Chapter 02 A Deal in the Dust and Steel Grudges

The man fidgeted with the cuff of his coat, eyes darting around the bar as if every shadow hid a spy.

 "Call me Sable," he said, though his voice wavered, betraying the lie. 

His clothes were too clean, his boots too polished for someone who had spent real time in the desert. The gears bulging in his pockets, indicating he wasn’t some desperate scavenger. He was well-off, and that was all Dune cared about.

"Sable, huh? Sounds mysterious. What’s next? You tell us you’re on some noble quest to save the world?" Her sarcasm landed with a dry chuckle, but Sable didn’t flinch.

“Yes, yes. You and the jokes. This job... I need a team. It’s not the kind of job you take solo,” he said ignoring Dune, his voice lowering as he leaned in.

 "And from what I hear, you’re all capable. This isn’t something to mess around with. I need people who know how to handle themselves. Mia is the best sniper around. As for you, Dune. You handle yourself well in all situations and are trustworthy. As for Reed... he knows the way around the desert and is probably the best mechanic around this town.”

Mia sat quietly, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied him. Her fingers tapped lightly on the table, but she said nothing, waiting for the details. Reed, meanwhile, was doing a terrible job of pretending he wasn’t staring at Dune. His eyes were fixed on the curve of her suit, his mouth half-open like a puppy seeing a steak for the first time.

“Focus, Reed,” she muttered, shifting slightly in her seat so that her steel beam clinked against the chair leg, jolting him from his trance.

Sable cleared his throat and leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.

 “Listen carefully. What I’m about to tell you don’t leave this table. There’s a bunker buried deep beneath the dunes, just past the Razor Ridge. It’s not like the others. The place is ancient, untouched by scavengers or raiders. Inside... there’s a device. Something left from the old wars. It can—” He hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the bar.

“It can grow vegetation,” he finally whispered, “Anywhere. Any terrain. Imagine that. Green fields, crops, forests—all in this wasteland.”

The table fell silent. For a moment, even Reed stopped staring at Dune and blinked in genuine surprise. Mia’s tapping stopped, her hand resting on the table.

Dune was the first to break the silence, “You’re telling me there’s a magic box out there that can turn sand into farmland? Sounds too good to be true.”

Sable shook his head. 

“It’s not magic. It’s old tech. Something from before the ancient wars. Maybe even from the Golden Age before World War Four. I’ve seen fragments of its schematics, the kind of stuff that made cities bloom in deserts. If we find it, it could change everything.”

Mia finally spoke, “If it’s real, every warlord and raider in the wasteland would want it. And I don't even start on Skytech, they’d kill for it.”

“And they wouldn’t use it for growing crops,” Dune added, “They’d turn it into leverage. Control the food, control the people.”

 “That’s why I need a small, capable, and trustworthy team to retrieve it. People who can fight, survive the trip, and understand how dangerous this is.”

“And you think we’re those people?” Dune asked, crossing her arms.

 “Flattering. But let’s cut the noble act. What’s in it for us?”

Sable reached into his coat and pulled out a small sack. He placed it on the table, the sound of metal clinking inside. Dune opened it cautiously, her eyes widening slightly as she saw the stash of platinum gears inside. Enough to keep her and her bunker running for years.

“There’s more where that came from,” Sable said. 

“I have connections. Resources. You help me find the device, and I’ll ensure you’re rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. But...” His voice dropped again.

 “We need to move fast. Word is spreading. Others know about the ruin. Skytech soldiers already gave me some trouble. The longer we wait the more dangerous it will be.”

Reed leaned back, trying to look casual but impressed by the gears. 

“Alright, I’m in. A little danger’s worth a shot at all this,” he gestured toward the sack.

Mia sighed, “This is insane. But fine. If Reed goes, I’ll go. Someone has to keep him out of trouble.” She jabbed a thumb at Reed, who smirked.

“Alright, Sable. You’ve got my attention. I'm in as well. But if this turns out to be a wild goose chase, you’ll pay us anyway.”

“Thank you. You won’t regret this.”

Dune smiled, grabbing her steel beam and hoisting it onto her back.

 “Oh, I always regret these things. But hey, that’s half the fun.”

After agreeing to the job, Dune, Mia, Reed, and Sable left the bar. Dune adjusted the steel beam strapped to her back and glanced around, her instincts prickling. Something wasn’t right. She felt it before she saw it.

Then came the voice, low and rough.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Crash! The infamous sand rat herself!”

 She turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing as they landed on the figure standing atop the bar’s roof. A man clad in rusted mech armor, his face scarred and twisted, grinned down at her. His name was Steeljaw. A name she hadn’t heard in a while.

“Tinyjaw,” Dune teased, “I thought I smelled something rotten. What do you want?”

“What do you think?!” he shouted, hefting a makeshift grenade launcher onto his shoulder. 

“Your head on a spike! And that fancy suit of yours!”

Reed nudged Mia.

 “Who’s this guy? One of her exes?”

“More like someone she humiliated one too many times,” Mia replied, unimpressed.

Dune sighed, cracking her neck.

 “Alright, Littlejaw. You want a rematch? Fine. Just try not to cry when I break that tin can you call armor.”

Steeljaw didn’t bother responding. He fired the grenade launcher, the projectile screaming toward her. The explosion was deafening, sending a cloud of dust and sand into the air.

 Dune emerged from the smoke, completely unscathed. She brushed the sand off her shoulder. 

“That tickled. Got anything stronger other than fireworks?”

Steeljaw roared, leaping down from the roof with a force that cracked the ground beneath him. He swung a massive, spiked flail, aiming straight for her head. Dune blocked it with her steel beam, the impact sending a shockwave rippling through the air.

“Nice try,” she taunted, sidestepping his next swing. She pulled out her SMG and unloaded a burst of bullets at his armor, the sparks raining down on the ground.

He pulled out another grenade and hurled it at her feet, the explosion throwing up a massive cloud of sand. Dune was still standing, her suit glowing faintly from the impact absorption.

 “You’re really bad at this, Tinyjaw! Just give up before you embarrass yourself even more!” 

 Before he could react, she charged him, driving her steel beam into his chest plate with enough force to send him flying into a nearby wall.

The sound of the impact echoed through the empty streets. Steeljaw slumped against the wall, his scrap tech armor sparking and malfunctioning. Dune walked up to him, crouching down to meet his eyes.

“Next time you want to kill me,” she said, tapping his helmet with her beam, “bring something better than fireworks.”

She turned and walked back to the others. 

“Come on. We’ve got a bunker to raid.”

 As their buggy disappeared into the horizon, Steeljaw spat into the dirt, his voice a low growl.

“This isn’t over, Stela. I'll find you... and when I do... You will pay for what you did to me.”