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She began carefully clearing debris from around it, the metal hard and jagged under her fingers.

The robot was unlike anything she'd seen before-dented and scorched in places, yet was more complex than anything she d ever seen.

Dust and corrosion coated most of its surface, but underneath, she glimpsed a sleek design.

How long had it been here? Trapped and hurt?

"Don't worry," she told it, working quickly. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"Mira!"

Davis's voice cut through her concentration, sharp with anger and something else-concern?

Hey! I m over here!" she called over her shoulder, continuing to clear parts away from the robot.

Heavy footsteps approached rapidly, metal clanging under large boots. Then Davis was there, looming over her.

"Get away from that thing!" he barked, his hand dropping to the gun at his hip.

The robot shrank away, pulling its legs in protectively with a distressed whir.

"Wait!" She threw herself in front of it, arms spread wide. "Don't shoot it!"

His eyes widened in disbelief. What the fuck are you doing? Move. Now."

"No!" She held her ground, heart hammering so hard she was sure he could hear it. Please. It's not dangerous. It's hurt."

"It's not hurt, it's damaged," he snapped, but yanked his gun away and pointed it at the ground. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "And you have no idea what it's capable of."

"It waved at me! It asked for help."

He stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "It's a machine, Mira. It doesn't 'ask' for anything."

"This one did." She turned slightly, looking at the robot while staying between it and Davis so that Davis couldn't shoot it. "Show him. Wave again."

The robot hesitated, its eyes flicking between her and Davis. Then, slowly, it extended a leg and waved, giving a soft chirp that sounded almost like a question.

Davis's expression shifted from disbelief to wariness. "That's just a programmed response to stimuli."

"Bullshit," she shot back. "Ask it a question. Anything."

"Fine." Davis's jaw tightened. "Robot. Are you damaged?"

The leg moved up and down twice-the same gesture it had used to answer Mira's questions. A low, mechanical sound followed, like a negative hum.

"What the hell?"

"See?" she said, voice softening. "It understands. I'm not leaving it here."

"We're not taking unknown tech back to the ship. He shook his head. "Especially not active unknown tech."

"Then I guess I'm staying here too." She folded her arms. She wasn't backing down-not from this, not from him.

He studied her for a long moment, then sighed.

"You're just like my sister," he grumbled. "She was always rescuing hurt birds and bringing them home."

Holstering his weapon, he moved to help her, carefully shifting larger pieces of debris.

The robot watched them both, its functioning eyes tracking their movements with what she could have sworn was cautious hope. It hummed helpfully, as though encouraging them, trying to drag itself from the hole when it could get purchase.

She clicked her teeth at it. Stay still, you ll only hurt yourself even more.

It stopped, looking up at her and chirping softly.

"Thank you," she said quietly, not looking at Davis.

He didn't reply, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.

As they uncovered more of the robot, she caught her breath.

The unfamiliar tech was unlike anything she'd worked with before, but she could make educated guesses about which components might house processing units or power systems based on their placement and connections.

Every inch they revealed showed more sophisticated engineering beneath the damage.

"Latharian tech," Davis said quietly, examining one of the exposed components with a frown.

"And everything Latharian is military. This looks like some kind of specialized unit.

I think this is only the base module. Look here, it looks like other parts are supposed to attach to it.

The legs as well. There are connectors on the end for something else.

Her heart sank. Military tech meant danger-and danger meant he d never agree to bring it aboard.

"It's not aggressive," she argued. "Look at it. It's scared."

The robot had indeed pulled its remaining legs in close to its body core, its visual array dimmed as if trying to make itself smaller.

Davis frowned deeply. "This could be a problem." He tapped his comm unit. "Tell to Ryke."

After a brief pause, the Reaper leader s voice came through both their comms. "Go ahead."

She caught Davis's eyes, silently pleading. If he told Ryke that they'd found Latharian military tech, even just a little bit like this, then Ryke never allow it on the ship. She reached out, her hand on Davis's forearm, fingers pressing into the muscle there.

Davis held her gaze for a long moment, then sighed. "We found some additional parts for the secondary shield array. Buried pretty deep. We're extracting them now."

"Good. Finish up soon. We've got most of what we need." The comm clicked off.

Mira released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "You lied for me."

Davis's expression remained carefully neutral, but something shifted in his eyes. "I lied for the robot. Seemed like the logical thing to do."

A smile threatened at the corners of her mouth. "Of course. For the robot."

Working together, they used scrap metal to create a makeshift stretcher. The robot chirped occasionally, like it was offering suggestions even though they couldn't understand what it was saying.

As they prepared to move it, she glanced at Davis, noticing how his usually hard expression had softened slightly as he carefully worked with the broken machine, his hands surprisingly gentle for their size.

The robot's eyes swiveled toward her, and she could have sworn one of them dimmed and brightened again-an artificial wink. She grinned and winked back.

In her short time with the Reapers, this was the first time she'd felt like she'd done something truly her own. Something that mattered, even if it was just saving a broken robot from the scrap heap.

It felt like a beginning.

* * *

Davis watched as the small team unloaded the salvage they'd recovered from the junkyard from the combat shuttle into the main cargo bay of the Dream.

Mira carefully guided her wrapped bundle down the ramp on a grav-lift, navigating around the other crew members as they hauled scrap metal and parts toward the cargo bay's sorting area.

Her movements were stiff and protective like she was carrying something valuable rather than junk.

He carried on sorting coils of wire that looked just like all the other lengths of cabling they already had in the stores.

There was something about the spiraling pattern on this lot, though, that Anson insisted was better, so coil more cable he did.

All while trying to watch the petite little woman without appearing to watch her.

They'd managed to keep the little robot concealed in the rest of the scrap to get it back to the ship. He'd been concerned that it would chirp and give itself away, but Mira had told it to be quiet, and it had hunkered down, dimming the lights in its functional "eyes."

He glanced over his shoulder. No one had noticed her. Not yet.

Ryke and Rann were busy cataloging the haul, with Covak and Anson handling the heavier pieces. Jesh and Jex stood near the control panel, discussing something in low voices.

Mira caught his eye and gave him a small, conspiratorial smile. He nodded back, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through his chest. The fact that she seemed to trust him after the way they'd met still surprised him.

"Let's see what you've got here, little human," Ryke said, moving toward her bundle. "You've been guarding that pile of scrap like it contains the coordinates to the Imperial vault."

"Wait-" Davis started as Ryke reached for the covering, but it was too late.

The covering fell away, revealing the small robot they d recovered from the scrapyard. Its optical sensors flickered to life, emitting a soft blue glow as it took in its surroundings.

The reaction was instant and terrifying.

Every Reaper with Latharian blood went on high alert. Weapons suddenly appeared in hands that had been empty a split second before. The robot found itself staring down the barrels of four guns, all trained on its core with deadly accuracy.

"No, wait!" Mira squeaked, throwing herself in front of her little robot.

Davis didn't think, he just moved. One moment he was standing back; the next he'd put himself between her and all the weapons, his hands raised.

"Hold on," he said, keeping his voice calm. "Everyone just hold on."

Ryke's eyes were cold and hard, his mouth a thin line. "Tell me why the draanthing hell you've brought something so dangerous onto my ship."

He blinked, looking between the armed Reapers and the small robot cowering behind Mira. "Dangerous? It's barely even functional."

"It's just a little robot," Mira protested, peeking around his shoulder. "It's damaged. Look at it!"

"What exactly are we looking at?" Jesh asked as she and Jex moved closer, her eyes narrowed as she assessed the small machine.

The Reaper leader gestured toward the robot with his weapon. "That's the central core for a drakeen."

Davis s stomach dropped. A drakeen? He'd heard of them in stories about Imperial warriors, but he'd never seen one up close.

"What's a drakeen?" Mira leaned in against his back to whisper.

"They're combat-bots that the Lathar use," he said over his shoulder. "But the ones I've seen in recordings are a lot bigger."

"They're piloted by the most experienced warriors," Ryke added, "but they're capable of running on their own."

But it's not dangerous," Mira insisted. "It's damaged and small."

The robot chirped softly behind her, as if agreeing.