PROLOGUE

VANGUARD FRONTIERS STATION, FADE REGION

PyjamaSam was a galactic anomaly. While brilliant in technical & engineering skills, he was almost inept at combat piloting & social grace. It was this perverse sense of cosmic balance that made him so very interesting to those whom knew him. He liked to consider himself as eclectic, but the deeper truth was that he suffered from several mental disorders, the least of which being obsessive compulsiveness. 

Seven hours ago, his friend Roc Wieler, had dropped by with a most special package. It was a metallic box, obsidian in colour, small enough to carry, but heavy enough to be substantial. It was a Terran relic retrieved months ago on some high level Minmatar black op, and Sam, whom at the time, had only seen it through a brief video comm with Roc, never dreamt that he would actually be tinkering with it now.

The best of the Minmatar Republic were stumped. Their scientists were puzzled. Their engineers perplexed. They all knew what it was on a basic level, it was a DNA computer (DNAC). Deciphering what type of DNA it was, and extracting the untold amounts of data stored on this device was another challenge entirely. Who knew how old this was? Who knew what wonders lay inside of it?

Sam was simply delighted that Roc had thought of him, recommending to his superiors that the box be delivered to Sam, that if anyone could shed some light on this subject, it would be him. What Sam didn’t know was that they had outright refused the request, but Roc, knowing Sam was the one being in the galaxy whom could help, had “appropriated” the device and brought it to him anyway.

Forty One hours left. Roc was crystal clear when handing the device over that Sam had two days to figure it out. He hadn’t questioned it at the time, too enraptured by the DNAC to even have noticed at what point Roc had eventually left. He didn’t know what would happen when his alotted time had elapsed. Would the device cease to function? Would it blow up? Would Roc simply come back and retrieve it? Or was there something more sinister afoot that he hadn’t considered?

In the end, it didn’t matter. He had a job to do, a task to complete. He hadn’t moved from his workstation since commencing his examination of the device, yet sadly he wasn’t any closer to unravelling its mysteries. But he would. He could feel it in his soul. This machine was of great import, and it was his destiny to be a part of it.

Adjusting an overhanging halo lamp, Sam lowered his micro goggles back over his eyes, downed a Quafe soda, hunched over, and got to work.