Vindril was gulping down a cold drink that looked like some power plant waste. At least that was the impression he was having by the blue colour it had. The taste however was nothing like it. To his crude palate and even cruder knowledge of drinks and what they were made with, it tasted like mint and dagoran fruits, a type of fruit that was cultivated on the nearby planet of Vannir. If he had to describe the taste, it was a strange mix of sweet and sour, with a faint note of herbs that somehow managed to fit strangely well.

It was mid-afternoon, the hottest and most trying hour of the day on Keelo Prime’s surface, and looking around the bar he was in, he quickly realized he wasn’t the only one trying to cool down from the torrid heat. Students, Instructors, janitors, other staff of the Academy’s compound. It seemed like almost everyone, at least on that abnormally hot day, had the same thinking. A thing that clearly pleased Sully by the way his face was all smiles.

Vindril had to wonder why that shrewd little bartender was smiling without a care in the world. The Empire wasn’t certainly a place where one could profit enormously by just filling out the space of a bar. If said activity was also located inside the confines of the renowned Academy, than the chances of that were even fewer. Or so he thought. It was clear that he was missing out something important or-

A deep, gravelly voice, interrupted his thinking and subsequent observations. A couple of stunning brown eyes met his own the moment he turned around to see who the hell had interrupted his own machinations. His hand immediately closed into a tight fist. “Well, well, well, look who I came across…so you’re still here? Good. That’s good.” said the bulky man. It didn’t even take a moment for Vindril to recognize who that was. The machinic he had fought almost a couple of months ago, when had had just stepped inside the Academy’s ground, was now in front of him.

What was he hoping to achieve by seeking him out? Did he want to have another bout with him? Was that it? But if that was the case, why the hell had he disappeared since last time? In the time he had spent at the Academy, not even once had that man sought him out. So why now? That didn’t make any sense. Oh, well. No point in thinking about such things. Better prepare for the fight ahead.

“Whoa!” said the man as he flashed his hands up in the air. “Calm down. I ain’t looking for a fight.”

“So what are looking for, exactly?”

“A chance to talk.”

“…About what?”

“Things.”

Vindril closed his eyes to keep calm. Such short interactions were making his nerves pop up in anger. Always did.

“Well, I’m waiting for a person. A person that will arrive at any minute now. And I cann-”

“It will only take a couple of minutes.”

He sighed. Now what? He tried refusing him, but that man didn’t want to hear any of it. Vindril could tell by the look that man had in his eyes. It was the look of a man that won’t back down from his objective no matter what he might face along the way. He was going to have a talk with him, one way or another.

“Ahhhh. Alright. Sit down. But I’m waiting for someone. You have until that person shows up.”

The mechanic grabbed the stool next to Vindril and sat down near him. Then, by taking out some hard-earned money that was both dirty with dust and a little bit of grease, he order a cold mug of beer. In less than second, Sully appeared and nimbly snatched the sum away, wincing loudly. “Ugh. Poor coins.” he said, staring at the coins like they were living beings that had been treated badly. “Is this the way to treat money? Seriously?”

“Oh, leave it. Try doing my work, a real man’s work, instead of…this. You’ll quickly discover how though that is.”

“AH!” said Sully.

It was clear to Vindril those two shared a pretty good friendship. “Then who’ll serve you your favourite drinks? Who will brew such a fantastic little thing?” he said, placing a mug of frosty beer down.

The mechanic laughed. “Little thing? This thing costs more than water.”

“But its infinitively better.”

“If you say so…” A smirk was plastered on his face.

“Ah! Asshole.”

As the half man quickly disappeared behind the counter, busy with preparing the other hundreds of orders, the mechanic smiled. Then, after taking a big mouthful of beer that made even Vindril desire a mug of it, he turned to look at him in the face.

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“I…I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

Shock made Vindril’s eyebrows shoot up. Wait-What? Did he really…. no. That wasn’t it. He must have misunderstood somehow. As if that rough looking man could have ever apologized for a simple fight. A fight that he had lost nonetheless! And yet, no matter how much he couldn’t believe it, that was exactly what was going on.

Vindril stared at him, trying to decide what to do. He was tempted to hit him once again, just to prove a point. But he decided to forgive him, and let bygones be bygones.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. It’s all in the past.” said Vindril, taking a small sip of the blue drink he had in front of him. “Still, I would have like an introduction. I mean, I don’t even know your name, you know?”

“Ah, yes. Shit. Of course. I’m Warbren. Chief mechanic in all the Academy.”

“And what is that you do?” he asked. Then, to lighten the mood, he added a joke. “Beside getting your ass kicked, I mean.”

“Ah Ah Ah. Very funny. You’re a fucking comedian.”

“Thanks.” he smirked. “I do try.”

“…Anyway, a mechanic’s job is…well, pretty straightforward. Basically, I tend, alongside my team, to the maintenance and repairs of all mechanical objects that are inside the Academy.”

“…And what is it that had made you so angry as to assault me?”

“It’s those stupid students’ fault!” he said slamming his right hand into the counter, causing a little bit of a commotion. “Those…stupid assholes have decided to steal the flight module from one of the training fighters. And it’s not even the first time! Can you believe it? It’s those guys’ fault if me and my team were forced to work like dogs for weeks, trying our best to fix the fighters before the Instructors would chew our asses out. Stupid fucking kids with too…” Those last words were barely more than a whisper.

“Why would they do th-”

“That’s the fuck I want to know! It’s not like they know how to use, or even have the need to, to own a flight module. What the fuck are they thinking? Are they-” he stopped, closing down his eyelids for a moment. Then he slowly inhaled, as if he needed to calm down. “…’know what? Fuck them. I didn’t come here to discuss them.”

“Yeah. You’ve already apologized.”

“That’s not enough.”

“I told you, it’s fine. You don’t need to do an-”

“No. I HAVE to do it. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t even repay a debt? I’ve wronged you. And I will repay that debt.”

Vindril sighed out loud, finishing in one go the rest of his drink. He needed the alcoholic rush in order to deal with that-that…he didn’t even know how to call him. He wanted to help him no matter what? Fine, dammit! If that was how it was going to be, then let it be so.

Placing the empty glass on the counter, he looked at him in the eyes. “Alright. Fuck it. You win. If you want to be even, I’ve got a job I need help with.”

“What kind?”

“Nothing illegal. I just need your talents. And perhaps guiding hand.” After a brief pause to wipe of the sweat that was running down his forehead, he continued. “I’m fixing a ship. Well, modifying is a better word. If you-”

Warbren’s eyes lit up, as if animated by some otherworldly power. “Ohh! What kind of ship?”

Vindril stopped for a moment, looking around to make sure nobody was paying attention to them. Fortunately, everybody in there looked way too focused on gulping down some cold drinks to pay them any mind.

“…WXR-OD28.”

Warbren, who was gulping down a mouthful of beer, almost chocked when he heard that name. He started coughing so much that Vindril had to pat him hard on the back to make him stop.

“A Silver-cough-Death?!”

“Yep. That one. Why?”

“I should be asking you that!” he said. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? Don’t answer. I mean, you must be.”

“Oh, c’mon! It’s just a ship.”

“No.” stated Warbren as a matter of fact. “No, no, no. That is not just a ship. Not in the least. I’m not exaggerating when I say she’s a unicorn. A deadly one at that. To fly on that is almost akin to suicide.”

Then he stopped for a second, as if he had just remembered something. “…Now that I think ‘bout it, where in the deep space have you even found one? Those models were either destroyed or hang up in some rich asshole’s private museum, forever decommissioned. You cannot simply buy one of those now days.”

Vindril was on the verge of telling him exactly how and when he had come into possession of such a relic from the past; but he stopped to think for a moment before deciding how to proceed. While it was true that, according to Yurian’s last report, there have been some problems at the hangar that had slowed down things, and an experienced helping hand like Warbren would have been a godsend, inviting a stranger into the den where shady deals weren’t disdained wasn’t exactly wise. Who knew how Warbren was going to react when exposed to such a thing. It could go both ways.

After weighing things a little more, he resigned himself. As dangerous as it was, he just couldn’t give up Warbren and his precious experience. Not if he wanted to have the ship finished on time. And with how things were starting to unfold, that was taking an increasingly importance than ever.

“…You said you owe me, yes?”

“That’s right.”

“Then help me with this project of mine. Well, not me in particular. Help the one that is currently managing all the work being done to the vessel. Do that, and I’ll find a way to help you out in whatever you need. You just need to ask me.”

Warbren looked like he was lost in deep thoughts. Then, after a short while, with a swift motion of his right arm, he gulped down the remaining half pint of beer. “…I’ll be damned.” he said wiping away the foam that had gotten entwined with his beard. “With all the work we have to carry out in this facility, I don’t even know if I even have time to sleep.”

“But it’s a Silver Death we’re talking about. It’s an opportunity more unique than rare. I don’t know if you’ll ever have a second chance if you turn it down now…”

He was trying to appeal to a mechanic’s passion. And by the way Warbren looked, it must have worked.

“Ahhhh.” he said rubbing his head in frustration. “Alright! Fine! I’ll see what me and my team can do. Just tell me where to go.”

“Do you know Mach I? The only shop who deals in spaceships on this rock of a planet?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there.”

“Ahhhh. Now I-”

A gasp heard all around them made them turn around. There, standing still without caring about the intense heat like they couldn’t feel it, there was a person cladded in armor. That person had finally arrived.