《Doryani's Machinarium》 CH 1 Conrad Conrad Jackson had always been meticulous, a trait that served him well as a mechanic in the Union''s outer colonies. But nothing had prepared him for the isolation of being stranded in the void. How long had it been now? Months? Years? Time had a way of slipping through his fingers like the fine Martian sand he once played in as a child. His ship, the Wayfarer, floated silently through the endless black, a speck of humanity in a vast, indifferent universe. The crew had vanished without a trace, leaving Conrad alone with his thoughts and the cold hum of the ship''s life support systems. He''d checked every corner, every hidden compartment, but found no sign of them. They were just... gone. Conrad''s hands were his salvation. He spent hours each day maintaining the ship, ensuring every bolt was tight, every circuit functioning. It kept him busy, kept his mind from drifting to darker places. But no matter how hard he worked, he couldn''t shake the feeling of eyes watching him from the shadows. "Jackson, you old fool," he muttered to himself, his voice echoing through the empty corridors. "Talking to yourself again, are you?" He laughed, a harsh, barking sound that lacked any real humor. It was a laugh he''d grown accustomed to hearing. He''d taken to conversing with the ship''s NHP, a rudimentary program named Athena. She wasn''t much of a conversationalist, but her mechanical responses were a comfort, a reminder that he wasn''t completely alone. "Tell me, Athena," he asked one day, his voice hoarse from disuse, "what are the chances of us finding another ship out here?" "Probability of encountering another vessel in this sector is approximately 0.0003%," Athena replied in her monotone voice. "Not great odds, huh?" Conrad sighed. "Well, Jackson, looks like it''s just you and me." He patted the wall affectionately, as if the ship could feel his touch. At night, when the ship was at its quietest, Conrad would lie in his bunk and listen. The voices were the worst then, whispering unintelligible things just beyond the edge of hearing. He knew they weren''t real, knew they were just figments of his fraying sanity, but that didn''t make them any less terrifying. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "You''re losing it, Jackson," he told himself one night, clutching his blanket tight. "Get a grip, man." But the void had a way of creeping into the soul, filling the empty spaces with dread and despair. It wasn''t long before he started seeing things, shadows flitting just out of sight, shapes forming in the corner of his eye. He''d whip around, wrench in hand, but there was never anything there. One day, while working on the engine, he heard it clearly: a voice, not his own, calling his name. "Conrad..." He froze, heart pounding in his chest. "Who''s there?" he demanded, brandishing the wrench like a weapon. "Show yourself!" But the engine room remained silent, the only sound the steady thrum of the ship''s reactor. He laughed again, a broken sound. "You''re cracking up, Jackson. Hearing things now. Wonderful." Despite his bravado, a seed of doubt had been planted. What if there really was something out there, watching him, waiting? The thought gnawed at him, eroding the fragile barrier between sanity and madness. Days bled into nights, and Conrad''s grasp on reality grew increasingly tenuous. He''d catch glimpses of figures in the reflection of the view port, hear snatches of conversation when the ship should have been silent. He couldn''t trust his own senses anymore. In his more lucid moments, he considered sending out a distress signal, but the thought of exposing himself to whatever might be lurking out there paralyzed him with fear. Better to stay hidden, to keep the ship dark and quiet. One morning, he found himself in the mess hall, staring at the empty seats. "They''re gone, Conrad. All gone. You''re alone. Always alone." Athena''s voice cut through the fog. "Conrad Jackson, you have a message waiting." "A message?" He frowned. "From who?" "Unknown origin. Playback commencing." The voice that filled the room was one he hadn''t heard in a long time: his own. But it was different, colder, with a hint of malice. "Conrad, you can''t hide forever. We see you. We know you." He stumbled back, knocking over a chair. "No, no, no," he whispered, clutching his head. "This isn''t real. This can''t be real." But the voice continued, relentless. "The void is watching, Conrad. And it''s coming for you." He screamed, a primal sound of terror and defiance, and the ship''s lights flickered in response. When silence fell once more, he was left trembling, sweat pouring down his face. "Jackson, you''ve really lost it now," he muttered, rocking back and forth on the floor. "But you''re not giving up. Not yet." He forced himself to his feet, hands shaking but determined. There was work to be done, repairs to be made. As long as he kept busy, he could hold the darkness at bay. For now, that was enough. But in the quiet moments, when the hum of the ship seemed to whisper secrets, he knew the void was still watching, waiting for the moment when his resolve would finally break. CH 2 Athenas Alarm Clock Conrad woke to the blaring of alarms, his heart racing as the shrill sound cut through the stillness of the ship. He bolted upright in his bunk, the echoes of the past days'' hallucinations still fresh in his mind. For a moment, he wondered if this was another trick of the void, another way to torment him. "Athena!" he called out, his voice rough and panicked. "What''s happening?" "Proximity sensors have detected an unknown vessel," Athena''s calm, mechanical voice responded. "The Wayfarer has been boarded." Conrad''s blood ran cold. The void had found him. "Jackson, you have to move," he muttered to himself, scrambling out of bed. "Can''t let them take you. Not now. Not ever." His hands moved with practiced efficiency despite the trembling. He grabbed his toolkit, a small pack of essentials, and most importantly, Athena''s coffin. With a few quick movements, he disconnected the NHP from the ship''s mainframe, leaving the once-vital systems of the Wayfarer in a vulnerable, dormant state. "Time to hide, old man," he whispered, clutching Athena''s core like a lifeline. He darted through the dim corridors, his mind racing. The ship was his sanctuary, his prison, and he knew every nook and cranny. He slipped into a narrow maintenance crawlspace, barely wide enough for him to squeeze through, and pulled the hatch shut behind him. The darkness enveloped him, and he sat there, every nerve on edge, listening to the sounds of his own ragged breathing. Minutes felt like hours as he waited, ears straining to catch any hint of movement. He heard the faint thuds and clangs of boots on metal, voices muffled and indistinct. Whoever they were, they were thorough, methodical, searching every inch of the ship. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Conrad Jackson, you can''t hide forever," he muttered to himself, rocking slightly. "But you can try. Just a little longer." Eventually, the noise grew closer, louder, and Conrad''s grip tightened on Athena''s core. He pressed himself further into the cramped space, willing himself to be invisible. A sudden burst of light pierced the darkness as the hatch was wrenched open. Conrad blinked against the glare, his eyes adjusting to see several figures in advanced suits, their faces obscured by helmets. One of them reached out, a gesture that seemed almost gentle, and spoke in a calm, authoritative voice. "It''s okay. We''re not here to hurt you. We''re a deep run far-field team. We found your ship drifting." Conrad''s mind struggled to process the words. "Not... not the void?" "No, not the void," the figure replied. "We''re here to help." Relief and confusion washed over him in equal measure. He allowed himself to be guided out of the crawlspace, his body weak and unsteady. The team members spoke to him in soothing tones, but their words barely registered. They led him to the ship''s common area, where he was given water and a blanket. As he sipped the water, the reality of the situation began to sink in. These were people, real people, not figments of his imagination. They had found him, saved him. "Can you tell us what happened here?" one of the rescuers asked gently. Conrad looked up, his eyes haunted and distant. "The void," he whispered. "The void devoured them and left me to suffer alone." The team exchanged worried glances but continued to treat him with kindness and patience. They gathered what they could from the Wayfarer, cataloging the ship''s condition and salvaging what was useful. All the while, Conrad sat in silence, clutching Athena''s core, his mind drifting through memories of loneliness and terror. Days later, when they reached the relative safety of a Union base, Conrad was given medical care and psychological support. The doctors and counselors asked him countless questions, but his response remained the same. "The void devoured them," he would say, eyes staring into the distance. "And it left me to suffer alone." The team documented his account, filing it away with the other mysteries of deep space. For Conrad, the journey to recovery was long and uncertain. But in the quiet moments, when the memories surged and the voices whispered, he found a strange comfort in knowing he had survived the void. CH 3 Settling into the Long Rim Conrad''s journey from the Union base to the Long Rim was a blur of confusion and fear. He had been taken in by the far-field team with promises of safety and care, but their patience had worn thin. His compulsive fixing of their ship, his muttering about the void, and his constant inquiries about the Wayfarer had grated on their nerves. Only one person on the ship had shown him any real kindness: Varshan Kulidez, a quiet, introspective engineer who seemed to understand Conrad¡¯s obsessive need to fix things. Varshan had a knack for seeing beyond Conrad¡¯s eccentricities, recognizing the trauma that lay beneath. ¡°Don¡¯t mind the others,¡± Varshan had told him one evening, while they were both working on a stubborn piece of machinery. ¡°They don¡¯t understand what you¡¯ve been through. Just keep your head down and do what you need to do.¡± Conrad had nodded, grateful for the solidarity. It was Varshan who had helped Conrad get through the long, lonely nights on the far-field team¡¯s ship, listening to his ramblings about the void and the Wayfarer. When the rest of the crew decided they could no longer tolerate Conrad, Varshan had tried to intervene. "We can''t just leave him," Varshan had argued with their leader. "He''s been through hell. He needs help, not abandonment." But their leader was adamant. "We can''t have him jeopardizing our mission. We''re dropping him off at the Long Rim. It''s the best we can do." Varshan had given Conrad a small device, a communicator rigged to send a distress signal if he ever found himself in real trouble. ¡°Just in case,¡± he had said, pressing it into Conrad¡¯s hand. ¡°Use it if you need to. I¡¯ll come for you if I can.¡± The Long Rim was a lawless expanse, a frontier where survival depended on cunning and strength. It was not the void, but the desolation and danger it harbored were close enough. When they left him on a dusty outpost, Conrad felt a strange mix of abandonment and relief. Here, at least, he was free from their judgmental stares and whispered conversations. Conrad stood in the middle of the bustling market, clutching Athena¡¯s core module to his chest. The outpost was a chaotic sprawl of makeshift stalls and ramshackle buildings, populated by a motley assortment of traders, mercenaries, and scavengers. He needed to find a place to install Athena, to bring her back online. She was his only link to sanity, his only hope of making sense of this new environment. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. "Find a place, Jackson," he muttered to himself, navigating the crowded streets. "Athena can help. She always helps." After hours of searching, he found a small, run-down repair shop at the edge of the market. The sign above the door was faded and barely legible, but it promised repairs and installations. Conrad entered, the bell above the door jingling faintly. An older man looked up from behind the counter, his eyes narrowing as he took in Conrad¡¯s disheveled appearance. "What do you need?" he asked gruffly. "I need to install this," Conrad said, holding out Athena¡¯s core module. "It¡¯s an NHP unit. Can you help?" The man raised an eyebrow. "An NHP, huh? Not many folks around here have use for those. What do you want it for?" "She¡¯s...she¡¯s my friend," Conrad replied, his voice trembling slightly. "She can help me get back to my ship. Please, I just need a place to install her." The man studied Conrad for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. I¡¯ve got a spare workstation in the back. It¡¯ll cost you, though." Conrad nodded, fumbling with the few credits he had left. "I can pay. Just...please." The man led him to a cluttered back room filled with outdated equipment and parts. Conrad worked quickly, his hands steady despite his anxiety. Within minutes, he had Athena¡¯s core module connected to the workstation and powered on. "Athena?" he whispered, as the console hummed to life. "Are you there?" "Initializing," came Athena¡¯s familiar monotone. "System check complete. Hello, Conrad." Relief washed over him. "Athena, I need your help. We¡¯re in the Long Rim. I need to find a way to get back to the Wayfarer." "Data insufficient," Athena replied. "Further information required." Conrad sighed, but he couldn''t let frustration take over. Athena was a simple NHP, limited in her responses for now. He had to find a way to survive and gather the resources he needed. He thanked the shop owner and left, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Conrad began to navigate the chaotic environment of the Long Rim, determined to find a way back to his ship. With Athena¡¯s guidance, he avoided the more dangerous pitfalls and slowly started to gather information. Every night, he would sit in his small rented room, talking to Athena and planning his next steps. "The void devoured them," he would say, staring out at the stars. "But I¡¯ll find them, Athena. I¡¯ll bring them back." And Athena, ever patient, would respond, "Acknowledged, Conrad. Objective logged." With each passing day, Conrad¡¯s resolve grew stronger. The Long Rim was a harsh and unforgiving place, but it was not the void. He had survived the darkness once; he could do it again. And with Athena by his side, and Varshan¡¯s communicator in his pocket, he would continue to fight, to search, and to hope. CH 4 Atziris Most Bestest Buddy As Conrad settled into his role as a mechanic and engineer in the harsh environment of the Long Rim, he found an unlikely ally in Atziri. Atziri was a troubled man, known for his erratic behavior and propensity for violence. But despite his rough exterior, he had a soft spot for Conrad and his peculiarities. Atziri could be brutal as hell when he needed to be, but he had a strange fondness for Conrad¡¯s antics. When Conrad needed supplies for his repairs and projects, he would ask Atziri for "candy" - a term that encompassed everything from metal scraps to wires and organic materials. It didn¡¯t matter what Conrad needed; Atziri would always find a way to get it for him. After being in the Rim for about a year Conrad had slowly gathered the resources he needed to build his own mech. It was a long and arduous process, with each component requiring careful consideration and planning. Some parts he salvaged from derelict ships, while others he purchased or traded for with the credits he had saved up. But the most important part of his plan was to upload Athena into the mech. He couldn¡¯t risk her getting damaged or lost, and having her integrated into the mech¡¯s systems would ensure her coffins safety. As he worked tirelessly on his project, Conrad found solace in the familiar hum of machinery and the steady guidance of Athena. He still struggled with his mental issues, his thoughts often spiraling into darkness, but he was determined to push through. "Conrad needs to focus," he would mutter to himself, his voice echoing through the empty workshop. "Conrad has to keep moving forward." As his project progressed, he delved deeper into the intricacies of mech construction and integration. He spent countless hours studying schematics, tinkering with components, and fine-tuning every detail. Each piece he added to the mech brought him closer to his goal, but the process was slow and painstaking. Atziri remained a constant presence, providing him with the materials he needed and offering occasional words of encouragement, albeit in his own gruff manner. "Keep at it, Conrad," Atziri would grunt, tossing a bundle of wires onto his workbench. "You''ll get there eventually." While Conrad appreciated Atziri''s support, he often wondered what demons lurked behind the man''s stoic facade. Despite his troubled nature, there was a strange bond between them, forged in the dark of the void and endless an desire to find the truth. As the weeks turned into months, Conrad''s mech began to take shape. Its sleek metal frame gleamed under the harsh lights of the workshop, its components humming with latent power. But there was still much work to be done. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Conrad focused his efforts on integrating Athena into the mech''s systems, a task that proved to be more challenging than he had anticipated. He spent countless hours poring over lines of code, adjusting settings, and troubleshooting errors. "Conrad, you sure you know what you''re doing?" Atziri would ask, his brow furrowed in concern. Conrad would merely nod, his determination unwavering. "Trust me, Atziri. I''ve got this." And indeed, Conrad did have it. With each passing day, he made progress, overcoming obstacles and refining his design. And as the final pieces fell into place, Conrad stood back and marveled at his creation. The mech stood tall and imposing, a testament to Conrad''s ingenuity and perseverance. Its joints whirred with precision, its weapons systems primed for action. And at its core, Athena''s presence hummed softly, a guiding light in the darkness of space. With his mech complete and Athena integrated into its systems, Conrad felt a newfound sense of purpose and determination. He stood before his creation, feeling a surge of pride and excitement course through him. The mech was more than just a machine; it was his ticket to finding the Wayfarer and uncovering the truth behind the disappearance of his crew mates. Atziri watched from the sidelines, his expression unreadable. Despite his gruff exterior, Conrad could sense a hint of admiration in the man''s gaze. There was a mutual understanding between them, forged through shared struggles and triumphs in the unforgiving environment of the Long Rim. "Ready to take her for a spin, Conrad?" Atziri asked, a hint of excitement in his voice. With a sense of anticipation, Conrad climbed into the cockpit of the mech, settling into the pilot''s seat with a sense of familiarity. The controls responded to his touch, the interface lighting up with data and diagnostics. He glanced over at Atziri, who stood at a safe distance, watching with keen interest. "Here goes nothing," Conrad muttered to himself, his hands steady on the controls. With a flick of a switch, the mech powered up, its engines roaring to life with a deafening roar. Conrad guided the mech out of the workshop, its massive frame towering over the surrounding buildings. The ground shook beneath its weight as Conrad tested its mobility and responsiveness. The mech moved with surprising agility, its joints flexing and bending with fluid grace. Conrad couldn''t help but grin as he put the mech through its paces, weaving between obstacles and leaping over obstacles with ease. Atziri watched in awe, a rare smile crossing his rugged features. "Not bad, Conrad. Not bad at all." He had come a long way since arriving in the Long Rim, overcoming obstacles and forging unlikely alliances along the way. And now, with his mech at his side, he felt unstoppable. As the sun began to set on the horizon, Conrad guided the mech back to the workshop, its metallic frame gleaming in the fading light. He knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty, but he was ready to face whatever challenges came his way. With his new friends by his side and Athena guiding his every move, Conrad Jackson was ready to embark on his next adventure, determined to find the Wayfarer and uncover the truth behind its disappearance. And as he looked towards the stars, he knew that nothing would stand in his way. CH 5 No Such Thing as Easy Money The Icebreaker mining station loomed in the darkness of space, its silhouette stark against the backdrop of distant stars. The station had been a hub of activity, mining precious minerals from the ice-rich asteroid it was anchored to. But now, it was under "new management," and the team knew right away that they were walking into a hornet''s nest. Atziri, Doryani, Eidolon, Greasso, and Shadow had been hired to install a USB daemon into the station''s systems, a task that would destabilize the current operations for pure profit. It was a risky mission, but the pay was good, and they were professionals. The team moved through darkened corridors of the station silent and efficiently. Navigating through winding passageways and tight maintenance shafts, staying out of sight and trying to avoid detection. The eerie silence of the abandoned sections of the station only heightened their awareness of the danger they were walking into. "USB installed," Eidolon reported in a hushed tone, his voice crackling over the comms. "Let''s get out of here." "Keep it quiet," Shadow reminded the team, his voice a low rumble. "We don''t need any more unwanted attention." As they continued their stealthy advance, Doryani''s gaze caught an EXIT sign pointing to an elevator. "We can take the elevator, it should be the fastest way to the docks," he suggested, glancing at the team. Eidolon suddenly froze, his eyes glazing over as he saw a chilling vision. In his mind''s eye, he witnessed two mechs¡ªone armed with a flamer, the other with a shotgun¡ª engaging the team in the elevator. Panic gripped his chest as he envisioned their demise, trapped and overwhelmed by the sudden assault. "No," he said, his voice firm but quiet. "We can''t take that elevator." Doryani frowned, looking at Eidolon with a mix of confusion and concern. "But... It''s the fastest way out." Eidolon met Doryani''s gaze, his expression serious. "Trust me on this. If we take that elevator, we won''t get out alive. We need to find another way." Atziri considered Eidolon''s words for a moment before nodding. "Alright, we take the long way. Let''s move." The team continued their stealthy advance, each member moving with the grace and agility of trained operatives. They reached a cargo bay without incident, finding it eerily deserted. Inside, they found four mass printers humming with activity, each one churning out a brand-new mech. "Perfect timing," Greasso whispered, her voice barely audible. "Let''s block the entrance and wait for the prints to finish." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. "Atziri''s patience wearing thin as the team set up a defensive perimeter near the cargo bay entrance, waiting for the mechs to finish printing. He glanced over at Doryani and Greasso, frustration evident in his voice. "Block that damn door, now!" Greasso nodded, moving to secure the entrance methodically, checking the mechanisms and ensuring a proper blockade. Meanwhile, Doryani, ever the impatient, strode up to the door controls. "Look, it''s easy," he declared, eyeing two random wires. "Just cross the red wire with the purple one." Greasso shot him a bewildered look. "Doryani, those wires aren''t red or purple¡ª" Before she could finish, Doryani completed his makeshift connection. There was a sudden surge of electricity, shocking him briefly. To everyone''s surprise the door slammed shut with a resounding clunk, sealing them in. Atziri raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. "Well, I''ll be damned. Nice work, Doryani. Now let''s stay focused. I have a feeling that were about to have company coming." "We''ve got about five minutes until these mechs are ready," Greasso said, checking over the printers. As the minutes ticked by, the tension in the cargo bay grew palpable. Atziri''s fist clenched and un-clenched over and over, ready to leap into action at the first sign of trouble. Eidolon''s vision still haunted him, but he remained focused on the task at hand. "Prints are done," Shadow announced quietly. The newly printed mechs stood tall and imposing, their frames gleaming under the cargo bay''s harsh lighting. The team quickly approached their respective machines, ready to climb in and power them up. "Alright, we''re taking the shafts," Atziri ordered, his voice a low whisper. "Stay close and keep it quiet." The team moved with purpose, their footsteps muted by the careful, deliberate movements of their pilots. They reached the entrance to the mine shafts, descending into the icy darkness below. The temperature dropped sharply, frost forming on their exteriors as they made their way deeper into the asteroid. The tunnels twisted and turned, the darkness pressing in around them. Everyone''s senses tingled with unease, a silent warning that they were not alone. "Stay alert," Atziri whispered. "We''re not alone down here." Atziri took point, his weapon ready as they moved deeper into the shafts. Doryani followed closely, his eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of movement. "Multiple contacts ahead," Doryani reported in a hushed tone, his voice tense. "Looks like they''re waiting for us. The team''s advance through the twisting tunnels was met with fierce resistance. Enemy forces, alerted to their presence, swarmed from all directions. Atziri, took a front line role and led the charge with relentless determination, his heavy armor absorbing enemy fire as he pushed forward. Greasso, wielding a shotgun, supported Atziri closely, her precise shots and close-quarters combat skills providing a deadly complement to his aggressive onslaught. "Keep them off us!" Atziri''s voice boomed over the din, directing the team from the front lines as explosions echoed through the tunnels. Shadow, being his usual stealthy sneaky self, maneuvered through the chaos with swift, silent efficiency. He utilized the tunnels'' shadows to his advantage, striking from unexpected angles and neutralizing threats with lethal accuracy. Calculated and fluid movements cleared paths and eliminated enemies with swift, decisive strikes. Doryani, positioned behind the front line, focused on providing support with his cyber warfare. His scans and tactical analysis enabled the team to anticipate enemy movements and vulnerabilities, enhancing their efficiency in combat. "Eidolon, watch our flank!" he shouted over comms, his attention split between monitoring enemy communications and directing defensive measures. Eidolon''s robotic companions darted ahead, their movements synchronized with precision as they engaged foes with calculated maneuvers. Eidolon himself kept a vigilant watch over their perimeter, his mind processing data streams and coordinating the team''s responses. The battle raged on, the team''s cohesion and specialized roles proving crucial as they navigated the treacherous mine shafts. Each member contributed uniquely to their collective defense, their skills and determination driving them forward despite the overwhelming odds. They fought not just for survival, but for victory, their resolve unyielding in the face of Icebreaker''s relentless defenses. "We''re pushing to the exit!" Atziri shouted, his voice ringing with determination amidst the cacophony of battle.