One

Deep Space

Unexplored Region

March 2017

Jaro stared at the sensor display, frowned yet again. His salvage team had been hunting for an intermittent energy trace for hours. He should have called off the search and proceeded to the target area to survey for old war wrecks from the Great War. Wreckage was often totally dispersed within a solar day, but if the wrecks had enough mass to them sometimes they clumped together. Jaro's team's task was not looking for old battlefields so much as old bases, be they on a planetary surface or in space.

The last trip out had scored an unusually good haul. They'd found a Great War era starbase built into an asteroid. Most known bases had been scavenged for all useful materials and equipment long ago. The rare finds were those bases not in the surviving databases or that had been prohibitively expensive to even check out. The company Jaro worked for specialized in deep space hunts out along the fringes of the unexplored sector of the galaxy; the captains sent out to that region worked as much on gut instinct as by sensors and star charts. Jaro and his crew were among the best.

Right now, Jaro was thinking that maybe their instincts had gone haywire. Granted, the course they followed was on a line toward a possible outpost for the Old Alliance, another asteroid facility that was rumored to be an intermediate repair facility. Such a place would have all kinds of useful tech, more advanced than what was available today. That it was over a thousand years old did not matter. It only mattered if the facility was preserved against the ravages of time and vacuum.

"I'm telling you there is something out there, Captain," Kranx insisted. His tendril-like hair weaved and flexed like the tail of a feline, reacting to his emotional state. Right now, he was frustrated by his inability to localize the energy signature. His fingers flew over the sensor panel, but he was unable to locate the target. Harvester had a decent sensor suite, requiring only the occasional software upgrade to stay current; Kranx doubted that what he was chasing could be tracked down any better if the Havester had been equipped with the latest in military hardware.

"There it is again!" Kranx exclaimed, manipulating the controls.

Jaro would have reiterated that Kranx was crazy if he hadn't been watching the sensor panel at the time. The brief reading was there. A blip. Almost as if something out there had just pinged his ship. He turned to Conto, the pilot. "Drop to dead slow. Whatever is out there has to be close."

Conto nodded and turned back to the helm controls. "Going to dead slow." After a moment, he added, "Whatever it is, it doesn't show on sensors."

"Could be cloaked," Kranx supplied. Though he doubted that because even if the object was cloaked, or painted black, the mass would at least blot out the stars behind it. Since he wasn't seeing that effect, whatever it was, it was probably smaller. A lot smaller.

Silence settled on the cramped bridge as Jaro's crew worked to locate the object. There was a leeway in the amount of time they could spend searching for the object. Once the allowance was used up, however, Jaro had to get the ship back on course for the suspected starbase or else the Harvester wouldn't have enough fuel to get them back to base. Minutes dragged by as the clock continued to count down toward aborting the mission.

Conto suddenly broke the oppressive silence. "Captain, I think-" He made a few adjustments. "Yes! Metallic object just outside the ship. Port quarter. Approximately ten thousand kilometers. Almost missed it. Kraxing thing is so small."

Jaro grew excited by the prospect. If it was small enough to fit into what he laughingly called a cargo hold… "Take us in. Hit the floods at one thousand meters."

Minutes dragged by as Conto slowly eased the ship in close to the target. At the prescribed distance, he flipped a switch, kicking on the powerful forward flood lights. Harvester eased forward with agonizing slowness. Jaro and Kranx crowded around the pilot's chair, staring out the transparisteel viewport, trying to spot the elusive object. While the metal detectors could 'see it,' organic eyes were still limited.

"There!" Kranx exclaimed, pointing.

Jaro squinted. Just left of center there was something out there. As the ship drifted closer, they could make out more details.

It wasn't big; a little over three meters in length. Bipedal, like some kind of mechanical suit. It was pitch black in color, which is why they couldn't see it clearly, but it would definitely fit into the cargo bay. Salvager ships the size of the Havester did not have the power allowance to mount magnetic beams, but they were equipped with manipulator arms.

Jaro moved to a panel on the port side of the cockpit, powering it up and activating the forward arms, while Conto brought the ship to a halt a mere hundred feet away. With a skillful ease born of many hours working the arms, Jaro reached out and gently took hold of the object. Transferring it to the lateral arm on the starboard side, he depressurized and opened the cargo hatch, set the prize down just inside the hatch, closed and repressured the hold. Stowing the armatures back in their cradles, Jaro ordered Conto to set course for their destination before heading aft to the cargo hold. Harvester pumped to hyperspace as he left the crew space.

Kranx and Conto joined the captain in the hold to look over their find. Conto shivered at the sight of it. Some primal instinct told him that the thing laying on the deck was dangerous.

It was like nothing they had ever seen despite the stuff they had discovered floating in space over the years. The thing was armored and had seen some heavy fighting at some time in the past. More damage from floating in space had incurred, but there appeared to be no penetrations to the inner mechanisms.

The cargo bay's lights had been turned up to full intensity, however, the bay appeared dimmer than it should have been. Jaro peered closely at the scored armor plating of the bipedal thing. Despite all the surface damage, it appeared to be soaking up the ambient light. That explained the dimmer glow about the bay.

Jaro had seen bipeds similar in height to this thing, around ten feet, but nothing in his experience matching the mechanism laying on the floor. This thing had been built for only one purpose. To destroy. He surmised that it must be a relic from what some races called the Great War. That it had been found floating in space where old outposts dating back to that war was not much of a surprise.

Conto opened an equipment cabinet anchored to the port side bulkhead and took out a portable scanning device. He closed the cabinet, activating the scanner and aiming it at the thing on the floor. "I get no power readings from it." He frowned in consternation. "Maybe Kranx was wrong. This couldn't have been the source of the ping he detected."

Kranx glowered at his friend, hair tendrils weaving in agitation. "There is nowhere else within range that it could have come from."

"Maybe we should find an access port and try to power it up," Conto suggested.

"No!" Jaro snapped more forcefully than he'd intended. "We'll leave it as is. Let the techs at the company look it over. They will have the equipment to do a proper examination." He turned to head back to the cockpit, paused at the hatch. "Leave it alone. Let's get back to work. Who knows, maybe we'll get a bonus for this in addition to the outpost we're looking for."

"If it's really out there," Conto muttered.

"Has Jaro ever been wrong about these old bases, outposts, and planetary battle sites?"

The man grudgingly admitted that their captain seemed to have an unerring sense about the finds they had discovered over the years. This one should be no different. However, as Conto followed his friend back to the cockpit, he couldn't help feeling that the thing laying in the cargo hold was dangerous. If it were up to him, Conto would eject the thing back into space where it belonged.

Harvester dropped back into normal space right on target. The sight that greeted the crew was nothing less than awesome. And a little terrifying. The salvage ship did not have the scanning equipment to determine what had happened to the solar system that lay before them, but it was clear from both the visuals and the sensor readings that something bad had taken place a long time ago.

Off to the left – galactic rim ward – lay an immense asteroid field. Directly ahead was a gigantic crescent of rock that appeared to be their destination. The opening of the crescent was filled with more rocks ranging from the size of a ball to that rivaling a Horde battleship. A blue/white star blazed in the distance, giving off massive amounts of radiation. Harvester's sensors identified it as a neutron star; however, the crescent formation was well outside the danger zone from the radiation field, so Jaro ordered Kranx to proceed.

The trip in was slow and cautious. Jaro had no idea what to expect. Despite there being no indication of life anywhere around, he didn't believe in taking chances. Anyone with a better equipped starship could easily hide somewhere out there, using the radiation field as cover. The coordinates Jaro had dug up pointed to a spot somewhere on the curved face of the rock crescent facing away from the star.

The hour it took to approach the formation crawled by at a snail's pace. The old outpost gradually grew as the tiny salvage ship approached. A spot appeared on the rocky surface that gradually resolved into a rectangular opening that was their destination.

Jaro frowned at the sensor readings. No life. No major active power sources, yet there appeared to be auxiliary generators still functioning. Jaro suspected that certain systems were coming online because a sensor system detected the Harvester's approach. Such events had happened on two previous occasions.

Kranx slowed the salvage ship to a halt ten kilometers from the massive docking port doors. "So, how do we get in?"

In response, Jaro tapped a few commands into the comm board and hit the TRANSMIT key. An ancient access code was beamed at what he hoped was a receiver antenna. Nothing happened. Kranx and Conto grew restless while Jaro considered his options. There was a circular secondary airlock access port set into the rock below the main hangar. It was a standard layout for these old outposts. It was an option for ingress, should it become necessary.

Jaro's mind was made up for him when the sensors reported a sudden energy spike. A vertical crack appeared in the center of the massive main hatch that steadily grew wider as the thick doors drew apart. A blue/white glow beyond them indicated a functioning atmosphere shield. When the doors opened far enough, Jaro ordered Kranx to take them in.

Kranx swung the ship around to face the open doors, set down fifty meters away and shut down all systems. The trio moved aft into the cargo hold, where Jaro broke out the weapons and scanning equipment.

"Are you sure we need the weapons?" Conto asked, dubiously. He took the holstered energy pistol regardless. "I thought this place was supposed to be abandoned."

"It is," Jaro answered. "But why take chances?"

Kranx nudged the lifeless hulk laying in the middle of the bay. "What about this?"

"It's not going anywhere. "We'll make a quick survey of the outpost, pick up some salvage to prove the find, and get out," Jaro explained. Privately, he thought the machine currently laying in the bay would probably bring in the most profit, but every little bit extra would help. "Let's go."

The world flickered, flashed, finally came into focus as long dormant systems revived. The surrounds solidified into a world of red highlights on black. Light spectrum filters shifted through the settings until one replicating humanoid eyesight. A status inquiry overlay appeared.

SYSTEM INTEGITY: 53%

ARMOR STATUS: 23%

POWER RESERVE: 19%

LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM: 33%

SERVO MECHANISMS: 17%

OVERALL STATUS: CRITICAL

Not good numbers. However, it knew much time had passed. First, it had to sync up with an outpost or sensor array to ascertain how much time had passed. The next actions were prioritized in order of importance.

Step two: return to the birthplace for major repair and overhaul.

Step three: get a complete picture of the current status of the war.

Step four: rebuild army upgraded for the current age.

Step five: resume primary mission.

Those would suffice for now. Another part of its consciousness received and analyzed the signal it had been waiting for who knew how long. It knew that one day the devil battlesuits would eventually be found and revived. The moment was at hand; it had to be ready. It had failed in its mission to destroy the battlesuits once. That would not happen again.

The machine took stock of its surroundings. It was in a bay of some sort. Sensors identified unremarkable metallic substances. Old. Increasing power flow to all systems, the machine tried to sit up. Servos that hadn't moved in ages whined and complained at being roughed up; the screech of tortured bearings was enough to wake the dead. Finally, it reached an awkward sitting position. From there, the machine struggled to its feet. The right foot did not function properly because the ankle had sustained damage. It could not recall how that had happened because some of its memory banks had been compromised over the ages.

That was a problem for another time.

It quickly found the control panel for the cargo hold doors and activated them. Once the doors had opened far enough, the ten-foot machine dragged itself out into the cavernous hangar bay. It searched old files on the known outposts using the design of the hangar for correlation. An answer appeared in the left side of its visual display.

This was one of the furthest outposts bordering the Unknown Region; a section of the galaxy that had never been mapped properly. All expeditions that went into this region were never seen again. This was one such outpost that guarded against any enemies emerging from the depths of the Unknown Region. None ever appeared, but the chain of bases had been established as an unlikely early warning system.

The machine knew there was not a repair facility here to effect repairs, but it would be able to make temporary fixes to its power systems. Hopefully, there was still a small fleet of ships that could be cannibalized to make one working model. If the fuel stores had not deteriorated with time, then there would be a supply to travel to the world of origin where it could completely overhaul its damaged systems and restore itself to pristine condition.

The relic from a war long over slowly dragged itself across the hangar in the direction of the main control room. The crew of the starship was not searching far beyond their ship. In fact, they were in an adjacent storage bay foraging for salvageable materials to loot. The machine cared not for trivial matters such as that. All that mattered was survival and the continuation of the mission. Besides, they were making so much noise they would never hear the machine's foot dragging across the metal deck plates.

Jaro and his crew found the storage hangar where a small fleet of long-range shuttles were stored. A few were in good shape, while others had not weathered the ages very well. There was nothing worth pillaging in here without taking the time to disassemble the ships. Jaro did not want to stay in the outpost any longer than necessary.

Kranx discovered a storage bay off the ship hangar packed with all sorts of equipment and parts. The trio quickly loaded several magnetic carts with treasure that had not been seen in the galaxy for a thousand years. The navigation computers, storage media, replacement parts for the shuttles and even a few tool kits were hastily piled on the carts. The magnetic fields were activated, and the platforms were repelled several inches off the metal deck. Despite the weight piled on them, that platforms were easy to push around.

The group returned to the Harvester in short order. They were shocked to see the cargo hold open and the machine gone. Canto discovered the scratch marks on the deck leading deeper into the outpost. All of them experienced a momentary pang of fear. Where was the machine? What did it plan to do? Were they in any danger?

Jaro snapped his crew out of their indecision with a few curt orders. They pushed the platforms into the hold, locked them down and closed the hold doors. Once sealed and locked, Kranx darted into the cockpit and fired up the engines.

Harvester lifted off from the hangar deck and smoothly soared back out into space on maneuvering thrusters. Once far enough away, Kranx kicked in the main engines and throttled up to max thrust. The ship shuddered from the strain. Creaks and groans as the structure fought against the strain reverberated throughout the ship.

Jaro watched the sensor repeater display. He eyed the distance from the outpost and the time to getting clear of the gravity fields of the sea of rocks making difficult safely jump to hyperspace. Because of the crescent shape of the field, Harvester had to reach a relative distance of several AUs core-ward from the relative position of the outpost. That accounted for the long flight in and now the full-power flight out to the nearest clear point to safely jump away.

A proximity warning snapped everyone's head around. Nothing showed on sensors forward or off to port and starboard. Jaro brought up the aft view. At first, he didn't see anything. Then he spotted it. Two coronas low and off the to the right. He knew instantly what they were. He had wondered if the outpost's defenses might still be operable. Now he knew.

"I'm sorry," Jaro whispered as the weapons turned in on their terminal runs.

Thousands of kilometers away, the machine watched a sensor display dispassionately for the inevitable result. The weapons systems of the outpost had survived in better shape than could have been expected. The control system failed after the two missiles were launched, but that was more than enough. The salvage ship did not have the equipment to detect the launch. By the time the crew knew they were in danger, it would be too late to do anything about it.

Two minutes after launch, an initial flash followed closely by a second larger one marked the death of the Harvester and her crew.

The relic from the past turned away from the display and limped its way out of the command center. The first order of business was to effect temporary repairs to the power core and recharge. Then see if there was anything salvageable in the small fleet of long-range shuttles. Constantly having to recharge to maintain its power supply while repairing and outfitting a shuttle for the voyage to the origin point would take time. But time was the one commodity the machine had in abundance. Time and patience.

Origin Point

April 2017

A tiny long-range shuttle dropped out of hyperspace in a star system long forgotten since the end of the Great War. No one came out to this remote section; there was not indigenous life on any of the few habitable planets in this sparsely populated sector. All of which made it an excellent place to hide a base for producing the deadliest war machine ever to have stalked the stars.

The computer followed its programming and set an approach course. Ancient access codes were transmitted to a receiver/transmitter upon achieving orbit. The computer continued orbiting and transmitting until a reply signal was received. That took time as the ancient systems below woke up, analyzed the transmission, searched its protocols, and finally replied. With the proper procedure completed, the shuttle's computer broke orbit and began the descent to the surface. Only after it passed safely through the upper atmosphere did the computer send a signal to the sole occupant in the aft section. The machine was too big to fit into the cockpit without damaging the equipment, so all programming had to be accomplished remotely.

Upon waking, the machine analyzed its systems.

SYSTEM INTEGITY: 33%

ARMOR STATUS: 23%

POWER RESERVE: 11%

LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM: 19%

SERVO MECHANISMS: 14%

OVERALL STATUS: CRITICAL

The base was waking up. All systems would be powered up and ready to go once it reached the base's command section. The machine would interface with the repair drones and initiate repair and reconstruction protocols.

The computer set down on the landing grid a kilometer away from the sole structure on the surface. It was an unremarkable building, little bigger than an elevator shaft. In fact, that is exactly what it was.

Limping across the one-kilometer span took precious power to complete. Its access code still worked, however, to unseal the base and give it access. The descent into the bowels of the base seemed to take forever to a machine that counted in nanoseconds. At last, the doors parted, exposing the top level of the massive underground base. Fortunately, the command center was located on that level, so it would not have far to limp/walk.

Systems were coming to life all over the base. When the machine entered the command section, the base computer challenged it immediately. "IDENTIFY YOURSELF."

The unit transmitted its identity and access code.

"IDENTITY CONFIRMED. COMMAND CODE RECOGNIZED. WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS, UNIT SIX SIXTY-SIX?"

Utilizing a vocoder that had not been used it ages, the unit answered, "I need…extensive… repairs."

"THE REPAIR MODUALS ARE COMING ONLINE NOW. THEY WILL BE READY IN A FEW MINUTES."

Unit Six Sixty-six left the command center and headed for the lift that would take it to the lower levels. Along the way, it explained what it desired.

"I do not just want to be repaired. I need to be rebuilt. My structure must be stronger and more durable than the original design."

"THERE ARE NO PLANS FOR THE PARAMETERS YOU DESCRIBE. THE ORIGINAL PLANS HAD BEEN OPTIMIZED FOR THE BATTLEPLAN THAT HAD BEEN PUT IN PLACE."

"Then the battleplan must be altered. The original plans will suffice for the new units with a few added alterations. I, however, require major reconstruction in order to complete the prime mission"

"VERY WELL. CONSTRUCTION OF NEW UNITS SHALL COMMECE IMMEDIATELY. IN YOUR CASE, YOUR SUPPORT SYSTEM MUST BE STABILIZED BEFORE ANY RECONSTRUCTION CAN BEGIN."

Unit Six Sixty-six entered the designated repair bay, limped across to the platform set at a forty-five-degree angle, and backed into it. Cessation of the annoying screeching of the unit's foot dragging across the metal deck plates was a welcome relief to the base computer, though it would never admit as much.

The computer reclined the platform, powered up the automated mechanical devices in the ceiling, and set to work. Unit Six Sixty-six shut itself down, content in the knowledge that the new Prime Directive had been set in motion.

Soon, the galaxy would once again cower in terror at the name ShadowDemon.

16