The grinding of machinery filled the air, steady and constant as the three cargo ships that had dropped in yesterday hummed with activity. Rows of Meeseeks hauled raw materials from storage bays into improvised processing lines, their faces fixed in silent determination. Some began outlining and building the structure. I stood on the rocky outcropping just above the camp, surveying the organized chaos with a distant sort of satisfaction.
Good. It was working.
For once, things weren't falling apart around me.
I started moving toward the ships, my boots crunching over dry ground. Each ship was assigned a leader of course the smarter, tougher versions of the usual models. The serious Meeseeks. I trusted them more than most people at this point. They didn't need to be convinced or bribed. They worked because they were built to work, and right now, that was perfect for me.
I approached the first leader, a good bit taller than me, the unit stood in his black combat suit holding his box reinforced by plating over its core. Its eyes tracked me instantly, pausing its task mid-gesture. Efficient to the end.
"You've got access to inventory now," I said, handing off a clipboard to him. "Start cataloging the shipments properly. I want a full list no assumptions. Verify every unit of raw ore, every component. If it looks suspicious, or defective pull it aside."
The Meeseeks nodded once, already relaying orders down the line.
I moved to the second ship without wasting time. Same instructions, different resources. This one was mostly metals—iron, copper, rare alloys stripped from dead systems. Good for basic construction but useless if I didn't know the quality, for some reason it's extremely common for lower grade material to get mixed in but much cheaper than earths own. The leader saluted crisply, barely needing explanation.
The third ship was quieter. Mostly biological material: soil samples, organic tech scrap, food supplies that could be processed or reengineered. I gave the same command, then added, "Also cross-reference any seeds or cloning matrices. I want a greenhouse up within the week."
Another nod. Immediate compliance.
Before turning away, I spotted the small stack of walkie-talkies clipped to the leader's belt. The upgraded models of the talkie's I had custom made back at Morty Arms strong enough to piggyback off any relay within system range.Perfect.
"Hand me one of those," I said.
The Meeseeks hesitated half a second, then unclipped one and offered it. I took it, feeling the reassuring weight settle in my palm. Scratched into the side was my personal code: a sequence only my AI recognized. No passwords, no verbal commands, just a tight, untraceable loop.
I flipped the device over, pressing the hidden panel at the back. A thin pulse of energy sparked between the antenna and my collar, syncing instantly.
"Patch through to Morty Arms," I muttered under my breath.
There was no audible confirmation, but I felt the faint vibration through the collar. Connection established.
My ship—the Cradle—was still parked where I'd left it, orbiting the shattered remains of Morty Arms' moon station. Untouched. Waiting.I thought briefly about moving the entire company HQ here, onto my new planet, where it would be safer. Closer to me.The thought spiraled for a moment, temptation threading through my mind, but I cut it off before it rooted too deep.
No.One thing at a time.I wasn't going to fall back into survival mode.I was building something better now.A life. Not just another emergency shelter with extra steps.
I pressed a second sequence into the walkie, sending the retrieval order. The Cradle would begin its jump calculations immediately, but transit would still take days. Even hyperdrives needed time when you were working across unstable sectors.
Satisfied, I clipped the walkie to my belt and turned toward the empty cargo ship, the orginal we had come in, parked at the edge of the temporary lot. It had been stripped of anything valuable, but it still had power. Enough to be a temporary command center.
And right now, it might hold what I really needed.
I climbed the loading ramp, letting the hatch seal shut behind me. The inside smelled faintly of rust and oil. Good. That meant nobody had poked around in here since we landed.I moved through the dark corridors with muscle memory more than sight, past dead screens and inert workbenches, until I found it: my satchel, thrown carelessly over a cracked control panel.
I snatched it up, the familiar weight hitting my shoulder. I rifled through quickly, checking the contents.Tools, weapon mods, freeze ray, monkey paws... and there, tucked into a side pocket, the Mirror Tracker.
I pulled it free, feeling the smooth metal surface under my fingers.One of the most powerful trackers I'd seen so far in my time in this world. It wasn't just a scanner, it actively swept for life signatures within a two-mile radius, which although short especially for what I needed had the compacity of mapping not only location but structural weaknesses of any target it detected.
A living x-ray lens.Perfect to work in tandem with my ships tracker.
I slung the satchel properly across my back, powered up the ship's control panel, and fed minimal energy into the engines. I didn't need full flight capabilities—just maneuvering thrusters to get off the ground.
As the ship rumbled awake, I opened a comm line to the other Meeseeks groups."Keep processing. Ship retrieval inbound. Stay sharp."
Their acknowledgments came back almost instantly. I trusted them to hold the line without me.
I gripped the console, steering the ship out of the makeshift landing zone and into the low orbit above the planet. The landscape below looked peaceful. Empty fields, small clusters of forests. No major threats. Beta-Seven's protection guarantees weren't a joke.
Still, old instincts gnawed at the back of my mind.I couldn't sit still. Not yet.
I booted up the Mirror Tracker, holding it out in front of me. The screen lit up with a soft chime, sending a pulse through the space around me.
Red dots blinked across the display. Tiny concentrations of life on the planet I was on, of course it was the meeseeks.I turned on the map for the cargo ship and placed it on a dock attached to the control panel grabbing a "weapon mod" from my satchel. Attaching the mirror to a port now, I zoomed out, adjusting the range.
Beta-Seven's main colony showed up almost instantly, hundreds of clustered dots flickering on a distant planet at the edge of the system. A fortress world. yet colored with yellow showing every sign of weakness within it's structure.
I banked the ship slightly, adjusting course, planning to hit every solar system around beta-seven planet.Not just to find her.Not just to plead for an alliance.
Something looser had taken root in me now.Curiosity.Adventure.
The idea of seeing new worlds, building new things, not just out of desperation, but because I could—started filling the hollow parts of my chest.
The ship's engines powered higher as I broke through orbit, stars streaking ahead in long, sharp lines.I punched in the hyperspeed coordinates manually, feeling the vibrations climb higher.
Before I made the final jump, I glanced once more at the Tracker.Unity's world wasn't on the scan yet. Not close enough.
But soon. Soon, I'd reach her.
I leaned back in the pilot's chair, letting the hyperspace tunnel stretch ahead into infinity.For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on my chest loosened a little.
The universe wasn't just something to fear or conquer.
It was something to explore.
And I was just getting ready.
Anticipation.
Not just for the mission ahead. Not just for Unity. But for everything that might come after.
Planets I'd never seen. Technologies I'd never broken apart and rebuilt. Allies and enemies waiting to be discovered.
Possibility.
I leaned back in the pilot's chair, letting the hum of the ship vibrate through my body. There was a universe out there. Untouched. Unconquered. Untamed.
And for the first time in a long time, it didn't terrify me.
It thrilled me.