Kael stopped but did not turn around. She merely shifted the weight of the bag on her shoulder. “The engine lives,” she stated plainly. “The rest is yours.”
Jax sputtered, his face reddening under the desert sun. He wasn’t used to being defied, especially not by someone he considered so utterly beneath him. “Don’t you dare walk away, you insolent scavenger! We’re not finished with you!” He took a step forward, his hand instinctively going to the blaster holstered at his hip, though he hesitated to draw it. There were limits, even for him, and shooting an unarmed mechanic in broad daylight for mere insubordination might raise too many questions back at the fort.
The other soldiers, momentarily stunned by Kael’s calm defiance, began to stir. A few snickered nervously, realizing the lieutenant had been publicly rebuffed. Others, more aggressive, started to close in, forming a loose semi-circle around Kael, cutting off her path to the open desert. The metallic tang of anticipation hung in the air, a familiar scent of impending confrontation. They expected her to cower, to beg, to finally show some fear.
But Kael remained unmoving, her back still to them, an almost supernatural stillness in her posture. It was as if she were a statue carved from the very rock of the desert, impervious to their petty threats. Her silence was a heavier weapon than any blaster, slowly eroding the soldiers’ bravado. The desert wind, a constant, mournful companion, picked up a swirling eddy of dust around her feet, making her seem even more detached, almost mythical.
Suddenly, a low rumble started to build, a deep thrumming that vibrated through the parched ground beneath their boots. It wasn’t the wind, nor was it the distant drone of a supply shuttle. It was the transport vehicle, the one they had written off, the one Kael had just touched. The sound grew, a steady, powerful growl that spoke of raw, brute force returning to life. A plume of black smoke belched from its exhaust, then cleared, replaced by a steady stream. The massive engine, now fully awake, hummed with a renewed vigor that seemed to mock their earlier incompetence.
Jax stared, his mouth agape. He looked from the reanimated vehicle to Kael’s still, unyielding form. He had to be sure. He rushed to the driver’s side, wrenched open the hatch, and peered inside. The diagnostic panels, which had been a chaotic mess of flashing red lights and critical errors, were now glowing with a reassuring, steady green. The vehicle was not just repaired; it was running perfectly. He slammed the hatch shut, the metallic clang echoing in the sudden silence.
He turned back to Kael, who had still not moved, her figure now framed against the colossal, revived vehicle, a silent testament to her skill. The other soldiers, who had been ready to intimidate her, now stood dumbfounded, their blasters still holstered, their cruel jokes forgotten. The desert, which had seemed so empty, now felt charged with Kael’s silent power.
