Tanya stared at the contract drafts scattered across her workshop table, each one representing a potential fortune in Adaptive Hyper-Matrix applications. Agricultural equipment upgrades, mining ship components, industrial machinery improvements. The possibilities were endless and completely beyond her current capabilities to manage.
"I can't do anything with these right now," she admitted to Sage, pushing the papers aside in frustration. "Derril made it crystal clear that I need proper representation before I start negotiating with major corporations."
//Business expansion requires appropriate infrastructure. Attempting to manage complex negotiations without experienced support typically results in disadvantageous agreements.//
"Exactly. He was happy to look over crop contracts and simple engineering agreements, but my business needs a real contract negotiator. Someone who understands technology licensing and can keep me from signing away my future for short-term profits."
The problem was time. Hiring the right person would take weeks of interviews and background checks, and she had exactly two weeks left to complete Jimul's commission and claim the bonus payment that would bring her tantalizingly close to Sage's mysterious million-credit milestone.
"So the Adaptive Hyper-Matrix revolution gets put on hold," she said, sealing the contract drafts in a secure container. "First things first, I need to finish the space lion, collect the payment, and then hire someone who can help me change the agricultural equipment industry."
//Logical prioritisation. The commission's completion will provide both funding and credibility for future ventures.//
With the internals finished and tested, it was time to build the external shell. This was the part that Jimul would care about the most. She had ordered specialised aluminium alloys and ceramic composites plating that would give the lion its flowing, organic appearance while providing the structural strength needed for modular operations.
"Right then," she said to her fabrication equipment as the materials arrived. "Time to make a lion that will turn everyone's head."
The plan was methodical: build the tail section first to work out any fabrication issues, then the body segments, and finally craft the magnificent head that would house the mining arrays. She started with the tail's elegant curves, carefully shaping the aluminium-alloy into flowing sections that suggested powerful haunches and a lashing tail and then placing the ceramic composite over the top.
But something was wrong with the material.
"You're not behaving properly, are you?" she said to a tail section that had developed stress fractures during a routine flexibility test. "That's not supposed to happen."
//Material properties appear inconsistent with specifications. Recommend a comprehensive analysis.//
Tanya had to agree with Sage, she ran the alloy through her workshop's testing systems, and the results confirmed her suspicion. The material composition was wrong; it was close to her specifications, but with subtle differences in the aluminium-other material ratio that compromised its structural properties.
"They sent me the wrong blend," she said, staring at the analysis results. "This stuff will deform under the kind of loads a mining ship generates. It's not safe."
She had two choices: return the material and wait for a correct replacement, which would mean missing her bonus deadline, or use what she had and hope the structural compromises wouldn't cause catastrophic failures during operation.
The decision took exactly thirty seconds.
"Absolutely not," she said, sealing the defective materials for return shipment. "I'm not building something that could get Jimul killed just to make a deadline. My reputation is worth more than any bonus payment."
//Ethical engineering practices prioritise safety over profit. This decision demonstrates professional maturity, but educational opportunities also exist to modify the material into something better//
"No, too much testing and simulations have been done, there is no reason to risk it for a bit of extra credit."
When Jimul heard about the delay, his response surprised her. Within hours, he'd used his family's industrial connections to rush-order correct materials from another system, paying premium rates for expedited delivery.
"The supplier blamed the delay on supply chain disruptions from Eden-Three," he explained during their comm call. "Apparently, the unrest there is affecting shipping throughout the sector. But don't worry, the correct alloys will be here in three days."
The news reports from Eden-Three had been getting worse, but she hadn't realised the situation was affecting interstellar commerce.
"Three days I can work with," she said. "Thank you for understanding."
"Hey, I want a ship that'll outlast me, not one that'll fall apart the first time I push it hard. Take the time to do it right."
While waiting for the materials, Tanya decided she'd earned a break from the workshop. Her parents had been dropping hints about family time, and Marcus had been pestering her to meet his daughter properly since she had returned home. They had only met up a few times and only for a short time.
"Picnic time," she announced to her reflection, trading her work clothes for something casual that wouldn't scandalise small children. "Time to remember what sunlight feels like."
They met at Riverside Park, the same spot where they had played as children. Marcus arrived first, carrying enough food to feed a small army and a three-year-old girl who was clearly the center of his universe.
"Aunt Tanya!" little Sophie squealed, launching herself at Tanya's legs with the fearless enthusiasm only toddlers possessed.
"Hello, gorgeous!" Tanya scooped up her niece, spinning her around until Sophie giggled with delight. "You've gotten so big! And so smart-looking. Are you going to be an engineer like Aunt Tanya?"
"I'm gonna build spaceships!" Sophie declared with absolute certainty.
"That's my girl," Marcus said proudly. "Though I'm hoping she'll stick to building them on the ground for a few more years."
David arrived ten minutes later, carrying a familiar-looking remote control unit and wearing the kind of mischievous grin that meant trouble.
"What's that you've got there, David?" Tanya asked innocently, though she already knew.
"Oh, just a little something I picked up," he said, activating the controller. A small golden lion descended from behind the trees, performing elegant loops and rolls with perfect grace. "Amazing what you can get online these days. Especially if you mention your Tanya brother"
Marcus watched the display with growing suspicion. "That looks awfully familiar, doesn't it, Tanya?"
"Does it?" Tanya tried to look mystified. "I mean, lots of ship models look similar..."
"Bullshit," Marcus said cheerfully, then glanced at Sophie. "I mean, that's nonsense. That thing flies exactly like your little ship, you don't think we see rising from the Crescent Isle. The one you claim doesn't exist."
Tanya felt her stomach tighten, but she forced herself to stay calm. Of course, they'd noticed ships coming and going from Crescent Isle. It was visible from most of her family farm. She had been naive to think she could keep a workshop completely secret in a close-knit community where everyone knew everyone else's business. The real question was how much they suspected. Tanya trusted her family but still wasn't going to tell them everything. She continued the conversation, ignoring the bait her brother had put out.
"I never said it didn't exist," Tanya protested. "I just said I didn't know where Jimul got his models."
"Aha!" David pointed triumphantly. "You never told us the client's name was Jimul. How did you know that unless you're the one who made these?"
Caught, Tanya grinned sheepishly. "Okay, fine, I might be designing a ship that looks like that, but client confidentiality and all that."
Tanya knew the cat was out of the bag as it seemed David had gotten the model from Jimul himself, or at least the design.
Sophie had been watching the flying lion with rapt attention. "Can I fly it, Uncle David?"
"After lunch, princess," David said, bringing the model in for a gentle landing. "But first we eat your Daddy's famous sandwiches."
They spread blankets under the old oak tree and unpacked enough food for twice their number. Marcus had outdone himself with thick sandwiches, fresh fruit, and what appeared to be half a bakery's worth of pastries.
"Trying to feed the entire farm?" Tanya asked, accepting a sandwich that was roughly the size of her head.
"Growing boy," Marcus said, patting his considerable stomach. "Besides, someone's been living on those awful, prepackaged meals for months. Time for some real food."
"How did you—" Tanya started, then shook her head. "Never mind. I don't want to know how you know about the meals."
"Dad mentioned you've been working some pretty long hours," David said. "And you've lost weight. We're worried about you."
Sophie climbed into Tanya's lap, sticky fingers tangling in her hair. "Aunt Tanya, why do you build spaceships?"
"Because someone has to," Tanya said, hugging her niece. "And because when you build something with your own hands, you know it'll work exactly the way it's supposed to."
"Like my blocks?"
"Exactly like your blocks, but bigger and they fly."
Marcus leaned back against the tree trunk, watching his daughter with obvious contentment. "You know, when we were kids, I never thought you would actually do it. Build spaceships, I mean. you were always drawing them and talking about them, but..."
"But you thought I'd grow out of it?" Tanya asked.
"I thought you'd get practical," he admitted. "Find a nice engineering job somewhere safe and settle down. I'm glad I was wrong."
David laughed. "Remember when she tried to build that rocket in the barn? Nearly burned the whole place down."
"I was twelve!" Tanya protested. "And the explosion was much smaller than you're making it sound."
"Dad was finding rocket parts in the hay for months," Marcus said. "Mum made you promise never to build anything explosive again."
"Good thing space lions don't explode," Tanya said, then paused. "Well, not unless you really mess up the fuel mixture."
Sophie looked up at her with wide eyes. "Your lions explode?"
"Only if they're very, very sick," Tanya said quickly. "Healthy lions just roar and fly around catching asteroids."
After lunch, Tanya taught Sophie how to operate the model lion's basic controls while Marcus and David watched from the shade.
"She's good with people," Marcus observed, watching Tanya patiently guide Sophie through the flight controls. "Always was. Maybe that's why her engineering works so well as she remembers that machines are supposed to serve people, not the other way around."
"Think she will be okay?" David asked quietly. "All this secret workshop stuff, mysterious clients, working alone... It's not like her."
Marcus was quiet for a moment, watching his sister explain aerodynamics to his three-year-old daughter in terms that somehow made perfect sense.
"She's happier than I've seen her since she left for university," he said finally. "Whatever she's doing out there, it's what she's meant to be doing. We just have to trust her to know when she needs help."
As the afternoon wound down and Sophie dozed against her father's shoulder, Tanya felt the familiar warmth of family acceptance. They didn't need to understand what she was building or why. They just needed to know she was safe and following her dreams.
"Thanks for this," she said, packing up the remains of their feast. "I needed the reminder that there's more to life than engineering problems."
"Just don't be a stranger," Marcus said, transferring Sophie to his arms. "We like having our rocket scientist sister around."
The next day, the materials arrived, and a quick test confirmed it was the correct blend. With the correct materials finally in hand, Tanya threw herself into the fabrication process with renewed energy. The lion took shape with flowing grace, with its tail sections that curved like living muscle, body segments that suggested the power of a hunting predator, and finally the magnificent head with its crystalline eyes and flowing mane.
"You're absolutely gorgeous," she said to the completed ship as it sat in her workshop. "Jimul's going to love you."
//Fabrication quality: acceptable. Aesthetic integration: successful. Overall assessment pending operational testing.//
The delivery to Eden-Five's orbital station was meant to be straightforward, but Tanya was struck by how crowded the normally quiet facility had become. Ships filled every available docking bay, and temporary shelters had been erected in cargo areas.
"Busy place," she commented to the docking controller, who was an old schoolmate named Torres who'd graduated a few years ahead of her.
"Refugees from Eden-Three," he said grimly. "Started arriving two weeks ago. Word is that the situation there is completely out of control. Food riots, government collapse, complete breakdown of civil order."
"I had no idea it was that bad."
"News feeds are downplaying it, but we're seeing the reality dock by dock. These people lost everything."
It was not a problem she could solve, so she continued to her destination. The handover ceremony took place in Cargo Bay Seven, where Jimul waited with obvious excitement beside his new ship. The lion gleamed under the bay's lights, its gold and black livery making it look like a creature of legend.
"She's perfect," Jimul breathed, running his hands along the hull. "Absolutely perfect."
//A Naming ceremony is required for proper vessel commissioning. Suggest a formal designation process.//
"A proper ship needs a proper naming ceremony," Tanya said, activating the ship's systems for the first time outside her workshop.
Jimul nodded seriously. "Of course. A ship this magnificent deserves proper recognition." He placed his hand on the lion's head and spoke clearly: "I name you Rhu Shi—Golden Lion. May you hunt well among the stars."
The ship's systems seemed to hum in acknowledgment, lights pulsing once in what felt remarkably like recognition. That was not something Tanya had programmed or expected to happen. Yet it was the second time it had happened. She would have to pester Sage about it later.
//Vessel designation confirmed: Rhu Shi. Performance assessment: B grade. Good design integration and aesthetic appeal. Some functional compromises noted, fabrication quality reflects time constraints. //
"B grade?" Tanya whispered. "What knocked points off?"
//Rush fabrication created minor stress concentration points. Control system integration could be more elegant. Functional excellence achieved, but refinement is lacking.//
As they completed the transfer paperwork and Jimul prepared for his maiden voyage, Tanya felt the satisfaction of another successful project. The payment would indeed bring her close to Sage's mysterious milestone, and more importantly, she'd built something beautiful and functional that would serve its owner well.
She was halfway to the docking bay exit when they approached her.
"Ms. Furrow?" Inspector Davidson was professionally dressed and carried himself with the kind of casual authority that suggested serious backing. Two plainclothes officers flanked him, their stance making it clear this wasn't a social call.
"Yes?" Tanya kept her voice steady despite her suddenly racing heart. She had been waiting for this day. Maybe she could use her windfall and just pay for the taxi outright and be done with it.
"We'd like you to come with us for some questions. Quietly, unless you'd prefer we make this more... public."
The dock worker around them had already begun to notice the confrontation. Tanya could see curious faces turning their way, and she realised that causing a scene would only make things worse.
"Of course," she said calmly. "Lead the way."
As they escorted her toward the station's security section, Tanya caught sight of the Rhu Shi through a viewport, its golden hull gleaming as Jimul prepared for departure. She couldn't help but smile at it.