Crilock Updated 🌟

“What do I owe you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

The last light of the twin sun bled across the salt flats, turning the world the color of rusted iron. Kaelen wiped a smear of grease from his forehead, leaving a dark streak on his pale skin. Beneath him, the guts of the Morrow’s Hope lay exposed—a tangle of coolant lines, cracked conduits, and the dense, humming core that kept the old hauler alive. crilock

“Talk to me, you ancient bastard,” he muttered, feeding a diagnostic pulse into the main junction. “What do I owe you

“Deal,” he said. “But you’re helping with the pre-flight.” and the dense