The skies above Prescott were clear for the first time in weeks, revealing a calm horizon stretching far beyond the battered capital. The echoes of war had faded, replaced by the steady rhythm of recovery. Prescott’s people, resilient and determined, were once again rebuilding—this time with a stronger sense of purpose and unity.

In the newly expanded workshop, Kovacs stood at the center of a group of young technicians, all eagerly listening as he explained the intricacies of mech design. The room was filled with the hum of machinery and the occasional clatter of tools. Blueprints and schematics covered every available surface, detailing not only the Goblins and Gremlins but also the experimental M60 and other prototypes Kovacs had been refining.

“Remember,” Kovacs said, pacing in front of the apprentices, “designing a mech isn’t just about firepower or armor. It’s about balance. A good mech needs to move as well as it fights. It has to protect its pilot without limiting their ability to adapt. And above all, it has to work in the real world, not just on paper.”

One of the apprentices, a young woman named Leena, raised her hand. “What about the M60? How did you make it so powerful without it becoming a sluggish tank?”

Kovacs smiled faintly. “That’s where Prescott’s rare elements come in. The lighter, more efficient engine made all the difference, but even that wouldn’t have worked without Ilara’s help. It’s not just about what you build—it’s about who you build it with.”

He gestured toward the partially assembled frame of a Gremlin in the corner. “Now, show me what you’ve learned. Take that design and optimize its power routing. If it overheats, it’s useless.”

As the apprentices dispersed to their tasks, Kovacs lingered near the workbench, watching them work. For the first time, he felt a flicker of something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel before: hope. Teaching others, passing on what he’d learned, wasn’t just about Prescott’s survival—it was about ensuring that the colony could stand on its own, no matter what came next.

***

Across the city, Jackie was in the thick of the rebuilding effort, her Goblin repaired and repurposed for heavy lifting. She maneuvered the mech with practiced ease, hoisting sections of collapsed buildings and clearing debris with its powerful arms. Civilians worked alongside her, shouting directions and offering waves of thanks as she moved from site to site.

“Sergeant Stewart!” a voice called from below.

Jackie peered down from the cockpit, spotting a militia officer waving a clipboard. She powered down the Goblin’s arms and opened the hatch, stepping out onto the platform.

“Jackie’s fine,” she said, descending the ladder. “What’s up?”

The officer handed her the clipboard. “We’ve got a request from the western farms. They need reinforcements to help secure their supply routes. Seems like some scavenger groups have been moving in since the battle.”

Jackie scanned the report, her brow furrowing. “We’ll handle it. Assign two squads and make sure they’re equipped for long patrols. I’ll check in with them before they head out.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The officer nodded, his respect clear. “Understood.”

As he walked away, Jackie glanced at the city around her. The people had started looking to her for leadership, and while she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the role, she wasn’t going to back down from it either. Every decision she made felt heavy, but every time someone thanked her or offered a tired smile, she felt the weight shift just enough to keep going.

Kovacs found her later that afternoon, wiping grime from her hands as she stepped out of the Goblin. “Still playing foreman, I see,” he teased, leaning against a nearby stack of supplies.

Jackie smirked, tossing the rag at him. “Better than hiding in the workshop all day. Speaking of which, how’s your little army of apprentices?”

“Terrifyingly competent,” Kovacs said with a mock shudder. “They’re going to put me out of a job soon.”

She laughed, the sound light but genuine. “Good. Maybe you’ll finally take a break.”

“Not likely,” he replied, though his smile softened. “How about you? Ready to hang up the helmet and enjoy some well-earned rest?”

Jackie shook her head, her gaze drifting to the horizon. “Not yet. There’s too much to do. Prescott’s still standing, but it’s not safe yet.”

“Not with Navros lurking in the shadows,” Kovacs agreed, his tone darkening. “But the government’s finally stepping up. They’re sending inspectors and enacting protections for the rare elements. It’s a start.”

“A start,” Jackie echoed, crossing her arms. “But it won’t mean anything if we’re not ready when Navros tries again.”

“We will be,” Kovacs said, his voice firm. “And we’ll be ready because of people like you.”

Jackie arched an eyebrow. “You’re getting sentimental on me, builder boy.”

“Blame the apprentices,” he said with a shrug. “They’ve got me thinking about the future.”

Jackie smiled faintly, shaking her head. “One battle at a time, Kovacs.”

“Always,” he replied.

***

The rare elements that had made Prescott a target remained a source of both opportunity and danger. The government had begun enacting measures to secure them, deploying specialized teams to oversee mining operations and establishing strict protocols for their transport. Militia squads, including those under Jackie’s command, were assigned to patrol the areas surrounding the deposits.

Kovacs worked with the government officials, designing protective systems for the mining equipment and transport vehicles. He incorporated some of Ilara’s advanced techniques, ensuring that even in the event of another attack, the rare elements would be difficult to steal or destroy.

“These elements are more than just resources,” Kovacs explained during a meeting with the council. “They’re Prescott’s lifeline. But they’re also a beacon. We have to be ready for whatever comes next.”

***

As night fell, Jackie and Kovacs found themselves back on the platform overlooking the city. The lights below flickered, illuminating the bustling streets as the people of Prescott worked late into the night. Despite the scars of the battle, there was a sense of purpose in every movement, a quiet determination that had become the heart of the colony.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” Jackie asked, her voice soft.

Kovacs nodded slowly. “Navros isn’t going to give up. But next time, we’ll be ready.”

Jackie glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. “You’re teaching them, aren’t you? The apprentices?”

He smiled faintly. “Someone has to. If Prescott’s going to survive, it needs more than one mech smith.”

Jackie leaned against the railing, her gaze distant. “You think we’ll win?”

“I think we’ll keep fighting,” Kovacs said. “And that’s enough.”

She reached out, her hand finding his. “One battle at a time.”

He squeezed her hand gently, the faintest smile on his face. “One battle at a time.”

Above them, the stars shone brightly, their light a quiet reminder that even in the darkest nights, there was always a path forward.