The piercing wail of alarms shattered the early morning peace on Prescott. Jackie jolted awake in the makeshift barracks, her hand instinctively reaching for the sidearm on her bedside table. She heard the muffled hum of distant explosions, and outside, she saw black smoke rising in columns from the south.

Her comm unit crackled to life, cutting through the chaos. “Sector four’s water plant is down!” a frantic voice reported. “We’ve got fires spreading near the transport hub in Sector two. Multiple casualties reported. Enemy sightings confirmed—this isn’t random.”

Jackie’s heart sank, but her body moved on autopilot. She strapped on her gear, each piece clicking into place with the precision of muscle memory. She darted out of the barracks into the cool dawn air, which was already thick with tension and the acrid stench of smoke.

Her squad was waiting near the staging area, their mechs powered down but prepped for rapid deployment. The Goblins loomed like vigilant sentinels, their sleek frames standing ready for action. Rina was already securing her helmet, Jace adjusted his tactical vest, and Quinn was checking the mech’s systems. Their faces were pale but resolute.

Jackie stopped just short of the group. “Status report!” she barked.

Rina snapped to attention. “Sergeant, all systems are green. The Goblins are armed and combat-ready.”

Jackie nodded, her mind racing. The comm in her ear buzzed again, this time with the commanding officer’s voice, calm but urgent.

“All units, this is Command. Enemy remnants are staging coordinated attacks on infrastructure in Sectors two, three, and four. First responders are engaged but overwhelmed. Primary objectives are containment and civilian evacuation. Secondary objective: neutralize enemy forces. Reinforcements are en route, but you’ll be on your own for at least thirty minutes. Deploy immediately.”

“Copy that, Command,” Jackie replied. “Sector 4’s water plant is priority one for us. We’re moving out now.”

Her squad exchanged tense glances as Jackie turned to them. “It’s coordinated,” she said, her voice steady despite the churn in her gut. “We’re looking at remnants of the enemy faction. They’re trying to destabilize us, but we won’t let them. Rina, take Jace and Quinn to secure the transport hub in Sector 2. Civilians are the priority—get them out of harm’s way and hold the line until reinforcements arrive.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Rina replied, her voice clipped but determined.

Jackie’s gaze swept over her team. “Keep your comms open. Call for backup at the first sign of trouble. I’ll take the lead in containment at Sector 4. Stay sharp out there.”

The squad scattered to their mechs, and Jackie jogged toward her own Goblin, her thoughts racing. Each mech gleamed under the dim light of the rising sun, the insignia of Prescott’s militia painted boldly on their chassis. She scaled the Goblin’s frame with practiced ease and slid into the cockpit, the familiar hum of the machine coming to life beneath her.

“Systems check,” she murmured, her fingers flying over the console. Lights blinked green across the board, and the mech’s HUD flared to life, feeding her a stream of tactical data. The comm crackled as Command issued another update.

“Sector 4 reports enemy squads advancing on civilian areas. Evacuation in progress, but resistance is light. Expect a firefight.”

Jackie inhaled deeply, forcing her mind to focus. “Understood, Command. Advancing now.”

The Goblin’s servos whined as it stepped forward, the ground vibrating slightly under its weight. Around her, the noise of the base faded, replaced by the rhythmic thrum of the mech’s motion. Her HUD displayed the route to Sector 4, overlaid with markers indicating likely enemy positions.

As she advanced, her comms buzzed with chatter from the squad. “Sergeant, this is Rina. We’re en route to Sector 2. Civilians are moving toward the evac point, but the enemy’s using sniper fire to slow them down.”

“Stay low and use the debris for cover,” Jackie instructed. “Engage only if you can secure the area.”

“Copy that.”

The Goblin’s sensors picked up movement ahead, and Jackie slowed her approach. Smoke and flames dominated the horizon, casting eerie shadows across the industrial district. The water plant loomed large, its once-pristine exterior now riddled with scorch marks and rubble. Heat signatures flickered on her display, confirming enemy presence.

Her comm lit up again, this time from Command. “Sector four evac almost complete. Your objective is to hold until reinforcements arrive. Multiple hostiles confirmed in the vicinity. Be advised: they’re armed with anti-mech weaponry.”

Jackie’s jaw tightened as her fingers gripped the controls. “Acknowledged, Command. Engaging now.”

With a final breath to steady herself, she activated the Goblin’s targeting systems and surged forward, the mech’s lasers humming to life. The time for hesitation was over—Prescott was under attack, and she wasn’t about to let it fall.

***

In the workshop, Kovacs was deep in his work, oblivious to the chaos outside. The hum of tools and the soft glow of his datapad provided a comforting cocoon, insulating him from the uncertainties pressing down on Prescott. But Jackie’s words from the previous night lingered in his mind: You’re the only one who might be able to do something.

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He activated the system interface with a practiced motion, and the familiar grid of options and schematics unfolded before him, the intricate web of knowledge both tantalizing and daunting. He paused, staring at the interface as though it could somehow sense his hesitation.

“I need something,” he murmured, half to himself, half to the system. “A way to make this right.”

The system’s interface flickered, and a soft, neutral voice filled the air—a byproduct of the system’s latest update. “Define parameters. What is it you seek?”

Kovacs hesitated, surprised by the voice. He hadn’t interacted with this part of the system before, but the weight of Jackie’s plea spurred him on. “Prosthetics,” he said aloud. “Advanced designs. Functional, durable, intuitive—something that can give people their lives back.”

“Searching available schematics. Results will be filtered by points available.”

The grid shifted, presenting a selection of prosthetic designs ranging from basic limb replacements to highly advanced systems. Kovacs scanned the options, his gaze falling on one labeled Neural Adaptive Prosthetics: Mark I. He tapped it, and a detailed schematic appeared, showcasing a sleek design that mimicked natural human motion.

“It’s not enough,” he said, shaking his head. “I need something more modular—something we can produce here on Prescott, with our resources.”

“Clarify objective: modular systems applicable to local manufacturing constraints. Adjusting search.”

New options populated the screen, their designs more aligned with the principles he’d studied in mechs. One in particular caught his eye—a joint system that integrated lightweight alloys with servo-actuators. He selected it, the interface displaying a rotating 3D model of the design.

“This could work,” he muttered, sketching notes on his datapad. He adapted the design to mimic a mech’s joint system, ensuring strength and flexibility without overcomplicating the manufacturing process. But as he tested the model against simulated scenarios, flaws began to emerge: lack of precision, limited power efficiency, and restricted motion range.

“Damn it,” he muttered, leaning back in frustration.

“Problem identified: neural interface technology may resolve design limitations. Recommendation: unlock advanced neural control schematics.”

The suggestion caught him off guard. “How many points?” he asked, glancing at his remaining balance.

“Unlock cost: 500 points.”

Kovacs winced. It was a steep price, but the potential payoff outweighed the risk. Gritting his teeth, he confirmed the purchase. The interface shimmered as the system granted him access to a new suite of technologies.

Time blurred as Kovacs dove into the schematics, his mind racing to integrate the new neural interface with the prosthetic’s framework. He refined the servo-actuators, designed a compact power source, and added redundant safety features to ensure reliability. His workshop became a hive of activity as he printed prototypes, tested configurations, and adjusted parameters.

Finally, hours later, he stared at the completed design on his screen. It was sleek, efficient, and elegant—a culmination of everything he’d learned. The name came to him unbidden: Phoenix Limbs. They weren’t just prosthetics; they were a promise. A promise of rebirth for the people of Prescott who had lost so much.

The system’s voice chimed softly. “Design completed. Upload for production?”

“Not yet,” Kovacs replied. “I need to test it first.”

Before he could begin preparations, a notification pinged on his datapad. It was a flagged file from the CID mission’s data cache—a segment he hadn’t reviewed before. Curious, he opened it. Schematics and encrypted coordinates flooded his screen, interspersed with geological surveys.

“What the…” he muttered, scrolling through the data.

The files outlined deposits of the rare elements found on Prescott, with precise locations marked across the colony. Kovacs’s breath caught as he realized many of the flagged sites were near the recent attack zones.

“They’re still after it,” he whispered. The attacks weren’t random—they were targeted. The enemy wasn’t done with Prescott; they were systematically reclaiming sites rich in the rare materials.

Kovacs leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. The attacks, the schematics, the rare elements—it was all connected. He needed to act, but first, he had to prepare. His gaze fell back on the Phoenix Limbs design.

“First things first,” he said, his resolve hardening. “One piece at a time.”

The system’s voice hummed softly, almost encouragingly. “Acknowledged. Awaiting next command.”

***

Jackie’s squad returned to the barracks late that evening, exhausted and singed from firefighting efforts. She lingered outside, her thoughts a swirling storm. Civilians had berated her, calling her squad failures for not preventing the attacks. For the first time, doubt crept into her mind. Was she truly protecting her people, or merely delaying their inevitable collapse?

She found Kovacs in the workshop, hunched over his workstation. The glow of his datapad cast sharp shadows on his face, and for a moment, Jackie hesitated. Then she stepped forward.

“Long day?” Kovacs asked without looking up.

“You could say that,” she replied, her voice heavier than she intended.

Kovacs put down his tools and turned to her. “What happened?”

Jackie exhaled sharply, her fingers curling into fists. “Coordinated attacks. Infrastructure down, people dead. And everyone’s looking at me like I could’ve stopped it.” She shook her head, her voice cracking. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I can’t protect them.”

“You’re not a miracle worker, Jackie,” Kovacs said gently. “You’re doing what you can.”

“It’s not enough,” she snapped, then immediately softened. “Sorry. I’m just… It’s hard, Kovacs. Seeing this place fall apart while I’m supposed to hold it together. And my family…” She hesitated, then gestured to his datapad. “What’s that?”

Kovacs turned the screen toward her, revealing the Phoenix Limbs design.

“Prosthetics?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

“Not just any prosthetics,” Kovacs said, his voice tinged with quiet pride. “These are inspired by the mechs. Modular, durable, and designed to give people a fighting chance. Your brother doesn’t have to be stuck in that pod, Jackie. I can build this for him.”

Jackie stared at the screen, hope flickering in her eyes for the first time in weeks. “You really think it’ll work?”

“I don’t think,” Kovacs said firmly. “I know. Bring him here, and I’ll make it happen.”

For the first time that day, Jackie smiled, though it was small and tired. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For everything.”

Kovacs watched her leave, then turned back to his workstation. The rare element data gnawed at the edge of his thoughts. The enemy wasn’t finished with Prescott, and he knew the colony’s survival would depend on more than just prosthetics and mechs. Innovation was their best weapon, and Kovacs was determined to wield it.

As he began refining the Phoenix Limbs design, he murmured to himself, “We’ll rebuild from the ashes. They won’t take this from us again.”