CHAPTER 33: JOHN

Alpha Centauri

Proxima Centauri Orbit

He was walking the decks for the third time, touring the ship and inspecting the systems, his mind restless with thoughts. He had to stop; he needed to demonstrate to the crew that he trusted them. Constantly pacing the halls would only convey the opposite message. Yet, he couldn't help it—his nervous energy had nowhere to bleed out. Char avoided him at every opportunity, and he couldn’t think of a legitimate reason to engage her on an official level. The ship just hung in high orbit, nestled among the rest of the fleet, a silent sentinel against the backdrop of stars.

As he found his way to the galley, his stomach growled in protest, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in almost twenty hours. The aroma wafting through the air was intoxicating, a siren's call that promised comfort and satisfaction. John paused to examine the menu posted at the entrance, taking pleasure in the selection for the evening. Italian night! 'Pizza a portafoglio, Spaghetti Pomodoro'—his mouth watered at the thought.

Suddenly, the familiar chime of the 1MC pierced the air, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He knew it was coming; something inside him screamed warnings, a primal instinct that had settled deep in his core. No, it wasn’t just something—he recognised it for what it was: the device embedded at the base of his skull had activated, responding to a threat he had yet to fully comprehend. Looking around, he noticed he was the only one sensing the impending danger. The crew continued their conversations, laughter spilling out like music, each person trying to enjoy their off time as best they could. Deep down, he felt a pang of sorrow for them; life was about to become infinitely more complicated. Just barely a second later, the call to action echoed through the ship.

The familiar sound of three long claxon bells rang out, and if the galley had a heart, it would have sunk, just as the hearts of every man and woman in that room did. It wasn’t time yet; they still had hours, or perhaps even days, before the call to battle would reverberate through the fleet. But there it was, the officer of the deck’s voice booming the words every sailor dreaded. "General Quarters, all hands to battle stations. Set condition one throughout the ship."

As John made his way to the bridge, the weight of knowledge settled on him like a leaden cloak. He knew where the danger lay, what it was, and who was responsible. He couldn’t articulate how he knew; it was as if the universe had whispered the truth directly into his mind. His suspicions were confirmed when he caught sight of them just outside the viewport—legion ships, ominously close, maintaining course and speed with the fleet, creating the illusion that they were all at a relative standstill.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Stand down from general quarters,” he commanded, surprising even himself with the calm and measured tone of his voice. The words spilled out almost involuntarily, as if he were being guided by an unseen hand. Yet deep down, he understood that this was the right call; he felt it resonating within him.

The ship's Executive Officer glanced at him from her station, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Sir,” she whispered, urgency lacing her tone. “It’s the damn Legion.”

“I know.” John never took his gaze off the ominous ships just outside the viewports. “Carry out my orders.”

“Sir, I cannot. It was a fleet-wide G.Q. order—only the fleet admiral can make that call.” Her voice was firm, yet laced with concern.

John knew she was right. He closed his eyes, as if hoping to communicate with the strange alien race that had triggered this cascade of events. Heidi observed in silence as the device embedded in his skull began to display a rotating stream of numbers, letters, and colors. Something was happening in his mind, and she had no clue what it might be. “Commander, stand down from general quarters. Prepare the flight deck for incoming passengers.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll be in the wardroom.” That was all John said as he turned and walked back toward the rear corridor, leaving a trail of unspoken questions in his wake. Everyone on the bridge stared in silence, their eyes wide as they absorbed the strange interaction their captain had just exhibited. Heidi rose to her feet, her military training clashing violently with her instincts. She knew she should not obey her orders, that protocol demanded she call the doctor to temporarily relieve command of the ship. Her commanding officer was not behaving normally. Yet, her instincts whispered a different story. She trusted John, and when she glanced over at the ship's helmswoman—John’s closest friend—she received a silent affirmation. The nod understood the internal struggle; it was a reminder to trust John.

“You heard the man.” Heidi’s voice cut through the tension in the air, her authority reasserting itself. She looked around the room, ensuring everyone had heard her as she grasped the 1M.C. tightly. “All hands, stand down from General Quarters. Set condition two.” John had never indicated a complete lax in readiness, and while she would follow his orders by issuing the stand-down command, she simultaneously ensured the ship remained in a potential combat-ready state. No non-essential activities were to take place; all off-duty personnel were to remain in their quarters and gear up for a possible fight. All offensive and defensive systems were to be powered on and prepared for combat. She trusted John, but she wanted to mitigate any risks. “Commander Carr, get the flight deck ready for incoming traffic.” Finally, she sank back into her seat, satisfied with her decision.

“Yes, ma’am.” Char couldn’t help but beam a smile, a sense of pride swelling within her at the thought of the chaos John could unleash, even when he wasn’t physically present.

Everyone executed their orders without a hint of hesitation. They all understood it was a violation of fleet orders, but John would have to answer for that later. The crew was caught off guard when it came, the voice booming through every speaker, in every room, on every ship. “We are Legion...”