In the dimly lit conference room, tension hung like a palpable force. “We must share the same maintenance man.” Sir John Rawlins said in exasperation. “None of the lights work properly in our conference rooms either.” The room, with its polished walls and sleek design, reflected the seriousness of the conversation. Rawlins, head of SID, stood before Dr. Hoyt, the head of the R&D Department, a holographic display hovering between them. The pale blue glow of the hologram illuminated their faces, casting shadows that mirrored the gravity of their discussion.

Rawlins cleared his throat, his voice steady but carrying the weight of his report. "We've completed our background check on Kowal Zeidis Kovacs," he began, his tone professional though tinged with intrigue. "He's an interesting case. Kovacs was the sole survivor of a jump-ship accident in the Capricorn Belt. Three miners saved him, he’s named after them, they were running a skimmer at the time. After the accident, he was made a ward of the state."

Sarah Hoyt, a sharp-eyed woman with gray streaks at her temples, leaned slightly forward, focusing entirely on Rawlins' words. "Go on."

Rawlins continued, "He’s been through seven foster homes. Shy, unassuming, doesn’t like crowds or people much. It seems he was injured in one of those homes—abused. The injury left him with a limp, and since he was a ward of the state, he never received the necessary surgery. To complicate matters, he was born with an undiagnosed condition that makes it difficult for him to establish a neural link to equipment."

Hoyt nodded, her expression thoughtful. "And his academic background?"

“In his early years, he wasn’t distinguished, but he was never in a distinguishing program. Bottom of the barrel schools, but he maintained good grades overall with a focus on the sciences.” Rawlins said from memory.

"His college expenses are covered by a fund established after his recovery, provided by the white star line the ship operator," Rawlins explained. "Despite his challenges, he’s remarkably intelligent. His work on mecha design is, I’m told, impressive, especially given the obstacles he’s faced. His designs show a deep understanding of structural integrity and efficiency, even though he lacks formal experience."

Sarah Hoyt’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing there was more to the story. "But?"

Sir John Rawlins hesitated, careful with his words. "From a security standpoint, there’s no immediate concern. However, given his background, he could be easily influenced or pressured. His experiences have shaped him into a somewhat isolated, but that isolation also fuels his focus on his work. We believe he’s driven by a need to prove himself, perhaps as a way to compensate for his past."

Hoyt tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the table. "So, he's a loner with something to prove. That could be dangerous in the wrong hands—or beneficial in the right ones."

"Exactly," Rawlins agreed. "He’s a wild card, but one with considerable potential."

Sarah gestured toward the holographic display, which flickered to life and showed a video clip of Kovacs deep in concentration. The young man was working on his new redesign of the Fusilier, and his movements were precise and methodical as he adjusted components and fine-tuned the virtual model.

“This is from Iron Reaper. We adjusted the feeds to get this. He’s not using a standard feed or a pod,” Dr Hoyt said. “This appears to be a new rework of an existing design.”

"So that’s the kid, huh?" Rawlins muttered, leaning forward as she scrutinized the footage. His voice had a hint of admiration mixed with a calculating edge.

"He’s got a good eye. You can see it in the way he handles those redesigns. He’s not just following protocol—he’s innovating, pushing boundaries."

Rawlins nodded. "It’s clear that he’s not just going through the motions. He’s deeply invested in his work, perhaps more than many of our seasoned professionals."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Hoyt paused the video, her gaze lingering on the frozen image of Kovacs. "We need to keep a close eye on him. There’s potential here—a potential we can harness if we handle it right."

Rawlins gave a curt nod, understanding the implications. "What’s our next move?"

"Let’s bring him in," Hoyt decided, her tone decisive. "We’ll give him access to some of our more advanced projects and see what he does with them. But keep it subtle—we don’t want to spook him. Frame it as an opportunity, a reward for his hard work. And make sure we monitor him closely. If he’s as good as he seems, we may have found a new asset."

“No, not yet. Things are stirring with him,” John said. “There's interest in him right now that could pan out for us.”

“Us?” Hoyt asked.

"Right now, it's classified," Sir John Rawlins stated. What I can say is that it could turn into an unregulated mess handled the wrong way. “

"Then we’ll deal with it," Sarah Hoyt replied, calm and resolute. "But from what I’ve seen, I think this Kovacs kid might surprise us."

Rawlins nodded, his mission clear. “I’m sure he will; I want to see how he handles things and if he can extricate himself from what he's in.”

Sir John Rawlins leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady as he measured Sarah Hoyt’s reaction. The room seemed to hum with the tension between them, a clash of two powerful minds trying to gauge the other’s next move.

“I’ve seen his type before,” Rawlins continued, his voice calm but firm. “Kovacs is resourceful, but he’s also vulnerable. We push him too hard, too fast, and he might crumble under the pressure. But if we let him find his way out of whatever he’s tangled up in, we’ll see what he’s truly made of.”

Hoyt’s eyes narrowed, considering his words. “And what exactly is he tangled up in, Sir John? You mentioned ‘interests’—what are we dealing with here?”

Rawlins hesitated for a brief moment, choosing his words carefully. “I can’t go into details, Sarah. Not yet. But let’s say there are parties with a vested interest in Kovacs, and not all are playing by the rules. It’s a delicate situation. One wrong move, and it could blow up in our faces.”

“Sounds like you’re walking a tightrope,” Hoyt remarked, her tone neutral but with a hint of curiosity. “If he’s involved in something beyond his control, we should be prepared to step in.”

“We will, if necessary,” Rawlins assured her. “But I want to see how he handles this on his own first. If he navigates the situation and becomes stronger, he’ll be even more valuable to us. If not, we’ll have a better understanding of his limits.”

Hoyt leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she studied the paused image of Kovacs on the holographic display. “You’re gambling on a kid who’s already in over his head, John.”

“Sometimes the best way to test someone’s mettle is to see how they handle the fire,” Rawlins replied. “Kovacs has potential, but potential alone isn’t enough. He must prove that he can survive in this world, where the stakes are high and the players are ruthless.”

“And if he can’t?” Hoyt asked, her voice edged with concern.

“Then we cut our losses and move on,” Rawlins said bluntly. “But I have a feeling that won’t be necessary. Kovacs might surprise us, like I said.”

Sarah Hoyt fell silent momentarily, weighing the risks and rewards in her mind. Finally, she nodded. “Alright, John. We’ll do it your way. But if things spiral out of control, I want to be informed immediately. We can’t afford to let this slip through our fingers.”

“Agreed,” Rawlins said, standing up and smoothing his jacket. “I’ll keep you updated. In the meantime, let’s give Kovacs the space he needs. Let’s see how he handles the pressure and what he does next.”

Hoyt watched him as he prepared to leave, her mind racing with the possibilities. “And when he does pull through, we’ll have to decide where to place him. He could be an asset to R&D or perhaps somewhere else within the organization.”

Rawlins paused at the door, glancing back at Hoyt. “That’s something we’ll cross when we get there. For now, let’s focus on keeping him on the radar without spooking him. We don’t want to tip our hand too early.”

Hoyt nodded, her expression thoughtful. “You’re right. But if he proves himself, we’ll need to act quickly. There’s no telling how many others might be watching him.”

Rawlins gave a curt nod, understanding the weight of her words. “We’ll be ready.”

As he left the room, Hoyt returned to the holographic image of Kovacs. The kid was an enigma, but one thing was clear—he was more than just another student struggling to make a name for himself. There was something different about him, something that could be harnessed if handled correctly.

But as she looked into the young man’s eyes on the screen, Hoyt couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all playing a dangerous game. One where the stakes were high and the outcome uncertain. And in this game, the kid was the wildcard—one that could make or break them all.

“You better be worth it, kid. I’m going all in.”