with a focused intensity, brow furrowed in concentration as he jury-rigged a series of makeshift power conduits. Beside him, Ace hovered in silent observation, lights blinking in an almost contemplative pattern.

  His expression hardened, mouth settling into a grim line. “I don’t need to tell you how restricted stuff like nav computers and transponders are. We don’t want every bounty hunter and UC goon within a hundred light-years showing up on our doorstep.”

  “Indeed,” Ace said, his smooth tones taking on a somber note. “Attempting to purchase such regulated equipment through unofficial channels would be an extremely risky proposition.”

  Robert barked out a harsh laugh at that, shoulders shaking with bitter mirth. “Risky? Now there’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.” He shook his head and regarded the AI for a long, considering moment, gaze searching; Ace was weighing something in that synthetic mind of his. At last, he decided and squared his shoulders as he met Ace’s pulsing lights with an intensity that bordered on fever.

  “Look, we both know what we signed up for when we decided to go after the Confederation’s dirty little sentient trafficking ring,” he said, voice low but carrying a resonant force that brooked no argument. “We knew it wouldn’t be easy, that we’d have to get our hands dirty, maybe even cross a few lines most folks wouldn’t.”

  Pausing, he wet his lips, gaze never wavering from Ace’s luminous form. “But I’ll be damned if I let something as small as a few missing parts stop us now, not when we’re this close to blowing the whole rotten operation wide open. Not when we know what they’re doing and are apparently the only ones willing to do anything about it.”

  The muscle in his jaw twitched, tendons standing out in taut cords as he ground his teeth. “So you tell me, Ace, are you willing to do what it takes? Even if it means acquiring those restricted components through less than reputable means?”

  The AI considered, lights pulsing in a slow, thoughtful cadence. When he spoke, his words carried a solemn finality.

  “You are correct, we have ventured too far down this path to turn back now. If obtaining the necessary materials through extralegal channels is what it takes to further our investigation and bring this heinous trafficking ring to justice… ” He paused, what Robert thought was to gather himself. “...then it is a risk we must take.”

  Robert's shoulders drooped, a brief glimpse of relief passing over his face before he regained his impassive demeanor. Nodding once, jaw set in determination, he turned and began sorting through their battered tool kit with renewed purpose.

  “All right then, first thing’s first, we need to get the Acus’Rube stable, so we start making a list of what we need - nav computers, transponder codes, fuel cells, all the things.” His lips curved into a wolfish grin, eyes glinting with a dangerous light. “And then we go shopping, by any means necessary.”

  Pausing, he glanced back over his shoulder at Ace, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose those vast databanks of yours might contain the shipping schedules for any Confederation supply convoys passing through this sector?”

  The AI’s lights pulsed in silent affirmation - and like that, the die was cast.

  The United Confederation’s reign of unchecked corruption and depravity would end, or Robert Fannec would go down swinging in the attempt.