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UNIVERSE OF CONFLICT

Chapter 0ne Another Day...

It was near the break of dawn, an alarm clock with a quite annoying chirping sound rang repeatedly, it was time for work...and not the work anyone would ever want to do. Still laying in bed a young man appearing to be in his middle twenties, shoulder length brown hair that seemed to have a dull shine to it, and a short slender human frame covered by a heap of blankets.

The man neglected to even turn it off, ignored it for a few minutes before getting angry and throwing it to the floor before sitting up and taking a long deep yawn as he stretched his arms out. His room a decrepit yet strangely comfortable room, with a average condition bed, a small fridge and closet; it smelled of strong oil and gasoline.

It was another day aboard the "Hardy Express" A machinery facility in the depths of space, a space port of sorts. The vessel was old, in need of repair itself but still ran true and held hundreds of inhabitants, inside it felt cold empty yet it would be full of many other ships and aircrafts, a lot of activity inside the Hardy Express.

The port getting its name from a master mechanic that created the ship whose name was Michael Hardy whose phrase went "If its hard to do, then make it hardy" A joke of sorts, a bad one. But many follow this phrase in the best of what they think it means.

Groggy to move, the man got dressed mumbling under his breath, hating the fact it was time to work in this dump. Liking the field, but hating the environment. Now wearing a boring hand-me-down gray jumpsuit with a name tag stating "Wilhelm" His last name of a German language meaning "Strong Hearted Leader" Another yawn as he reached for his work-bag filled with tools and then approached a gray wall and rubbed his eyes. "...Are you going to open?"

Impatient he took a wrench and wedged open what was to be a automatic steel sliding door, walking out the door that like a mad person slammed behind him, hard enough to shake the dust from the ceiling onto his shoulders and back covering his nametag on the back "Alex" He only nodded his head in disgust...another day aboard the "Crap-Shack" Then he remembered his current job, and like a jolt of caffeine he bolted into a massive repair bay to his workplace and began to take out his tools and he looked a ship before him with a big smile.

The Hardy Express was famous for its ability to do any job fast and cheap, and not to bad of quality. Alex's job was a good one, weapon's systems and computer technologies. He loved his job, and generally hated the work that was given to him, but this job made him really excited...

His current project was a vessel, A Grade III Interceptor, a federation vessel used by police forces usually. It looked much like a giant bullet with two massive wings bent at a 45 degree angle. The vessel was once a wreck, a famous pilot named "Natasha Riggs" had been ambushed by a gang of territorial mercenaries called "The Clocks" for no matter their job, whomever their target or goal was they would do it and time would run out for the one or job was their target.

She was theirs that day but failed... she fought 4 pilots for 10 minutes till federation police could assist. Herself injured slightly, but the ship near destroyed. An impressive ship when it was working, for the higher the grade I, II, III and lastly IV, indicated its quality of craftsmanship and capabilities. A great ship matched to a great pilot, Alex heard of Natasha and felt honored to even touch her ship, Alex as he worked on the ships, welding on thicker plates to its wings around its massive 60MM Laser Cannons. He had a slight smile as for a moment he thought about when he first met her... even if was only for a few hastily minutes.

A loud grinding noise as the same Grade III on rollers scrapped across the floor into Alex's workplace, he was reading the newspaper not paying attention when she approached him. "Ahem, Mr. Wilhelm?" spoke a soft alto voice that held a sense of "I'm in charge" He only took a drink of coffee that was next to him ignoring her. A chuckle and her scarred yet polished scaled hand pressed down the newspaper and her leaning into Alex's face. He still did not look up, but his face went from a clam relaxed expression into one of annoyance speaking as he threw his paper onto the floor.

"Look lady, I'm on brea-" He looked up as high as he could only to be caught off guard by shining yellow eyes. "I hear that your pretty good with internal systems and weaponry..." She took a step back, a tall muscular woman colored blue with scaled skin polished to near mirror shine. She was a Soparla, Romanian for "Lizard Dragon" A beauty for her species. "...Yes?" Alex felt strange talking to her for he had many bad experience with Soplarla's before.

"My name is Natasha Riggs, I was told by the federation you're pretty good with this style of interceptor". She spoke slowly as if trying to sound polite. "Well, you came to the right place..." Alex looked at it then dropped his jaw "What the hell did you do to it!?" Alex shouted looking at a crushed piece of steel. "Well... it crashed on earth after I was ambushed, I just slapped all the metal I could find together and had the federation haul it up here" She seemed shy to speak.

"You want me to fix it right?" "Yes, it is my favorite ship! Can you do it?" "...Sigh, I am not really authorized to actually fix a ship in shambles... I am just a conputer and weapons tech..." "Would you be willing to anyway? The rest of these people look fully occupied already." Alex popped a raspberry and nodded his head yes to her. "But it will take a little time... its just trashed, but I will do my best to return it to its original condition, why don't you buy another one?" "It...well belonged to my father, it is very precious to me"

Alex could only mentally laugh, but he later realized she was very embarrassed as to what happened to it, without anymore questions he gathered some tools and prepared to go to work on it. With that Alex looked to the ship and with a heavy machine placed it in the center or what he feels is the center and split the metal apart, leveling the destroyed remnants of the ship out for repairs.

"Ok, I'll do it but..." He looked behind him and Natasha was gone. Alex remembered working on it for three nights near non-stop to get it done as quickly as possible, the ship was near completion and Alex felt he should add more armor plating to it, against the law... but he did not care. Finishing the welding of the plates near the end of the day, Alex chuckled as he took a step back and smiled placing his hands on his hips.

The Grade III was ready to rock, computer sky-metrics declare no issues, and the vessel is hungry to fly. "Probably the best work I have ever done...new computer interface processing chips and faster then the grade IV. But still at grade III, funny how that works". He felt proud to work on the vessel of a famous pilot, he wiped his hands of grease and like usual, took a newspaper, sat down then opened it with a cup of cold coffee next to him. "Ahhh" He exclaimed waiting for the work bell to ring.