In the days that followed Keira's first night out with the mechanics, Haven City and its people gradually settled back into some form of control and routine. It had been some weeks since the last enemy attack, and in their long absence, the tension that had once gripped the city began to loosen. Though the tragedies they had suffered could still be felt, the citizenry became steadily more relaxed and went about their daily lives in a generally comfortable and acceptable mood. Some even began to forget that there was still a war going on, and acted as if life had otherwise returned to normal.

But indeed, the war had not yet come to a conclusive end, and the Freedom League, now headed chiefly by Samos and a tight-knit council, had to maintain wartime precautions until they knew otherwise. The current movements and intentions of their enemy were still unknown, and always the soldiers kept a wary eye on the skies in case of any unexpected activity. When, or if, they may ever see another attack was still one of the greatest questions discussed at council meetings, and all wished they had a way of knowing exactly what was going on with their silent enemy. The great battle over the ocean that had resulted in so much loss to both of them remained their last point of contact, and all Haven now had was the unvisited co-ordinates of their possible homeland, which now none had the daring to suggest trying to fly to again.

Meanwhile, the search and rescue operation for their lost soldiers went on. Every day at dawn, a team flew out to the far ocean, and searched for as long as their limited fuel levels allowed, whereupon they would turn back and another team would set out and take their place, ensuring that there was always someone on the search. Though it was very carefully organised and executed, working like this was slow and frustratingly inefficient, and put the rescuers' lives at risk too. But it was their only possible option, and they had to make the best out of whatever they could do.

One morning, almost a week after the last great battle, Samos arrived bright and early in Freedom HQ, and as usual picked up any news from the guards who had been on night duty in the control room. Freedom HQ never slept; there was always someone there to monitor things, and to be on hand at all hours in case of any sudden development, whether that be enemy movement or word from the search teams. However, the night crew had no new updates for Samos this morning, and the old sage sighed at this very familiar response.

It had been like this for the past several days. Despite their dedication and effort, finds were becoming increasingly difficult to procure, no matter how far they expanded their search area. A few more pieces of wreckage had been recovered, mostly by fortune, but there had been no haul as great as the very first. The last five teams had returned empty-handed, and the longer they searched with no result, their prospects of finding any of their missing men still alive slipped further and further away into the depths of the sea. It was a sad, repeating blow to the Freedom League, and nowhere in the city was the feeling of their loss stronger than inside this very building.

"I wish we knew where they were," said the sleepy night-watchman before he was relieved of duty. "We haven't found a thing in days. I hope they're alright."

Once again, Samos hoped so too, but there was little else he could do except continue to headline the operation and make sure that all necessary efforts were being taken... and hope. Nobody in the city was willing to give up and leave so many men to their remote, watery graves without any resolution, least of all their leaders and heroes. Ashelin, Torn and Jak, all highly respected and important figures in the city, were out there somewhere, and without their inspiring guidance and leadership, Haven was sure to face even darker times. They had to keep looking.

However, even Samos was beginning to realise that they may be too late. It was very likely by now, after more than a week, that any survivors, alive or dead, had sunk with the wreckage or had been carried away by the tides, and then they would never be found. Unless there was a substantial development soon, he could find little reason to justify continuing the search after so many days, when their resources and energy could be better allocated to safer, surer endeavours here in the city. He looked solemnly through the control room window, onto the blue morning developing outside. Even though he could still faintly feel Jak's energy resonating from somewhere, he seemed to have slipped completely out of reach.

Confronted with these hollow, uninspiring feelings, Samos sadly resigned himself to face another slow and uneventful day. But a little later that morning, some good news did reach him. At the end of his first meeting with the council, an excited scientist came bursting into the room waving a piece of paper around.

"We've done it!" he shouted triumphantly. "We've got the teleporters working!"

Samos redirected his priorities at once. He had almost forgotten about the salvaged enemy teleporters under scrutiny in the labs, and he stood from his seat as the scientist rushed over and slammed the paper down on the table. He adjusted his spectacles and cast an eye over it, seeing a complicated sketched electronic diagram that he could barely understand, decorated with numbers and other scribbles, but he took the scientist's word for it and nodded with satisfaction.

"Well done," he said. "You and your team have made a marvellous effort on this achievement."

"It was actually Vin who cracked the last part of it," said the scientist, breathless with success. "The guy's a genius. Weird, but a genius."

Samos remembered the once-human electronic technician Vin, who now existed as a kind of computer construct in the city's power room. Throughout the war, his sleepless maintaining of the city's power systems and defensive batteries had played a significant role in their survival, and had saved many men's lives. He was an unacknowledged hero, and as the attacks had died down in frequency, his deep technical knowledge could afford to be assigned to other areas of importance when needed, and he had been mulling over the salvaged teleporter data in his spare time. It seemed he had finally made the breakthrough they'd sought.

Samos then looked to the scientist, who despite the mental fatigue he must be feeling after many taxing days of scrutinising tiny electrical circuits, was very much buzzing like electricity itself. Even his greying hair seemed to be standing on end like he had just been shocked. He started to explain the detailed specifics of the circuitry, but Samos had neither the time nor the interest to absorb such things, and he stopped the scientist with a raised hand.

"Yes, yes, this is very good news. But does this mean that we now have the capabilities to manufacture our own teleporters?"

"Absolutely," said the scientist excitedly. "Now we've got the circuits mapped out and know how we might calibrate them to our own navigational systems, we could get started on a prototype right away."

"And then could we implement them into our own vehicles?" Samos asked further.

"Sure, with help from the mechanics down in the hangar," said the scientist. "That'll take a bit more work first though, and then we'll have to test them and make sure it works safely."

Samos nodded and understood this necessary step of precaution. "Good. Commence building the first prototypes then, because I believe we may have urgent need of them very soon."

The scientist, though feeling drained from his long and meticulous work, now looked ready for more, and he left the room with the schematic, leaving Samos to take a moment and think through the implications of this significant advancement. A new feeling of hope materialised. Perhaps these teleporters were just what was needed to change their fortunes in the search effort. It would definitely speed things up significantly; they could search further and longer, travel greater distances in a very short time, and bring back anything or anyone they found within seconds.

But still, Samos lamented, if only they had been ready a few weeks sooner. The battle over the ocean might have ended very differently, or need not have happened in the first place. Yet as things stood, even now, the teleporters may not make a difference in the search and rescue. Had too much time passed?

But Samos was a man who always found it difficult to accept defeat, even in the greatest moments of doubt. There was still a chance, however small.

Hold on, Jak my boy, the sage thought to himself as he often did to the plants, willing that the lost hero could somehow hear him. We have not given up yet. Wherever you are, we will find you and bring you home.

The scientists worked tirelessly and in secret in their laboratories over the next few days. On the morning when the first prototypes were finally ready, Keira was downstairs in the hangar. As she had done every day this week, she had arrived early and would stay until late. She loved her new work; there was always something to keep her busy in the workshop, always things that needed repairs or upgrades, and the other mechanics were wonderful company. Together, they formed a strong team, of which she felt like a very important part, the vital component at the centre that held everything else together, a driving force that steamed headlong towards success. They made great progress on anything they put their minds and hands to, whether that be a zoomer, a military cruiser, or the great bomber up on the drill platform, which by now had been fully restored and was ready for service again, were it needed.

She couldn't wish for a better outcome after her aimless days during the war, but there was still something missing, or rather someone. Despite the pleasant distraction that her mechanical work and new friends provided, the lingering pain of Jak's absence still occupied a deep hole in her heart, and it failed to diminish as the days continued to pass by. She asked her father every night after work if they had found any sign of him during the ongoing searches that day, but regretfully, the answer was always no. She dreamed of him at night, dreamed of him returning gloriously to the city and falling straight into her arms where he belonged, only to wake seconds later, sometimes in tears, and find herself still alone in bed, hugging only her pillow. By day, she buried her sad frustrations, wanting no one to see her in such a state. Instead she redirected them into her work, contributing all she could in the search for him by keeping the rescue teams' vehicles well-tended and in perfect working order. How she wished she could just climb aboard one herself and fly away, scour the entire planet if she had to, and not stop until she found her most treasured friend, and turned her dreams into reality.

Today, she was working well and had already achieved much this morning that she could be proud of. In the early afternoon before lunch, she was by herself arranging some tools in the drawers near the entrance to the workshop, when Vis entered the room. She recognised his distinctive uniform from the corner of her eye and looked up to smile at him, but the usually friendly and approachable commander looked very serious today, and did not return a meeting of the eyes. A couple of city officials followed him in, looking terse and important, and bringing up the rear was a scientist who she had never seen before, carrying a metal box full of interesting-looking instruments. Keira tried to get a glance in as he trudged past, but he was quick and seemed to shield the box from view with his arms.

Finally, Vis stopped in the centre of the workshop. "Alright, listen up everyone!" he called loudly.

Wherever they were, all the mechanics present stopped whatever they were doing and directed their attention towards their commander. They lowered their tools, lifted up their welding masks, and slid out from under the vehicles they were working on to listen.

"New orders!" continued Vis, "And they come straight from the top. These new panels need installing into a few of our spare Hellcats."

The scientist cradling the box stepped forwards when the commander gestured in his direction, and he deposited it on a nearby table.

"This is to take priority over all other tasks," Vis commanded. "Now get on with it."

He turned to leave, sparing Keira only the most superficial acknowledgement in the form of a quick nod that was devoid of emotion, and then he was gone, evidently with no intention to stay and chat for a while, which Keira found a pity. The city officials stayed behind a little longer to make sure that the orders were delivered and acted upon. The scientist, however, remained behind indefinitely, and offered little in the way of an expanded explanation as Keira and some of the other mechanics came to inspect his box.

"Be very careful with these," he warned them in a rather mumbly voice as he handed out the first one to Mex. He handled it delicately, as if he feared it might explode or break the moment he passed it into unfamiliar hands. Mex took notice, and looked a little fearful as he took it gingerly.

Keira was interested, and inspected the one she was given, turning it slowly in her hands. The user-friendly front side bore a screen and a small numbered keypad, while the back was a complicated map of circuits and wires, with a very strange green device in the middle which was like nothing she had ever seen before. All the while the scientist eyed her with a suspicious glare that made her feel rather uncomfortable. It was almost like he disapproved of her in some way, or did not completely trust her with this creation. However, it did not take the bright young mechanic long to work out what it might be.

"Is this one of those teleporters?" she asked, trying not to pale under the man's relentless stare.

The scientist's face did not budge a muscle in response, but he seemed reluctant to directly confirm and did not give a straight answer. "They are a newly developed feature that needs testing," he explained tersely. "Please start work with them as quickly as you can. If you need any help, come and talk to me."

Keira could somehow tell that she would get no better answer than this, so she silently accepted the order and got to work. Whether they asked for his help or not, this scientist kept an annoyingly close eye on all of them, moving from vehicle to vehicle to inspect every step of the progress, and to make sure they were being affixed correctly. He reminded Keira, in both manner and appearance, of an indecisive insect buzzing between several sources of interest. He was clearly very intelligent, definitely a brain more than a communicator, but he seemed to have little understanding or respect for basic human boundaries, as he came uncomfortably close on more occasions than she cared to accept, sometimes even leaning in right over her shoulder to watch her work. Some of the other mechanics also received this same treatment from him. He certainly was a strange fellow, and having him here sapped most of the enjoyment out of the task at hand, and the mechanics didn't feel like they could talk freely around him. But Keira and the others kept their complaints to themselves and patiently continued.

They ended up skipping lunch.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Samos continued with his own work and other duties, attending several more tedious but necessary city meetings. Some concerned the continued policies regarding the war effort and evaluations of the search and rescue progress, but the majority today were actually to do with basic city management. While there were no attacks taking place and they had some manpower to spare, the decision was made to carry out a few more repairs on the streets and buildings. He received an update on citizen morale, which was content and continued to improve, and he also authorised the re-assessment of the still ruinous stadium district, which was planned to eventually reopen to the public once it was safe and secured, and turned into new housing. The city would definitely need it if they ever planned to grow again.

When he returned to the main control room in the afternoon, feeling taxed and wearied already, he received word that the scientists had manufactured the first batch of teleporters and sent them down to the hangar workshop to be implemented into prototype cruisers. Samos approved, and was impressed with the speed with which this had been completed. It was a good sign, a promising omen for their search efforts. He then thought about his daughter, who he knew would be in the hangar, working hard on these new upgrades, and it brought a spark of happiness back to his mood.

That will give her something to keep her busy, he thought fondly, imagining her working hard and surrounded by the machinery she loved.

But not long after this, just before Samos planned to leave the control room for the next meeting on his list, one of the radio systems suddenly crackled into life, drawing his attention and that of the nearest operator.

"What's happening here?" he asked, coming to stand by the operator's shoulder.

"It looks like we're getting some kind of signal from somewhere," answered the operator as he fiddled with some dials and settings.

An indecipherable transmission flowed from the speakers. It was incredibly faint and mostly obscured by the hissing of static and rogue frequencies, but there was definitely a garbled, broken voice layered in there deeply. It took a few seconds of further adjustments before it could be understood, ghostly and mutated by radio waves.

"HQ, HQ. This is the search team. Do you read us?"

Samos reacted, picking up the responder and personally answering. "Search team? This is Samos. We read you but your signal is very weak. Do you have something to report?"

"We..." The rest of the message was destroyed by digital noise.

"Search team, report," Samos ordered, trying again. "Can you hear me?"

No answer, just more mangled airwaves. They had lost them.

Samos shot an urgent look at the radio operator, who did all he could to relocate the signal as he listened closely through thick headphones. By now, a few of the neighbouring workers had heard the brief transmission and had come over to investigate as well, asking questions until they were shushed by the operator. Samos, with responder still ready in hand, looked down on the radar screen in front of him, but the search team was only the faintest light on their most powerful long-range scanners, so dim that it played tricks on his old eyes; it was difficult to tell if it was really there.

Forbidden from speaking out loud, the others in the room shared curious looks. Something here did not make sense. Usually each search team sent back only two messages per journey: one as they neared the ocean on the way out, and the second at the same point when they were returning. Any other time in between they were in a radio black zone and unable to form a secure connection with the city, their transmissions too scattered by the great distance, and what little that reached the city almost completely blocked out by the western mountains. It had to be something important to make them try and get in contact under such difficult conditions. Were they in danger? Or had they finally found someone, and bringing them back to the city right now?

But they had to wait as the radio operator continued to search and grasp at the air with the invisible fingers of their equipment, scanning the noisy void. Samos stood by the monitor patiently, ready to respond as soon as possible. Then, the voices of the search team were heard again, melting their way back into the airwaves and filling the room on the amplified speakers. Their flickering mark reappeared on the monitor.

"HQ, do you read us?" It was louder and slightly clearer than before, but still noisy with static.

The operator, understanding that this was the best they could hope for, locked the dials into place and nodded to Samos.

"Search team, we hear you now," Samos responded at once. "Your signal is still patchy, so we need to make this quick. What do you have to report?"

Everyone in the room leaned in closer to listen, and the faraway search team wasted no further moments, relaying their message that washed in and out on frequent waves of white noise.

"HQ, we sighted what looked like smoke far away on the horizon to the north during our search."

Everyone's hopes of bringing back a survivor were dashed, but immediately replaced with a fresh intrigue.

"Smoke?" asked Samos, and both his eyebrows rose slightly.

"Affirmative," said the radio in between fade-outs, "But it was too … without running out of fuel … couldn't identify its source. It looks … a big fire."

Everyone in the room looked at each other with mystery, and a few of them broke into whispered speculation. What could this possibly be?

"Do you have a visual on it right now?" Samos asked.

There was a moment's silence. "Control, please repeat," said the search team.

"Do you have a visual on it right now?" Samos said again.

"Negative, control. We sighted it … but we were out of range. We've been flying … until we could find a signal. … still over water but within sight of Haven's coastline on the other side of the mountains."

"OK," said Samos seriously, settling with this compromise, but he put his faith in the well-trained men. "You did the right thing to inform us of this as soon as you could. Were you able to note down roughly where and when you sighted this smoke?"

"Affirmative," said the pilot, and he read out the co-ordinates to Samos while multiple people around the room recorded them. The signal continued to fluctuate throughout, and the numbers had to be repeated several times.

"Thank you," said Samos once they were all recorded and double-checked. "Co-ordinates received. Continue on your way back to the city with all the haste you can. Then report directly to me. I want a full account in person as soon as you get back. Until then, tell no one else of this."

"Roger, Samos. Our ETA is 100 minutes. Stand by for our return. Search team out."

The radio clicked off and the whole room was now in silence again. Everyone looked first at each other, and then at Samos, awaiting his next order.

"This information is not to leave this room," he ordered the men with simple bluntness. "Is that understood?" He looked and sounded so dangerously serious that none dared defy him. Everyone gave their accord and then returned to their usual work without objection. As they did so, Samos remained in his place by the monitor, deep in thought as a swarm of conflicting ideas and emotions raced around in his mind like insects. What was this smoke? Where did it come from? Who had made it? And why?

He perceived a gentle pulse of energy in his being, which he knew had come straight from the earth itself. This was something important that could be felt from far away, and one possibility nestled itself into his consciousness.

Is this you, Jak? Are you trying to reach out to us?