The cold, metallic corridors of StellarCore hummed faintly with the sound of machinery and the distant echo of production lines. Diana Kessler walked briskly, her head low, her heart racing. She clutched a small maintenance tablet to her chest, the weight of her sabotage hanging heavy on her shoulders. The countdown had begun, but the unease that gripped her wasn't from fear of getting caught—it was the stealth-class mechs she'd stumbled upon.
Each step echoed louder than it should, or so it felt. Her boots clicked against the polished floors as she moved through the labyrinthine factory toward the exit. A thousand questions raced through her mind: Why hadn't these stealth-class mechs been in the production logs she studied? Were they prototypes? Or was StellarCore hiding something far more sinister?
The thought unsettled her. She wasn't new to the shadowy dealings of the corporate world, but this felt different. She'd always known StellarCore had secrets; after all, they thrived on cutting-edge technology. But stealth-class Titan mechs? The implications were staggering.
She had to know more.
The hallway ahead was lined with security cameras, their red lights blinking in a slow, methodical rhythm. Diana tilted her head downward, letting her long dark hair obscure her face. The maintenance tablet she carried contained a looping script to scramble facial recognition software, but the added precaution was a habit born of years in the field. No system was foolproof, and StellarCore's was far more advanced than most.
Reaching a maintenance junction, she veered right, entering a quieter section of the facility. The hum of the production line faded, replaced by the faint hiss of ventilation shafts. She was heading toward her quarters—a small, windowless cell she had called home for months. Normally, she would have felt relieved to be so close to safety, but her thoughts lingered on what she had seen.
The stealth-class designation wasn't just a curiosity; it was a threat. If those mechs were deployed, they could devastate UOP forces. Their advanced cloaking systems and energy-efficient cores would render them virtually undetectable, even by the most sophisticated sensors. Diana clenched her fists as she walked, the tablet's hard edges digging into her palms.
I need to find out more. If I don't, this war will never end.
She entered her quarters and locked the door behind her. The room was sparse, with a narrow cot, a small desk cluttered with tools, and a storage locker containing her few possessions. She sat on the edge of the cot, her mind racing.
Her original plan had been simple: sabotage the Titan-class mechs and disappear before anyone noticed. But now? Now, she couldn't leave without investigating the stealth-class prototypes.
She opened the tablet and accessed the facility's internal network, her fingers flying over the screen. Security logs, production schedules, and inventory manifests scrolled by as she searched for any mention of the stealth-class units.
Nothing.
It was as though they didn't exist.
Frustration welled up inside her. StellarCore was good—too good. If they were hiding something, it would take more than standard access credentials to uncover it. Diana leaned back, staring at the ceiling. She needed a new approach.
The Stealth-Class Hangar
Later that night, Diana found herself standing outside a restricted hangar, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had donned a maintenance uniform to blend in, a toolbelt slung low on her hips. The tablet in her hand displayed a falsified work order, granting her temporary access to the hangar.
A security drone hovered nearby, its blue light scanning the area. Diana waited for it to pass before stepping forward and swiping her access badge. The hangar doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a cavernous space bathed in dim, sterile light.
Inside, rows of massive mechs stood silent and imposing. Unlike the bulky, utilitarian designs of the standard Titan-class models, these mechs were sleek and angular, their armor coated in a matte black material that seemed to absorb light. Golden accents ran along their edges, giving them an almost regal appearance.
Diana's breath caught in her throat.
Stealth-class Titans.
Each mech stood nearly fifteen meters tall, dwarfing even the largest models she had worked on. Their limbs were fitted with advanced thrusters, and their weapons systems were unlike anything she had seen before.
She approached one of the units, her boots echoing in the vast space. A small access panel on the mech's leg caught her eye. She pulled a screwdriver from her belt and pried it open, revealing a nest of wires and circuit boards.
Her fingers trembled as she connected the tablet to the mech's system. Lines of code scrolled across the screen, and she began searching for the mech's operational parameters.
What she found made her blood run cold.
The mechs weren't just equipped with cloaking technology—they had neural interface systems far more advanced than anything currently in use. These systems allowed the mechs to operate autonomously, even after their pilots were incapacitated. It was the same technology rumored to be in development by ChipLab—the kind that could function after the death of the pilot.
"Monsters," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Her mind raced. If these mechs were deployed, they wouldn't just give the CMC an edge—they would obliterate the UOP forces.
The First Signs of Discovery
A sudden noise snapped Diana out of her thoughts. She froze, her eyes darting toward the hangar entrance. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed in the distance, accompanied by the low murmur of voices.
She disconnected the tablet and closed the access panel, her hands moving with practiced precision. Stuffing the tablet into her toolbelt, she stepped behind the mech's massive leg, pressing herself against the cold metal.
The voices grew louder.
"…final testing phase. We'll begin live trials next week," one of the voices said.
Diana's heart sank. She recognized the voice—Dr. Elias Marlow, the lead engineer on StellarCore's advanced weapons division.
"And the stealth systems?" another voice asked.
"Fully operational," Marlow replied. "These units are undetectable by any known scanning technology. Once deployed, the UOP won't know what hit them."
The footsteps stopped, and Diana held her breath.
"If these perform as expected," Marlow continued, "the UOP will have no choice but to surrender. The war will be over within months."
The voices began to fade as the group moved deeper into the hangar. Diana waited until she was sure they were gone before slipping out of her hiding spot. Her heart pounded as she made her way back toward the exit, her mind racing with the implications of what she had just heard.
A New Plan
Back in her quarters, Diana sat on the edge of her cot, staring at the tablet in her hands. She had to act quickly. The stealth-class mechs were weeks away from deployment, and once they were in the field, it would be too late.
She opened a secure communication channel and typed a brief message to an old contact—someone who had connections within the UOP's intelligence network.
"Urgent. I have information on a new weapon being developed by StellarCore. Need extraction ASAP."
She hesitated for a moment before hitting send.
There was no turning back now.
The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness as Diana sat in her quarters, waiting for a response. Each second felt like an eternity, her mind a whirlwind of potential outcomes. If her message reached the UOP, they might be able to stop StellarCore before it was too late. But if it was intercepted...
The tablet chimed, jolting her out of her thoughts. A message appeared on the screen:
"Acknowledged. Extraction in 48 hours. Hold position and provide additional intel if possible."
Diana exhaled a shaky breath, relief mingling with dread. Two days. She had to survive two days in the heart of enemy territory.
The Sabotage Begins
The following morning, Diana returned to the hangar under the pretense of routine maintenance. Her forged credentials held up against the automated scanners, granting her access once more.
The stealth-class mechs loomed in the dim light, their sleek forms casting long shadows across the hangar floor. Diana moved quickly, her tablet in hand. She had a new plan—one that could cripple StellarCore's operation from within.
She approached the nearest mech and opened the access panel she had examined the night before. Connecting her tablet, she began uploading a virus she had designed during her time at ChipLab. The virus would corrupt the mech's neural interface, rendering it inoperable without leaving any trace of sabotage.
Lines of code scrolled across the tablet's screen as the virus uploaded. Diana's hands moved with practiced efficiency, but her heart raced with every passing second.
Halfway through the upload, a sudden noise made her freeze.
Footsteps.
She quickly disconnected the tablet and closed the access panel, slipping behind the mech for cover. Peering around the edge, she saw a security officer enter the hangar, his flashlight sweeping across the room.
Diana's breath caught in her throat. The officer stopped near the mech she had just tampered with, his gaze lingering on the access panel.
Did he notice something?
The officer reached for his communicator.
"I need a tech team in Hangar 12," he said. "Possible tampering on unit SC-109."
Diana's mind raced. If the virus was discovered, her cover would be blown. She couldn't let that happen.
A Desperate Move
As the officer turned away, Diana made her move. She stepped out from behind the mech, her stun gun drawn.
"Don't move," she said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through her veins.
The officer froze, his flashlight clattering to the floor. He turned slowly, his hands raised.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"That's none of your concern," Diana replied. "Drop the communicator."
The officer hesitated, his eyes narrowing.
"Now!"
He complied, letting the device fall to the ground. Diana stepped forward, her stun gun trained on him.
"You're making a mistake," the officer said. "Whatever you're doing here, it won't end well."
Diana ignored him, retrieving a pair of zip ties from her toolbelt. She secured his wrists and ankles, then dragged him behind a row of storage crates.
"I'm sorry," she muttered under her breath. "But I can't let you stop me."
Unfinished Business
With the officer subdued, Diana returned to the mech and reconnected her tablet. The virus upload resumed, the progress bar inching forward.
Come on, come on…
After what felt like an eternity, the upload completed. Diana disconnected the tablet and moved to the next mech. She worked quickly, repeating the process on each unit. By the time she finished, her hands were trembling from the effort.
The hangar doors opened again, and Diana slipped out just as a team of engineers entered, their voices echoing in the vast space.
Her heart pounded as she made her way back to her quarters, every shadow a potential threat.
The Countdown Begins
That night, Diana sat on her cot, staring at the tablet in her hands. The virus was in place, but it was only a temporary solution. The stealth-class mechs would be disabled for now, but StellarCore's engineers would eventually discover the sabotage.
She needed to get out before that happened.
The tablet chimed, signaling an incoming message. She opened it, her pulse quickening.
"Extraction point confirmed. Hangar 27B, 2200 hours."
Diana closed the tablet and leaned back against the wall. The countdown had begun.
Two days to survive. Two days to escape.
A Final Hurdle
The next morning, the facility was abuzz with activity. Rumors of tampering had spread, and security was tighter than ever. Patrols roamed the corridors, and access points were monitored more closely.
Diana kept her head down, blending in with the crowd of workers. She avoided eye contact and moved with purpose, her tablet tucked under her arm.
Her thoughts drifted to the extraction. Hangar 27B was on the far side of the facility, heavily guarded and monitored. Reaching it would be a challenge, but she had no choice.
As she entered the maintenance wing, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure—Dr. Elias Marlow. He was speaking with a group of engineers, his expression serious.
"…can't afford any delays," Marlow was saying. "The prototypes must be operational by the end of the week."
Diana's jaw tightened. The clock was ticking, and every second brought them closer to deploying the stealth-class mechs.