“First thing you need to know is that is gets really fucking hot in here.”

—Vylensus Forgemaster Huril Eandoren’s first words to every apprentice he ever had

The door behind Zaina opened of its own accord, and she walked through without dwelling on it. Right before she passed through the threshold, Yla’s voice called after her.

“Be warned, child! The ancient’s designs are not yet known. Tread lightly, as its plans involve you still—willing or not.”

Zaina nodded and turned to leave the High Scholars and their strangeness behind. The door shut behind her. She’d done all she could—something weird had happened, and she reported it.

The glyph twirled around her head, impatiently waiting. She gestured for it to go, and it did; she trotted along behind it as they made their way to one of the parked transports.

The trip was silent—but it was a more comfortable silence without her mentor. Zaina was able to stretch her legs out and take deep, relaxing breaths while the glyph smoothly flew their craft to one of the lower islands nearby—upon it was a tall, circular building with an open top. The bottom was wide, but it thinned out as it went higher. The island was otherwise empty, covered with grass and sparse patches of trees. A single, small river trickled off to either side of the hovering mass, forming two waterfalls that trickled down into the abyss.

More than anything, Zaina loved Kaado. It was such a strange place—old, but modern; mysterious, but practical; beautiful, but chaotic; simple, but complex. She stepped out of the transport. The glyph chirped as the door closed.

I guess it’s going to wait in there.

The transport had other ideas. Its engines hummed and it took off, flying back to the Celestial Sanctuary below.

Zaina frowned. Those fucking dicks.

She’d probably have to ask whoever worked here for a ride. Hopefully they were friendly.

The outer wall of the forge was made of tan stone with patches of metal; the entrance was a full arch with no door. There weren’t any visible lights from the outside, so Zaina cautiously took her first few steps into the building.

Suddenly a bright light flashed, and the room filled with hums, clicks, and the stirring of large machinery. There were no hallways or chambers—only one big workshop.

A high-pitched voice pierced the noise, “Hey, there! Welcome to the forge on Kaado. What can we do for you today?”

Zaina was looking around for the source of the voice, but nobody was there. Lights lining the interior walls flared to life, giving her a better look at the inside; the first flashing light came from a massive cylinder built into the center of the room, with holes on every side emitting a radiant glow. The walls were lined with machinery and shelves upon which raw and processed metals sat. The anvil was a series of robotic arms around a small, metal cylinder sitting with its flat face up, with several metal attachments hanging from the wall. The arms hung from a bar suspended from a railing system rigged into the interior’s upper walls.

Two figures also came into sight; one, a short Potralian—a humanoid with extended ears, extra hair, and heightened senses—stepped forward. “My name’s Eva, Eva Kiminaw.” Her nose wrinkled. “Hm. You just came from the sanctuary, huh? Let me guess—here for your armor?”

“How did you—”

“Well, for one,” Eva said, “you don’t have any armor. That’s usually why people come to the forge. They go to the armory for weapons and the forge for armor. Doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?”

“Hello, there,” the other figure, a human man with short, brown hair, green eyes, and pale skin, stepped forward and said. “We’re here to make sure your armor is the best it can be.”

Eva dashed off to the side and grabbed a cup. She then zipped closer to Zaina and took a sip of the steaming liquid inside. “Can I get you a cup of gamba?”

“Gamba?” Zaina’s head tilted. “What the hell is gamba?”

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“Gamba! You know, gamba!” Eva waved her free arm. “You really don’t know gamba? What kind of backwater world—”

The human male stepped forward and said, “If you need any refreshments, we can provide them.”

Zaina rubbed the back of her head. “What is gamba, anyway?”

“Gamba is the universal drink,” Eva said after taking another sip. “It gives you energy—wakes you up and makes you sharper!”

Zaina shrugged. “Sure, what the hell? I’ll try some.”

“Perfect! You won’t regret it.” Eva zipped over to a table with a beverage maker identical to the one in Zaina’s hut.

So that’s what that machine is for.

While Eva fussed with the machine to brew a cup of the mystery drink, the other person stepped forward and said, “My name is Garrick Bolden. I was once a lancer, but now I work the forge with Eva. We’re fairly new, but the old forge master taught Eva everything he knew; she’s still teaching me everything she knows.”

“Makes sense,” Zaina said. “I’m not going to be your first, am I?”

Garrick raised his hands. “Oh, heavens, no. I’ve been at it for a dozen moon cycles or so. So, while Eva’s taking care of that—she loves her gamba—I’ll get a few specs. Would you mind stepping into that machine and spreading your arms?” He pointed behind Zaina.

She turned, and there was a ten-foot-tall cylinder with a person-sized opening. She walked toward it. Before she entered, Garrick called out, “Oh—you should probably take off your utility belt! And your shoes, too, if you would. Sorry, spaced out for a second, there.”

She frowned—these two seemed a little haphazard. The heavy equipment lining the walls looked dangerous. Hopefully nothing got fucked up too badly.

I do have terrible luck with shit going sideways, apparently.

She took off her belt and shoes and placed them on a nearby table, then stepped into the odd machine and spread her arms. The interior was cramped, and hundreds of tiny red lights lined every inch of the wall. With a low buzz, they all glowed at once.

The machine hummed for about five seconds, then died down. Garrick’s muted voice called out to her, “All right, you can step out now!”

She walked back out and collected her utility belt and shoes. As she put them back on, she asked, “What the hell was that?”

“Now we’ve got your measurements, so we can match the armor perfectly to your body. See? Your right leg is half a centimeter shorter than your left. Now we can custom fit your armor for maximum effectiveness. Now—let’s talk material.”

Eva butted in, putting a hot cup of light-brown liquid in Zaina’s hands. “Go on, take a sip. I sweetened it for you, so it shouldn’t be too bitter, but let me know if it is.”

Zaina took a sip—it was sweet but had a pleasant, slightly bitter aftertaste. It was like a jolt to her brain, too—suddenly, she felt more awake, more aware. She took another sip. “That’s good. You’ll have to show me how to make this.”

Eva smiled. “I will! But for now, let’s stick with the specs, shall we? You were on materials, right?”

Zaina nodded as she took another sip.

“Right,” Eva said. “So, there’s a couple of things that go into your armor. First, you’ll want your TAC-suit. That’s easy enough, everyone has a TAC-suit and everyone should be wearing it at all times.”

“What’s a TAC-suit?” Zaina asked.

“Show her, Garrick,” Eva said.

Garrick walked over to a nearby table and grabbed a square piece of black fabric. “This is the material we use to make TAC-suits. The TAC stands for Triple Armor Chain.” He walked back over to Zaina and handed it to her. “If you examine it closely, you’ll see micro-chains interwoven with an impact-resistant polysynth fiber. There are different kinds of TACs, but this is the one that’s best for under-armor protection. It’ll help ward off glancing blows from resonedges, grenades, and low-caliber or low-energy projectiles.”

“That’s it?” Zaina asked. “Glancing blows—nothing direct?”

Eva stepped forward. “There’s only so much we can do against modern weaponry.”

Garrick nodded. “Every little bit helps.”

After another sip, Eva said, “Besides, your TAC-suit will work in conjunction with the rest of your armor, see? This is what you wear beneath everything. Well, except your underwear, if you wear it. I didn’t wear any while I was a lancer. These are actually pretty comfortable once you get used to them. Just make sure you don’t forget your cycle if you have one, or it’ll be a mess.”

Garrick jumped in. “So, now, we come to materials. There are three main metals used by lancers today: duranium, eldarium, and idonium. Some prefer a hybrid. Each has different properties—strengths and weaknesses, so to speak.”

“For example,” Eva said, “duranium is the superior protection against phase cyclers, but won’t do you much good against regular metal scraps. Idonium’s great against scraps, but a single bolt from a phase cycler will melt right through your chest. Make sense?”

“What about the other one?” Zaina asked.

“Eldarium?” Eva’s head rocked back and forth. “It’s kind of a good balance. It’s not great against anything, but it’s not terrible against anything. It’ll absorb direct hits from smaller scraps—emphasis on smaller, mind you—but it won’t do all that much if a phase cycler or focus beam hits you dead-on in the chest. Or a high enough caliber scrap.”

Zaina was flustered—this was too much information all at once. “Well, what do you recommend for a first-timer?”

Eva and Garrick looked at each other, then back at Zaina. Eva said, “We’ve got a special blend we came up with—the forge master even liked it, but he didn’t ever get to try it out personally.”

“What she means to say—” Garrick stepped forward, “—is that Eva has a special blend that she’s been experimenting with for a few years now. It’s good, too. A good balance of weight and protection, with a solid distribution of protective material in key areas.”

Zaina shrugged. “Well, I’m new to all this, so I’ll defer to your judgment.”

Eva squealed with joy. “Hooray! You won’t regret this—uh, what’s your name?”

“Zaina Quin.”

“Well, Zaina Quin, you won’t regret this! I promise, this blend’s gonna make for a kickass set of armor! I’m so glad you came in!”