Riven smiled at that. "You've been in the wastelands too long if you think this is impressive."

Riven had spoken the obvious truth.

She walked over to the desk and began rummaging through the clutter, clearly looking for something specific. After a moment, she pulled out a device identical to the one the commander had given Tatehan, a communicator, sleek and dark-screened.

"Here it is," she said, powering it on. The screen lit up with the same soft blue glow. "I don't use it as much as I probably should. Mostly just for emergencies or when I need to coordinate with other hunters. But..."

She looked at Tatehan expectantly. "Give me your communicator. I'll add my contact information."

Tatehan pulled out his own device and handed it to her. She took it and began tapping on both screens, her fingers moving with practiced efficiency. After a moment, she handed his communicator back.

"There," she said. "Now we can stay in touch. Message me whenever you want. Or call, if it's urgent. Though fair warning—if I'm out hunting in the deep wastelands, I might not have signal."

Tatehan looked at his screen. A new contact had been added, simply labeled "Riven" with a small icon next to it. He felt a strange sense of... connection. It was such a simple thing, exchanging contact information, but on Mars, where trust was rare and alliances fragile, it felt significant.

"Okay," he said, slipping the communicator back into his pocket.

Riven set her own device down on the desk and leaned against it, her expression turning curious. "So," she said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Tatehan replied, though he was immediately wary of what she might ask.

"How do you survive out in the wastelands?" Riven asked bluntly. "You said you live there, but that's... that's basically impossible for most people. The creatures alone would kill you within days, not to mention the environmental hazards, lack of water, lack of food. How do you do it?"

Tatehan had been expecting this question, and he'd already prepared his answer, or rather, his non-answer.

"I have a shelter," he said carefully. "A secure place. Well-hidden. It has supplies, water filtration, some defense systems. I've been... lucky, I guess. And I'm careful."

It wasn't exactly a lie. The spaceship was a shelter. It did have supplies and water, and it definitely had defense systems—though they weren't fully restored. In fact, he would argue they were barely functional at all.

He just wasn't mentioning that it was also a spaceship.

Riven studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to detect deception. Finally, she nodded slowly.

"Okay," she said simply.

There was a slight pause, and then she asked another question: "How do you earn money? Or resources? You can't just survive on what you have forever."

This was a trickier question. Tatehan didn't have a good answer because he hadn't really thought about it. Up until now, he'd been focused entirely on survival and repairing the spaceship. Money and resources had been secondary concerns.

Not that he had much use for money anyway. The spaceship provided everything he needed for now.

"I... haven't really established a steady income yet," he admitted. "I've been focused on other things. But I'll need to figure something out eventually."

Riven nodded thoughtfully. "Well, if you're interested, I can tell you what I do. Maybe it'll give you some ideas."

"Go on..." Tatehan said, genuinely curious.

Riven walked over to the window and looked out at the city below. "I'm a hunter," she said. "Specifically, I hunt creatures for their cores. You know what cores are, right?"

"Yeah," Tatehan said. He'd seen them, the bio-neural core he'd taken from the Hexapod Mauler, the shadow goblin cores he had in his inventory. They were valuable, that much he knew.

"Cores are basically the power source of most creatures on Mars," Riven explained. "They're organic, but they generate and store energy in ways we don't fully understand. Different creatures have different types of cores, some are common and not worth much, others are rare and incredibly valuable."

She turned back to face him. "I go out into the wastelands, hunt creatures, extract their cores, and sell them in the city. There's always demand. People use them for power sources, for technology, for medicine. The Red Crest Clan buys them for their equipment. Even regular civilians buy small ones for personal devices."

"Sounds dangerous," Tatehan observed.

"It is," Riven confirmed. "Very dangerous. I've had close calls more times than I can count. But it pays well, and I'm good at it. My ability helps, being able to sense attacks before they happen gives me an edge that most hunters don't have."

Tatehan imagined her fighting, how she would move with that uncanny precision, dodging attacks that should have hit her.

Her ability really was perfect for hunting dangerous creatures.

"How much can you make?" Tatehan asked. "From hunting cores?"

"Depends on what you kill," Riven said. "A common creature's core might sell for enough to buy a few days' worth of food. A rare creature's core could buy you a month's rent. And something really valuable, like a Mauler core?" She let out a low whistle. "That could set you up for months. Maybe even a year if you're careful with the money."

Tatehan thought about the bio-neural core he'd given to the Red Crest Clan. He'd used it to save Lyra, which had been the right choice, it had earned him allies, respect, and resources. But hearing how valuable it was in purely monetary terms made him realize what he'd actually given up.

He had lost a damn fortune!

"I assume you were hunting for a valuable core before we met," Tatehan said, remembering what she'd told him earlier. "What were you after?"

Riven's expression became more guarded. "There were rumors of a Crystalline Serpent in the northern wastelands. They're rare, incredibly dangerous, but their cores are worth a fortune. I'd been tracking it for days, getting close, and then..."

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