Meeting the man

Once I somewhat recollect myself I get to work. First I find the part I caused all this commotion for. The laser's light condenser, the main part of the weapon that actually makes it work. Unfortunately I don't have any spares which means if I can't fix this with the stuff I have around here I'm just screwed and I'm off to steal another one despite the risks.

So hoping against hope that this will actually work I take the part over to a makeshift bench in the corner of my little hovel. It's made entirely from melted down scrap and is the perfect height for me but doesn't do anything for the fashion of the place.

Not to say that it doesn't have it's own rustic charm but some of the metal is deformed in places and even the metals themselves don't always mix well together so it actually looks a lot like someone just melted a bunch of metal together in the vague resemblance of a desk. That would be a correct assessment by the way.

I place the light condenser on the desk and take a detailed look at it. The reason it was thrown away as it turns out is that the pathway for the light to travel to the rest of the laser was blocked and someone decided it was just too much effort to clean it. At least I can definitely fix it up. Though whether there are other issues or not with the compatibility among my other parts is yet to be determined.

Regardless I should get to cleaning it and figuring out those issues as I go along. So I use some of the specialised cleaning tools lying around on the floor to clean the gunk off the middle of the condenser and slot it into the laser on the robot.

I also take the laser off the robot for now so I don't break the robot should something happen to the laser. If it explodes for example I don't want it to damage the robot, though in that particular case I'd probably be a little too dead to care.

Regardless I detach the laser from the robot's arm and start running my tests on the bench. First I try to fire the laser. The most dangerous and perhaps the most crucial test. The outcome however is not dangerous or crucially significant. Instead the laser lights up incredibly briefly and then nothing happens.

Confused I look into the laser and discover the compatibility is the issue. As it turns out condensing light is a fairly draining process on the battery and this one having been fixed up before but slowly draining as it hasn't been charged again appears to be out of charge.

Luckily I have a fair amount of batteries because I know how much power it takes to run lethal weapons. Actually if it had been hooked up to the robot it wouldn't have had this problem because the robot has a rather good power source and the battery can recharge itself through potential energy, kinetic energy, thermal energy and the like.

It's rather advanced despite being an incredibly old model. It's still got an incredibly small capacity for a battery and the rate at which it recharges is incredibly inefficient compared to top of the line stuff but it does have that same feature as the high grade weaponry famous companies make.

Regardless while I'm charging that other battery I use another that I have lying around and once again test the laser. This time there is a light and the light stays for the duration it should but nothing lethal comes out of the laser. In fact nothing comes out of it except that light.

I once again look at the inside of the laser and this time power isn't the problem. As it turns out the gunk I cleared out was melted metal. The metal used in the construction of this laser wasn't up to standard and so when it was fired in quick succession it melted the metal and that was the gunk I cleared out.

Because the barrel isn't correctly shaped the safety measures kicked in and that's stopping the light from going any further, lest it melt the rest of the laser. Lucky too, otherwise it would've melted in my hands or just straight up blown itself to smithereens.

This would also explain why they threw it away. They likely knew it was a defective product and figured getting a new one would just be good sense. That or this is some sort of prototype from one company or another and they just didn't bother to build upon it, instead scrapping it in favour of better and thus more expensive materials.

Metal that can withstand laser fire isn't easy to find but I've been here for quite a while now and have a fair amount of it on hand. If I just varnish the laser with that metal and then fire it I'll see how much metal I will need to stop the heat from the laser conducting and affecting the metal the laser is actually made out of.

It won't work as a permanent solution but I don't have much of the stuff and I can always re-apply the varnish after each use once it's melted. Not perfect but not completely unusable and that's what we're going for here. So I spend the next hour or so carefully varnishing the barrel of the laser with a non-conductive heat-resistant metal and once again tried the laser after that.

I continued such DIY methods for quite some time improving the laser and getting it to try and fire after each attempt. I was at this for quite some time until I realised that my stomach was grumbling. Thinking I may as well skip lunch again and I didn't really want to go back to my house I just continued working while ignoring that for as long as I could manage.

Eventually however I knew that it was late and I was just too hungry to ignore at this point. It was starting to effect my work on the laser. I'd been staring at it blankly for a little while now and I was starting to get incredibly frustrated with the lack of progress. Me showing any frustration when working on machines was a sign that I really was exhausted and hungry.

I still didn't want to return home but any later and I'd have a real job getting past the junklads. Their patrols at night were just as rigorous if not more so and while my night vision is good enough I would still be shattered and hungry so it's probably not a good idea to wait that long.

So I reluctantly left my home and went through what felt like the most arduous task of the day. Walking home. It took quite a bit of effort to get past the junklads again because I was just that exhausted. Every time I hid in the piles of junk I just wanted to sleep there and then but I knew that it wouldn't be safe and that thought alongside the anxiety from that exact scenario was the only thing that kept me awake.

Once I'd walked so far in the wastelands that I could no longer see the junkyard I let out a sigh of relief and was about to collapse before I remembered that I probably shouldn't be relieved. After all I'm heading to my house and that's not going to be particularly relaxing either. Not to mention that I'm not even there yet.

So I reluctantly traverse the completely empty wastelands completely occupied only by my thoughts. The problem with being immersed in your thoughts is it often leads to overthinking and most if not all of the time, overthinking leads you into unpleasant territory as it is for myself currently.

The thoughts of what might happen when I get home fill my head constantly. Imagining the scene when I get home and what will happen to me shortly afterwards. Not that I noticed but the more I thought the more my frown deepened, my eyebrows furrowed and my face quickly developed beyond a scowl to a boiling rage.

My expression must've looked ghastly but thankfully no one was there to see it before I got a hold of myself. When I got to the grav-tube I flattened out my expression and made sure that I looked as uninterested in everything as I always did before jumping in and hoping to calm myself by looking at the sights.

When I reached the harbour in the grav-tube I noticed something different from usual that made me scowl even more. A mothership version large-class military grade ship. It would sound like a bunch of nonsense jargon to anyone who doesn't know what they're used for and in a similar case most people would be relieved if they saw such a ship. Especially if they were in any sort of peril.

For me however this was the source of my peril and I was far from pleased to see it. In fact it only solidified a bad premonition I'd been having this entire time. I was right that the old man's home. He was carried home by that ship.

Motherships are used as commander vessels. No primitive should ever really be able to lay eyes on one let alone take a look at the inside of one and help pilot it. Fortunately for the old man, he's a fairly accomplished primitive soldier and as such he's 'given the privilidge' to ride in one of the ships connected to one. Those were his own words by the way. He sees riding in one of these things as a badge of honour.

Personally I think it's just a more convenient method of transporting troops into enemy airspace when you have a ship that can hold several smaller versions of itself and connect with all of their pilot systems at once. Not to mention it means they can keep an eye on things from above so to speak.

Ignoring the uses of such a ship however, for me it's just a bad omen. Ruminating on this any further would bring the earlier rage back so I just look away until the grav-tube zips me away from the horrid sight and I can eventually relax. Though it's questionable whether looking at people showing off their wealth is in any way relaxing but it's far more relaxing than looking at the physical proof that the old man's home.

Another few short zips and I arrive at the town square and hop out of the hatch on the tube. There are a good few people around the square but as usual there are very few people who actually bother to use the grav-tube. This thing cost quite a bit of money to build and it's far easier to use than public transport but apparently people find it disorienting or something.

I trudge my way along the streets making every step towards my home look as though I'm heading to the guillotine. Every step is reluctant and I even see people looking at me worriedly. Some smile warmly thinking I've been punished or grounded perhaps and are being called home while some can see the actual despair in my eyes and are genuinely concerned for me.

There are obviously quite a number of people who look at me like I have nothing to do with them because I don't. Similarly there are number of people who seem to delight in my suffering. They almost seem like hands in the pits of hell. Happy to have a new companion. Though some just enjoy misery I'm sure.

Regardless as I try to escape reality I eventually find myself in front of my house. It's still a bunker looking thing. Nothing has changed about the house itself. But the inhabitants. I heave a huge sigh to once again distract myself before putting on an incredibly bright smile. Something anyone who's seen me normally would think was an illusion.

I look like your typical teenage girl. Bright, sunny, cheery even. My tail, ears and the light in my eyes. All things that most people wouldn't notice. I make sure they all make me look like a normal bright girl. Then I grab the doorknob and swing it open with a lot more force than I usually do.

Inside the base room I know exactly where to look to find why I'm smiling so I direct my eyes, alight with passion and zeal I don't possess towards the table. Sitting at that table is my mother. She's smiling even more brightly than usual. She even seems somehow content. Her emerald eyes reflecting so much light you would think they're just green mirrors.

Those emerald mirrors are not reflecting the visage of her daughter whom just entered the room however. No they are reflecting the image of her one true love. The one thing she would abandon everything else in the world to keep. My father.