Chapter 15 Vacation Trip to Scrap City

Dune’s fists clenched at her sides as she processed Conor’s words. They had been best friends once, inseparable. Conor had been her only light during one of the darkest times in her life. When she thought she had lost him, it felt like a piece of her soul had been ripped away.

And now, here he was, alive.

But the relief that should have flooded her veins was short-lived.

“I’m dying, Stela,” Conor said, his voice a mixture of resignation and bitterness.

 “I escaped before they could finish their process, but it came at a cost. My body’s rejecting all of this.” He gestured to his half-metal, half-decayed form.

 “The drugs, the implants—they’re falling apart, just like me.”

“There has to be something we can do!” 

 “You survived this long, Conor. We can fix this. We can—”

“I survived this long because I kept pumping myself full of that garbage the gearheads use,” he interrupted, “It’s nothing compared to the real super soldier serum. Barely kept me alive until now, and even that’s not working anymore.”

Dune’s head snapped to Sable.

 “Doc. Can you help him? You’ve got to know something—anything.”

Sable hesitated, taking a cautious step toward Conor. He examined the grotesque fusion of metal and flesh for a moment before shaking his head.

“I’m… I’m not versed in biomechanics,” Sable said, “But even if I were, without access to the actual super soldier drug, there’s nothing I can do. He’s in bad shape—honestly, I don’t even understand how he’s still alive.”

Dune’s face crumpled. She turned back to Conor, her heart breaking at the thought of losing him again.

But before the moment could sink deeper into despair, Reed’s voice cut through the tension.

“Umm, so, hey,” he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

 “I didn’t want to, y’know, bother you guys during your heartfelt little reunion, but it may or may not have happened that, uh… somehow… the super soldier drug from the bunker slipped into my pocket.”

“What?!” Mia shouted, immediately smacking the back of his head.

 “You idiot! You were thinking of injecting that crap into yourself?!”

“Hey! Ow!” Reed whined, rubbing the spot where Mia hit him.

 “Mia! Come on! Gearheads look cool! Just picture it—me with a chrome jaw, shiny steel biceps, abs of steel—”

“—and your nonexistent brain as toothpaste!” Mia snapped, glaring at him.

Without hesitation, Dune grabbed the injector from Reed’s hand and plunged the needle into Conor’s exposed arm. The thick, luminous liquid surged into his veins.

Conor gritted his teeth, his mechanical limbs twitching as the real super soldier serum coursed through him. Unlike the diluted versions used by the gearheads, this was the unrestrained, full-strength compound. His flesh and metal began bonding together at an accelerated rate.

Dune knelt beside him, gripping his shoulder firmly.

 “Hold on, Conor. You will make it.”

The process was intense as circuits realigned and fused with his organic tissue. The scars where flesh met steel smoothed over, though Conor’s breathing remained shallow.

“Yeah, I’m… still here,” he muttered weakly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Damn right you are.”

 She helped him to his feet, his weight leaning heavily against her.

 “Let’s get you out of here.”

Back at her bunker, Dune guided Conor to her bed.

 “Rest, when you get better, we will talk more.” 

“Ulrich, keep an eye on him. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Of course, I’ll monitor his vitals closely.”

Meanwhile, Sable was already on Dune’s computer setup, his fingers flying across the keys as he accessed the old SSD drive they had retrieved. 

“This drive’s got some serious layers of protection,” he muttered to himself. 

“Whoever set this up really didn’t want anyone snooping.”

Mia, stretched out on Dune’s soft couch, barely lifted her head.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll crack it. Just try not to blow up the place while you’re at it, Doc.” She yawned and rolled over, curling into a more comfortable position, hugging her rifle.

Reed, on the other hand, was in his element. The Rust King had practically claimed Dune’s garage as his personal playground. He examined every tool, machine, and contraption with a mixture of awe and glee.

“Man, Dune!” he called out, holding up a particularly hefty wrench.

 “You’ve got some serious gear in here! Mind if I… borrow a few things?”

Dune shot him a warning glare from the doorway.

 “Break anything, and I’ll test that wrench on your skull.”

After hours hunched over Dune’s computer setup, Sable suddenly leaned back in his chair, a wide grin spreading across his face.

 “I got it!” he shouted triumphantly, “I finally cracked it!”

Mia startled awake on the couch muttered, rubbing her eyes.

“What? Did the Doc actually do something useful?” 

Reed poked his head in from the garage, holding a welding torch. 

“Did you blow something up, or is this good news?”

“It’s great news!” Sable replied, his hands trembling with excitement as he scrolled through the decrypted files.

 “Inside the SSD, there are a few documents and—get this—schematics for a device!”

He spun his chair around to face Dune, his eyes gleaming with hope.

“You were right. There’s still a chance. The SSD contains the personal logs of the lead science assistant from the facility. Most of the entries are corrupted—it’s ancient data—but I was able to piece together the gist of it.”

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Dune said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

“The project wasn’t destroyed,” Sable continued, “It was stolen. The science city was attacked by some faction, and they made off with the prototype. But the assistant had anticipated this. They built a tracker and recorded the schematics for it on the SSD, just in case.”

“So, we just build this tracker, and we’re good?” Dune asked, tilting her head skeptically.

“There are a few steps. But it’s all here—everything we need to get started.”

Dune’s lips curled into a smirk, her usual playful demeanor returning.

 “Well, well, Doc. Looks like we’re still in the race. So, what are we waiting for? Let’s build this thing!”

Reed clapped his hands together. 

“Finally! Some real tinkering! Dune, you’ve got the gear, and I’ve got the brains. Let’s make some magic happen.”

Mia groaned, dragging herself off the couch.

 “Magic, huh? I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a lot of cursing and loud bangs.”

 Through hours of intense tinkering, soldering, and occasional bickering, the tracker was finally completed. The schematics weren’t overly complex for a crew like this. Dune’s workshop was a treasure trove of spare parts, making it easy to piece together the necessary components.

Reed held up the finished tracker. 

“And there it is!” he declared, puffing out his chest.

 “Built with the hands of a genius—and a little help from you lot, of course.”

Sable adjusted his glasses, muttering, “You mean my genius. You just kept adding unnecessary bolts until I stopped you.”

Ulrich gave the device a once-over. His single glowing eye dimmed briefly.

 “Efficiently constructed. The calibration appears accurate. This will function as intended.” 

The device beeped softly as it synced with Sable’s system, and a small dot began blinking steadily on the map. Sable zoomed in on the location.

 “There,” he said, pointing at the screen.

 “It’s in a city. That’s where the tracker’s signal is coming from.”

Dune squinted at the map. 

“Wait a minute. Isn’t that Scrap City? Yeah, look at the coordinates—it’s right by the robot coliseum.”

Reed’s eyes lit up. 

“No way! The robot coliseum! Man, I love that place. I’ve been there more than a few times. They’ve got all kinds of insane matches—robot versus robot, best place in town!”

Mia rolled her eyes.

 “Yeah right, best place in town my ass. The fights are rigged. Even a fool could tell the so-called ‘champion’ is just a mech piloted by some thug. Hardly a fair fight.”

“Enough!” Sable snapped, his frustration bubbling over.

 “I don’t care about robot fights, rigged or not. We’re not here to sightsee or indulge in your ridiculous hobbies. We have a job to do. The device is pointing us to that city, so that’s where we’re going.”

Dune held up her hands in mock surrender, grinning.

 “Alright, Doc. No need to lose your cool. We’ll pack up and head out.”

Reed slapped his hands together.

 “Sweet. Road trip to Scrap City! Can’t wait to see the place again.”

“Focus, Reed,” Mia said, crossing her arms.

 “This isn’t a vacation.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Reed muttered, clearly still excited.

 “Alright, team. You heard the Doc—gear up and get ready to move out. Scrap City awaits, and it sounds like we’ve got work to do.”