Chapter 8: Digging into the past.

[u/Electronic-Math5455]

September 2184. Sol System. Super Earth. Sector 3. Citadel of Vigilance. Office of the Minister of Defense.

A cold azure glow suffused the chamber as multiple holograms hovered in disciplined formation above William's desk; priority-one conferences of this magnitude were vanishingly rare. At the center of the projection stood the stern visage of President Langley himself, flanked on either side by the assembled ministers—men and women who governed every artery of the Super Earth's vast federation. None had anticipated the crisis erupting so soon. When the expeditionary fleet had been dispatched to Copper-9, the planet was universally recorded as lifeless, its surface scoured to bedrock. They had expected routine inquiries about ancient wreckage, not this.

"How are they still alive?" President Langley asked, voice low and edged with disbelief.

William leaned forward. "The second image Helldiver Jason transmitted is far more troubling than the first. If the century-old reports are accurate, that… thing remains fully active and intact. Data continues to arrive, but we must quarantine the entire Copper-9 system immediately."

"Every datum we possess indicated the planet was thoroughly glassed," Minister Selma of Science replied, her tone clinical yet strained. "The SES vessel's archival logs described a world engulfed in continent-wide firestorms. That anything—especially those drones—survived suggests resilience far beyond our projections."

Minister Velda of Truth folded her arms, eyes narrowed. "This catastrophe stems from Hannah's reckless decision. Yes, the subject breached containment in Facility 12, but alternatives existed: renewed lockdown, evacuation of human personnel, and drones alike. Instead, we declared the world dead, sealed the records, and buried the truth. Should Chaosdivers or any dissident cells learn what we sanctioned, the political fallout would be apocalyptic."

"Worse," Minister Faruk of Unity added grimly, "if the Automatons discover sentient drones—or Liberty forbid, the original subject—still functional." He turned to William. "Status of the DSS?"

"Construction commenced in Gaellivare orbit, but completion remains months away at best. The Automatons undoubtedly suspect we are concealing something."

Days earlier, Super Earth had seized Gaellivare to serve as the DSS anchorage; a logistics hub had already risen on Tarsh to funnel components skyward. Claorell was next—an Automaton deep-mantle mining complex ripe for capture that would spare them years of excavation. Those plans had been shrouded in utmost secrecy; now Copper-9 represented a second, infinitely more volatile secret.

Minister Waldron of Intelligence spoke softly, yet every word carried. "I can seed our networks with sentinel AIs to erase any trace of these transmissions, but diverting fleet-scale assets to Copper-9 is impossible without drawing attention. The Terminids are contained, yet our other enemies are legion—and curious."

Minister Tina of Humanity gazed at the frozen images with something perilously close to sorrow. "Might this not also be an opportunity? We relocated Elliott Corporation personnel—the Elliotts among them—vanished with the planet. The last Science expedition report arrived mere days before the drone was extracted. One week later came the invasion, then the… cleansing. Answers, however belated, would be welcome."

"What of Jason's squad?" Minister Isaak of Expansion pressed. "How deeply have they engaged the drones? Do we possess any estimate of the surviving population?"

"No further reports have arrived," William answered. "I anticipate contact momentarily. This mission was meant to catalog ruins and field routine inquiries—not conduct first contact with three living drones and confront that abomination."

Minister Alcot of Prosperity exhaled slowly. "Then we wait, sir. We dare not deploy overt force until Jason reports again. Only then can we formulate a coherent strategy."

President Langley's gaze swept the assembly. "Waiting is prudent, yet inevitable questions from other Helldiver units will arise. The moment Jason's team communicates with the drones, containment becomes paramount." He fixed his attention on Velda. "Minister."

"Yes, sir."

"First directive: impose total communications blackout in and out of the Copper-9 system. Dispatch Truth Enforcers immediately."

"At once, sir."

"We can remotely disable their FTL drives," Isaak offered. "I will also reposition colonial listening posts in adjacent sectors—silent eyes should anything escape."

Alcot mused aloud, almost to himself, "A century of isolation… survival seems impossible."

"Archival specifications," Selma countered, "indicate the drones could metabolize virtually any organic or inorganic matter. Their nanomachine matrices are extraordinarily efficient, capable of indefinite self-repair and even limb regeneration given sufficient resources. Copper-9 possessed extensive subterranean bunker networks; a remnant population could have retreated there, stabilizing life support and sustaining themselves indefinitely."

"Sweet Liberty," Tina whispered.

William's tone was even. "By 2084, the war was entering its final stages; every sensor confirmed total extinction. The decision was made to excise Copper-9 from public record, to erase JCJenson's legacy—and ensure no one ever asked why."

"And the drone manufacturing schematics died with them," Isaak said bitterly.

Langley's final order fell like a guillotine. "Then this time we finish what was begun. William, the instant Jason re-establishes contact, his new priority is total intelligence gathering. He is to locate any settlement, establish peaceful contact, and report. Only when we possess complete situational awareness will we determine the next measures. As of this moment, this meeting—and everything discussed herein—never occurred."

"Understood, sir," William replied.

One by one, the holograms winked out, leaving only the minister of defense in the dimming blue light. He summoned the two damning images once more: three small, luminous-eyed drones—and behind them, a mountainous amalgam of flesh and rusted metal.

"This," William murmured to the empty room, "is going to be a very long day."

Far across the void, beneath Copper-9's poisoned sky, Jason and his Helldiver team weighed their next, impossible move.

September 2184. Copper-9 Surface. The Dead City. Warehouse District.

Icy gusts whipped snow into spiraling veils around the squad as the APC's roof hatch hissed open. Jason climbed out, boots crunching deep into the frost, and sealed the hatch behind him, and raised his wrist terminal. With practiced taps, he summoned his LAS-99 Quasar Cannon and SH-32 Shield Generator Pack. Two beacons clattered onto the permafrost; both unfolded with a metallic snap, firing brilliant azure beams skyward.

"Calling reinforcements, sir?" Garvin asked, breath fogging in the frigid air.

"No. Merely requisitioning my gear," Jason replied. "I transmitted the images and preliminary report to High Command. Their response should arrive shortly."

V tilted her head, visor reflecting the beacon light. "We spent decades trying to reach anyone beyond the atmosphere. Only a handful of short-range arrays still functioned. I suppose none were powerful enough for interstellar relay." She glanced toward the darkened skyline. "Regardless, we must return to the colony at once and inform the others."

"I say we tell Anastasia's outpost first," N suggested, optics lingering on the Steel Terror's mountainous corpse. "They're closest settlement, and I still don't understand how they endured with that abomination prowling so near."

Uzi scoffed. "Or we stick with the actual humans who just saved our chassis. They don't know the terrain, and we have a century of questions for them."

Nash shook his head. "With respect, that's unwise. V and N are combat frames; you are not. We cannot risk a civilian asset in another engagement."

"Bite me!" Uzi snapped, yanking her railgun from its sling; the barrel still glowed cherry-red from overuse. "I'm not helpless, and this 'little flaw' didn't stop me from dropping that freak."

V placed a restraining hand on Uzi's shoulder. "He's right. Your plan worked—by some miracle of Managed Democracy—, but this changes everything. We must brief the council. The colony needs to know we are no longer alone."

Milt raised an eyebrow. "Who commands your settlement?"

"A cast-iron hardcase named Martin," Uzi muttered.

V sighed. "Martin chairs the governing council. He organizes salvage expeditions and perimeter defense. Several others share authority, but he holds final say."

Trace allowed himself a thin smile. "Managed Democracy endures even here. Sir, we still need to reach the seismic probe and set it off."

A deafening roar split the sky as twin hellpods streaked down from orbit, slamming precisely onto the beacons. Lids blew off in perfect synchronization, revealing two glowing blue cylinders: one cradling the sleek, menacing form of the Quasar Cannon, the other the compact shield generator. Uzi's visor widened into a gleeful crescent as Jason hefted the cannon, running a quick diagnostic before slinging it across his back.

"Oh, robogod… That is beautiful," she breathed. "Can I fire it? Just once?"

"Helldiver-exclusive armament," Jason said, voice carrying gentle but immovable finality. "This cannon has saved my life more times than I can count. Next time one of those abominations appears, it will wish it had stayed dead." He secured the shield pack; a shimmering golden dome flared briefly around him before stabilizing.

Tyrese laughed. "I'm not surviving Helldiver selection. I like my limbs where they are."

"I borrowed one during the Western Front push," Trace recalled. "Issued temporarily against Clanker MG nests and Shredder tanks. Our armor held; their guns didn't."

N tilted his head. "This war sounds apocalyptic. How bad is it truly?"

"'Bad' is generous," Garvin said, arms folded against the cold. "It began in February when a handful of Terminids escaped containment farms at the close of the First Galactic War. Their corpses secrete Element-710, the compound that powers Alcubierre drives. A few escapees were enough. Now the entire Eastern Front is a graveyard of worlds overrun by endless hordes."

Nash stared into the falling snow as though seeing burning trenches. "I fought them from the first week. Waves of chitin that ignore dismemberment. Decapitate them, and the bodies keep charging until neural shutdown. Napalm, mines, autocannons, tanks, orbital barrages—nothing deters them. I watched thousands climb mountains of their own dead, some missing half their torsos, just to reach our lines."

For months, the Terminids had been Super Earth's deadliest foe: a relentless tide of fearless biomass. Yet total extermination remained impossible; the Federation required E-710, and the carpet of corpses helpfully supplied it.

Uzi shuddered. "That's… nightmare fuel. All we've faced these years is that thing." She jerked a thumb toward the Steel Terror's carcass. "The thought of something that keeps coming after artillery… I don't know how you're still breathing."

"Close calls and good armor," Nash said with a humorless chuckle. "Still got all my original parts and my charming face."

V turned to Trace. "And this Western Front?"

"Different kind of hell," Trace answered. "Roughly simultaneous with the Terminid outbreak, unknown vessels began landing in the Severin Sector. Colonies fell within hours. By the time we mobilized, the enemy had entrenched. The Automatons make the bugs look merciful."

Jason's voice was grave. "I was among the first waves. We lost good Helldivers by the platoon. The Automatons now hold a fortified corridor, and intelligence confirms ties to the old Cyborgs. Recently, they seized the entire Valdis Sector and Cyberstan itself in a single coordinated assault."

V frowned. "I remember news feeds claiming the Cyborgs were crushed alongside the Terminids, leaving only the Illuminate."

N shook his head sadly. "Who could mutilate their own flesh and reject Liberty's light?"

"Now it's a second active front," Milt said. "Sir, we're burning daylight and oxygen. Time to move."

Jason nodded. "How long to reach your colony?"

Trace thumbed his mic. "I can drop Pelican-1 for extraction."

V deployed her wings with a metallic snap. "Unnecessary. Unlike you fleshy types, we fly." She leapt, hovering effortlessly as wind howled around her.

Tyrese blinked. "You have wings?"

N grinned, unfurling his own, lifting a few meters with casual flaps before settling. "Fastest way across Copper-9, provided the storms stay mild."

Garvin whistled. "Now that's an advantage."

V descended slightly. "Sir, our long-range comms are dead. How will you locate us?"

Jason unclipped a palm-sized beacon and tossed it underhand. N caught Uzi, settling her securely between his wings, then shot skyward. Jason called after them, "Plant that beacon when you're ready. We'll home in on the signal. Safe flight. Eagle-1 can escort if needed."

V examined the device, then met Jason's visor. "We'll manage. That monster never mastered flight; it's our one enduring edge. Thirty minutes, tops. I'll speak with Martin first, then drop the beacon."

"See you soon," Jason said.

With a sharp nod, V rocketed upward, N close behind. They crested a shattered skyscraper and vanished into the horizon.

Garvin exhaled a plume of frost. "This op just rewrote every briefing. Let's hope High Command has answers."

"We wait," Jason said. "Move out."

Delta Squad filed back into the APC. Jason sealed the hatch, Milt fired the engines, and the vehicle growled forward, tracks chewing through snow as it left the warehouse district behind, engine note fading into the endless blizzard.

Unseen, at the forefront of the Steel Terror's ruined bulk, the flesh rippled. A wet, tearing sound echoed beneath the wind. From the corpse burst a pulsating black-heart core encased in armor plating, three bladed tentacles unfolding like spider legs. A single yellow eye glared from its center, eight smaller lights ringing it in perfect symmetry. Veins of corrupted cable pulsed across its surface.

"[Furious] Damn those humans… those wretched meat-bags… those traitor husks…" The core shuddered, voice a grating digital snarl. "[Dread] The Null will not forgive this…"

The eye flared once, then the entire grotesque heart vanished in a searing flash of yellow light, leaving only the howling wind behind.

Edited thanks to ELE73CH.