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Chapter 1 part 8
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Engineer Commander Havoc
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“Huh, so this is a new product? A data stylus?" I picked it up, testing its weight in my gloved hand. "Looks more like a glorified nano-crystal rod to me.”
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“Apparently, it’s the latest interface device engineered by Commander Havoc, who makes this technology available to everyone,” Zoro replied, puffing up with self-importance. “You channel quantum particles through the crystalline matrix at the tip to input data. The ones here work decently enough, though I hear the higher-end versions, made with pure quantum crystal and not just nano-crystalline, interface seamlessly without a microsecond of lag. Those are prized possessions of the elite. But for the common voidborn? These are more than adequate. Don’t go scorning the depot’s best-selling product, Narwhal.”
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“How very altruistic of you, Zoro. Peddling these ‘affordable’ tools for the everyman. Still, calling it a quantum stylus is a bit rich when it’s not even made of actual quantum crystal.”
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I was at the station’s supply depot, ostensibly to pick up some plasma coolant for equipment maintenance. But when Zoro himself was manning the counter—a rarity—I couldn’t resist poking fun at his wares. That’s when this so-called quantum stylus caught my eye.
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Its sleek, crystalline frame mimicked the design of authentic quantum styluses, but its material composition was off. Nano-crystalline, not pure quantum crystal. Still, the matrix calibration was impressively precise—clever work, really. The manufacturing process made it distinct enough to warrant its own name. They should call it a nano-stylus, not a quantum one. It’s also much cheaper, making it available to more spacers. They should call it a *nano-stylus,* not a quantum one.
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“Well, only the elite among the corporate execs get devices made from pure quantum crystal,” Zoro said with a shrug. “And this was named by none other than Commander Havoc. Got a problem with it? Take it up with them.”
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“Commander Havoc, the enigmatic engineer, huh?”
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The name carried weight across the sector. Commander Havoc had been active for countless cycles, leaving their fingerprints on everything from hydroponics tools to environmental systems. Habitat design, data interfaces, repair kits—if it was practical and essential to colonist life, there was a good chance Commander Havoc had a hand in its creation.
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What made them truly remarkable wasn’t just their innovation but their philosophy. No patents, no trademarks, no hoarded blueprints. They transmitted their designs anonymously through quantum networks, leaving the fabrication and distribution to trade corporations and small merchants like Zoro. It was an act of altruism almost unheard of in a sector where credits ruled all and greed sparked wars.
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That’s Commander Havoc for you. Or rather, me. I’m Commander Havoc.
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“An engineer who sends schematics through the void, lifting entire trade corporations with a single transmission. That’s Commander Havoc. My depot owes them everything. We used to scrape by as a small operation. Now I’ve got a dozen staff and more stock than I know what to do with. Amazing, right?”
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“Yet here you are, minding the shop yourself,” I quipped.
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Zoro waved it off. “Errand droids can only do so much. Anyway, many many cycles ago, Alviss Trade Corporation ruled this station. Back then, no one could’ve imagined they’d collapse.”
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Alviss Trade Corporation. Their monopoly once suffocated the station’s economy, their price-gouging so ruthless it bordered on villainy. And then I intervened. Commander Havoc sent schematic after schematic to every rival depot in the sector. Soon, products that directly undercut Alviss’s core business flooded the market. Within cycles, they crumbled.
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I downplay it now like a tall tale, but I remember those days. The conflict wasn’t bloodless. Commander Havoc’ actions sparked corporate wars, assassinations, and sabotage, painting this station red before Alviss fell. Zoro, now a cheerful shopkeeper, was one of the survivors of that brutal era. Space commerce is cutthroat.
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And while I prefer to stay anonymous, watching innovation spread is worth it. Sure, it comes with its downsides. The faster the economy grows, the more the station’s population balloons. More people means more waste clogging the recycling systems, which inevitably means more work for me. Still, anonymity keeps me clear of the Havoc. I don’t have to deal with the political fallout or corporate rivalries. All I care about is seeing the tech out there and, when it suits me, using it myself.
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“Well,” I said, tossing the stylus on the counter. “Guess I’ll buy one. A little memento. Add it to my tab, Zoro.”
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“Right on. Say what you will, but you’re a loyal customer, Narwhal. Anything else?”
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“Oh, right. I need blaster coolant. That’s why I came here.”
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“Got it. But fair warning, the price went up a bit.”
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“Why?”
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“Increased energy demand from quantum styluses. If you’ve got complaints, take them up with Commander Havoc.”
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Static crackled through my helmet’s speakers as I sighed. “You’re impossible. Fine, I’ll pay.”
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“Thanks for your business!”
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Engineer Commander Havoc. A name whispered across the stars, a specter of progress whose true identity remained a mystery. Some thought they were a high-ranking executive with a soft spot for the common folk. Others theorized they were a rogue AI or a collective of engineers. No one would ever guess they were just a wandering mercenary like me.
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