Ace
Location: Bonadan - Vergeworks - Sector 9G
891 ABY
"Easy." Mira said, not looking at him at first. Her voice was calm, unhurried. She trusted machines more than people, and she spoke to both the same way. "Let it settle before you torque it. You rush it, you strip the threading."
Acier nodded and adjusted, tongue pressed lightly against his teeth in concentration. The workbench was cluttered with parts scavenged from a dozen ships that no longer flew. Burned couplings. Melted servos. Power cells with just enough life left in them to be useful.
Mira finally leaned in, resting one arm across his shoulders, a steadying presence. Her other hand guided his, correcting the angle by a few degrees.
"There." She murmured. "Feel that? That's it lining up."
He felt it. A faint give, like the machine was agreeing with him. Acier liked machines because they didn't lie. They either worked or they didn't. If something failed, it was because of a reason you could trace, retrace, fix. People were messier. People disappeared. Machines stayed where you left them.
Around them, Sector 9G hummed. The distant roar of starship engines bled through the bulkheads. Somewhere deeper in the scrapyard, metal screamed as something big was cut free. The sound never bothered him. It was constant. Grounding.
He had met Mira by accident. Stripping a nav console from a dead courier ship when she caught him. She didn't shout. Didn't grab. Just crouched beside him and watched long enough to see he knew what he was doing.
"You're going to short that if you pull it like that." she'd said.
He'd frozen, waiting for punishment that didn't come. Instead, she'd shown him a better way.
Now, months later, she corrected him without condescension. She explained systems like stories.. Power flowed here. Information traveled there. Slice the wrong node, and everything went dark. Slice the right one, and doors opened.
Acier tightened the last coupling and pulled his hands back slowly. Mira inspected the work, nodding once. Approval was subtle with her. It didn't need to be loud.
"Not bad." She said. "You're learning."
He glanced up at her, eyes bright but guarded. Praise was something you accepted carefully. Too much of it made you soft. On the bench beside them, partially hidden under a rag, was the lightsaber.
He hadn't meant to bring it today. It usually stayed hidden. But the dorms had been crowded that morning. Someone older, someone meaner, had been asking questions. So he brought it.
Mira noticed, of course. She noticed everything. But she didn't touch it or ask where it came from. Just acknowledged its presence with a look that said she saw it, and it was safe.
"Where'd you learn to be so careful?" She asked casually, wiping grease from her hands.
Acier shrugged. "You break things, you don't get replacements."
Mira nodded, like he'd confirmed something she already suspected. She reached out and ruffled his hair once, quick, affectionate, gone before it could linger.
"You're not broken." She said, almost absentmindedly. "Just… unfinished."
He didn't fully understand what she meant. Not then. But the words stayed with him. He climbed down from the crate and packed the tools away exactly where they belonged. As he headed back toward the scrapyard paths, Mira's voice followed him.
"Same time tomorrow, Ace."
He paused at the nickname. She was the only one who used it. He didn't correct her, because some things... even on Bonadan, were worth keeping.
