Slumdog Hero

The alarm woke Fii from the first decent sleep she'd had in days. Not the shrill emergency klaxon she'd grown accustomed to, but a different tone—urgent but controlled, the kind that meant important news rather than immediate danger.

She found most of Haven's population already gathered in the main chamber when she arrived, still pulling on borrowed clothes. The atmosphere crackled with tension, voices overlapping in heated discussion. Soren stood at the center near her carved map, holding what looked like a message tablet.

"—can't ignore an opportunity like this," someone was saying. "When's the next time we'll see a cache that size?"

"If we can even reach it," another voice countered. "The zone's crawling with phase-shifters. Three expeditions have tried in the past year. None came back."

Fii caught Luke's eye across the crowd. He jerked his chin toward Soren, mouthing "salvage site." Serena stood near the tech crew, golden light playing absently around her fingers—a nervous habit she'd developed.

Soren raised her hand for quiet. "For those just joining us, we received word from the Dune Walker collective about a significant find. Corporate transport went down in Sector 7, full manifest. Medical supplies, power cells, fabrication equipment. Enough to keep us running for six months, maybe more."

An excited murmur rippled through the room.

"What's the catch?" Vera asked from near the wall. The scarred scout's question cut through the buzz of conversation.

"It's in the heart of the Shimmer. Active zone, class four distortions. The transport didn't crash—it got pulled through a tear, came out damaged but mostly intact." Soren's finger traced a location on the map that made several people wince. "The Dune Walkers lost two scouts just getting close enough to confirm the cargo."

A stocky man near the front crossed his arms. "The whole thing's probably a decoy. Rust Jackals must have tagged the convoy, staged the crash."

"If it was the Rust Jackals," Soren countered, "they'd be hawking the goods to the highest bidder, not sending out feelers for partners."

"She's got a point," someone else chimed in. "Jackals aren't exactly subtle. If they had the cache, we'd have heard about it."

The room erupted in debate. Voices rose, people talking over each other, gesturing at the map. Some argued for caution, others for immediate action. Throughout it all, Soren stood quietly, letting the conversations play out. Luke caught Fii's eye and sidled over to her.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I don't know," Fii said. "Salvage could mean long-term survival for these people. But the risks..."

"Yeah. Could go south fast." Luke shook his head.

Serena joined them, looking unimpressed by all the bickering. "You two realize we'll end up in the middle of this mess no matter what they decide, right?"

Fii sighed. "Probably."

"We can't survive another year scrounging for scraps," Marcus called out from the tech section. "Lost three generators, two filtration units. If something goes wrong with the main water recycler—"

"Better to die slow than fast," interrupted an older man Fii didn't recognize. "At least dying slow gives us time to find another solution."

"What other solution?" Vera's voice cut through the argument. "We've mapped every salvage site within a hundred kilometers. This is it. This is what we've been scraping by to find."

Soren let the debate run for several minutes before raising her hand again. The voices died gradually, reluctantly.

"The Dune Walkers offered to share intelligence in exchange for a thirty percent cut of any salvage. They're not willing to risk their own people, but they'll provide maps, Shimmer readings, phase-shifter movement patterns."

"Thirty percent of nothing is still nothing," someone muttered.

Tev stepped forward from where he'd been leaning against the wall. "What kind of numbers are we talking? For a full expedition?"

"Minimum twenty people to have any chance of success. More would be better, but we can't spare more." Soren's gaze swept the assembled crowd. "Which means pulling people from essential duties. Risking not just the expedition team, but Haven's basic operations."

The room fell silent, the implications clear. Even a failed attempt would leave Haven vulnerable, but not trying might ultimately doom them anyway.

Fii found herself speaking up, surprising even herself. "What's the timeline?"

Soren's attention shifted to her. "Transport won't last long exposed to Shimmer distortions. Another week, maybe two before the cargo degrades beyond usefulness. After that, we're looking at scrap metal and component parts."

"And the Netherlings? Er... I mean, phase-shifters?"

"Getting bolder. The Dune Walkers think they're establishing some kind of territory around the site. Longer we wait, the more entrenched they become."

Fii absorbed that information, letting it settle in her mind. Twenty people moving through hostile territory where reality itself wasn't reliable. Half would need to be fighters, the other half technical specialists to handle salvage operations. Against an unknown number of creatures that could phase through conventional defenses.

"It's suicide," the stocky man murmured. "We'd be throwing away our best people for cargo that might not even exist anymore."

"The Dune Walkers confirmed visual on the containers," Soren replied. "Cargo's real. Question is whether we can reach it."

Luke stepped forward, that Guardian authority sliding into his posture like armor. "What kind of defensive perimeter are we talking about around the site?"

"Unknown. The Dune Walkers couldn't get close enough for detailed reconnaissance." Soren traced the map with her finger. "But based on their limited observations, we're looking at coordinated pack behavior. Intelligent placement around choke points."

Fii felt something cold settle in her stomach. The Netherlings they'd fought had been learning, adapting their tactics with each encounter. If a whole pack had been studying the site for weeks...

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"We could help," Serena said suddenly. The words dropped into the quiet like stones into still water.

Every head in the room turned toward her. She straightened under the attention, hard-light constructs flickering brighter around her hands.

"I can create barriers they can't phase through. Mobile ones. Luke can handle close combat better than anyone here." Her gaze found Fii. "And we've got experience with these things."

"You're volunteering?" Soren's tone carried no pressure, just careful interest.

"We're offering," Luke corrected. "You've taken us in, shared resources, treated our wounds. That creates obligations."

The word sat heavy in the chamber. Obligations. Not heroic duty or noble purpose, but the simple debt that came from being cared for when you were broken.

Fii found herself studying the faces around her—people who'd become familiar over the past week. Marcus, whose eyes lit up whenever he talked about tech. Vera, who'd shared stories of her lost squad around the evening fires. Tev, who'd sat by her bedside during the worst of the phase sickness.

"My abilities are still compromised," she said, the admission scraping against her pride. "I can't guarantee I won't make things worse."

"Can you guarantee you won't make them better?" Soren asked.

The question hung in the air. Fii flexed her fingers, feeling the muted response of her gravikinesis. Like trying to thread a needle wearing thick gloves. But still there, still functional.

"I can contribute. Just... not the way I used to."

"Then we're going," Luke said with military finality.

The room exploded again, but the energy had shifted. Instead of debating whether to attempt the mission, voices overlapped with logistics concerns, team composition, equipment needs. The decision had crystallized around their offer, three outsiders tipping the balance toward action.

Over the next hour, Haven transformed into a planning center. Maps spread across every flat surface. Equipment inventories emerged from storage. The expedition began taking shape—fifteen fighters, five tech specialists, traveling light with maximum mobility.

Fii found herself at a planning table with Vera and two other scouts, analyzing approach routes through terrain that looked designed to kill travelers. The scarred woman's knowledge was practical, earned through loss and near-death experiences.

"Sector 7's broken country," Vera explained, marking elevation changes on a hand-drawn map. "All ridges and box canyons. Easy to get turned around even without Shimmer distortions."

"What about vehicle access?" Luke asked, joining their huddle.

"Here." Vera tapped a point roughly twenty kilometers from the target. "After that, it's foot travel. Distortions play hell with guidance systems, and the terrain's too rough for wheels."

Fii studied the topographical markings, trying to visualize the gravitational landscape. Broken country meant complex mass distributions—ridges and valleys creating local anomalies that might mask or amplify Shimmer effects. Her powers, even limited, could provide navigational advantages.

"Two days in, unknown time on site, two days out," she summarized. "Minimum four days in hostile territory."

"If everything goes perfect," Vera said dryly. "Which it won't."

As the expedition planning accelerated, Fii stepped back to view the entire room. The once-still caverns were alive with movement.

Tech crews dismantled solar panels and water filtration systems, packing them for transport. Scouts marked routes and fallback points on hand-drawn maps. The fighters, those who lived and died by violence, sharpened their blades and checked their weaponry.

She understood, then, something of what drove them. Not just the need for survival, but the defiance. The choice to step out into the heat rather than wait for the world to decide.

The slums were kind of like that, too. Everyone surviving day-to-day, but also fighting for something beyond just being alive tomorrow. For some, it was family and community. For others, it was simply the dignity of choosing one's own fate.

She saw that same spark here, in these people so different yet so familiar.

She rolled up her sleeves. "Tell me where I can help."

The next eighteen hours blurred together in a haze of preparation. Fii spent most of it with the tech crew, helping wherever she could. Even her limited powers came in handy during a frantic round of field testing salvaged equipment. She used gravikinesis to simulate the shocks and vibrations the gear might face during the expedition, helping pinpoint structural weaknesses and faulty connections.

Soren's words stayed with her. No longer "if" she regained her full strength, but "when." And she found herself believing it too—the idea that the return of her powers was inevitable, not contingent. It freed up space in her head, allowed her to focus on the tangible issues at hand without the looming dread of permanent powerlessness.

While they worked, the expedition took shape around them. Vera coordinated with the other scouts, mapping routes and contingencies. Luke drilled with the fighters, adding his military expertise to their scavenged practical knowledge. Serena flitted between groups, playing diplomat and mediator wherever tempers frayed.

Fii watched her move through the crowded cavern, gliding from argument to debate to brainstorming session, always ready with a smile and a quip. She seemed like a different person here than the prickly, arrogant girl Fii knew, like someone had cracked open her shell and found a beating heart beneath.

Despite everything, Fii realized she was starting to like Serena. Not just tolerate, but actually respect. She wondered if Serena noticed the change as well.

"Don't you ever get tired?" Fii asked Serena when they finally passed each other during a brief break.

Serena quirked an eyebrow, a half-smile curving her lips. "Would you believe me if I said no?"

"I'd call you a liar."

"You're probably right. But I can fake it till I make it."

Fii grinned despite herself. "Still maintaining the ice queen persona, I see."

"It's all about personal branding." Serena waved a hand airily, but Fii thought she detected a note of real pride beneath the sarcasm. "But seriously, I've had a lot of practice projecting a certain image. And I find I sleep better when I know I've left everything out on the field."

"Admirable. If a bit extreme."

"Not extreme. Motivated." Serena's expression softened for a moment. "Take it from me, there are few things worse than regret."

"You sound experienced."

"I've learned some hard lessons." She laughed, but the sound was oddly brittle. "Fortunately, I'm excellent at pretending to be more in control than I actually am."

"And how does that work out for you? Pretending."

"Depends on the day. Sometimes it feels like holding the world together with sheer force of will." Serena leaned against the cavern wall, looking out over the bustling preparations. "Other times, I lie awake at night wondering when everything's going to fall apart."

"But it hasn't yet."

"Not for lack of trying." Serena's smile seemed genuine now, tinged with self-deprecation. "Though lately... I don't know. Things feel different. The edges aren't so sharp."

"What do you think changed?"

"Isn't it obvious? You did."

Fii started, nearly dropping the scanner she was recalibrating. Serena watched her, amusement flickering behind her eyes.

"I... what? Me? How did I change anything?"

"Well, for starters, you ruined my perfect track record." Serena's tone was light, but Fii sensed the serious core beneath the humor. "I'd never lost before you showed up."

"You're welcome?"

"Also, being captured and tortured wasn't exactly part of my life plan." A shadow crossed her face, there and gone in an instant. "But even after all that... it feels like something unlocked inside me." She tapped her chest, just above her heart. "I don't know if it's growth or trauma or some weird combination of both. But whatever it is, I'm not fighting it."

"You're kind of scaring me."

"Good. You should be scared. Because I'm coming after your title next time we face off." But Serena was smiling, her expression open and challenging all at once. "Deal with it, Axion."

Fii snorted. "Big talk for someone who got her ass handed to her."

"Oh, please. I went easy on you."

"Yeah, sure."

Serena pushed off the wall, grinning now. "Believe what you want. I'll prove it next time."

"Looking forward to it."

As Serena walked away, Fii realized she was looking forward to it. Not just the rematch, but the entire messy, complicated relationship they seemed to be constructing step by awkward step. It wasn't friendship, not exactly, but it was something closer than rivalry.

Closer to camaraderie. And maybe, just maybe, closer to understanding.