The days bled together in a blur of heat and dust as Dominic returned to the wastelands. His workshop had become a prison of sorts—a place where he could hear the heartbeat of the strange core inside the device, its pulse always whispering in the back of his mind. But the time for contemplation had passed. The CMC would be back, and he needed to get ahead of them. He needed to move quickly—because time was running out.
The transport ship he had seen on his way back to the workshop had been stuck in his mind for days. A low-flying cargo transport, making a delivery to the outer edge of the planet. It was carrying something. Old mechs, maybe. But there were other signals, too—strange ones, not part of any salvage operation Dominic had seen before.
And so, he had gone hunting.
Dominic had spent the better part of the morning tracking the ship, following its slow descent across the barren landscape. His crawler bounced over rough terrain, its engine growling, the low hum of the machine the only sound in the desolation. He kept a sharp eye on the transport ship from a distance, the silhouette of its heavy frame cutting through the smoky haze of the dying sun.
The ship was unloading its cargo in a wide, open area littered with rusted mechs and parts. Some of them were ancient, hulking machines, their armor pitted and corroded from years of neglect. Others were more recent—still relatively intact but battered and in tragic condition. The CMC had a reputation for sending their mechs to the front lines until they were useless, then discarding them like broken tools.
Dominic watched them from behind a low ridge, scanning the area through his binoculars. The unloading process was slow—slow enough for him to get in and out undetected. There were a few CMC soldiers overseeing the operation, but they were focused on the cargo, their attention elsewhere.
His fingers twitched around the controls of the crawler as he made his decision. He had the element of surprise. The ship was vulnerable.
With a steady breath, Dominic fired up the crawler's engines, the low growl of its powerplant signaling the start of the hunt. He had no intention of just scavenging this time. He wasn't just taking parts. He was taking the whole damn ship.
The crawler surged forward, skirting around a nearby mound of scrap metal and heading directly toward the unloading zone. The CMC soldiers didn't see him coming until it was too late.
Dominic opened fire.
The first shot struck the transport's hull, rattling the soldiers and sending them scrambling for cover. The crawler's weapon systems—heavily modified with parts from a dozen different mechs—fired again, tearing through the cargo bay doors. The blast was enough to send the soldiers diving for cover, but the damage had already been done. The crawler moved like a predator stalking its prey, its weapons hammering the transport with calculated precision.
The mechs were still being unloaded, and Dominic could see a few soldiers racing to secure the crates, unaware that the real threat had already arrived. He didn't hesitate. The crawler's massive hydraulic arms swung out, ripping into the legs of one of the newer mechs—a CMC model, barely a few months old, and in bad shape. The cockpit was empty, but the mech still held some value. The hydraulics screamed as the legs twisted and bent, the metal groaning under the strain.
Dominic didn't give the mech a chance to recover. He fired his cannons again, shredding its torso. Sparks flew from its interior, and the mechanical beast collapsed to the ground in a heap of twisted metal and burning fuel.
The soldiers were now fully aware of his presence, and panic spread through the unloading zone. A few of them tried to return fire, but they were no match for the sheer destructive power of the crawler. Dominic had built this machine to survive in places like this—and it was his weapon now.
He pressed forward, turning his sights on the transport ship itself. The massive craft was unloading the last of its cargo when the crawler's missiles punched through its side, tearing open the hull and setting off a chain reaction of explosions inside. The ship shuddered, its engines whining as fire erupted from its lower decks. The soldiers tried to escape, but it was too late.
Dominic grinned, the thrill of the hunt coursing through him. This was no longer about survival. This was about power. He was taking this transport. He was taking it all.
He moved quickly, expertly maneuvering the crawler around the wreckage and toward the transport's rear ramp, which was now hanging precariously from the ship's damaged hull. The mech crates were still lined up on the flatbed, but they were barely secured. Dominic was already thinking about the next move—how he could strip this ship down, turn its technology into something usable.
The voice of the heart—a familiar whisper in the back of his mind—grew louder.
"Take it. All of it."
Dominic paused for a moment, staring at the wreckage he had created. The pulse of the heart resonated in his thoughts, the calm, collected rhythm now filling him with a sense of cold purpose. It wasn't just about taking the ship—it was about claiming control, about showing the CMC who was really in charge of this planet.
His hands tightened on the controls. He had made his choice.
Dominic made his way toward the ship's bridge, the crawler rumbling beneath him as it moved steadily through the wreckage. The last of the soldiers were fleeing, scrambling to escape the destruction. But none of them were fast enough.
As he neared the transport's control room, Dominic could see the silhouette of a soldier trying to make a stand at the entrance. He didn't hesitate. He fired a single shot from the crawler's turret, hitting the soldier square in the chest and sending him sprawling backward.
The door to the bridge slid open. Dominic stepped out of the crawler, his boots crunching against the broken metal as he approached the command console. He was alone now, just him and the wreckage.
He sat in the pilot's seat, hands hovering over the controls. The transport was heavily damaged, but with a little work, it could be flown again.
The heart in his pocket pulsed once more.
"You have taken what is yours. Now, take the stars."
Dominic smiled as the ship's systems powered up, the familiar hum of the engines returning to life.
He had taken the ship—and with it, the future.