REVIVING HALAT
Clorita scanned HALAT’s frame, her expression grim. “She’s completely drained. We need to recharge her.”
Zog checked the power banks Luma had brought earlier, his heart sinking. “They’re empty.”
BOB’s voice chimed in. “Without an external power source, revival is impossible.”
Luma padded over, her movements unsteady from exertion. She stared at HALAT momentarily, then leapt onto the slab, curling herself against HALAT’s side. Clorita frowned. “What’s she doing?”
Luma’s tail flicked, and a faint glow surrounded her body as she connected to HALAT’s port. The light grew brighter, and Luma’s systems visibly dimmed. BOB’s voice softened. “She’s transferring her remaining power.”
Zog stepped forward, alarmed. “Luma, stop! You’ll—”
The felixanoid let out a soft purr, her glowing eyes dimming to slits as HALAT’s systems hummed faintly to life. Clorita checked HALAT’s diagnostics, relief flooding her expression. “She’s recharging... slowly, but it’s working.”
Luma’s body slumped, her systems shutting down as HALAT’s eyes flickered open. “Mother?” HALAT’s voice was weak but functional.
Zog scooped Luma into his arms, his movements gentle. “She saved you, Spark. Don’t waste it.”
HALAT’s eyes glowed brighter as her systems stabilised. She looked at Zog, then at Clorita. “We need to leave. Now.”
With HALAT revived enough to walk, the group fought their way out of the building, their movements swift and coordinated. Although still regaining her strength, HALAT was formidable, her covert weaponry decimating any resistance.
Outside the city, the group found the service shuttle, now relocated closer to the town’s outskirts thanks to BOB’s guidance. The shuttle’s engines hummed to life as they boarded, HALAT helping Clorita secure the doors while Zog carefully placed Luma in a cushioned seat.
As they lifted off, Zog glanced back at the city, his expression a mix of relief and sorrow. “She better be okay, BOB.”
BOB’s voice, though steady, carried a hint of emotion. “I’ll do everything I can, Captain.”
Back aboard the Duj, HALAT immediately began assisting BOB in creating a specialised repair station for Luma. Clorita touched Zog’s shoulder as he watched the process in silence.
“She’ll be fine,” Clorita said softly. “She’s tougher than she looks.”
Zog nodded, his gaze lingering on the Felixanoid. “She’d better be. Without her... we wouldn’t have made it this far.”
The crew took a moment to recharge their exhausted systems as well.
After a serious nap, the crew gathered in the Duj’s lounge, the faint hum of the ship’s systems filling the silence. Zog paced nervously, his servos emitting a faint whine with each step. Clorita leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while HALAT sat with her usual rigid posture, her eyes glowing faintly. Nestled in a makeshift bed, Luma remained silent, still recovering from her heroic sacrifice.
BOB’s voice broke the tension. “I have completed an analysis of the current situation. Returning to the surface would expose us to significant risk, including potential detection and attack by Unifier forces. My recommendation: immediate departure.”
Zog let out a relieved sigh. “See? Even BOB agrees. We’ve done enough. We got out operational, we saved Spark, and we’re not exactly in top shape ourselves. Let’s leave while we still can.”
HALAT’s glowing eyes narrowed. “Leave? Do you want to abandon those farmers to the Unifiers? After they helped us?”
“They helped us because they were curious!” Zog shot back, his voice rising. “They didn’t exactly sign up for a war.”
HALAT stood, her movements sharp and deliberate. “They didn’t sign up for this, but neither did we. And yet here we are, escaping while those people are left to fend for themselves. Do you think the Unifiers will stop after capturing us? They’ll punish the farmers just for helping us.”
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Zog hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get it, alright? I don’t like it either, but we’re barely holding together here. Spark, you were running on fumes, Clorita and I were tied up like livestock, and Luma—” He gestured toward the recovering felixanoid. “Luma almost didn’t make it. You want to risk all of us for revenge?”
“Not revenge,” HALAT said coldly. “Justice.”
Clorita stepped forward, her voice steady but conflicted. “HALAT’s got a point. The Unifiers don’t strike me as the forgiving type. If we leave now, we’re leaving those people to face the consequences of our escape.”
“But we don’t owe them anything,” Zog argued. “They barely knew who we were. We’re strangers. Outsiders.”
Clorita tilted her head, her tone laced with scepticism. “And yet, they didn’t starve us. They let us recharge. And they tried to keep the Unifiers from taking us. That has to count for something.”
Zog gestured to the window, where Vantelos loomed large. “And what if we go back and get caught again? This time we might not escape.”
Clorita shrugged. “Or we could use our tech to help them defend themselves. Tip the scales a little.”
BOB’s voice cut in. “May I interject? While the risks are considerable, there is merit to Clorita’s argument. Assisting the frontiersmen could destabilise Unifier forces, reducing the likelihood of their expansion and creating potential allies.”
Zog threw up his hands. “Of course, you’d say that. You love big, dangerous ideas. But we’re explorers, not revolutionaries! We’re here to report back, not rewrite the course of history.”
“Correction, Captain,” BOB replied smoothly. “You are here to explore and report. I am here to ensure your survival. And staying here jeopardises that primary objective.”
HALAT crossed her arms. “It’s not about logic or safety. It’s about doing what’s right. If we don’t stand up to them, who will?”
Zog sighed, running a hand down his face. “Clorita, you’ve been quiet. What do you think?”
Clorita hesitated, glancing between HALAT and Zog. “Honestly? I don’t know. HALAT’s right—we shouldn’t just abandon them. But BOB’s analysis makes sense, and you’re right too, Zog. We’re not exactly a well-oiled war machine.”
Zog raised an eyebrow. “That’s not helpful.”
“Maybe not,” Clorita admitted. “But I’ll say this: if we return, we do it smart. No heroics, no going in guns blazing. We help them defend their land, give them the tools to fight, and then we leave. No sticking around.”
Zog groaned. “You’re both going to get me scrapped, right?”
HALAT’s voice softened slightly. “They need us, Captain. Even if it’s just this once.”
Zog looked at Luma, still curled up and oblivious to the debate. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained grim. “Fine. But the first sign of trouble, we’re out. No arguments.”
Clorita grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Captain.”
HALAT inclined her head. “Agreed.”
BOB’s voice chimed in. “Destination set: frontier homestead. Estimated arrival: eight minutes. Captain, I suggest preparing your nerves.”
The service shuttle touched down in a secluded ravine, its engines humming softly as BOB powered it down. Zog glanced out the window, his expression tight with worry. The homestead lay just over the ridge, its simple structures vulnerable against the might of the Unifiers.
HALAT stood by the hatch, her posture tense. “We’ll need to approach carefully. If they spot the shuttle, it’s over.”
Clorita nodded, already inspecting the landscape for cover. “We can hoof it to the homestead from here. A couple of kilometres, tops.”
Zog groaned. “Great. Hiking. Just what I signed up for.”
“Hold up,” Clorita said, her smirk fading as she returned to the group. “Let’s double and triple-check our energy levels before we head out. We’re not taking any chances.”
The crew paused, each running a quick diagnostic. Zog grumbled as he powered up his interface, and Clorita grabbed a small pack from the supplies. “Extra power banks,” she said, holding them up with a raised eyebrow. “Just in case anyone decides to blow their reserves.”
“Fine,” Zog muttered, his tone begrudging. “But I’m still not calling this cardio.”
Clorita smirked as they started forward. “Think of it as survival training, Captain. Keeps the circuits in shape.”
The homestead’s central building became their war room. Its rough-hewn wooden walls starkly contrasted with the advanced holographic map BOB projected onto the table. Zog, Clorita, HALAT, and the homestead’s leader, an older Vantelian named Karvix, gathered around it.
“This is what we’re up against,” BOB said, highlighting a convoy of red dots moving toward the settlement. “The Unifier forces are approximately 24 hours away. Current estimates place their numbers at 40, heavily armed with projectile weapons and rudimentary explosives.”
Karvix frowned, his antennae twitching. “And we have... this.” He gestured toward a pile of crude weapons: pitchforks, slings, and a single rusty cannon.
Zog raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s... quaint.”
Clorita rolled her eyes. “What he means is we’ll need to get creative.”