“Don’t go back. Please believe me, you’ll die,” She pleads but I must know if Ella is alright.

It had been the five of us, Tommy, Nik, Ginny, Ella, and myself. We ‘enlisted’ in the same cohort, undergoing the 6-month long boot camp at the SFC main hub, bonding as a group.

There were others we met and lost along the way. Those first battles with the SFC had been devastating, but they made us stick together like glue. A new family that partially replaced the old one.

When I was sold to the merc company my parents were also moved to a Dominion planet somewhere, possibly on C3XB or C3XC. I am certain we will never cross paths again.

My new family is all I have, and I just lost one person dear to me. Seeing her hurt, suffering through the pain, and hearing her pleading sobs hadn’t helped force my finger on the trigger.

I knew her end was sealed the moment I saw the suit had been crushed. My mind had offered its expertise, listing the soon-to-be gruesome causes of death; Extreme pressure loss would boil and vaporize all liquids inside her body, and if she didn’t faint from the agony, she would feel herself exploding from the inside. When the biosuit’s oxygen stores depleted, leaking through the suit’s tears, her lungs would collapse from the vacuum. Space would pull her soul right out of her body in a torturous swift death.

It didn’t matter that it was the logical thing to do, my hands are now stained with the blood of my friend. And another is in danger of perishing.

“It’s too dangerous to stay in the puss clouds. We don’t have any visuals on the Overlords around us,” I say since my mind is already set on a course of action. “Follow close behind me, we need to regroup with the rest of the Marines.”

“Sergeant, the outside space is swarming with the monsters,” Gardenia says blocking the way forward.

“I believe you, Gardenia, but staying inside the corrosion is suicide. The puss will eventually become a cover for an ambush we won’t detect until it is too late. We need to regroup with the main forces,” and find out what is happening to our team, and Ella.

“Get in formation,” Tommy adds at the right moment to tip the scales, and I spearhead the 1-2-1 formation with Tommy trailing last. If I can count on one person to cover my ass as I lead blindly it is him.

Unfortunately for my arsenal, I’m forced to expend another metagrenade to widen the path as the one we had been following has vanished ahead during the little get-together. The puss is creepily pressing the made-up tunnel around us. It's time to move on.

We fly following the metasphere surrounded by yellow clouds, and I begin to notice the battle’s residual waste, floating, partly melted, and corroded. The yellow puss turns slightly green when enough broken-down matter gathers, be it dead Marines, alien parts, or a combination of both. It appears dead Overlord bodies corrode just as easily as the rest of us in this toxicity.

Floating in a particularly dense yellow-green stain, I see the first egg incubating. Its dark chitin outer shell is veiny and pulsing with life.

It’s uncertain how the alien beasts can or want to multiply during an engagement of such intensity as this one but I have an ominous premonition that on top of every green smudge we encounter an egg will be left behind to feed on the leftovers.

For the Overlords despite the initial barrage, the 27 thousand Marines must seem like a feast. Since we have no idea how the battle outside is raging, cut off inside the toxic clouds, we might as well become dessert for the soon-to-hatch offsprings.

I recheck my mapping feed but the mainframe’s signal is still obstructed by the puss clouds. There is no communication between the brainchip’s receiver and the outside world. I’ve been downgraded to Lowtech, something I’m not willing to admit out loud.

During this time the corrosive clouds have expanded greatly, and we are forced to cover a much longer distance from where we initially entered. Our helmet lights are the only lighting source, piercing only a few meters deep into the toxic walls. They might make us targets, but I highly doubt that Overlords hunt by sight alone.

Nevertheless, we are cautious, observing the yellow mist for signs of danger. We encounter none, and this already paints a picture of how things progress. The Overlord's onslaught has not been repelled.

Soon the metasphere finds the exit and flies off, and I stop my momentum shy of the edge, peeking around the gapping hole. Clear space greets me but I have no direct visual of the SFC fleet. From the star systems I see in front of me, we must be almost below it.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I sculk outside keeping close to the edge of the clouds and the rest follow close behind. It’s unnerving to expect a fight and see nothing, so I fly further out into space to get a better view.

Before I notice anything but the unending sea of clouds, my receiver starts downloading data packets.

**All SFC Marines retreat to point B**

**Engaging defensive drones**

**Dreadnaught defenses compromised, Fleet Command Carrier initiating engagement**

**All Marine forces support Light-Weight Class Vessels**

“Shit,” Tommy says beside me as his optics reveal the horror line by line. “It doesn’t look too good. What do you think, Amon?”

“Yeah, it looks like they might need a bit of help. We have some distance to cover, we are well behind the frontlines. All this is Overlord territory.”

The hole in the clouds behind us closes, filled once more with puss. We get our heads together and chart a route towards the fleet. We will float above the clouds, close enough to avoid being observed, but far enough from the surface to be caught unaware in an ambush.

Nik is particularly silent, his short-range comms only registering his heavy breathing when he sighs. Thankfully on the other end, Gardenia has settled down, following along with our directions. I wanted to berate her for recklessly fleeing inside the puss, blind and without a plan, only hoping to stumble upon us, but I wasn’t there to experience the fight she left behind. From her words, the team scattered when three Overlords set upon them simultaneously.

The chances are that most of them are dead, and I hope against reason that Ella is not one of them. We would have to regroup with the Marines to know more.

Our boot thrusters light up in neon blue, and we make good time flying. The silence of space is only overcome by the silence of activity. It feels as if we are the last survivors, sailing the yellow seas of a planet dressed in perpetual night.

Seeing nothing but the dark universe has me worried that the fleet has been swallowed in puss, leaving us stranded in space to die lethargically when our biosuit life support and batteries give out.

But then my mapping feed returns and I know we will soon have direct eye contact with the fleet. What I see on the optics makes me want to turn the way we came.

The previously organized line of Dreadnaughts is a clutter of ships and Overlords. Just like pimples on a teenager's features, the Overlords are stuck upon the SFC combat vessels, pulling them apart.

Little blue dots signifying personnel and combat drones fight around them, evading the puss that dominates each scuffle. The Dreadnaughts too are constantly moving disengaging and retreating from the expanding toxicity.

Light-weight class Vessels fly by, attacking with heatlasers, picking on the weakened chitin armor, and speeding away before any of the beasts give chase.

This I notice at a glance. The mapping feed accurately portrays the battle’s landscape and the scope sends shivers down my spine. How can the four of us make sense of all this chaos?

Before my brain can answer negatively as it often likes to do, we fly over a cloudy hill, and at its peak, the battlezone unveils before us.

The scary part is not the dead Marine bodies that I see flying like debris whichever what way, but the several destroyed Dreadnaughts, broken beyond repair, sinking inside the corrosion. Each is worth a fortune. Each is worth our salvation because without them none will make it out of here alive.

We pause, uncertain of what to do next now that we are close enough to watch, but far enough not to attract attention.

“Options? Any ideas on how to approach this?” I ask, mostly for the two more experienced Marines.

“We circle the battlezone, come from behind, and regroup with the rest of the Marines.” Tommy offers.

“C-Can’t we wait it out?” Gardenia asks, “I don’t want to go back in there, please.”

“We can’t stay here,” I reply, and since I know she doesn’t understand the reasoning I follow up with a simple explanation.

“Listen, if we win, and the Overlords are repelled, we might fall onto their retreating route. Neither you nor I want to be anywhere near the agitated alien swarm without the support of the fleet.”

“But if we lose the main battle, the remaining ships will retreat in haste, leaving us stranded in open space. In both cases staying here is a bigger danger than moving forward. We just have to find the safest path.”

Gardenia isn’t stupid. She considers my words and I see her nod her helmet when she has digested my argument.

It's Nik who I am mostly worried about. He had a special relationship with Ginny, and her death might push him to do something rash.

Nevertheless, our objective is to rendezvous with the fleet without attracting undue attention. From our observations, the skirmishes and expanding clouds force the Dreadnaughts ever backward. We will fly a good distance around them to avoid all the fighting.

It’s when we are ready to blast off a new communication from the Fleed Command Carrier reaches us.

**Critical Intel: Overlord Queen has been spotted. Sending coordinates… All available forces are to engage on sight. Top Priority, #Queen Imagery#.**

The still image is distorted but reveals an unmistakably ugly Overlord surfacing among the clouds. Its purple outer armor is distinct from the brown-black of the rest of the host. It is also huge, double the size of an adult, and quite possibly twice as lethal. We have to hurry it away if not outright kill it.

—-

“This is madness,” Gardenia says as I prepare my remaining weaponry. The coordinates show the Overlord Queen located well behind the battlezone, protected by puss clouds at the tail end of the swarm.

We are not close, but we have a clear path to reach her from where we are. Firing a metagrenade into the yellow sea will cut the distance to a short flight.

Likewise, Nik and Tommy are ready to follow. They understand the unique opportunity we have, and even if it is close to a suicide mission, none of us can find the courage to object. This mission might turn the tides in our favor.

“Gardenia, I’m not asking you to follow along. It’s a choice we make freely, me, Tommy, Nik,” I say pointing at each one with a gloved finger before continuing.

“Above us, the fleet struggles against the overwhelming enemy swarm, it might lose, we might lose and then we are all dead. I’m not asking you to follow me, it might not make a difference, we might not even make it to the Queen. But if you do follow, and your presence does make the difference we need, to kill this thing, to make it out of here alive…” I pause for breath.

“It is for moments like this one that the choices we make matter, that we are truly free,” A speech translated right out of my heart. It gives me courage even if she decides to remain behind.

“I’ll come,” She says, “But promise me one thing,”

“Tell me,” I reply.

“Let's put this fucker out of its misery.”