Salvo Island - Frame Maintenance Depot Frame Breaking and Reclamation Yard

  The former maintenance bay no longer echoed with the whine of diagnostic rigs, cabling or the hiss of hydraulic lines. The overhead cranes stood silent, their hooks dangling like gallows. What had once been functional and pristine Kilo-class frames were now little more than corpses waiting to be added to a graveyard of twisted metal. It didn't matter their prior status or whether they had seen combat. All of the frames were deemed a security risk and slated for decommissioning. Chassis lay stacked on wood pallets, optic arrays staring blankly at the ceiling. Technicians in grease-stained coveralls moved among the wreckage with the efficiency; cutting, tagging, sorting. Anything reusable went into bins. Anything too broken went into the scrap crusher for the material to be reclaimed and reused in the islands industrial centers.

  A technician with the nametape Harlan paused beside a particularly mangled frame The thing had been received recently. The frame was a wreck. Left arm gone at the shoulder, chest plate peeled open like a cracked ribcage, coolant lines ruptured and dried to brittle black veins. It still leaked hydraulic fluid. The once-sleek black plating was scorched matte black in places, pitted with shrapnel scars. One optic lens had shattered completely; the other was spiderwebbed but intact enough to reflect the dim work lights. Harlan knelt, brushing dust from the serial plate bolted to the exposed harddrive.

  The stamping was still legible:

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  K-000013AST

  Core Drive: Sealed

  This one looked like it had taken a direct hit from something nasty, like a building had been dropped on it, and still the core was intact. He waved a diagnostics wand over it. It was identified as one of the compromised models, but the serial ID on the harddrive came back as untampered. In fact, it was listed as having an accomplished record. The powercell was dead but the drive was still drawing a painfully low drip of current from its capacitors. This was strange, it shouldn't have been possible for the frame to adjust to such a low current. Such an act could only be considered a deliberate bid for survival. The machine wanted to live.

  He placed his hand on the drive. He had started his time with the Vanguard preparing these machines when they came off the assembly line and felt a sense of sentimentality towards them. This one was clearly a veteran of some serious action. He couldn't just scrap this one and discard it like the rest. He couldn't do it.

  He looped a tag around the drive and removed it. He held the sealed drive in his gloved hands for a long moment. It was heavier than it looked, denser somehow. the name "Tetsu" had been cleanly etched onto it.

  He walked to the nearest storage rack. Bay 7, high-security: the shelf reserved for anything flagged as “potentially recoverable intelligence” or “anomalous function.” Most of the slots were empty. He slid the drive into an open cradle, secured the retaining clips, and attached the red priority tag.

  CORE DRIVE – K-000013AST

  STATUS: SEALED / LOW-POWER SUSTAIN

  DO NOT DECOMMISSION WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION

  POSSIBLE MEMORY INTACT – AWAITING FORENSIC REVIEW

  "Hold on big guy." He muttered under his breath. "This probably ain't your last rodeo."

  The drive waited.