They found shelter in a narrow, wind-carved cave as the twin moons of Tartarus began their ascent into the bruised purple sky.
The air grew colder, and the alien sounds of the planet's nocturnal predators began to echo through the canyons.
Kaelen stood guard at the mouth of the cave, the jagged metal spear he had salvaged from the crash held loosely in his hand, his senses alert.
Behind him, bathed in the soft glow of a datapad, SC was at work.
The drone's memory core was a marvel of Imperial engineering, it is a black, hexagonal prism designed to withstand extreme temperatures, pressure, and kinetic force.
Its data ports were sealed, accessible only through a proprietary interface that required both hardware and high-level encryption keys.
To a normal technician, it was a paperweight, but to SC, it was a puzzle box.
He didn't have the proper interface, so he improvised.
Using the multi-tool from the survival kit and wiring stripped from the drone's wreckage, he began to construct a crude bypass, his fingers moving with precision.
Kaelen watched him from the corner of his eye.' This was no simple hacker'
SC's knowledge of Imperial hardware was intimate, almost innate. He knew which circuits to splice, which data lines to tap, without consulting any schematics. It was the kind of familiarity that came only from designing such systems, or being trained extensively to defeat them.
After an hour of meticulous work, SC managed to physically connect the core to his datapad. The screen immediately filled with a cascade of scrolling text, a wall of Imperial military-grade encryption.
What followed was a virtuoso performance of cyber warfare. SC's fingers danced across the holographic interface of his datapad. He wasn't using brute-force algorithms or pre-written decryption programs.
He was navigating the code manually, his mind dueling with the machine's logic. He built and dismantled firewalls in seconds, sidestepped logic bombs, and unraveled cryptographic knots, It was like watching a grandmaster play a dozen games of chess simultaneously.
Kaelen, whose own technical knowledge was purely practical and military-focused, could only grasp the periphery of what SC was doing.
But he recognized the pattern. SC wasn't just breaking the encryption; he was attacking it sneakily.
He was finding the flaws, the tiny imperfections in the code left by its human designers, and exploiting them with ruthless efficiency.
The suspicion that had been growing in Kaelen's mind solidified into a near certainty. This man was no common criminal, no low level intelligence agent.
The skill on display was something else entirely, something that belonged to the highest echelons of the Imperial apparatus.
"Almost there," SC murmured, his brow furrowed in concentration. "The core is partitioned. Most of it is just standard patrol telemetry, flight data, sensor logs… useless. But there's a hidden partition, triple encrypted. That's where the real data will be. The drone's specific mission parameters."
He worked for another hour, the silence in the cave broken only by the soft tapping on the datapad and the distant howls of
Tartarus wildlife. Kaelen remained a silent, watchful statue, his presence a steady anchor in the darkness.
He was the shield, while SC was the sword, currently plunged deep into the enemy's digital heart.
Suddenly, SC swore under his breath. "A bio-signature lock. Clever bastards. The final layer of encryption is tied to the designated operator's biometric signature. I can't bypass it. Not without the operator."
Kaelen turned from the cave mouth. "So it's a dead end." The finality in his voice was edged with disappointment.
"No, not a dead end," SC said, a slow, cunning smile spreading across his face. "Just a different kind of lock. The system requires a live biometric signature, but the drone's programming has a failsafe. In the event of the primary operator's death, a secondary command authority can access the logs. An officer with a rank of Major or higher."
He looked up at Kaelen, his eyes gleaming in the datapad's light. "The drone doesn't know you've been stripped of your rank, General. It only knows your genetic markers. Your biometric signature is still on file as an SS+ ranked officer of the Imperial Army."
Kaelen understood immediately. The very system that had condemned him was now the key to unlocking its secrets. The irony was as bitter as the Tartarus air.
"It's a risk," SC warned. "If we access the core using your signature, it will be logged. Anyone who reviews this drone's data will know that you, Prisoner 734, were here and accessed its files. It will paint an even bigger target on your back."
Kaelen walked over and stood beside SC, looking down at the datapad. The target on his back was already the size of a planet. What was one more layer of paint? "Do it,"
he said, his voice a low command.
SC nodded. He reconfigured the interface, and a small, glowing scanner plate materialized from the datapad. "Place your hand here, General."
Kaelen pressed his palm against the plate. The light intensified, and the datapad emitted a series of soft chimes.
On the screen, lines of red text turned green.
Access Granted
Rank Confirmed: General, SS+.
The final wall of encryption dissolved, revealing the data within. Kaelen watched, his suspicion of SC's true identity growing with every passing moment.
This man knew too much, his skills were too refined, and his plans were too audacious.
He was a ghost, but a ghost from the very heart of the Empire.