Back at the base in the Basin of Trass, repairs on the Tartarusios went on without end. It had been two months since the crew arrived, and the ship still was not finished. More than thirty mechanics were working on her around the clock, eight of them from the crew itself, and they worked hand in hand with the hired hands from the settlement to get her ready as quickly as they could. Nearly all of the ship's own mechanics were young, in their early or middle twenties, and they had been working on her so long that most of them could have found their way through her guts blindfolded.
The head of the mechanics was Noah. At thirty-three, he was a little older than the rest — tall and handsome, with glossy black hair swept back, dark green eyes and a muscular build that came from countless hours in the hangar patching up the ship and tuning the Orbitons. Seven mechanics worked under him, and he knew every one of them the way a good captain knows his crew.
Carl was a scrawny twenty-two-year-old who did not look as though he could lift a wrench, and anyone who believed that was badly mistaken. His brown hair was always messy and filthy from crawling under the ship and into places no one else would go. He never once hesitated. Every time he slid beneath the machinery, his blue eyes shone with the same excitement they had on his very first day. He loved the ship and everyone on her. He would have done anything for any of them.
Lucas, on the other hand, was something of a slacker. He was twenty-six, tall and lean, with an oval face framed by curly brown bangs and deep brown eyes that always looked half asleep. He spent most of his nights awake watching shows and animated series. Every morning he cursed the gods for giving him such a hard job. Still, he did not hate the work. He only hated the waking-up part.
Quinn was different from the others. He had joined the crew a while back from a distant world that no longer existed, and like so many on the ship, he carried that loss everywhere he went. He was twenty-four, his black eyes always shadowed with sadness. When he had a moment to himself, he would sit alone up in the star room with his long black hair tied back in a bun, gazing out into the void and remembering the planet he had lost. He was a decent mechanic, though still learning. It was Noah who had reached out and offered him a place. Quinn had taken it.
Jamie and Leo were inseparable. Jamie was the hot-tempered one, twenty-two, with short brown hair and black eyes. He lost his temper with the pilots whenever they broke something that was never meant to take a hit, and Leo, the same age, was always there to smooth things over with his silver tongue. Leo was blond, his hair long enough to slick back, and his calm blue eyes could defuse almost any argument as long as his words held out.
Ethan, twenty-five, could usually be found somewhere among the Orbitons. His dream had been to become a pilot, but the implant operation every Orbiton pilot had to undergo had failed, and that hope had shattered with it. He did not let it break him. Instead, he had set out to learn everything there was to know about Orbitons and to master their maintenance, You would often find him perched on top of one, sweat dripping from his short ginger hair, his green eyes fixed on the problem in front of him. No matter what it was, he found it and fixed it.
Morgan was a former pilot of the Terrian Empire who had crashed on a faraway planet and somehow found his way to Antia, where he met Oscar and the others. When they heard his story, they invited him to join them, and he accepted on one condition: he would never pilot an Orbiton again. He hated bloodshed. He had only served the Empire to pay off his debts, and now that he was free, he refused to set foot in one of those war machines ever again. He was twenty-eight, with his blond hair neatly slicked back and brown eyes that shone even in the faintest light. Though he had once flown for the enemy, the crew trusted him completely, because he had earned that trust through hard work and reliability.
While the mechanics worked on the hull, Gabriel and Edward were down in the engine room scanning the control unit for hidden damage. Both of them belonged to the engineering crew under Nolan. Gabriel was thirty-one and as good as any engineer or scientist in the Empire. He was more than just skilled with his hands — he was a brilliant hacker who could slip into almost any system in existence without leaving a trace. He was heavyset, with brown hair swept back and black eyes that never left his screen. There was nothing he could not get past. Edward was simpler. He was the same age as Gabriel, tall and a little skinny, with light-brown curly hair and brown eyes. He had studied engineering on his home world before boarding a cargo ship to Antia at twenty-five, where he had quickly made a name for himself for his construction and engineering work. After meeting Oscar, he had decided to join the crew of this marvelously engineered ship and keep learning.
"Anything?" Edward asked, leaning over Gabriel's shoulder.
Gabriel shook his head slowly without looking up. "Nothing I can find. Which is either very good news or very bad news."
"Why bad?"
"Because this ship has never once told me everything," Gabriel said, and tapped the screen. "Every time I think I understand her, she shows me another door I didn't know was there."
Up on the hull, Carl whooped as a panel finally slid into place. Somewhere in the hangar Jamie was shouting at someone about a scratched actuator, and Leo was already laughing and talking him down. Things on the ship were finally wrapping up. But just as the end of the work came into sight, far out in the void, General Rozasar's fleet was arriving on Antia's doorstep.