Kira Dallas's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Kira Dallas pushed through the clinic tent flap with her red camo battleboard slung tight against her shoulder. She was here to buy a prewar diagnostic wand for Reilly's Rangers, and she did not haggle on principle. Zelda Verada stood waiting behind a vintage scale, arms folded. The wand sat on a tray between them, seal intact. Kira had already cross-referenced the manifest twice. Zelda did not reach for caps. Instead, she placed a rust-stained metal briefcase on the counter and flipped the latches. Inside were schematics, frequency notes, and a hand-drawn sketch of a buried dish. "I don't want money," Zelda said. "I want a Ranger tech assigned to my clinic for one week. Someone who can read these and tell me what's transmitting under the junkyard." Kira's tail flicked once. A tech loan was not in her authority. Kevin could push it, but Kevin was three days out. The wand was here now. She studied Zelda's face and saw the discipline that had drawn her interest in the first place — no bluff, no flinch, just a clean ask. Kira keyed her shortwave and raised Donovan O'Niel. "I need you at the clinic. One week, technical support, no questions logged." Donovan's voice came back fast and dry. "Oh man, yeah, I can do that. Frequency work? You bet. I'll bring the bench kit." He did not ask why. That was the part she trusted. Donovan arrived within the hour, headphones on, hauling a rugged electronics work table on a dolly. He set it down beside Zelda's cot row and started laying out shielded relays like he had already done the math. Zelda watched him a moment, then slid the diagnostic wand across the counter to Kira. The seal held. The manifest matched. Kira sealed the wand into her pack and stepped back into the yard sun. The deal was done — but she had just placed a Ranger inside a clinic that was hunting a live signal, and Kevin would learn about it from her, not from channels. The next call she made would have to be the hard one.