Murder Drones | Asset Protection

Chapter 1 REDUX | Into the Storm

**NOTE: This is a rewrite of the first chapter. I'll be slowly doing this for some of the older chapters when I have the time. Somethings may not entirely line up for now. I'll probably have the original chapter 1 up until I'm finished with chapter 2.**

"Commencing sector sweep . . . Again," a man's voice rang through the silence, standing at the head of the cockpit, his news provoking grumbles and sighs of our own.

"Just how much longer do you intend to put us through this?" A more youthful voice spoke up, clearly somewhat disgruntled.

To which his colleague would respond, "Until we get any sign of a signal, even if a short blip."

The young one only shook his head, resigning himself to sitting back in his seat and idly waiting. A streak of turbulence struck the ship as it jolted back for another circle around the sector, we gripped anything nearby for leverage. The sounds of banging faintly filling the air from the few items not worth strapped down being flung gently about in the distance.

Aside from the occasional complaint of group, the only other thing audible was the sounds of the ship's thrusters at work and the snowstorm battering against the pod's titanium shell. Thrusters burning brightly amongst the thick storm, akin to star in the night sky. 

"Do we really have to go through all this just for some lost piece of scrap?" The young man flicks his hands out.

Plastered upon the dashboard and held on by a few loose pieces of tape laid a single piece of paper, torn out of the documents officializing our presence on Copper-9, stating our purpose and directives upon this exoplanet. Among said directives being the recovery of a few vague identifications, presumed to disassembly drones.

Operational Timeline | Initial Timeline
Period: 150 Hours
Main Directive | Reestablish contact with Asset 'S'
Main Directive | Reestablish contact with Asset 'F'
Main Directive | Reestablish contact with Asset 'D'
Secondary Directive | Recover all lost designated Assets

"It's not just 'scrap'. It's a Disassembly Drone," the man standing front and center in the cockpit repeats himself as he did before, "JcJenson's flagship product, their magnum opus of-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it," our impatient colleague relents, "You don't have to go on that whole tirade again." 

"Suit yourself then," he finishes, returning his attention to the ship's control panel.

In front of him laid various interfaces, switches, gauges, everything some average joe wouldn't understand how to use or interpret. Though of course, he stood as the sole operator of the system for a reason, being our resident technician. Supposedly some self proclaimed 'Prodigy' in his craft, the man's confidence gave me nothing to doubt about his claims.

His focus was fixated by the view ahead, holding carefully upon a few screens and setting forth new paths for the ship's autopilot system. Though even to me, his movements were repetitive, as we'd been patrolling the same region and path over and over again.

Though eventually through the monotnous process, and perhaps a few minutes wasted, our attention was hooked once more by a faint *beep* emitting from the cockpit. Our impatient colleague was the first to notice, as its source would be right next to his position, a small device held in his hands.

"Finch, anything on the receiver?" The technician perked up from the panel.

The man ponders on his inquiry for a moment, simply responding with a shrug, "Barely. But, it's something."

The technician glances over the two others sat waiting within the ship, myself and a colleague of more seniority in terms in experience and authority back home. With only a few shrugs and small nods, no objections, the man nods before turning his attention back to the control panel, halting the ship's flight path.