I'd like to say something profound about how this is letting out a lot of inner demons, but the truth is probably that I'm just a sick puppy. Read my Superguy stuff for more life-affirming material. I hate to start off my first story as an exception. But this tale will be an exception to my usual rule of 'no fanfiction'. A Berzerker Wars tale.
Space is a duality.
Aeons ago, when humanity had just begun to smack together flint and tinder to heat their caves, these mighty war-machines had sailed through the dark of space, touching life where they went, and with each touch, life became cool and dead and one with the infinite. The creature was known as a Berzerker, a word which had become synonymous with the symphony of death, and it limped home towards the small, ore-rich asteroid in which it had made its base at one time, leaping and striking, then returning, cleverly hiding its trail. The Berzerker was alone, save for a single Life sealed within its hold, a prisoner whom the Berzerker had not destroyed out of a need to extract language and data from its Solarian mind. There was every reason to believe that this Berzerker was the last of its kind. Though the death-machine was incapable of sentiment or romance, some hidden impulse of the appropriate had driven it to return to its 'home' like a hurt dog retreating to lick its wounds.