I checked my clothing - standard issue light station uniform. Not exactly ideal for the current situation. Hastily, I used the grip bar to pull myself out of the pod and climbed to the floor, joining the other cadets who were already hectically putting on the light pressure suits mandated during red alert. It was one exercise I’d made sure not to neglect in my training.

My female team members emerged from the simulation seconds after me, likely in the same state of confusion and urgency. I glanced around, assuming the male cadets in the sleeping quarter looked much the same. As I secured the light station helmet and locked it in place, a green light on the automatic check-up offered a small sense of reassurance. But my mind was racing to catch up with my actions.

"Why isn’t anyone stopping the simulation?" I called out, my voice echoing in the chamber. The sirens had been turned down, and through the speaker system, I heard a response that was interrupted by a flurry of profanity. It was clear - something serious was happening.

Without hesitation, I darted into the corridor, making way for the other cadets to suit up. The voice of Sir-Screams-a-lot, our drill instructor, reverberated through the corridor as he rushed toward us in person, urgency etched on his face.

"The station is under attack! Shields and emergency protocols have been sabotaged!" he exclaimed, his tone conveying the gravity of the situation. "Suit up faster!"

As we hurried to comply, the artificial voice of the station’s computer provided crucial information about the ongoing emergency. Protocol Hazel Seven was active, and three manipulated devices had been bypassed. Shield integrity had been restored, but one of the Solar Power satellites had redirected its power transfer microwave beam at the training station. The countdown to disaster had begun, since our shields would not hold up long against the continuous attack. In less than thirty minutes, they would fail.

"Admiral Hawk to all hands: All non-essential personnel are to gather at the escape pod bay! This is not a drill! Evacuation in ten minutes," the admiral’s voice crackled over the intercom.

But before the evacuation could commence, the station’s computer interjected with a chilling warning: using escape pods was not recommended, as the microwave beam would hit all pods leaving the station's shield.

"Evacuation order withdrawn," the admiral’s voice followed, tinged with frustration at being contradicted by the computer.

I exchanged a worried glance with Delfi, who had locked her helmet and opened a private channel. "How on earth can the computer do that itself?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

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I couldn't help but grin, a sense of pride swelling within me as I explained, "The Hazel emergency protocols - if anything happens too fast for humans to react, the system takes charge and activates the most appropriate emergency protocol. It detected the shield sabotage and swiftly responded to neutralize the threat."

Turning to one of the public data screens, I requested a tactical overview, and a simplified graphic of the station in its Earth orbit appeared. Manipulating the controls, I analyzed the situation, but the outlook was grim.

"We need more than an hour to get out of range if the power station speeds up to follow us," I muttered, realizing the dire predicament we were in.

Our drill instructor, surprisingly calm amidst the chaos, joined the conversation. "We don't have any warship in the area that can crack the shields of a power station," he remarked, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Delfi raised a hopeful suggestion: “There was some news about the new gravity wave drives. The station has artificial gravity generators; they just have to be reprogrammed. According to the news reporter, there’s no hardware change necessary.”

Our instructor quickly dashed her hopes. "Sorry to disappoint you, but that's not possible," he explained. "The gravity generator modifications have been proposed only months ago. And they have not yet been approved by the engineering department. Much less implemented. It would take days to make the calculations and program the complicated modifications."

I interjected, offering a glimmer of hope. "The station's computer could do it in minutes," I pointed out, knowing that time was of the essence.

But our instructor's response was sobering. "Only if it had been programmed to do something like that. These things take time. Time, we don't have," he concluded.

I stood there, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on my shoulders. I could save the station, save myself and my friends, but it would come at a cost - revealing my family's closely guarded secret. Was I prepared to sacrifice their safety for our own? Or should I choose to die? I could rest assured, that our secret would die with the station. I could sacrifice myself, but all of my friends as well? Maybe the admiralty would help me to cover everything up? If the bridge crew could be trusted to keep a secret… I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to do. With resolve coursing through my veins, I pulled myself up to my full height, standing upright with determination. I knew what needed to be done.

Raising my hand in a crisp military salute, I addressed our drill sergeant with unwavering determination. "Sir, I request to be brought to the bridge immediately. I can save the station, but only from there. And I must speak to the admiral. In private."

The drill sergeant regarded me with a piercing gaze, his eyes searching mine for any hint of doubt or hesitation. "Cadet Macro Aranis, do I remember correctly that your family has designed and installed the software on this station?" he inquired, his voice measured and serious.

"Sir, yes, Sir!" I replied, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Do you have any knowledge that will help us in this situation?" he pressed, his tone indicating the urgency of the matter at hand.

"I believe I do, Sir!" I responded, my confidence unwavering despite the gravity of the situation.

Without another word, the drill sergeant motioned for me to follow him, and together we began to sprint along the corridor. We maneuvered through crowds of confused cadets and military personnel, each of us focused on our mission to secure the station's safety.