"Are you sure this will work?" Rune's voice carried a tone of disbelief.
Ash shrugged, his expression helpless. "I don’t know. My dad used to handle this stuff—I only ever helped a few times. Back then, we used coarse worm blood. But where are we supposed to find any of that now? I figured we might as well test if the Iron-scaled Reptile's blood works. If it does, we’re in luck; if not, we’ll be digging through mud for days."
Pouring the Iron-scaled Reptile’s blood into a makeshift container, Ash added a series of unidentified powders. The heat from a small thermal furnace below caused the liquid to bubble and froth. He stirred the mixture with a metal rod, watching as it turned from red to a glowing blue hue. The eerie light reflected off his face, giving him the unsettling appearance of a dark sorcerer concocting a cursed potion.
Even Rune, as bold as he was, found his optical sensors flickering nervously.
Acquiring the Iron-scaled Reptile’s scales had been a triumph, meeting the structural requirements for repairing their mech. Yet a new challenge emerged—how to bond the biological material to the metallic mech's body. With no specialised tools, even the most resourceful minds would struggle.
Ash’s ingenuity, however, shone through. He recalled an adhesive formula his father had invented to attach spines to Winnie’s armour. Though designed for a completely different purpose, the substance had proven so durable that Winnie’s spines had never fallen off, even after countless impacts. This gave Ash hope, albeit with a dose of anxiety. The formula originally relied on coarse worm blood, which he now substituted with the Iron-scaled Reptile’s blood. The outcome was uncertain.
Ash carefully stirred the bubbling concoction. When a sweet aroma wafted into the air, he knew it was ready. The smell was unexpectedly appetising, and for a fleeting moment, Ash considered tasting it. Shaking off the absurd thought, he muttered under his breath, "Impulse is the devil..."
He dipped a metal plate into the adhesive, applied a generous layer, and quickly pressed it against another plate. Tossing the bonded plates into a nearby water basin, he watched as the blue liquid squeezed out from between them and instantly turned transparent upon contact with water.
Retrieving the plates, Ash wiped them dry and handed them to Rune.
"That’s it?" Rune asked, scepticism lacing his words.
"No idea," Ash replied with a shrug. "That’s why you’re testing it."
Rune inspected the plates, attempting to separate them. "Seems solid enough, but we’re dealing with biological material and metal here."
"Already thought of that!" Ash grinned, holding up one of the Iron-scaled Reptile’s smaller scales.
Stolen story; please report.
The experiment was a success—or as close to one as they could hope for in their current conditions.
With confidence growing, Ash picked up one of the largest scales, generously coated it with the adhesive, and pressed it firmly over the gaping hole in their mech’s cockpit. The scale adhered instantly, covering the breach completely. For added security, Ash layered on more scales.
"Your craftsmanship is abysmal," Rune commented bluntly.
Ash glanced at the patchwork interior, resembling a hastily repaired quilt. "Maybe so, but who’s to say this isn’t some avant-garde form of art? Should we reinforce the exterior too?"
"No," Rune replied. "Without a vacuum pump, sealing both sides could create dangerous pressure during a hyperspace jump. It might kill us."
"Got it." Ash nodded, understanding the risk. "What about the leftover scales?" He gestured at the pile of unused Iron-scaled Reptile scales. "Feels like a waste to toss them, but we can’t exactly carry them around."
"I still have room in my sub-space compartment," Rune offered.
As twilight descended on Garbage Planet 12, the two sat atop a mound of discarded scrap near Ash’s home. Behind them loomed a pulse relay station, its towering silhouette outlined by the orange glow of the setting star. The soft light lent an uncharacteristic warmth to the otherwise desolate landscape.
Neither spoke, savouring the rare moment of tranquillity.
As the last ray of sunlight vanished below the horizon, Rune broke the silence. "The energy cores are fully recharged. It’s time to move."
Ash nodded solemnly. Though the most critical repair was complete, numerous tasks still awaited them.
Inside the mech's cockpit, Ash found himself surrounded by energy cores stacked high enough to restrict his movement. He donned his helmet, activating the visual display that provided a clear view of the outside world.
A wave of reluctance washed over him. This junk-strewn wasteland had been his home for over a decade, shared with his father. Every ridge and valley of the garbage mountains was etched into his memory.
Taking a deep breath, Ash muttered, "In the end, all I’m doing is surviving."
"Rune," he said hoarsely, "let’s go."
Rune’s mech lifted off, hovering momentarily before rocketing skyward.
Through the cockpit, Ash watched the relay station shrink until it became indistinguishable from the surrounding debris. He stared in a daze, the place that had defined his life growing ever smaller until it disappeared entirely.
Rune accelerated, the mech’s outer layer crackling with plasma as it tore through the planet’s atmosphere. Sparks flew, the product of friction and velocity. In mere moments, they escaped the gravitational pull, emerging into the boundless expanse of space.
Ash gazed at the vast, glittering cosmos: starfields glimmering against a canvas of black, ethereal nebulae glowing in shades of crimson and azure. It was breathtaking, yet his mind remained anchored elsewhere.
"Activate the pilot protection system," Rune instructed. "It’s the third green switch under your right-hand console."
"Got it," Ash replied, pressing the button.
A translucent barrier emerged, encasing him in a protective cocoon. Curious, Ash poked at the shield. It felt elastic, like a gel-like substance.
"Don’t touch it," Rune cautioned. "We’re accelerating further. Brace yourself."
"Accelerating?" Ash asked, puzzled.
"We need to reach hyperspace velocity for a jump. The chances of success are only 41%, theoretically speaking," Rune stated calmly.
Ash leaned back, exhaling. "I trust you. Not like I have any other choice."
Rune's engines roared to life, propelling them into the dark void ahead.
What lay in store for them beyond this escape?