The Obsolete shuddered, a low groan echoing through its metallic guts. The escape from Kepler-186f’s undercity had been thrilling, but it left the ship battered and bruised, its hyperdrive sputtering like a disgruntled space-dragon.
"Looks like we need more than a quick patch-up this time, Drake” Flint announced, inspecting a particularly nasty scorch mark on the engine. Drake, the ship's AI, responded with a quiet, "Affirmative, Mr. Maddox. Significant structural damage to the hyperdrive."
Captain Zero, still sporting a rather lopsided toupee, rubbed his aching head. "So, where do we go to get this hunk of junk fixed?"
Vee Korr, ever the optimist, tapped a finger against the console. "I've got it! According to the data Jax – before he, you know, betrayed us – mentioned a brilliant mechanic on Aethel. A real whiz-kid. Apparently, she can fix anything."
"Aethel?" Griz Mallory raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sounds like a planet made entirely of cheese puffs."
"It's a planet known for its advanced technology and eccentric inhabitants” Vee corrected, displaying her usual infectious enthusiasm. "Think steampunk meets psychedelic rave. And it's perfectly aligned for a hyperjump." She beamed, already charting a course. Her navigational skills, usually overlooked amid the crew's more flamboyant personalities, were undeniably impressive. This was a key strength, silently acknowledged even by the Captain.
The journey to Aethel was uneventful, aside from a near-collision with a rogue asteroid that Captain Zero narrowly avoided (mostly thanks to Vee's quick thinking and Flint's surprisingly effective improvised maneuvering thrusters). They arrived at Aethel, a vibrant planet swirling with hues of turquoise and violet, its atmosphere crackling with an almost palpable energy.
Landing the Obsolete on a surprisingly smooth, perfectly circular landing pad, they found themselves in a bustling spaceport, a chaotic symphony of whirring gears, hissing steam, and alien languages. Buildings were a patchwork of mismatched styles – Victorian turrets juxtaposed with futuristic skyscrapers, adorned with shimmering neon signs in languages nobody understood.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Zee, the mechanic, lived in a workshop perched precariously on the edge of a cliff overlooking the spaceport. Her workshop was a chaotic explosion of tools, spare parts, and half-finished projects, a testament to her boundless creativity. Zee herself was a spectacle – tall and lanky, with bright orange skin, three fingers on each hand, and a shock of purple hair that defied gravity. She greeted them with a mischievous grin and a wrench held aloft like a conductor's baton.
"So, you're the Obsolete crew” she chirped, her voice a surprisingly melodic counterpoint to the surrounding clang of metal. "Heard you were in a bit of a pickle. Let's have a look-see!"
While Zee expertly diagnosed the hyperdrive's problems – a surprisingly common issue, she explained, resulting from a faulty Xylos Core-powered energy regulator – Flint and Captain Zero engaged in another of their trademark arguments.
"We should've stayed on Kepler-186f and finished the job” Flint insisted, tightening a bolt with unnecessary force. "We could have gotten the Xylos Core. Zenith will be there by now!"
"We barely escaped with our lives, Flint!" Captain Zero retorted. "Running headlong into Zenith’s clutches would have been suicide!" His toupee threatened to escape again, quivering precariously on his head.
Their conflicting leadership styles – Flint’s impulsive, get-it-done approach versus Zero’s cautious, strategic one – created a persistent undercurrent of tension, constantly bubbling to the surface. Luna, ever practical, mediated between them, while Mira quietly observed, occasionally offering a sardonic comment under her breath. Griz, meanwhile, found a surprisingly comfortable spot amongst Zee's tools, quietly admiring her work.
Zee, oblivious to their spat, expertly rewired the damaged components, her movements fluid and precise. As she worked, she regaled them with stories of her past adventures, of battling space slugs and outsmarting intergalactic tax collectors. Her tales, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the rhythmic clang of her tools, were a welcome distraction from their internal conflict.
Hours later, the hyperdrive hummed back to life, a powerful surge of energy coursing through the Obsolete. Zee gave the ship a satisfied tap. "There you go! Good as new. Except for that scorch mark… that's a collector's item now."
Their repairs complete, and the tensions slightly eased by Zee's captivating stories and skilled handiwork, the crew prepared for their next step. The Xylos Core awaited, and Zenith’s shadow loomed large. Their journey was far from over, and their internal struggles promised to be as perilous as any external threat. The pursuit of the Xylos Core and the clash between Captain Zero and Flint's leadership styles promised a treacherous path ahead. The crew of the Obsolete braced themselves for the next chapter.
every day. To become a part of this novel, follow and give ratings. Feedback comments about the novel is appreciated.
Patreon. Plus, don’t miss out on my other novels by visiting my page.
