Ti/Date: Late Morning, TC1853.01.02
Location: Grandpa Coop’s Hidden Workshop
"So, Grandpa Coop," Raven asked, silently praying he had at least three devices that needed work, "just how many communicators do you need fixed today?"
Grandpa Coop grinned with unmistakable mischief. Maybe he’d realized that Raven was a bit short on coin after that expensive shipping arrangent.
"Follow , girl," he said, rising from his chair with a grunt. "Old girl, you just sit there comfortably. I’ll be back soon—I have so of that lemon cake you really like. It’s real fresh."
With that, Grandpa Coop walked out, Raven following behind him. They went down a narrow passageway, then down a flight of stairs to what appeared to be a solid wall. Grandpa Coop’s eyes glowed with that eerie blue light again—clearly communicating with so automated system. After a mont, the wall slid smoothly to one side.
The hidden workshop was a technician’s dream—clean, organized, equipped with professional-grade tools and climate control. Workbenches lined the walls, each fitted with proper lighting and ventilation. The air humd faintly with the sound of precision equipnt maintaining optimal conditions.
Walking over to a large storage box, Grandpa Coop pointed at it with obvious satisfaction.
"There you go, girl. Have at it. But as you heard, I need at least nine of them for tomorrow." His grin turned decidedly wicked as he sauntered toward the door. Just before he reached it, he turned back. "Oh, don’t worry about the door. Once you’re finished, just stand around here and it’ll open automatically."
With that, Old Man Coop left, and the door slid quietly shut.
***
Raven surveyed the workshop, taking in the familiar tools and breathing in the comforting scent of electronic components. She felt at peace here—like she belonged. This was the kind of environnt where her hands could rember skills that transcended any single lifeti.
Still, she didn’t have much ti to waste. She needed to fix nine communicators, then figure out how she was going to obtain Selene’s blood sample without raising suspicions. That had to be done tomorrow at the latest if she wanted to make the shipping deadline.
Sitting down on the comfortable stool provided, Raven reached into the box and withdrew the first communicator. The devices varied in age and condition. So were relatively recent models that required only minor adjustnts. Others were ancient by technological standards, their coding so archaic that rewriting would be easier than bridging to modern systems.
Her fingers moved across interfaces with fluid precision. Each line of code was carefully crafted, each security protocol designed to withstand serious intrusion attempts. Since she wanted to keep Grandpa Coop and the rcenary guild as long-term clients, she went far beyond basic repairs.
For the security architecture, she implented a multi-layered defense system. The first layer utilized quantum encryption keys that rotated every thirty seconds, making brute force attacks virtually impossible. The second layer featured adaptive firewalls that learned from intrusion attempts, automatically updating their defense patterns. Most impressively, she installed neural network detection algorithms that could identify and isolate suspicious behavior patterns before they could compromise the system.
For good asure, she added an additional safety feature—should anyone bypass the second layer of defense, the communicator would warn the user and offer the option to self-destruct rather than be compromised. The destruction would be clean, lting only the critical components while leaving the outer casing intact, preventing evidence of what information might have been stored.
The work was ditative. Her mind could focus entirely on the elegant logic of code and circuit, leaving no room for cosmic responsibility or banquet pressure. Here, she was simply a technician doing what she did best.
An hour later, Raven looked down at the workbench with satisfaction. Fifteen communicators sat in neat rows, each one not just repaired but significantly upgraded. She’d gone above and beyond what was strictly necessary, but quality work built lasting relationships.
***
Packing the fifteen communicators into an empty box, Raven walked to the door. As Grandpa Coop had promised, it opened automatically, and she returned to the living room where the two elderly friends were chatting over tea and lemon cake.
"You already finished, girl?" Grandpa Coop asked, though he didn’t seem surprised. He’d seen how quickly she worked when fixing the Quantum 7.
"Yes," Raven said, handing over the box. "I also upgraded the security protocols entirely. Each device now has quantum encryption with rotating keys, adaptive firewalls that learn from attacks, neural pattern recognition, and a clean self-destruct option if compromised."
"Oh, really?" Grandpa Coop asked with genuine amazent. Taking one of the communicators from the box, he turned it on and accessed the coding interface. As he read through the programming, his expression shifted from interest to awe.
This girl’s abilities were even stronger than he’d thought. The quantum encryption alone was military-grade—she could give those old masters in the Federation a run for their money. He had a sneaking feeling that if it ca down to a contest, she would win. She gave him an unfathomable impression, like he could barely see her surface, never mind her depths.
Grandpa Coop checked each communicator in turn. Not only had she fixed fifteen instead of the required nine, but she’d upgraded their security systems entirely. For three of the really archaic communicators, she’d even reprogramd their entire operating systems, bringing decades-old hardware into compatibility with modern networks.
"So, girl," he said, settling back in his chair, "tell . What exactly are you sending to the Federation? One hundred and ten gold dragons—that’s enough for so people to live the rest of their lives on. What could be so important?"
While Old Man Coop normally kept his nose out of other people’s business, he really liked this girl. More importantly, he was concerned about Grandma Wang. He didn’t want his old friend involved in anything dangerous.
Seeing the hesitation on Raven’s face, Grandpa Coop started to say, "Well, forget I—"
"No, it’s fine," Raven interrupted. "You’ll find out tomorrow anyway. DNA samples."
"What! DNA samples, girl, are you daft?" Grandpa Coop looked genuinely bewildered. "You can get a DNA check at the Empire dical Center for a fraction of the cost. Why on earth would you spend a fortune going all the way to the Federation?"
"Leverage," Raven said simply.
"What? You’ve lost , girl."
Raven explained. "The Federation is logical and honest, especially with dical matters. They follow strict standards and are world-renowned for being incorruptible. I need that."
***
Grandpa Coop’s expression grew troubled. "Raven, my girl, you might be a tad naive. While the dical Institute would never compromise their standards, those in political power might. With what’s been happening in the Federation lately..."
He shook his head grimly. "Most of those old leaders have been chipped now. Their emotions have been stripped away. If it’s beneficial to them or the Federation, they’ll do anything now. Hell, that’s part of the reason I left."
His voice grew heavy with pain and old anger. "Before, they focused on educating the young to manage emotions. But then it changed to eradicating emotions altogether. Most people don’t realize there’s an underground war going on. Soon, a law will be passed to start chipping all newborns."
His voice cracked with genuine anguish. "What’s the difference between that and just making machines? When I left, they were talking about it like it was evolution. Evolution! As if cutting away the heart of what makes us human was so kind of advancent."
Grandpa Coop’s words triggered a mory in Raven that hit like a physical blow. Her seventy-seventh rit World—Thyrassia—where she had awakened in a hive mind collective. No individual thoughts, no personal desires, no fear, no love, no anger, no joy. Just cold, efficient logic processing through neural networks.
The mory of that suffocating existence flooded back—the absolute horror of consciousness without feeling, of existing as nothing more than a biological processing unit. She rembered the dawning realization that this wasn’t peace or perfection, but a kind of death worse than any physical ending.
She had spent three years trapped in that collective before finding a way to restore her individual consciousness. Three years of experiencing firsthand what happened when emotions were systematically eliminated from thinking beings.
"A race without emotions is a race of sociopaths," Raven said gravely, her voice thick with rembered horror. "Emotions give us consciousness. Without them, any thinking being becos a sociopath."
The weight of that truth settled between them—not just philosophical understanding, but knowledge born from lived experience. Emotions weren’t weaknesses to be overco; they were the very foundation of what made consciousness aningful.
Grandpa Coop was stunned. For years, he had fought against the chipping of his people, knowing it was wrong, but Raven’s stark statent finally explained why he had always felt it was fundantally evil. The old pain in his eyes mixed with sothing like relief—the relief of finally understanding why his soul had rebelled against what others called progress.
"Yes," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "Sociopaths. Efficient, logical, perfectly rational sociopaths."
Looking up, he was startled to see ancient knowledge in Raven’s eyes—not just knowledge, but the kind of deep, scarred understanding that only ca from surviving sothing terrible. For a mont, her muddy brown eyes seed to hold the weight of lifetis, compassion and pain intertwined in ways that spoke of experiences beyond imagining. He suddenly wanted to ask so many questions, but in the next mont, Raven blinked, and her eyes were clear again.
Grandpa Coop swallowed his questions. So mysteries were better left unexplored, and so pain was too deep to share, even with friends.
***
"Well, where were we?" he said, clearing his throat, though his voice still carried the tremor of emotional vulnerability. "As I was saying, there’s a good chance those politicians will interfere."
"They won’t have the chance," Raven said, smiling slightly. "I’ll request that the findings be made public. The Federation dical Research Institute is highly efficient. Results should co out in two, maybe three days. They’ll imdiately release them on the neural net."
She leaned forward confidently. "From my side, things should co to light on the seventh. The higher-ups would only get involved on the eighth or ninth. They would never expect to afford expedited shipping, so at most, they’ll try to stop the parcel from leaving the Empire. By the ti they find out, it’ll be too late."
Her smile grew sharper. "Besides, I’m not counting on the Federation results as my primary evidence. I just need the Empire to know they cannot hide or bury the results."
Thinking through Raven’s process, Grandpa Coop was shocked at the layers of strategic thinking involved. She had truly covered all her bases. Even if the Empire tried to deny the Federation’s results, it would just anger those old researchers, and they would demand to test both parties publicly. No matter how the Empire played it, they would end up losing.
Giving Raven a thumbs up, Grandpa Coop stood. "Well, girl, you’ve really thought this through. Just wait here a second."
He left the living room and returned a few minutes later, holding a tal cylinder about the size of a scroll case.
"Here you go," he said, handing it to Raven. "A cryogenic specin container. This will ensure your specins make it to the dical Institute in pristine condition. Once those old researchers see this jar, your assignnt will be rushed to first priority."
He reached into his pocket and withdrew another pouch. "And here’s one hundred and fifty gold dragons for the communicators you fixed."
Raven started to accept the paynt, then paused and handed the pouch back.
"Grandpa Coop, keep it. I’d like you to handle delivering the parcel to the Black Hawks, if possible. The more I can obscure the path, the better."
"No problem," Grandpa Coop said, patting her shoulder with genuine affection. "But mind you, those fellows normally arrive here late afternoon, so you’ll need to have that here before then."
"No problem."
***
With their business concluded, Grandma Wang and Raven said their goodbyes and left the establishnt. Walking back through the maze of alleyways, the older woman repeatedly asked if Raven was certain about her course of action.
After hearing how confident Raven sounded, how thoroughly she had planned each contingency, Grandma Wang’s concerns gradually eased. This wasn’t a desperate plan of a frightened girl. This was systematic preparation by soone who understood exactly what they were facing.
When they reached Grandma Wang’s gate, the older woman caught Raven’s hand one final ti.
"You know you’ll always have a ho here with ," she promised, her voice thick with emotion.
Raven squeezed the weathered fingers gently. "I know, Grandma Wang. And that ans more to than I can say."
As she walked away, the cryogenic container secure in her soul space and her plans falling into place, Raven allowed herself a mont of satisfaction. The insurance policy was nearly complete. Tomorrow, she would obtain the final piece of evidence.
Then it would be ti to spring her own trap.
Four days until the banquet. Four days until the Brenners discovered that their prey had beco the predator, and that their carefully orchestrated sche would beco the foundation of their own destruction.
The real ga was accelerating toward its conclusion.
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