The Fractured Empire: A Tale of Downfall

Chapter 11

(Three days later...)

"How are repairs coming?" I prompted my partner, only to flinch when a wrench bounced off my helmet. Thank god I decided to put that on as a precaution...

"Um...do you want me to be honest with you?"

"You tell me," I growled.

Boreas sighed before he looked down at me. He was currently suspended mid-air through the use of a harness, and I was there to act as a counter-weight so he wouldn't come tumbling down the elevator shaft.

"To be perfectly honest with you, the electronics in this shaft are completely fucked," he answered, "The other elevator had some components intact, but this one is trashed."

"If we only have one elevator to work with, I don't mind. Besides, there's stairs. If people complain, they can deal with it."

"That's the thing: people are complaining, and Jackson wants to hear none of it," Boreas snapped back, "So, naturally, he tasked me with fixing this piece of shit. Tyr! How's it going on your end?"

Faint grunts could be heard before the mechanic responded. "The pulley system up here is utter dogshit! If I didn't know any better, the original owner of this outpost barely serviced their hardware!"

"Sure seems that way," my partner grumbled, "Just, um, just to be sure: the elevator car isn't going to come tumbling down on us, right?"

"Don't you worry your little head, Boreas! It's still attached to its cables. All I'm trying to do is repair the pulleys so it won't crush you and Cylus."

"Gee, how comforting," he squeaked.

We've spent the past two hours working on this, and I had a feeling we wouldn't be done anytime soon. With a groan, I bent my head back and closed my eyes while holding onto the rope that's keeping my partner in the air.

Another two hours passed by before Boreas ordered me to slowly bring him back down.

"I did what I could," was all he said before I started to relax my death-grip on the black nylon rope.

Several tense moments passed by until my partner touched down on solid ground.

"You definitely chose the right type of rope," Boreas began, rolling his shoulders as we climbed out of the elevator shaft, "There was no fraying, and I wasn't afraid of falling to my death."

I patted him on the shoulder and felt a chuckle rumble through my chest. "Please, I wouldn't have dropped you even if I wanted to. If anything, Vik would've saved you again."

"Again?"

"He told me about your little stunt in Ryderos. I'm just glad he acted when he did."

My partner visibly deflated while I continued to laugh. Since we had just finished working, we were both naturally hungry. Before I knew it, we were seated at the table my crew had claimed in the mess hall.

"Huh," Boreas mused as his gaze swept through the room, "Someone's been busy."

I chuckled. "I'm guessing one of the younger Silver Foxes got their hands on spray paint and decided to decorate the walls."

"Hey, I'm not complaining. I'm impressed the paint stayed on the walls in the first place. As far as I'm concerned, spray paint doesn't exactly adhere well to steel."

"Depends on the quality of the paint," I answered, studying the ever-changing, vivid designs that danced across the once-bland walls, "No one seems to be raising a ruckus about it."