Chapter 5
Jet awoke to the soft drip of condensation seeping through the ceiling crack. For once, the sound didn't fill him with dread about another soggy day scavenging for survival. Instead, a tiny ember of hope warmed his chest. Yesterday wasn't just a dream, he reminded himself. Dr. Aurora "Rory" Zhang had offered him a real, paying volunteer slot at her mobile clinic. Today would be his and Lexi's first day helping out—a chance at honest work and a step toward the "permanent home" he'd dared to imagine.
He gently pulled their threadbare blanket up over Lexi's shoulder. His thirteen-year-old sister was still asleep beside him on the old mattress they'd dragged into this derelict storeroom they called home. In sleep, Lexi's face lost the wary hardness it sometimes wore on the streets; she looked like the carefree kid she should get to be. Jet hated to wake her, but they had a big day ahead.
"Lex," he whispered, brushing a lock of dark hair from her face. "Time to get up. We don't want to be late."
Lexi stirred, blinking her big brown eyes open. For a second she looked confused—mornings usually meant hunger and uncertainty. Then she remembered, and a bright grin spread across her face. "The clinic! We're really going, huh?"
Jet nodded, unable to suppress his own smile. "Yeah. We are."
They shared a quick breakfast of yesterday's remaining nutrient bar, splitting the last bite. Lexi hummed contentedly; even a half meal was easier to face knowing more food would come later at the clinic. Jet packed their few belongings—mostly just a change of clothes for Lexi and a dented canteen—into his trusty old messenger bag. With a deep breath, he led them out of the squat into the bustle of Mega-City-Theta's morning.
The clinic was set up just a few blocks away today, in a cleared lot between leaning tenements. The large repurposed mag-lev tram gleamed with Aurora Enterprises' logo and a spray-painted mural of a sunrise. A crowd of locals had already gathered: parents with sick kids, elderly folks needing check-ups, others just hoping for a free meal from the soup station beside the medical area.
Lexi squeezed Jet's hand as they approached. She was wearing her cleanest shirt and the secondhand jacket Aurora had given her when treating her cough last week. Jet had tried to wash his own hoodie as best he could; it was still threadbare, but at least it smelled of soap rather than sewer.
Aurora spotted them and waved warmly. In daylight, the young philanthropist looked like any other volunteer in her simple jeans and clinic t-shirt—save for the sleek cybernetic prosthetic arm visible when she rolled up her sleeves. "Jet, Lexi! Glad you made it," Aurora greeted, her smile genuine. "Come on in. We're just getting started."
Inside the tram, the mobile clinic was abuzz with activity. Folding cots and screens divided the space into makeshift exam rooms. A few other workers in white aprons moved about prepping supplies. One was a petite woman with a gentle face who offered Lexi a bowl of steaming porridge the moment they stepped in.
"You must be Lexi," the woman said kindly. "I'm Mei, one of the nurses here. Eat up, sweetheart. Volunteers need their breakfast too."
Lexi looked to Jet for permission, and at his nod she accepted the bowl eagerly. "Thank you, Miss Mei!" she chirped, wasting no time digging in. Jet's stomach growled at the smell of real oats and sugar.
Aurora chuckled and handed Jet a second bowl. "You too. Can't have my new crew keeling over from hunger."
Jet hesitated—taking food felt almost foreign when he hadn't paid for it—but the look on Aurora's face brooked no argument. "Thank you," he murmured, meaning it deeply. As he savored the warm porridge, he felt the System's presence stir like static in his mind, no doubt calculating the cost-benefit analysis of this charity breakfast.
Sure enough, a dry voice echoed internally. Free food and a wage for doing good deeds? Who knew altruism could come with a meal plan. Jet had to fight back a smirk. The System rarely passed up an opportunity for sarcasm, but at least it wasn't outright protesting. In fact, it had grudgingly approved this arrangement as a solid "return on investment" yesterday.
Breakfast finished, Aurora clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Alright team, listen up! Today we'll be running basic check-ups, distributing hygiene kits, and later doing a supply run to restock medicine. Jet, Lexi – you'll be assisting Mei with outreach and helping wherever needed. Don't be shy; if you see something that needs doing, jump in."
Jet straightened, determination flaring. "We'll do our best."
Thus began their first day at the clinic. Under Mei's guidance, Jet found himself doing everything from hauling crates of nutrient packs off a supply truck to patiently entertaining a fidgety toddler while his mother got an injection. Lexi proved a quick helper too: she held bandages, fetched water, and even made an old man laugh by insisting his lollipop payment for the check-up was "doctor's orders."
Between tasks, Jet caught glimpses of Aurora moving through the crowd, her presence magnetic. One moment she was crouching to examine a child's scraped knee, the next calmly mediating when two anxious patients began arguing in line. She managed it all with steady grace that Jet couldn't help but admire.
The System, of course, provided a running commentary in Jet's head. When Jet spent ten minutes gently cleaning and bandaging a homeless man's foot wound, ignoring the stench, the AI piped up: Effort disproportionate to reward. You know you're not a real nurse, right? Jet merely sighed and continued his work, earning a grateful smile from the patient and a quiet [SYSTEM ALERT – Quest Complete: Treated a minor injury. +5 XP, +1 credit].
At one point Lexi tugged on Jet's sleeve and pointed outside the tram where a familiar lanky figure hovered near the soup line. Jet's heart skipped—it was the teen boy who had tried to mug him weeks ago, the same kid he'd given a protein bar to on the rooftop yesterday. The boy—perhaps 16 years old, with hollow cheeks and nervous eyes—shifted from foot to foot, clearly torn between hunger and pride as he eyed the soup station.
"He came," Lexi whispered. There was no malice in her voice, only empathy.
Jet handed the roll of bandages he was holding back to Mei. "I'll be right back," he said, and stepped outside to where the teen lingered.
The boy recognized him and froze. He was clutching a makeshift sling on one arm—probably an injury from some other scuffle—and looked ready to bolt.
"Hey," Jet said gently, hands open at his sides. "Glad to see you again. Hungry? They've got plenty." He gestured to the soup queue.
The teen's eyes darted. He clearly remembered pulling a knife on Jet that morning, and perhaps couldn't reconcile why Jet would be friendly now. "I…I'm not here for trouble," he mumbled.
"I know," Jet replied. He picked up a spare meal kit—a sealed pack of bread and broth—that was sitting on the serving table, and handed it over. "Take it. No strings."
For a long second, the boy didn't move. Then hunger won out; he accepted the kit with trembling fingers. "Why?" he muttered. "After what I…"
Jet offered a small smile. "Everyone deserves a second chance. Just…make sure you eat, okay? And if you need that arm looked at, the clinic's open."
The teen stared down at the food, emotion unreadable. Finally he managed, "Name's Finn."
Jet extended a hand slowly, careful not to spook him. "Jet. Nice to officially meet you, Finn."
Finn shook it awkwardly. It wasn't exactly a friendship forged, but it was a start.
As Finn slunk off to sit on the curb and devour the meal, Jet headed back in. He felt a tiny surge of satisfaction warming him. The System's voice sniffed in his mind: Giving handouts to former muggers now, are we? You really are hopeless. But it had no real bite. If anything, Jet sensed the AI's grudging acceptance—Finn wasn't currently a threat, so perhaps in the System's calculation, converting a "liability" into a neutral might even be efficient.
Hours passed in a blur of work. Jet fetched and carried until his muscles burned. Lexi bustled about cheerfully with Mei, learning how to unwrap sterile swabs and measure out vitamin drops for kids. By mid-afternoon, the clinic had quieted as the morning rush waned. Jet found himself out back stacking empty crates. He rolled his aching shoulders and realized with surprise that the pain wasn't as bad as he expected. Whether it was the regular meals of the past few days or the System's subtle enhancements, he felt a touch more resilient.
As if on cue, a familiar chime sounded in his head: [SYSTEM ALERT – Endurance +0.5 (Hard work builds hard body)]. Jet couldn't help but grin. If toiling at the clinic improved him even a little, he was all for it.
Aurora appeared beside him, wiping sweat from her brow. "You hanging in there?" she asked.
Jet set down the last crate. "Yeah. I'm good. Actually…I feel pretty great." He meant it. Tired, yes, but in a satisfying way. He could see tangible results of his labor in the relieved faces of those treated and the neatly sorted supply shelves.
Aurora leaned against the stack of crates, regarding him with kind eyes. "I've been watching you today. You have a real knack for this—helping people. You and Lexi both."
Jet's cheeks warmed at the praise. He wasn't used to compliments. "We just did little things."
"Little things matter." Aurora nodded toward the tram door, where Lexi was giggling as Mei taught her how to fold a sling. "Your sister looks happy. When she first came in last week, she wouldn't smile at all."
Jet followed Aurora's gaze. Lexi's face was lit up with that bright smile of hers as she concentrated on mimicking Mei's sling technique on her own arm. The sight filled him with pride. "She hasn't had a lot to smile about," he admitted quietly. "I'm trying to change that."
Aurora touched his shoulder lightly (her prosthetic hand, Jet noticed, cool through his shirt). "You are changing it. Listen, Jet—I know taking help isn't easy for you. You're independent, protective. But part of this gig…well, it means you and Lexi are part of our crew now, part of this little community. That means if you need something, you can ask. Food, medicine, a place to stay—whatever."
Jet opened his mouth to protest that they were fine, but Aurora raised an eyebrow. "Consider it earned. You're working hard, and this is a two-way street. Got it?"
He swallowed past a sudden tightness in his throat. How long had it been since any adult had looked out for him like this? "Got it," he said softly.
"Good." She smiled and straightened. "Now, I need a runner for a supply pickup. Think you've got enough energy left to accompany me, or should I let Lexi go in your place?"
Jet managed a laugh. "I'm coming!" The thought of letting Lexi run off on some errand alone in the city made his stomach flip. She was capable for her age, sure, but he wasn't that overworked. "Where to?"
Aurora gestured for him to follow. "Just a nearby aid station. We have some extra bandages to collect that the city's allocated for us. It's a quick trip, but an extra set of hands would help."
Jet glanced at Lexi. "Should we bring—?"
"Mei will keep an eye on her," Aurora assured. "We'll be back before you know it."
Lexi, overhearing, waved Jet off. "Go! I'll be fine. Miss Mei's teaching me stuff." She puffed up proudly, making Jet chuckle.
With that, Jet set off with Aurora through the maze of alleys toward the Public Aid Station a few blocks away. As they walked, he noticed Aurora's subtle familiarity with the area—she greeted a street vendor by name, asked a grandma on a stoop about her grandson's flu. Aurora truly cared, and people knew it.
She's quite the local celebrity, the System remarked privately. Daughter of a CEO playing Florence Nightingale in the slums. I'd bet she has PR cameras hidden somewhere.
Jet silently scolded the AI in his head. He had seen enough of Aurora's authenticity to know she wasn't in it for publicity. If anything, her father and the corporate world probably disapproved of her grassroots efforts.
Reaching the aid station—a graffiti-covered kiosk with vending machine-like dispensers for basic supplies—Aurora tapped in a code to retrieve their allocation. As Jet loaded rolls of bandages and antiseptic bottles into a sack, a notification flickered at the edge of his mind:
[SYSTEM ALERT – Quest Added: Community Courier. Safely escort Aurora and supplies back to clinic. Reward: +5 XP, +5 credits.]
Jet bit back a grin. Even the System acknowledged this simple errand as a quest. Maybe it was getting comfortable with his new daily routine too. He accepted with a thought, and they headed back.
The return walk was uneventful—the only "danger" was Aurora insisting on carrying the sack partway and Jet insisting she let him. They compromised, each taking half. By the time the clinic tram came into view again, Jet's XP had quietly ticked up and his credit balance with it.
He couldn't remember the last time a day had gone by with so little going wrong. It felt strange, but good. Don't get used to it, he warned himself. But maybe, just maybe…things are looking up.
As dusk approached, Aurora began wrapping up operations. Lexi dozed on a bench after wearing herself out helping, and Jet moved her gently so she could lean on his shoulder. Aurora's team handed out the last of the evening meals to those in need and started closing the tram's panels.
Aurora approached Jet and pressed a small cred-chip into his hand. "Stipend for the day—five credits, as promised."
Jet's eyes widened; somehow he hadn't truly expected the pay until he saw the chip's tiny display. Five whole credits for one day of doing what felt…right. He bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you. For everything."
Aurora chuckled, waving off his formality. "You earned it. And we'll do it all again tomorrow. Be here at 0800, okay?"
"We will," Jet assured, stifling a yawn. He gently shook Lexi awake. She blinked sleepily and immediately asked, "Did we do good?"
"You were amazing," Aurora said, answering before Jet could. "Get some rest, you two. I'll see you in the morning."
As Jet guided a drowsy Lexi back through the neon-tinted twilight toward their shelter, the events of the day swirled in his mind. He was exhausted, yes, but a good kind of exhausted. Lexi clutched his arm, leaning her head against him as they walked.
"Jet?" she murmured.
"Yeah?"
"I liked today. Helping people. It felt…nice."
Jet smiled into the dark. "It did."
He expected some snarky interjection from the System about the inefficiency of manual labor or the paltry credits earned, but for once the AI was quiet. Maybe even it couldn't find fault at this moment.
They reached their little storeroom and settled in for the night. With their bellies warm and a few more credits to their name, the siblings curled up under their blanket. Jet listened to Lexi's breathing even out, and allowed himself a rare moment to simply feel—the ache in his limbs, the softness of Lexi's hand in his, the cautious hope fluttering in his chest.
One day down. A better day than most. And tomorrow could be even better.
Jet closed his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, fell asleep looking forward to morning.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Jet and Lexi arrived at the clinic bright and early, ready to dive in again. The System had been unusually quiet about Jet's choice to continue volunteering—perhaps because even it couldn't deny the steady trickle of XP and credits from each good deed. By now Jet's experience points had crept up over 50, and his credit total—between System rewards and Aurora's stipend—was enough that he felt the unfamiliar weight of possibility.
After a busy first hour helping set up, Aurora gathered the team for a new task. "We've identified a few folks in the neighborhood who couldn't make it here. Some are homebound or afraid. I'd like to do a little outreach and bring supplies to them," she explained. "Jet, think you could handle a couple of house calls? Mei will give you what you need, and Lexi can go along to help."
Jet glanced at his sister, who immediately straightened with enthusiasm. "Absolutely," he said. Lexi beamed.
Mei prepared a satchel with basic meds, nutrient bars, and water filters. "There are three stops on your route," she told them. "Mrs. Hernandez in Block C – she's recovering from surgery and needs a check-in. Mr. Lee by the market – he's got limited mobility. And..." Mei paused, rifling through her notes. "Oh, and a Cara Vasquez, in the old factory lot. Young woman, recent prosthetic leg, needs follow-up and some antiseptic."
Jet memorized the names and addresses as best he could. They were all in the local sector, though the factory lot was a bit further out on the fringe of the district. "Got it. We'll be careful," he promised.
Aurora gave Lexi a quick hug before they set out. "Stay close to your brother, okay? And both of you, stay safe."
Lexi rolled her eyes fondly. "We will, Rory." She'd taken to using Aurora's nickname after hearing others do so, a sign of how comfortable Lexi felt around the doctor now.
Jet led the way, Lexi skipping a half-step behind, clutching the satchel of supplies. The lower-city streets were awake with their usual gritty energy. Street vendors shouted out breakfast deals of soy-cakes and fried insects; a tram rumbled overhead on elevated rails. Neon graffiti glinted on concrete walls where the sunlight fought to reach.
As they walked, Jet kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. Lexi was alert too, occasionally squeezing his hand if someone shadowy loomed nearby. But word seemed to have spread that Aurora's helpers were under her protection; a few tough-looking types watched them pass but didn't interfere. Or perhaps it was the simple sight of two kids carrying medical kits that disarmed any ill intent.
Their first stop, Mrs. Hernandez, lived in a crumbling apartment block. They found the elderly woman propped up in bed in a dim one-room flat. She broke into a gap-toothed smile when Jet and Lexi introduced themselves. "Rory sent you? Ay, what an angel she is. And you too, niños."
Lexi busied herself heating a small pot of soup on the stove for the woman while Jet checked her bandaged leg using the instructions Mei had given. It wasn't much more than cleaning the wound site and re-taping it, but Mrs. Hernandez declared him a "doctor in training" nonetheless, making him chuckle. As they left, she squeezed Lexi's hand and pressed a piece of hard candy into hers. "For the road, mija."
Back on the street, Lexi proudly unwrapped the candy and split it in half to share with Jet. It was strawberry-flavored, impossibly sweet on his tongue. Lexi closed her eyes as she savored her portion. "I can't remember the last time I tasted real candy," she said softly. Her eyes shone with a childlike delight that made Jet's heart ache and swell at once.
Their next delivery was to Mr. Lee, who lived in a lean-to shack behind the market stalls. The old man was gruff at first, suspicious of strangers, but when Lexi cheerfully presented him with a new set of compression wraps for his swollen knees and showed him how to apply them, his hardened expression melted. He even laughed when Lexi quipped that he'd be "dancing in no time" with the right therapy. Jet left him with a few painkillers and a promise to tell Aurora that Mr. Lee said thanks—"Not that I'm grateful or anything," the old man added hastily, which only made Lexi giggle as they departed.
As they navigated toward the last location—an abandoned factory lot by the district's edge—the surroundings grew quieter and more desolate. Rusted husks of machinery and piles of scrap metal littered the area. "This is where that Cara girl lives?" Lexi asked, wrinkling her nose at the metallic smell.
Jet double-checked Mei's notes. "It says she's in a temporary shelter at the factory lot, yes. Probably squatting, like we do."
They found Cara—a pale, tired-looking young woman maybe in her early twenties—seated on a makeshift pallet under a collapsed roof, adjusting a prosthetic leg that looked two sizes too large. She flinched when Jet and Lexi appeared, her hand twitching toward a pipe at her side.
"It's okay," Jet said quickly, raising both hands. "We're from Aurora's clinic. Rory sent us to check on you."
At the mention of Rory, Cara's guarded posture softened. "Doctor Zhang sent you?" She nodded slowly. "Alright. Come in…mind the junk." She gestured around at the cluttered space.
Lexi immediately went to Cara's side. "Are you hurt? We brought supplies." She offered a bottled antiseptic and bandages from their satchel.
Jet knelt to examine Cara's prosthetic. The leg was a standard issue cybernetic limb, probably donated. It attached just below Cara's knee, where an angry red scar marked the amputation site. The skin there was chafed and raw.
"It rubs something awful," Cara admitted, catching Jet's concerned frown. "Been meaning to get it adjusted at the clinic, but…hard to travel." Her voice held frustration and embarrassment.
"No worries, we'll help however we can." Jet handed Lexi some sterile pads. "Let's clean that up."
As Lexi gently dabbed antiseptic on the irritated skin, Cara hissed in pain but managed a tight smile at the girl. "You're pretty good at this."
"I learned from Nurse Mei," Lexi said proudly. "She's really nice. You should come see her so she can fit your leg better."
Cara sighed. "I will when I can. Thank you both… What are your names?"
"I'm Jet. This is my sister Lexi."
Cara's eyes flickered with recognition at Jet's name. "Wait, Rory mentioned you—Jet, the young man who helped at the cleanup. And Lexi, right? She said you two might be around."
Jet felt warmth creeping into his cheeks. He didn't realize Aurora had spoken about them. "We're volunteering with her now."
"Then I owe you double thanks," Cara said. "For that and this," she gestured at the fresh bandage Lexi was smoothing into place below her knee.
Suddenly, Jet's ears caught a distant whump sound, like an impact or explosion muffled by concrete. The ground faintly trembled beneath them. Cara sat upright. "What was that?"
Lexi's eyes were wide. "Something fell. Maybe…maybe a crash?"
They exchanged glances, then moved cautiously outside the derelict factory walls. In the distance, beyond a cluster of old warehouses, a plume of black smoke curled into the gray sky.
"That's not far," Jet said, heart quickening. Likely some industrial accident, but out here it could be anything.
SYSTEM ALERT – New Quest: Salvage Opportunity, the AI's sudden interjection made Jet almost jump. Source of explosion identified as downed corporate supply drone. Objective: Retrieve valuable tech or medical supplies from crash site and deliver to Aurora's clinic. Reward: +20 XP, +15 credits (bonus for intact delivery). Accept? Y/N
Jet sucked in a breath. A corporate supply drone had crashed? Those drones often carried high-value goods—medicine, tech parts—things Aurora's clinic could desperately use. His first instinct was to run straight there and help, but he forced himself to think. A downed drone could mean danger: fire, sporadic electrical discharges, or even armed security bots protecting the cargo.
He looked at Lexi. No way was he bringing her into a possibly hazardous crash scene. She seemed to realize it too, because her expression turned mulish before he even spoke.
"Lex, I need you to stay here with Cara," Jet said firmly. "That crash could be dangerous."
Lexi immediately shook her head. "I can help!"
"Lexi," Jet crouched to grip her shoulders. "Please. Just this once, listen. It might be nothing, but if it's something bad…I need to know you're safe. Cara will watch out for you." He glanced at Cara, who nodded, worry creasing her brow.
"I'll keep her here," Cara agreed. "We'll stay put until you come back."
Lexi bit her lip hard. She hated being left behind, hated feeling useless. But finally she gave a tiny nod. "You better come back. And…be careful."
Jet managed a smile he hoped was reassuring. "I will. Promise." He ruffled her hair lightly, then stood.
He turned in the direction of the smoke. The System's quest prompt still hovered at the edge of his awareness, awaiting acceptance. Jet set his jaw. "Accept Quest," he whispered under his breath.
Instantly, he felt a subtle buzz in his nerves as the System acknowledged his decision. Finally, some real action, it purred. Try not to break anything expensive out there, Bleeding Heart.
Jet didn't rise to the bait. He took off at a jog across the lot, then slipped through a gap in the chain-link fence toward the crash site, leaving Lexi and Cara watching after him.
Chapter 7
Broken concrete and twisted rebar passed under Jet's swift steps as he navigated the abandoned warehouses. The plume of smoke grew thicker. Soon, crackling flames came into view, along with the metallic wreckage of a large drone—like a giant mechanical beetle fallen from the sky.
He wasn't the only one drawn by the commotion. A few shadowy figures darted between debris piles up ahead. Scavengers, likely, quick on the scene to claim anything of value.
Jet slowed, approaching cautiously behind a fallen steel beam. The drone lay in pieces across a courtyard littered with trash. One wing still sputtered with flame. Shipping crates marked with corporate logos had spilled open, their contents glittering—electronics components, maybe, or containers of medical gel. Jackpot.
Already two scrappers were picking through the debris, a man and a woman arguing over a metal case they both clutched. Jet winced; if they fought, they might not notice the hazards around them. As if on cue, a small explosion popped from the drone's engine, sending both scrappers diving for cover.
This was dangerous. He had to secure what he could and get out.
Jet's eyes scanned for the most critical item. One crate emblazoned with a red cross had burst open, scattering vials of what looked like antibiotics. Aurora's clinic could definitely use those. He also spotted a fuel cell—likely unstable—and some drone servos that the System highlighted in his mind as valuable.
Focus on the med supplies, then profit, the System advised. The servos alone resell for 50 credits a pop.
Jet edged closer. He could likely grab the med kit box quickly. But as he prepared to sprint, someone else emerged from behind the drone's carcass, moving with catlike grace.
It was a girl, maybe his age, with short-cropped black hair and a jacket covered in pockets. She wore battered work boots and had a bandana over her nose against the smoke. In her arms was a bundle of salvage – she was already collecting the valuable servos and circuit boards, quick and efficient.
He caught a glimpse of her face as she turned and saw what he saw: the open med crate with vials scattered. Their eyes met for a split second across the wreckage.
She lunged for the crate at the same time Jet did.
He dashed in, grabbing up as many of the fragile vials as he could. The girl skidded to her knees opposite him, scooping the rest. For a heartbeat they crouched facing each other amid the wreckage, each with half the loot clutched to their chest.
"Who the hell are you?" she snapped, voice muffled slightly by her bandana.
"Jet," he coughed out through the smoke. "Volunteer…from Aurora's clinic." He didn't know why he added that last part—maybe to make clear he wasn't just a scavenger here for profit.
The girl's dark eyes narrowed. "Then you're after these for her, huh?" She nodded at the vials in his hands.
Jet nodded, rising slowly. Around them, the other two scrappers from before had noticed their presence and the valuable cache they were divvying. They were creeping closer now, eyes hungry.
"There's more coming," Jet warned in a low tone. "We should get out."
She glanced over her shoulder, clicking her tongue in irritation as the two scrappers fanned out. "Alright, Jet." She stood too, shifting her grip on her salvage bundle. "Truce until we're clear?"
"Truce," Jet agreed, relief washing over him that she wasn't going to fight him for these supplies right now.
They moved in tandem. The scrappers—one burly man with a cybernetic eye and one wiry woman wielding a rusted crowbar—blocked their path to the alley.
"Easy there," the man growled. "Just leave those goodies and walk away, kids. No one needs to get hurt."
Jet's heart thumped. He had no weapon aside from maybe a shard of drone metal at his feet. He subtly shifted to keep himself between the threat and the girl—she might have been a stranger, but she was at least not hostile to him at the moment.
"No chance," the girl muttered, clearly unwilling to surrender what she'd grabbed.
Jet clenched his jaw. "We don't want trouble," he called out, trying a placating approach. "There's more stuff in the wreck you can have. But these—" he nodded to the meds, "they're going to a clinic to help injured people."
The woman scrapper barked a laugh. "Clinic? We got injuries right here, boy. Our pockets are painfully empty."
The two advanced. Jet's mind raced. Fighting them head-on would be risky; the man was broad-shouldered and the woman's crowbar looked plenty threatening.
Time to be strategic, the System chimed in. Diversion? Or use that broken fuel cell behind them…
Jet's eyes flicked to the hissing fuel cell amid the debris near the scrappers' feet. He shouted out, "Hey, watch out—!" on instinct, too late.
The cell chose that moment to erupt in a geyser of sparks. With a whoosh, a tongue of flame shot out, making the scrappers yelp and stumble back in alarm.
"Now!" Jet hissed to the girl.
They bolted. Using the brief chaos, Jet and the girl darted around the stunned scrappers and sprinted for the alleyway. The man lunged after them, but too slow; they slipped into the narrow gap between buildings.
"Come back here!" the woman's voice echoed angrily, but neither pursued further—perhaps deterred by the continuing pops of small explosions from the crash site.
Jet didn't stop running, and neither did the girl, until they had put several winding alleys between them and the site. Finally, at a quiet corner behind a defunct vending machine, they both halted to catch their breath.
Jet gently set down the vials he'd rescued, checking none were cracked. All intact. A wave of relief hit him; Aurora would be thrilled to have these antibiotics.
The girl dropped her bundle of drone parts with a clank and ripped down her bandana, gulping air. Up close now, Jet saw she had a smudge of soot on her cheek and a small scar across her eyebrow. She fixed him with a sharp, appraising stare. "You're fast," she said finally.
"So are you," Jet replied between breaths.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment, both still on edge from the escape. Now that the immediate threat had passed, Jet wondered if she would demand the meds from him after all.
But she glanced at the vials, then at her own haul of tech bits, and shrugged. "Those will do more good at Rory's clinic than on the black market, I guess."
Jet's eyebrows rose. "You know Aurora? And the clinic?"
The girl snorted. "Everyone in Sector 8 knows Aurora Zhang, savior of the slums." Her tone was laced with mockery, but not unkind. "I swing by her soup line sometimes." She nudged her bundle with a boot. "These parts though, these will keep me fed for a month once I sell 'em."
Jet realized she was right—those servos and boards were probably worth a good amount of credits. His System certainly thought so, highlighting their black market value earlier. If she was living hand-to-mouth, this crash could be a godsend for her. And yet she hadn't tried to take the meds from him when she easily could have.
"I'm Jet," he offered again, softer this time.
She wiped her sooty hand on her jacket and extended it. "Reina."
He shook her hand. It was calloused and steady. "Thanks for the teamwork back there, Reina."
"Back at you." Reina studied him, something unreadable in her eyes. "Most scavengers would have tried to stab me in the back and take everything for themselves, clinic or not. You…didn't."
Jet looked down at the life-saving vials he held. "People need this medicine. My sister, others at the clinic… I couldn't just walk away with a profit and leave them empty-handed."
Reina folded her arms, a half-smile tugging at her lips. "A nobler motive than most. Though maybe not the smartest move, giving up valuable loot."
There it was, the cynicism Jet expected. He gave a wry grin. "The System in my head was screaming about profit, believe me."
Her eyes flicked up in confusion. "System?"
Jet realized she wouldn't know what he meant. He coughed. "Ah, I just mean my own brain, you know? Part of me wanted to grab the pricey stuff too."
"Right." Reina didn't pry further. She picked up her salvage bundle and slung it over her shoulder. "So, Jet-with-the-clinic, I guess you'll be running those meds back to Rory now?"
"Yeah. And I left my sister waiting, I need to get her." He hoped Lexi had stayed put like he asked.
"Then you better hop to it," Reina said. She hesitated, then reached into one of her many jacket pockets. "Here." She tossed something small and metal toward Jet.
He caught it reflexively—a battered but intact multitool, the kind that unfolded into pliers, a knife, and other instruments. It looked well-used but functional.
"You can give it back next time I see you," Reina said casually, already turning to leave. "Call it a loan. City's getting dangerous these days."
Jet opened his mouth to thank her, but she had already strode off down the alley, raising a hand in farewell without looking back. In a few heartbeats, she was gone around a corner, as elusive as a street cat.
He looked at the multitool in his hand and couldn't help but smile. Reina acted tough, but this was a kind gesture—perhaps an acknowledgment that he had let her walk away with the lion's share of the drone's valuables with no fight.
So you forfeited a fortune in drone parts and got…a used multitool in return, the System remarked drily. Excellent trade, hero.
Jet rolled his eyes. "Hush," he muttered, stashing the multitool in his pocket. He'd make good use of it.
The System's tone shifted to grudging respect. Quest update: salvage delivered to clinic pending. Partial altruistic action completed.
He knew what that meant—he hadn't completed the quest exactly as the System had framed it. He saved the crucial supplies but let the profit go. He expected a scolding, maybe even a reduced reward.
As Jet retraced his steps to the factory lot to collect Lexi and Cara, a chime sounded:
[SYSTEM ALERT – Quest Complete (Partial): Medical supplies secured for clinic. Reward: +10 XP, +0 credits. Efficiency opportunity missed – additional rewards forfeited.]
The bold text of the System's voice carried a note of annoyance on that last part. Jet shrugged it off. He could live without the extra credits. The 10 XP was a welcome boost at least. And more importantly, the people at the clinic would get the medicine they needed.
Rounding the corner back to Cara's makeshift shelter, Jet spotted Lexi pacing anxiously while Cara sat nearby watching her. The moment Lexi saw Jet, she broke into a run towards him.
"You're okay!" she cried, relief and anger warring on her face. She threw her arms around him, nearly making him drop the box of vials.
"Easy, Lex! I'm fine," Jet laughed softly, hugging her tight with one arm while steadying the crate with the other. Over his sister's shoulder he mouthed a thanks to Cara, who smiled back.
Lexi pulled away and looked him over, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You got soot all over you... And what's that?" She noticed the crate.
"Medicine," Jet said proudly. "Antibiotics, I think. From a crashed supply drone. They'll help a lot of people."
Lexi's annoyance at being left behind faded into pride. "Really? That's amazing!"
Cara struggled up on her feet, balancing on her prosthetic. "We heard some booms. Figured you had found trouble."
"Just a minor disagreement with other scavengers," Jet said lightly, not wanting to worry Lexi further.
He then explained in brief how he wasn't alone—that a scavenger named Reina had been there and that they'd escaped together. At Reina's name, Cara raised her eyebrows. "Reina…short girl, leather jacket, tough attitude?"
Jet nodded. "You know her?"
"By reputation. She's a fixture in these parts. Good at what she does, and not a total shark like some. Sounds like you made an ally."
Jet hadn't thought of it that way yet. "Maybe," he smiled.
They escorted Cara partway back toward the more populated blocks, making sure she could manage. Jet urged her again to come to the clinic soon for a proper fitting on her prosthetic. Cara promised she would.
As they said their goodbyes, she gave Jet a pointed look. "Be careful out here. Not everyone will appreciate what you do for the community—some see it as stirring up trouble or making them look bad. Just watch your back."
Jet understood. In a place where kindness was scarce, his actions might draw envy or hostility from those who thrived on others' misery. "I will."
With Lexi's small hand tucked in his and the precious crate of meds under his arm, Jet headed back to Aurora's clinic. The sun was high and scorching now, sweat trickling down his neck, but he felt exhilarated. Lexi chattered excitedly at his side about how they were going to surprise Rory with the new supplies.
Despite the System's grumbling about missed profit, Jet felt the corners of his mind tingling with satisfaction. This was what the power he'd been given was for—not chasing credits, but making a real difference, one little victory at a time.
He gave Lexi a warm grin as she skipped over a puddle. "You know what? I think we did good today."
She grinned back, that gap-toothed smile making all his effort worth it. "Yeah, we did!"
They quickened their pace, eager to return home—no, not just home, to their community—with hope burning brighter than the midday sun.
Chapter 8
The following day at the clinic dawned calm and bright. News of Jet's daring supply recovery had already spread among the volunteers. Aurora greeted him in the morning with an expression of gratitude and mild reproach. "Next time, please let us know before charging into danger," she said, though the proud smile on her face undermined any scolding.
Jet ducked his head sheepishly. "Sorry. It all happened so fast… I didn't want to waste time."
Aurora patted his shoulder. "I'm just glad you're alright. And thanks to you, we have a stock of antibiotics that might save lives." She gestured to a cabinet where the vials Jet retrieved were now neatly stored. "In fact, we already started one little girl on a dose this morning. She came in with a bad leg infection. If not for those meds…"
Jet followed her gaze to a corner of the tram where Mei was crouched beside a frail girl of about seven, encouraging her to swallow a spoonful of medicine. The child's weary mother murmured endless thanks. Warmth bloomed in Jet's chest as he realized the tangible impact of yesterday's quest. A dangerous gamble had turned into real hope for that family.
Finally, some ROI on that stunt, the System chimed in, though its tone lacked its usual bite. Antibiotics aren't cheap—Aurora's ledger must be singing.
Jet chose to interpret that as the AI's version of approval. "Just doing what needed doing," he thought back with a hint of humor.
Lexi, meanwhile, had become a fixture at Mei's side, helping wherever she could. Jet saw her approach the little girl with a sticker in hand—a colorful butterfly. Lexi gently placed it on the girl's bandaged leg, earning a giggle. The sight made Jet smile. His sister was thriving here; she had purpose and friends and safety, at least for now.
By late afternoon, the clinic's work wound down early in preparation for a special event. Aurora's team had planned a modest community gathering that evening—a way to build morale and celebrate a successful week of outreach. Word had spread, and as dusk fell, residents of the neighborhood drifted into the cleared lot by the clinic tram. Someone strung up recycled lanterns that cast a warm glow. A busker from two streets over arrived with an old guitar, plucking gentle music into the night air.
Jet found himself in an unfamiliar state: relaxed. He leaned against the tram with Lexi as a small crowd mingled. There were laughing children chasing each other, exhausted workers easing onto benches with bowls of stew provided by Aurora's soup volunteers, and clusters of elders gossiping contentedly. For once, no one seemed in crisis.
Mei passed by with a tray of steaming tea, pressing a cup into Jet's hands. "Here you go, hero," she teased lightly. "Chamomile. You've earned a rest."
Jet felt his cheeks warm at the casual endearment. "Thanks, but I'm no hero," he mumbled, looking down at the fragrant tea.
Mei tilted her head, her gentle eyes studying him. "You kind of are, you know. Aurora told me what you did yesterday. And I saw how you handled that medbot glitch this morning."
Jet had almost forgotten the small incident earlier: a diagnostic med-drone had misfired a spark, startling a baby. He'd calmly shut it off before anyone was hurt. Hardly heroics, but Mei insisted on singing his praises.
"If you hadn't hit the emergency switch so fast, that could have been a nasty burn," Mei continued. "You have good instincts."
"Just quick reflexes, that's all," Jet said, embarrassed but pleased by her approval.
Across the way, Lexi observed this exchange with a growing smirk. As Mei moved on to offer tea to someone else, Lexi sidled up to Jet. "Miss Mei gave you the special treatment again, big brother," she sing-songed under her breath. "She liiiikes you."
Jet nearly choked on his sip of chamomile. "Lex," he groaned, shooting her a warning look. His sister merely giggled.
"What? It's true. She's always checking on you, and she smiles a lot when you're around," Lexi whispered impishly.
Jet shook his head, trying to hide the flush creeping up his neck. "She's just being nice. Nurses care about everyone."
"Mhm." Lexi didn't look convinced. "If you say so."
He ruffled her hair to distract her, earning a protest. "Shouldn't you be playing with the other kids instead of pestering me?" he joked.
Lexi stuck her tongue out but then did glance toward a group of children who were kicking a scuffed holo-soccer ball around. Her eyes lit up. "Maybe… Will you be okay if I go?"
Jet mustered an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. "I don't know, I might cry if you leave my side."
She punched his arm lightly. "Stooop." With a laugh, she dashed off to join the other kids, her ponytail flying behind her. In seconds she was immersed in their game, her laughter ringing out louder than the rest.
Jet watched her with a heart full of contentment. Moments like this—Lexi simply being a carefree kid—made every hardship worth it.
He sipped his tea and let his gaze wander. On the far side of the lot, he spotted Finn hovering alone near the fence, looking uncertain. The wiry teen had shown up quietly to the gathering, drawn perhaps by the promise of stew or just the atmosphere. Finn caught Jet's eye and gave a shy half-wave.
Jet beckoned him over. Finn shuffled through the crowd and accepted a cup of tea that Jet offered. They stood in companionable silence for a minute, listening to the soft strum of the guitar and the murmur of conversations.
"How's the arm?" Jet asked gently, nodding toward the sling Finn still wore.
Finn shrugged. "Better. Miss Mei fixed me up good yesterday. Said I sprained my shoulder, nothing broken." He flexed his fingers, grimacing slightly. "Feels less sore today."
"Glad to hear it." Jet hesitated, then added, "You know…you could stick around. Help out at the clinic more regularly. We always need extra hands."
Finn glanced up, eyes wary with disbelief. "Me? Volunteer? I… I wouldn't know what to do."
"You learn on the job," Jet said, bumping Finn's elbow amicably. "And it comes with food." He pointed to the stew pot, where seconds were being served.
At that, Finn cracked a tiny smile. "Food and I get to not be on the streets for a while? Sounds like a good deal."
"It is," Jet agreed. He didn't push further, but the invitation hung in the air. Finn seemed to mull it over, his posture just a bit less guarded than when Jet first met him.
After a while, Finn spoke up quietly, "Those gang guys…the ones I ran with before. They've been eyeing this place. I heard 'em talking about how Aurora's crew is making 'em look bad, giving stuff out for free." His voice was hushed, troubled.
Jet's contentment dimmed slightly. He followed Finn's gaze to where Aurora was laughing with an elderly couple. "The Iron Sharks?" Jet guessed, naming the local gang known to recruit desperate teens like Finn.
Finn nodded. "Yeah. They…they haven't forgotten that you embarrassed a couple of their boys during the cleanup event. And now, seeing you all cozy with the doc, handing out aid… They're jealous, I guess. And angry."
A muscle in Jet's jaw tightened. He remembered the shove and threats from those thugs weeks ago when he'd stood up to them to protect a younger kid. He thought they'd slunk off for good, but maybe not. "Did you hear them plan something?"
Finn kicked at a pebble. "Just talk, so far. Stuff like maybe raiding the clinic stores, or teaching you a lesson. Could be just talk. But…" He met Jet's eyes earnestly. "Be careful, okay? They think you've gone 'corp pet' working for Aurora. They might try to make an example."
Jet inhaled slowly, forcing calm into his mind even as the System flared with alarmed calculations in the back of his head. "Thanks for telling me, Finn."
The other boy shrugged and looked away, uncomfortable with the seriousness. "I owe you one. Figured I should warn you."
Jet clapped him gently on the back. "You don't owe me anything. Just stick around and stay out of trouble, alright?"
Finn nodded. They fell silent as the guitar player switched to a livelier tune. A few of the braver souls in the crowd started clapping to the rhythm, and Lexi and the other kids abandoned their game to dance around the lantern-lit lot in a fit of giggles. The sight melted away some of Jet's worry.
"Hard to imagine anyone wanting to mess this up, huh?" Jet said softly, more to himself than to Finn.
Finn swallowed. "The Sharks…they're not all bad, but they feel like they have to be in control. Aurora's kindness, your kindness—it scares them. Makes them feel weak. People might stop fearing them if they trust you and Aurora instead."
Jet nodded slowly. The System mulled that over in his mind. Power dynamics 101, it commented. Your altruism threatens their little monopoly on influence. If they do attack, it'll be a foolish miscalculation.
"Maybe," Jet replied inwardly.
The music drifted on, and Jet forced himself to stay in the present, enjoying what was good in this moment. He refused to let the warning completely spoil the night. After all, nothing had happened yet. He would stay alert, take precautions. Perhaps he could quietly ask Aurora about hiring a guard or storing supplies more securely.
For now, he savored the rest of the gathering. He even let Lexi drag him into a clumsy dance with the other kids, her laughter infectious as he pretended to know the steps. Finn eventually relaxed enough to accept a second bowl of stew and chat quietly with a few of Aurora's volunteers, no longer hovering alone.
By the end of the evening, Jet felt as full of hope as he had ever been. Despite the shadow of Finn's warning, he had faith that their little community was growing stronger, tight-knit enough to weather whatever came next.
As he helped pack up chairs and douse the lanterns, Jet looked around at the smiling faces saying warm goodnights. Lexi was sleepy against his side, and Finn had offered to walk partway with them to ensure they got home safe—an unnecessary gesture in Jet's mind, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Community. Crew. Family. He had those now, in a way he never had since their parents were gone.
The System remained conspicuously silent, as if also soaking in the rare peace. Or, more likely, silently running risk assessments and tallying how much Jet's reputation had grown tonight. Either way, Jet allowed himself a small, hopeful grin.
Tomorrow was a new day, and though the future was uncertain, he wouldn't face it alone.