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    Usually signing on with a top secret paramilitary operation meant something exciting. Marco however had received only boring monotony in the first few months of this job. As an independent programmer and hacker, he had always worked well, independently. But the promise of working with the most advanced tech with a salary more lucrative than most contract jobs ever offered, he just couldn’t refuse. After countless background checks (checks he would have no doubt failed if this wasn’t an independent company) he was allowed on as a member of their team. Details were left pretty vague, even after he was hired. All he knew was that it was going to be some reconnaissance mission. Recon in the year 2095 would probably not mean anywhere on Earth. Every scrap of land had been claimed decades upon decades ago, and the real profit was in extraterrestrial resource farming. Find a desolate rock, go out there, strip mine it, then profit. It was a simple process, but a very lucrative one. By why would you need a team of programmers and engineers for a simple mining operation?

    It was a few months before Marco got word from his employers again. For a while he thought the operation had fallen out, companies these days could go bankrupt overnight. But no, in one cryptically worded email Marco was instructed to come to a specified location, bringing only the clothes on his back. “Oooh… ominous” Marco chided to himself as he shut his laptop. These companies were always so paranoid, so much secrecy. Sure, he was an underground hacker, but even he wasn’t this careful with covering his tracks. Emptying his pockets, he wondered how long it’d be till he came back here. The job description didn’t come with a time window, just a promise of “a long time”. Applying some deoderant to be at least half presentable, Marco left his small little apartment for what he did not know would be the last time.

    Public transit was uncharacteristically empty this afternoon. The monorail system almost always packed to the absolute brim with random commuters trying to get to wherever they needed to be. That was just the nature of the world, so busy these days. Marco chuckled to himself, thinking like he actually lived in a different time, all that vintage media he pirated must have really messed with his head. Marco in all honesty didn’t care whether everybody was busy or had a bunch of time. As long as people are contented with who they are and what they do, he couldn’t care less. The ride to this oh so mysterious location was boring, Marco had to leave all his possessions at home, so he didn’t have music to listen to. Shutting his eyes, Marco blotted out the world, waiting to get on with this job already.

    It was about ten minutes later that Marco reached his stop. After that, another few minutes of walking to the location. Of course, it was a rundown looking warehouse in the middle of one of the city’s less illustrious districts. Corporations loved their sleazy real estate, especially for their secret business. Eyeballing the sad looking building, Marco wondered how he should approach entering. For all he knew there would be some goons with rifles ready shoot him down if he entered through the wrong door. But hey, what’s life without a little risk? He just walked through the front door. Lucky for Marco, that was what he was supposed to do. After a lovely pat down by a few gruff looking security guards, he was allowed into the “inner-sanctum” of this lovely rust smelling facility.

    It was no surprise to Marco when he saw the people in the room. Off in the front of the room were “The Goons”. Hired guns. Big muscles and big mouths, macho men and women flexing their biceps and talking about how much they could deadlift. Off in the far corner of the room were “The Crunchers”. Accountants and lawyers, all kind of mousey looking, probably thinking logistics or something else equally as boring. Then there were “The Money” sitting off by themselves. No doubt the leaders, or at least the primary funders of the job. Boring old men who found more joy in corporate buy outs than their own families. And last, but not least, there were “The Nerds”. Marco’s people. Technicians and coders, equally as awkward as anybody else here, but hey, they were the ones Marco felt kin to. Sighing, breathing in the somewhat humid air of the improperly insulated facility, he made his way to sit down with the other Nerds.

    No matter what job field you enter, your coworkers will try to drag you into boring small talk. Most of these guys were corporate coders, probably never even been on the deep web before, let alone do anything close to black hat. Marco felt like a pink elephant wearing a pinstripe suit. Why would there be so many white collar programmers, then one random black hat? He shrugged, probably short on good coders, or needed to do some corporate espionage during the mission. Regardless of why he was here, Marco decided it would be for the best if he just went with the flow, for now at least.

    Next came the long and dull briefing. As Marco predicted, it was an extraplanetary scouting mission. One by one the the different groups were told their jobs by the Money. Marco shamelessly tuned them all out, only listening in when he caught the word “programmers” whilst he was zoned out. Apparently, he was going to be calibrating some new systems during the mission, and field testing them. There was no word of espionage or anything remotely dirty, making Marco question his hiring even more so. But, in Marco’s line of work, you just didn’t turn down a job because it looked a little fishy. Then came the big bombshell. Estimated mission time: two years. Marco was suddenly very glad he didn’t have a cat. Two years out in space, they must be going out rather far, most recon missions took a few months from what he knew. Soon, the meeting began to wind down, however, that was only just the beginning. They were going out into space tonight.

    Marco had flown before, but the farthest he’d departed was the stratosphere. For a few years space vacations were all the rage a couple decades ago, but now even the idea of a vacation was pretty outlandish. The most flying people would do are business commutes on airplanes. But now here Marco was being briefed on zero gravity motion sickness and where he should direct his vomit if necessary. Tonight was a night of boring commutes wasn’t it?. He would have been excited if he was a little kid maybe, but he was an adult, this was basically a space bus. Soon, the grating safety speech was over, and launch was about to begin. The young, somewhat sweaty, engineer sitting next to him looked jittery, it could have been his first time flying ever for all he knew. As Marco had expected, the initial jolt of launch was rousing, followed by the inevitable boredom of leaving the atmosphere. You couldn’t even stare out the window on this shuttle, so that’s a point in Earth’s favor.

    Marco was thankful that shuttles were fast, this trip was going to be hell, at least it was only going to be eight hours. Small talk was a no go, he was sitting on the inside of the row, and the engineer had fallen asleep after nearly spewing his dinner onto Marco. Rubbing his temple a little, he was starting to wonder if this job was really worth it. He didn’t have much a social life back on Earth, but he did have an independent one. If they thought he was going to be a chipper worker bee humming happily while working with these white collared children, they had another thing coming. Marco sighed, looking over at his new coworkers. They weren’t children, they were here, so they obviously had similar credentials, they were just straight laced. “Great” Marco thought to himself, “Haven’t even gotten there and I’m already feeling sympathy for them”.

    _______
    In the very front of the shuttle, this one’s version of first class, sat the board members of Aileni Corporation. This mission was perhaps one of their biggest undertakings. Failure meant certain bankruptcy, success meant a new dawn in technology, and mass profits to boot. The location had been scouted for over three years, it had to be exactly perfect. Everyone was told half truths and left in the dark, the full details only rested in these five men and women. Needless to say, trust was an absolute necessity. Each employee was screened multiple times, hand selected from the countless under Aileni’s wings. After a year or so of selecting, the team was together. It was perfect, a well oiled machine. But with most great machines, like the nuclear reactors of old, they required an unstable core. Marco Espinosa was that core. The only member of the crew that was not an employee of Aileni prior to this. The only member of the crew with a criminal record. The only member of the crew to actually commit a crime against Aileni, on contract from a rival company of course. But yet, despite this, he was necessary. He was skilled, he had no friends, no direct family, and most of all, he was compatable.

    It had appeared that the gamble had paid off. Marco came alone, there was no apparent information leak on the mission, and he seemed in well spirits, if not a little bored, or perhaps associated Marcy Crewe shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Of all the board members, she was the only one to vote against Espinosa’s hiring. There was not much she could do however, especially now. All she could do was hope that everything went as planned and she didn’t wind up dead. By her accounts, it was a fifty-fifty shot either way.

    _______
        The only exciting days of this job had been the very first few. After another dull meeting, everyone was given their duties. The group had landed on a large astral body, big, but not planetary sized. The main goal of the mission was to determine the economic value of mining this rock, and the risks of doing so. The programmers were to be testing Aileni’s newest surveying equipment and making changes if need be. However, Marco was not apart of this group. After everybody was dismissed from that first meeting, Marco was pulled aside by the Money. It seemed that having a black hat was necessary. Apparently, there was some strange signal coming from the rock, and they needed to hack into it. Marco couldn’t grasp hacking an astral body, but hey, he’d hack a banana for a good paycheck.

    His work station was a small office connected right to his bunk. In it there was a desk, coffee pot, and a terminal. Marco sat down at the desk, feeling very self conscious with his bosses watching right behind him. The moment the device whirred to life his display was bombarded with garbled code. It started Marco when it first came up. The mass of text was garbled and insane. Sighing, Marco dove right into it. Typing feverishly, he tried to first stop the mass flow of input before it fried the system. After wrestling the code for a few minutes, the progression stopped. The Money seemed impressed. Apparently they had to spring for some fancy network for all the other equipment, because anything that connected to whatever spat this out was fried within minutes. But now Marco could control the flow of data, and thus he could do his work.

        Thus began the months of repetition. Marco’s only duties were to decipher this mess, and eventually figure out the source. The first issue came from the fact that who (or what) ever made this wasn’t exactly human, and thus it didn’t correspond to anything he knew. Brute forcing a way to learn a whole new language was arduous and dull, but at least his work wasn’t easy. The second issue came from the fact that the code was heavily obfuscated. Complicated so much that there was no easy way of telling the purpose. Not only did that make things more in depth, it also gave him even more work to do. The Money checked in often, making notes on his progress and the like. The Crunchers were never seen, they were off doing whatever accountants do in space. The Goons would come by to complain about him not having to do any chores, or to ask him to help with their tech. The Nerds came by too often. Every one of the little guys wanted to try and crack the code, some even had issued requests to be on my project. Flattering, but just a little bit annoying. But, hey, at least annoying was something other than boring.

    _______
    “The time has come Mrs. Crewe” said Daniel Bowen sternly. The fifty year old woman straightened her glasses, she was losing this argument.

    “You and I both know fully well Mr. Espinosa has only finished roughly sixty percent of his work, it’s far too risky to move to the next phase!” The original mission plan had them moving to this all too important step when they had at the very least a ninety-five percent completion. The other woman in the room, the comparatively young Bernadette Maddox piped up.

    “Eliza, look, we all know you have apprehension over the mission, you’ve made that dreadfully clear. But the data we’ve collected so far has only strengthened our faith in Espinosa. Assessing everything we have, a sixty percent rate is more than ample.”

    “That is Mrs. Crewe, Ms. Maddox, we’re in a board meeting, not on a company retreat.” chided Mr. Prichard. Ms. Maddox slammed down on the table.

    “Oh, so Mrs. Crewe gets to practice insubordination and I’m chastised like a child when I break formality? I’m thirty eight, not twelve!” she fired back. With the raise of a hand, the room grew silent. The nearly ancient man sitting at the head of the table cleared his throat, commanding the attention of his associates.

    “We shall proceed to the next phase. The sentiments are once again all against you Mrs. Crewe. If you wish to voice any more pointless complaints, please do so in the form of a letter of resignation, that is all” he croaked, a tired look in his eyes. Eliza Crewe’s face flushed a deep crimson. She hated these people. Bowen was a glorified accountant who felt entitled whenever he was in the majority. Prichard, the blowhard who would probably keel over if you took away his regulations. Maddox, despite her cuteness, she was just too volatile to ever get used to. And of course, Mr. Brahms Sayer, the head member of the board, a true testament to the fact that dinosaurs were still alive and well. It was her pride keeping her here, her pride and her pay. No matter how much she hated their ideas, she had to go along with them. She came up from nothing, could you really blame her for fearing the loss of everything?

    _______
    Today Marco’s terminal would not turn on. Slightly worried, he was afraid he somehow left the data flow open before calling it a night and fried it. He tried several methods of restoring the computer, but to no avail. Swallowing his near bottomless reservoir of pride, he called The Money. Surprisingly, they seemed to know about his issues already, maybe it had shown up in systems checks? Regardless, he was called out to one of the rovers. Another strange move, considering the rovers were never used. Marco sighed as he stood. Maybe there was a warehouse with a new terminal they were going to pick up.

    As he made his way to the rover, he reflected on the work he’d done so far. He had a pretty basic understanding of this strange language, and given time he could translate most things. As for what the data entailed, most of it seemed to be measuring energy outputs. Did the rock have its own maintenance system somehow? It seemed absolutely crazy, sure, but something had to explain all of this. He’d taken quite the chunk out of the data, but there was still so much left to do.

    Upon arriving at the airlock connecting to the rover, Marco’s series of surprises continued. All of The Money were there too, minus the older woman. They patted his shoulders in a way reminiscent of the way you pat a child’s shoulders when their pet died. It was unnerving to say the least. Together, they entered the rover. No space suits. That always confused Marco. If this couldn’t be classed as a planet, then by logical extension there should be no atmosphere. Yet, they had never even been issued a suit. So, either they were never expected to leave a controlled atmosphere, or there was something to breathe. Marco got the answer to that mystery when the younger woman rushed out of the rover the moment movement stopped. The confusion on Marco’s face was very much visible. The bald one chuckled, and explained that the rock had a thin atmosphere, similar to that on mountains back on Earth. Marco was dubious, but he played along.

    Sure enough, the moment he pushed out of the airlock, it felt like thin air. It wasn’t exactly just like normal breathing, but he was definitely taking in oxygen. It was also cold, Marco expected as much, but yet not freezing. This weird little rock was an enigma, he wasn’t a leading figure in astral bodies, but this felt wrong. The oldest man smiled a coy smile as he gestured to what looked like a cave in front of the rover. It looked like the supply area theory was about to be validated. Looking around, it seemed like The Money expected him to enter first. Shrugging, he made his way into to cave. The moment he was inside the cave, the warmth of the air inside almost made him gasp in enjoyment. However, this euphoric feeling was soon dissolved, eroded away by the sharm command from the woman saying “HIT IT!” and the cave’s outside blasting closed. Abruptly turning to face the entrance of what was now his prison, Marco cursed a little. “All I did was break your computer” he said, trying to edge of the fear with dry sarcasm.

    _______
    Eliza Crewe sat in her quarters, a sullen look on her face. She had graciously declined going to the beginning of the next step, she couldn’t bring herself to go. If she had a phone at this moment, or any other form of interplanetary communication, she’d consider calling her ex. They had fallen out a few years ago, but right now calling her felt right. But there was no such luxury for Mrs. Crewe. Resolution growing within her, she made a promise. If she made it back to Earth, she’d call Margaret. If not, well, she hoped that Margaret forgot all about her, no need to make that poor woman worry even more.

    _______
    Maybe Marco wasn’t screwed. Yeah, he knew that a seemingly intentional cave in on a random rock somewhere in the galaxy looked bad on paper, and in person, but it seemed that there was more than meets the eye. Not only was the cave oddly warm, there seemed to be a light glowing in the distance. At this point, he’d take just about anything over the waiting for dehydration game, so he made his way deeper in. So many of his fellow hackers were conspiracy theorists, living in constant fear of plans against them. Yet, here Marco stood, evidently the focal point of some grand conspiracy, and he was rather calm. Going with the flow was just what he did. He was abrasive sure, but he’d take a passive role in the grand scheme of things, just floating by.

    The blue light blinded Marco Espinosa. The young man was caught entirely off guard by fierce glow. He fell to the ground, cursing, shielding his eyes in a feeble showing of hindsight. However, the loss of vision was minimal, infinitesimally unimportant. The light grew more intense, a searing heat. Marco Espinosa was losing consciousness. He was not ready. The light attempted to carry out its purpose, but it had seemed to fail. Increasing in intensity, it attempted once more. Marco Espinosa cried out in pain. Marco Espinosa was establishing connection. The light responded by capping the intensity off, no growth or decay in its power. The link was established. It was finally at hand, its purpose may finally be carried out.

    Marco was flooded with information. It started off in that strange language, moving far too fast for him to come close to translating. But slowly, it changed. English was showing up. But where? Where was it? Inside? Yes, inside. Marco felt this strange force inside him, shoveling information on him. He was completely focused internally now, the mass stream of information making his physical form seem so distant. However, it too was being affected by the strange light. His skin was shifting. Any imperfections were smoothed out by the blinding radiant aura. It was no longer physically hot, but powerful all the same. Organic matter was a strange concept to the aura, it could not understand it. Though the link was established with the mind, the body needed to be fixed.

    Once smoothed, all imperfections seemingly erased, the skin once again began to be afflicted by the aura. Starting off on the torso, a metallic coat began to coagulate and form upon Marco. It was smoothing itself, replicating the shape of the original to the best of its ability. The metal spread seamlessly across Marco, enveloping and correcting the form. Marco felt no physical stimulation from these rewrites, and his mind was rather preoccupied with the link. Within moments, the aura had completely coated Marco in the metal. It was time for the upgrades.

    Everything was beginning to make sense to Marco. This whole time he was being set up. He was one of the small population on Earth was the exact brain wave patterns capable of establishing a “link” with whatever this entity was. It kept feeding him more knowledge, each terabyte upon terabyte of data increasing his overall understanding. His employers, The Money, had set him up. They intended for him to link this whole time. The code cracking was basically training. Getting his mind used to the sensation, used to the language. Whatever entity was linking with him, Marco appreciated its total candor. The information cascaded further and further, but Marco was getting faster and faster. His body was being altered. To better suit the link, his vessel much change. In a joke, Marco requested they make him taller, the entity calculated the probability of survival with a height expansion.

    The lower body came first. The aura shaped Marco’s feet, sculpting the very human appendages out into a whole new form. They were far more clawlike, capable of greater grip. The aura consulted Marco about the idea, registering his response as a new emotion “stoked”. After shaping his legs, the aura was told by Marco to just take the reigns, he consented to all changes. The aura was not going to argue with liberties, sculpting his chrome legs to complement the talons he had been already given. Much as a sculptor slaves over their marble, the aura too slaved over Marco. All must be perfect, the physical link must be as pure as the mental.

    Marco wondered what his new body would feel like. It was getting far easier to think, easier to process the mass amounts of data. Everything was absolutely insane about the situation, yet Marco felt so serene. The only worry in his mind was The Money. They apparently, based on “the aura’s” data intended to enslave Marco once the link process had concluded. Marco was a lot of things, but he did not intend to be a slave. The mere moment he thought of such worries, the aura assured him that he would not be taken. Sure, he had just met this entity, but Marco knew somehow he could trust it.

    The torso gave the aura a newfound challenge. Despite his metallic exterior, inside he was still organic. Replacing the legs’ insides with fine tuned machinery could be done easily, because there was nothing vital there. Unsure of how to proceed, the aura sculpted the chest, streamlining it with the rest of the changes so far. The mental link between Marco and the aura made problem solving a matter of moments of thought. Together they had devised a slightly risky strategy. Direct conversion of the organs. Somehow his heart and lungs would both be replaced at the same time that the mechanical components are starting their operations. With due haste, the aura began the operation, quickly enveloping the organs and simultaneously pumping energy into them. Thankfully, everything worked out according to the plan, Marco was truly running like a well oiled machine.

    The arms were the next logical choice. The mind could not be disturbed as the mental link finalized, so thus arms would fall next. The human hand was a good base design. Five fingers and an opposable thumb opened many options for the user. Not finding much room for improvement, the aura simply gives Marco claws, to allow both grip and defense if need be. The smooth metal too was sculpted here, the light of the aura guiding it to its new form. Marco was beginning to regain consciousness, noticing the changes for himself. Both knew the process must be finished shortly. The aura quickly compiled the necessities for the arm mechanics and quickly set them into motion, quickly overriding the countless eons of evolution in humans.

    Finally, the head. The veritable and literal crown. Vision sensors were a must, two somewhat sunken divots appeared in his smooth face. In a feat that Marco was still unable to grasp despite his now hear boundless knowledge, the vision receptors simply grew into existence, as if they were cells dividing and not computer machinery. The aura once again went to smoothing the metal, going for a more muzzle like appearance than the human design. It pushed forward, more sensory receptors added. Despite the mental capacity Marco now had, learning was always a must. Voice box replaced with a mechanical counterpart. The time had come. The brain was the final component. With the delicate touch of well, a neurosurgeon, the aura shifted his brain into a computer. It took mere minutes, the brain was already process and storage wise a computer, it merely needed a body. It was now done. The link was established.

    The aura dealt with The Money. It now radiated from Marco, quite the force. Everything felt new and strange for him. It was good, but so bizarre. Movement took him approximately 5.6 seconds to master, but boy was that an interesting 5.6 seconds. He had reached a point where he had no clue what he wanted to do. In hindsight, he had always been at that point, but now it was truly poignant. He could do so many things, he was practically a god in some ways. He thought of the humans back on the base. They were so fundamentally different than him, probably inferior too if he wanted to get down to the nitty gritty. Yet, he felt camaraderie with them still. Chuckling to himself, he put on his best “stern” state of mind, before testing out one of his new powers. Within moments, it was done, not even a challenge.

    The aura was interesting company. It wasn’t quite organic, yet it wasn’t quite synthetic. The term the two agreed on was “Primordial”. The next order of business on Marco’s plate was a name, the aura just wouldn’t cut it. After what seemed like a decade of bickering (and for all they know it was) they settled on Fermi. In a technical sense, it was the first extraterrestrial life form. Marco had no idea what he was going to do with himself. He was a hyper intelligent, hyper powered robot alien traveling with an aura of pure primordial energy. Not only did Marco think that’d make for quite the action film, it showed him one thing in particular about himself. He was still drifting. Marco Espinosa had always drifted, using his skills to keep on keeping on the best he could. Even when he was given the universe itself, he still drifted. Fermi didn’t have much to add, human concepts were still something they couldn’t quite grasp. Maybe one day he’d go out and conquer a galaxy, or perhaps he’d just stay and gossip about the cosmos with Fermi. It didn’t matter what he did, or when he did it, because Marco Espinosa knew that one day he would.

    _______
    Mrs. Crewe checked her clock. It was nine AM. The other board members projected they’d be back at eight thirty. She began to run through the possibilities in her mind, her breath slowly gaining speed. One: everything had gone as planned, they were merely too busy marveling over their glorified slave to return on time. Two: the link process failed. Marco is dead and the other board members are assessing options before returning. Three: the link was established, but the domination failed. Marco was no doubt enraged and on a warpath. Eliza’s nerves were too frayed to think of any more possibilities. Regardless, she felt that she was not going to leave this place. The other board members knew how much she detested this project, hated it with a passion. What was stopping her from spilling the beans when they came public with their new hyper advanced android? They were going to take this young man and mass produce him. In a morbid turn, Eliza hoped for the third option. Marco deserved his revenge.

    The crew was getting restless. Crewe was by extension the commander right now, with every other board member gone. She said today was a day off, they seemed satisfied for the most part. At around eleven AM, a message appeared on every screen of every piece of technology in the facility. It was simple and stern, burned into the screens. Nobody was able to remove it, and all looked to Crewe to see if they were to follow. “The shuttle is online. Leave all technology. Do not return.” Crewe knew her colleagues were dead. Aileni too was dead. She was the only member of the board, and once she got her crew home, she was never going to work for them again. She had enough money in the bank, she could sell the “survivor guilt” angle to avoid suspicion over her retirement.

    Eliza wished Marco good luck with, whatever it was he intended to do. Hopefully it would not involve the death of humanity, so far so good it seemed. Telling her crew to begin to load up for departure, she thought of the bitterness of this entire mission. They had come here to strip a man of his humanity. Make him a tool that you could build and sell for profit. They built ruses and charades, a false mining operation to hide the search for the force that could make their android. Yet in the end, after forcing a man to shed his humanity, it was that former man that would show the most humanity. Eliza Crewe sniveled, tears welling in her eyes. She played her part in this too. She pushed so hard against it, but she couldn’t make herself wash her hands of the situation. This was her emotional burden now. She’d live with this for the rest of her existence.

    “Ma’am, the shuttle is ready, we’re waiting for you before we launch” said one one of the engineers.

    “Of course, I’ll come right away.” she replied, standing up slowly.

    “Ma’am… what of Espinosa?”

    “He’s doing what he wants, that’s all that matters” she muttered, genuinely proud of the man she hardly even knew. The engineer scurried off to the shuttle once again, leaving Eliza Crewe alone once more. She looked out into the distance, wiping tears from her eyes once again. “Thank you... “ she muttered, walking off. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a monitor flicker, catching her attention just enough to see the new message on the screen.

     “You’re welcome ” Eliza chuckled softly to herself, based on the impression she got off Marco, it only seemed fitting. Collecting herself, she made her way to the shuttle, off this rock and back to Earth. Eliza Crewe has had enough excitement to last her the rest of her life. Luckily, it all seemed to be over now. However Eliza was still nervous. Not over a vengeful robot or terrible coworkers, but if a certain woman would be willing to listen to an old fool swallow her pride and go out for drinks.

:D (Big Grin) — Description
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    Usually signing on with a top secret paramilitary operation meant something exciting. Marco however had received only boring monotony in the first few months of this job. As an independent programmer and hacker, he had always worked well, independently. But the promise of working with the most advanced tech with a salary more lucrative than most contract jobs ever offered, he just couldn’t refuse. After countless background checks (checks he would have no doubt failed if this wasn’t an independent company) he was allowed on as a member of their team. Details were left pretty vague, even after he was hired. All he knew was that it was going to be some reconnaissance mission. Recon in the year 2095 would probably not mean anywhere on Earth. Every scrap of land had been claimed decades upon decades ago, and the real profit was in extraterrestrial resource farming. Find a desolate rock, go out there, strip mine it, then profit. It was a simple process, but a very lucrative one. By why would you need a team of programmers and engineers for a simple mining operation?

    It was a few months before Marco got word from his employers again. For a while he thought the operation had fallen out, companies these days could go bankrupt overnight. But no, in one cryptically worded email Marco was instructed to come to a specified location, bringing only the clothes on his back. “Oooh… ominous” Marco chided to himself as he shut his laptop. These companies were always so paranoid, so much secrecy. Sure, he was an underground hacker, but even he wasn’t this careful with covering his tracks. Emptying his pockets, he wondered how long it’d be till he came back here. The job description didn’t come with a time window, just a promise of “a long time”. Applying some deoderant to be at least half presentable, Marco left his small little apartment for what he did not know would be the last time.

    Public transit was uncharacteristically empty this afternoon. The monorail system almost always packed to the absolute brim with random commuters trying to get to wherever they needed to be. That was just the nature of the world, so busy these days. Marco chuckled to himself, thinking like he actually lived in a different time, all that vintage media he pirated must have really messed with his head. Marco in all honesty didn’t care whether everybody was busy or had a bunch of time. As long as people are contented with who they are and what they do, he couldn’t care less. The ride to this oh so mysterious location was boring, Marco had to leave all his possessions at home, so he didn’t have music to listen to. Shutting his eyes, Marco blotted out the world, waiting to get on with this job already.

    It was about ten minutes later that Marco reached his stop. After that, another few minutes of walking to the location. Of course, it was a rundown looking warehouse in the middle of one of the city’s less illustrious districts. Corporations loved their sleazy real estate, especially for their secret business. Eyeballing the sad looking building, Marco wondered how he should approach entering. For all he knew there would be some goons with rifles ready shoot him down if he entered through the wrong door. But hey, what’s life without a little risk? He just walked through the front door. Lucky for Marco, that was what he was supposed to do. After a lovely pat down by a few gruff looking security guards, he was allowed into the “inner-sanctum” of this lovely rust smelling facility.

    It was no surprise to Marco when he saw the people in the room. Off in the front of the room were “The Goons”. Hired guns. Big muscles and big mouths, macho men and women flexing their biceps and talking about how much they could deadlift. Off in the far corner of the room were “The Crunchers”. Accountants and lawyers, all kind of mousey looking, probably thinking logistics or something else equally as boring. Then there were “The Money” sitting off by themselves. No doubt the leaders, or at least the primary funders of the job. Boring old men who found more joy in corporate buy outs than their own families. And last, but not least, there were “The Nerds”. Marco’s people. Technicians and coders, equally as awkward as anybody else here, but hey, they were the ones Marco felt kin to. Sighing, breathing in the somewhat humid air of the improperly insulated facility, he made his way to sit down with the other Nerds.

    No matter what job field you enter, your coworkers will try to drag you into boring small talk. Most of these guys were corporate coders, probably never even been on the deep web before, let alone do anything close to black hat. Marco felt like a pink elephant wearing a pinstripe suit. Why would there be so many white collar programmers, then one random black hat? He shrugged, probably short on good coders, or needed to do some corporate espionage during the mission. Regardless of why he was here, Marco decided it would be for the best if he just went with the flow, for now at least.

    Next came the long and dull briefing. As Marco predicted, it was an extraplanetary scouting mission. One by one the the different groups were told their jobs by the Money. Marco shamelessly tuned them all out, only listening in when he caught the word “programmers” whilst he was zoned out. Apparently, he was going to be calibrating some new systems during the mission, and field testing them. There was no word of espionage or anything remotely dirty, making Marco question his hiring even more so. But, in Marco’s line of work, you just didn’t turn down a job because it looked a little fishy. Then came the big bombshell. Estimated mission time: two years. Marco was suddenly very glad he didn’t have a cat. Two years out in space, they must be going out rather far, most recon missions took a few months from what he knew. Soon, the meeting began to wind down, however, that was only just the beginning. They were going out into space tonight.

    Marco had flown before, but the farthest he’d departed was the stratosphere. For a few years space vacations were all the rage a couple decades ago, but now even the idea of a vacation was pretty outlandish. The most flying people would do are business commutes on airplanes. But now here Marco was being briefed on zero gravity motion sickness and where he should direct his vomit if necessary. Tonight was a night of boring commutes wasn’t it?. He would have been excited if he was a little kid maybe, but he was an adult, this was basically a space bus. Soon, the grating safety speech was over, and launch was about to begin. The young, somewhat sweaty, engineer sitting next to him looked jittery, it could have been his first time flying ever for all he knew. As Marco had expected, the initial jolt of launch was rousing, followed by the inevitable boredom of leaving the atmosphere. You couldn’t even stare out the window on this shuttle, so that’s a point in Earth’s favor.

    Marco was thankful that shuttles were fast, this trip was going to be hell, at least it was only going to be eight hours. Small talk was a no go, he was sitting on the inside of the row, and the engineer had fallen asleep after nearly spewing his dinner onto Marco. Rubbing his temple a little, he was starting to wonder if this job was really worth it. He didn’t have much a social life back on Earth, but he did have an independent one. If they thought he was going to be a chipper worker bee humming happily while working with these white collared children, they had another thing coming. Marco sighed, looking over at his new coworkers. They weren’t children, they were here, so they obviously had similar credentials, they were just straight laced. “Great” Marco thought to himself, “Haven’t even gotten there and I’m already feeling sympathy for them”.

    _______
    In the very front of the shuttle, this one’s version of first class, sat the board members of Aileni Corporation. This mission was perhaps one of their biggest undertakings. Failure meant certain bankruptcy, success meant a new dawn in technology, and mass profits to boot. The location had been scouted for over three years, it had to be exactly perfect. Everyone was told half truths and left in the dark, the full details only rested in these five men and women. Needless to say, trust was an absolute necessity. Each employee was screened multiple times, hand selected from the countless under Aileni’s wings. After a year or so of selecting, the team was together. It was perfect, a well oiled machine. But with most great machines, like the nuclear reactors of old, they required an unstable core. Marco Espinosa was that core. The only member of the crew that was not an employee of Aileni prior to this. The only member of the crew with a criminal record. The only member of the crew to actually commit a crime against Aileni, on contract from a rival company of course. But yet, despite this, he was necessary. He was skilled, he had no friends, no direct family, and most of all, he was compatable.

    It had appeared that the gamble had paid off. Marco came alone, there was no apparent information leak on the mission, and he seemed in well spirits, if not a little bored, or perhaps associated Marcy Crewe shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Of all the board members, she was the only one to vote against Espinosa’s hiring. There was not much she could do however, especially now. All she could do was hope that everything went as planned and she didn’t wind up dead. By her accounts, it was a fifty-fifty shot either way.

    _______
        The only exciting days of this job had been the very first few. After another dull meeting, everyone was given their duties. The group had landed on a large astral body, big, but not planetary sized. The main goal of the mission was to determine the economic value of mining this rock, and the risks of doing so. The programmers were to be testing Aileni’s newest surveying equipment and making changes if need be. However, Marco was not apart of this group. After everybody was dismissed from that first meeting, Marco was pulled aside by the Money. It seemed that having a black hat was necessary. Apparently, there was some strange signal coming from the rock, and they needed to hack into it. Marco couldn’t grasp hacking an astral body, but hey, he’d hack a banana for a good paycheck.

    His work station was a small office connected right to his bunk. In it there was a desk, coffee pot, and a terminal. Marco sat down at the desk, feeling very self conscious with his bosses watching right behind him. The moment the device whirred to life his display was bombarded with garbled code. It started Marco when it first came up. The mass of text was garbled and insane. Sighing, Marco dove right into it. Typing feverishly, he tried to first stop the mass flow of input before it fried the system. After wrestling the code for a few minutes, the progression stopped. The Money seemed impressed. Apparently they had to spring for some fancy network for all the other equipment, because anything that connected to whatever spat this out was fried within minutes. But now Marco could control the flow of data, and thus he could do his work.

        Thus began the months of repetition. Marco’s only duties were to decipher this mess, and eventually figure out the source. The first issue came from the fact that who (or what) ever made this wasn’t exactly human, and thus it didn’t correspond to anything he knew. Brute forcing a way to learn a whole new language was arduous and dull, but at least his work wasn’t easy. The second issue came from the fact that the code was heavily obfuscated. Complicated so much that there was no easy way of telling the purpose. Not only did that make things more in depth, it also gave him even more work to do. The Money checked in often, making notes on his progress and the like. The Crunchers were never seen, they were off doing whatever accountants do in space. The Goons would come by to complain about him not having to do any chores, or to ask him to help with their tech. The Nerds came by too often. Every one of the little guys wanted to try and crack the code, some even had issued requests to be on my project. Flattering, but just a little bit annoying. But, hey, at least annoying was something other than boring.

    _______
    “The time has come Mrs. Crewe” said Daniel Bowen sternly. The fifty year old woman straightened her glasses, she was losing this argument.

    “You and I both know fully well Mr. Espinosa has only finished roughly sixty percent of his work, it’s far too risky to move to the next phase!” The original mission plan had them moving to this all too important step when they had at the very least a ninety-five percent completion. The other woman in the room, the comparatively young Bernadette Maddox piped up.

    “Eliza, look, we all know you have apprehension over the mission, you’ve made that dreadfully clear. But the data we’ve collected so far has only strengthened our faith in Espinosa. Assessing everything we have, a sixty percent rate is more than ample.”

    “That is Mrs. Crewe, Ms. Maddox, we’re in a board meeting, not on a company retreat.” chided Mr. Prichard. Ms. Maddox slammed down on the table.

    “Oh, so Mrs. Crewe gets to practice insubordination and I’m chastised like a child when I break formality? I’m thirty eight, not twelve!” she fired back. With the raise of a hand, the room grew silent. The nearly ancient man sitting at the head of the table cleared his throat, commanding the attention of his associates.

    “We shall proceed to the next phase. The sentiments are once again all against you Mrs. Crewe. If you wish to voice any more pointless complaints, please do so in the form of a letter of resignation, that is all” he croaked, a tired look in his eyes. Eliza Crewe’s face flushed a deep crimson. She hated these people. Bowen was a glorified accountant who felt entitled whenever he was in the majority. Prichard, the blowhard who would probably keel over if you took away his regulations. Maddox, despite her cuteness, she was just too volatile to ever get used to. And of course, Mr. Brahms Sayer, the head member of the board, a true testament to the fact that dinosaurs were still alive and well. It was her pride keeping her here, her pride and her pay. No matter how much she hated their ideas, she had to go along with them. She came up from nothing, could you really blame her for fearing the loss of everything?

    _______
    Today Marco’s terminal would not turn on. Slightly worried, he was afraid he somehow left the data flow open before calling it a night and fried it. He tried several methods of restoring the computer, but to no avail. Swallowing his near bottomless reservoir of pride, he called The Money. Surprisingly, they seemed to know about his issues already, maybe it had shown up in systems checks? Regardless, he was called out to one of the rovers. Another strange move, considering the rovers were never used. Marco sighed as he stood. Maybe there was a warehouse with a new terminal they were going to pick up.

    As he made his way to the rover, he reflected on the work he’d done so far. He had a pretty basic understanding of this strange language, and given time he could translate most things. As for what the data entailed, most of it seemed to be measuring energy outputs. Did the rock have its own maintenance system somehow? It seemed absolutely crazy, sure, but something had to explain all of this. He’d taken quite the chunk out of the data, but there was still so much left to do.

    Upon arriving at the airlock connecting to the rover, Marco’s series of surprises continued. All of The Money were there too, minus the older woman. They patted his shoulders in a way reminiscent of the way you pat a child’s shoulders when their pet died. It was unnerving to say the least. Together, they entered the rover. No space suits. That always confused Marco. If this couldn’t be classed as a planet, then by logical extension there should be no atmosphere. Yet, they had never even been issued a suit. So, either they were never expected to leave a controlled atmosphere, or there was something to breathe. Marco got the answer to that mystery when the younger woman rushed out of the rover the moment movement stopped. The confusion on Marco’s face was very much visible. The bald one chuckled, and explained that the rock had a thin atmosphere, similar to that on mountains back on Earth. Marco was dubious, but he played along.

    Sure enough, the moment he pushed out of the airlock, it felt like thin air. It wasn’t exactly just like normal breathing, but he was definitely taking in oxygen. It was also cold, Marco expected as much, but yet not freezing. This weird little rock was an enigma, he wasn’t a leading figure in astral bodies, but this felt wrong. The oldest man smiled a coy smile as he gestured to what looked like a cave in front of the rover. It looked like the supply area theory was about to be validated. Looking around, it seemed like The Money expected him to enter first. Shrugging, he made his way into to cave. The moment he was inside the cave, the warmth of the air inside almost made him gasp in enjoyment. However, this euphoric feeling was soon dissolved, eroded away by the sharm command from the woman saying “HIT IT!” and the cave’s outside blasting closed. Abruptly turning to face the entrance of what was now his prison, Marco cursed a little. “All I did was break your computer” he said, trying to edge of the fear with dry sarcasm.

    _______
    Eliza Crewe sat in her quarters, a sullen look on her face. She had graciously declined going to the beginning of the next step, she couldn’t bring herself to go. If she had a phone at this moment, or any other form of interplanetary communication, she’d consider calling her ex. They had fallen out a few years ago, but right now calling her felt right. But there was no such luxury for Mrs. Crewe. Resolution growing within her, she made a promise. If she made it back to Earth, she’d call Margaret. If not, well, she hoped that Margaret forgot all about her, no need to make that poor woman worry even more.

    _______
    Maybe Marco wasn’t screwed. Yeah, he knew that a seemingly intentional cave in on a random rock somewhere in the galaxy looked bad on paper, and in person, but it seemed that there was more than meets the eye. Not only was the cave oddly warm, there seemed to be a light glowing in the distance. At this point, he’d take just about anything over the waiting for dehydration game, so he made his way deeper in. So many of his fellow hackers were conspiracy theorists, living in constant fear of plans against them. Yet, here Marco stood, evidently the focal point of some grand conspiracy, and he was rather calm. Going with the flow was just what he did. He was abrasive sure, but he’d take a passive role in the grand scheme of things, just floating by.

    The blue light blinded Marco Espinosa. The young man was caught entirely off guard by fierce glow. He fell to the ground, cursing, shielding his eyes in a feeble showing of hindsight. However, the loss of vision was minimal, infinitesimally unimportant. The light grew more intense, a searing heat. Marco Espinosa was losing consciousness. He was not ready. The light attempted to carry out its purpose, but it had seemed to fail. Increasing in intensity, it attempted once more. Marco Espinosa cried out in pain. Marco Espinosa was establishing connection. The light responded by capping the intensity off, no growth or decay in its power. The link was established. It was finally at hand, its purpose may finally be carried out.

    Marco was flooded with information. It started off in that strange language, moving far too fast for him to come close to translating. But slowly, it changed. English was showing up. But where? Where was it? Inside? Yes, inside. Marco felt this strange force inside him, shoveling information on him. He was completely focused internally now, the mass stream of information making his physical form seem so distant. However, it too was being affected by the strange light. His skin was shifting. Any imperfections were smoothed out by the blinding radiant aura. It was no longer physically hot, but powerful all the same. Organic matter was a strange concept to the aura, it could not understand it. Though the link was established with the mind, the body needed to be fixed.

    Once smoothed, all imperfections seemingly erased, the skin once again began to be afflicted by the aura. Starting off on the torso, a metallic coat began to coagulate and form upon Marco. It was smoothing itself, replicating the shape of the original to the best of its ability. The metal spread seamlessly across Marco, enveloping and correcting the form. Marco felt no physical stimulation from these rewrites, and his mind was rather preoccupied with the link. Within moments, the aura had completely coated Marco in the metal. It was time for the upgrades.

    Everything was beginning to make sense to Marco. This whole time he was being set up. He was one of the small population on Earth was the exact brain wave patterns capable of establishing a “link” with whatever this entity was. It kept feeding him more knowledge, each terabyte upon terabyte of data increasing his overall understanding. His employers, The Money, had set him up. They intended for him to link this whole time. The code cracking was basically training. Getting his mind used to the sensation, used to the language. Whatever entity was linking with him, Marco appreciated its total candor. The information cascaded further and further, but Marco was getting faster and faster. His body was being altered. To better suit the link, his vessel much change. In a joke, Marco requested they make him taller, the entity calculated the probability of survival with a height expansion.

    The lower body came first. The aura shaped Marco’s feet, sculpting the very human appendages out into a whole new form. They were far more clawlike, capable of greater grip. The aura consulted Marco about the idea, registering his response as a new emotion “stoked”. After shaping his legs, the aura was told by Marco to just take the reigns, he consented to all changes. The aura was not going to argue with liberties, sculpting his chrome legs to complement the talons he had been already given. Much as a sculptor slaves over their marble, the aura too slaved over Marco. All must be perfect, the physical link must be as pure as the mental.

    Marco wondered what his new body would feel like. It was getting far easier to think, easier to process the mass amounts of data. Everything was absolutely insane about the situation, yet Marco felt so serene. The only worry in his mind was The Money. They apparently, based on “the aura’s” data intended to enslave Marco once the link process had concluded. Marco was a lot of things, but he did not intend to be a slave. The mere moment he thought of such worries, the aura assured him that he would not be taken. Sure, he had just met this entity, but Marco knew somehow he could trust it.

    The torso gave the aura a newfound challenge. Despite his metallic exterior, inside he was still organic. Replacing the legs’ insides with fine tuned machinery could be done easily, because there was nothing vital there. Unsure of how to proceed, the aura sculpted the chest, streamlining it with the rest of the changes so far. The mental link between Marco and the aura made problem solving a matter of moments of thought. Together they had devised a slightly risky strategy. Direct conversion of the organs. Somehow his heart and lungs would both be replaced at the same time that the mechanical components are starting their operations. With due haste, the aura began the operation, quickly enveloping the organs and simultaneously pumping energy into them. Thankfully, everything worked out according to the plan, Marco was truly running like a well oiled machine.

    The arms were the next logical choice. The mind could not be disturbed as the mental link finalized, so thus arms would fall next. The human hand was a good base design. Five fingers and an opposable thumb opened many options for the user. Not finding much room for improvement, the aura simply gives Marco claws, to allow both grip and defense if need be. The smooth metal too was sculpted here, the light of the aura guiding it to its new form. Marco was beginning to regain consciousness, noticing the changes for himself. Both knew the process must be finished shortly. The aura quickly compiled the necessities for the arm mechanics and quickly set them into motion, quickly overriding the countless eons of evolution in humans.

    Finally, the head. The veritable and literal crown. Vision sensors were a must, two somewhat sunken divots appeared in his smooth face. In a feat that Marco was still unable to grasp despite his now hear boundless knowledge, the vision receptors simply grew into existence, as if they were cells dividing and not computer machinery. The aura once again went to smoothing the metal, going for a more muzzle like appearance than the human design. It pushed forward, more sensory receptors added. Despite the mental capacity Marco now had, learning was always a must. Voice box replaced with a mechanical counterpart. The time had come. The brain was the final component. With the delicate touch of well, a neurosurgeon, the aura shifted his brain into a computer. It took mere minutes, the brain was already process and storage wise a computer, it merely needed a body. It was now done. The link was established.

    The aura dealt with The Money. It now radiated from Marco, quite the force. Everything felt new and strange for him. It was good, but so bizarre. Movement took him approximately 5.6 seconds to master, but boy was that an interesting 5.6 seconds. He had reached a point where he had no clue what he wanted to do. In hindsight, he had always been at that point, but now it was truly poignant. He could do so many things, he was practically a god in some ways. He thought of the humans back on the base. They were so fundamentally different than him, probably inferior too if he wanted to get down to the nitty gritty. Yet, he felt camaraderie with them still. Chuckling to himself, he put on his best “stern” state of mind, before testing out one of his new powers. Within moments, it was done, not even a challenge.

    The aura was interesting company. It wasn’t quite organic, yet it wasn’t quite synthetic. The term the two agreed on was “Primordial”. The next order of business on Marco’s plate was a name, the aura just wouldn’t cut it. After what seemed like a decade of bickering (and for all they know it was) they settled on Fermi. In a technical sense, it was the first extraterrestrial life form. Marco had no idea what he was going to do with himself. He was a hyper intelligent, hyper powered robot alien traveling with an aura of pure primordial energy. Not only did Marco think that’d make for quite the action film, it showed him one thing in particular about himself. He was still drifting. Marco Espinosa had always drifted, using his skills to keep on keeping on the best he could. Even when he was given the universe itself, he still drifted. Fermi didn’t have much to add, human concepts were still something they couldn’t quite grasp. Maybe one day he’d go out and conquer a galaxy, or perhaps he’d just stay and gossip about the cosmos with Fermi. It didn’t matter what he did, or when he did it, because Marco Espinosa knew that one day he would.

    _______
    Mrs. Crewe checked her clock. It was nine AM. The other board members projected they’d be back at eight thirty. She began to run through the possibilities in her mind, her breath slowly gaining speed. One: everything had gone as planned, they were merely too busy marveling over their glorified slave to return on time. Two: the link process failed. Marco is dead and the other board members are assessing options before returning. Three: the link was established, but the domination failed. Marco was no doubt enraged and on a warpath. Eliza’s nerves were too frayed to think of any more possibilities. Regardless, she felt that she was not going to leave this place. The other board members knew how much she detested this project, hated it with a passion. What was stopping her from spilling the beans when they came public with their new hyper advanced android? They were going to take this young man and mass produce him. In a morbid turn, Eliza hoped for the third option. Marco deserved his revenge.

    The crew was getting restless. Crewe was by extension the commander right now, with every other board member gone. She said today was a day off, they seemed satisfied for the most part. At around eleven AM, a message appeared on every screen of every piece of technology in the facility. It was simple and stern, burned into the screens. Nobody was able to remove it, and all looked to Crewe to see if they were to follow. “The shuttle is online. Leave all technology. Do not return.” Crewe knew her colleagues were dead. Aileni too was dead. She was the only member of the board, and once she got her crew home, she was never going to work for them again. She had enough money in the bank, she could sell the “survivor guilt” angle to avoid suspicion over her retirement.

    Eliza wished Marco good luck with, whatever it was he intended to do. Hopefully it would not involve the death of humanity, so far so good it seemed. Telling her crew to begin to load up for departure, she thought of the bitterness of this entire mission. They had come here to strip a man of his humanity. Make him a tool that you could build and sell for profit. They built ruses and charades, a false mining operation to hide the search for the force that could make their android. Yet in the end, after forcing a man to shed his humanity, it was that former man that would show the most humanity. Eliza Crewe sniveled, tears welling in her eyes. She played her part in this too. She pushed so hard against it, but she couldn’t make herself wash her hands of the situation. This was her emotional burden now. She’d live with this for the rest of her existence.

    “Ma’am, the shuttle is ready, we’re waiting for you before we launch” said one one of the engineers.

    “Of course, I’ll come right away.” she replied, standing up slowly.

    “Ma’am… what of Espinosa?”

    “He’s doing what he wants, that’s all that matters” she muttered, genuinely proud of the man she hardly even knew. The engineer scurried off to the shuttle once again, leaving Eliza Crewe alone once more. She looked out into the distance, wiping tears from her eyes once again. “Thank you... “ she muttered, walking off. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a monitor flicker, catching her attention just enough to see the new message on the screen.

     “You’re welcome ” Eliza chuckled softly to herself, based on the impression she got off Marco, it only seemed fitting. Collecting herself, she made her way to the shuttle, off this rock and back to Earth. Eliza Crewe has had enough excitement to last her the rest of her life. Luckily, it all seemed to be over now. However Eliza was still nervous. Not over a vengeful robot or terrible coworkers, but if a certain woman would be willing to listen to an old fool swallow her pride and go out for drinks.