Team Scarlet’s Zeta-Class Patrol ship flew silently through the void of space. The universe had a uniform flatness to it; there was no bulge of faster-than-light warping at the nose of their ship. This was because they would not be making the journey to their next mission alone.
“See it?” said Jarek, pointing excitedly at the viewscreen in the living room. “That’s it, up ahead! Look at the size of that thing!”
“We’ve seen it before,” said Nic, unimpressed. “More than once.”
“And you’d squash his sense of wonder?” Maqsud chastised him. “‘No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.’ Heraclitus. Have you no awe to spare for this triumph of human engineering, Nicolas?”
“It is pretty incredible,” Perri agreed. “A Beta-Class Carrier. Big enough to hold sixty patrols and four frigates!”
“It’s gigantic!” said Jarek. “Imagine how big a supercarrier must look! Man, I wanna see one of those in person someday!”
“That, I pray we never do,” Max sighed.
“We know the drill,” said Nic, and he led by example.
He was still resentful of the fact that this mission had cost him his perfect opportunity to propose. Now the jeweler’s bag sat in his thumbprint-protected locker; the ring awaited another shore leave, while the necklace would have to wait until he was in a better mood to present it to her. Still, he had to remember to rein in his emotions as a leader.
Don’t be a spoilsport, Nic.
“Okay,” he relented. “You guys are right. It’s still pretty spectacular.”
This was their fourth time traveling aboard a Beta-Class Carrier. Nic watched the dark gray astrosteel ship looming ever larger in the control room’s viewscreen. It was bulky and blocky, a huge rounded box shape in the back holding the Devi drive, while the rest of the ship was adorned with navigational lights, long, cylindrical missile chambers, and the widened angular section in the middle—that was where all the ships docked inside.
A colossal metal door swung upward, exposing the carrier’s landing bay to the vacuum of space. Team Scarlet’s comparatively tiny ship was approaching a row of its counterparts near the tail end. Nic knew his squad was among the last arrivals again; he was grateful that they had the shore leave they did, curtailed as it was. The Zeta-Class Patrol groaned to a stop aboard the carrier and, through the rear viewscreen, Nic could see the bay door swinging slowly shut.
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Nic swallowed. A little twinge in his stomach—every time. They suited up in silence and waited for their cue to disembark.
The four soldiers made their way down the ship’s airstairs, their boots clunking on the astrosteel along the way. Nic pondered the ubiquity of this metal; it was the strongest material known to humans, nigh indestructible by most standards. Even the toughest titanium and normal-grade steel seemed fragile as aluminum by comparison.
A pair of NCOs waited for them like always, clearing them for entry onto the main deck of the ship. Once they crossed the airlock, it was organized chaos. Non-suited personnel—likely from custodial or maintenance teams—marched up and down the long metal corridor, stepping aside to allow soldiers to pass. A stream of Gen-Three Achilles armorsuits led the way to a lift. That’s when the AI gave them their next direction through their helmets.
“Everyone’s suited up,” Jarek observed. “We musta made it just in time, huh?”
The Simnasium, which was adjacent to the ship’s armory, was where they received briefing on their next mission. The spacious room was even bigger than Simnasiums found on stationary bases. Nic glimpsed dozens—no, hundreds of soldiers in color-coded Achilles armor, roughly half from Red Battalion and half from White Battalion. Each half had ten lieutenants clad in the same color of armor standing at attention at the front of the room, plus a few other higher-ranking officers.
Once everyone was standing at their station, a gray hologram activated at center stage between the two rows of officers. A balding man appeared in the steel-colored lightshow wearing his medal-studded dress uniform, deep crow’s feet at the eyes and worry wrinkles at the crest of his brow. He looked like he was anatomically incapable of smiling; in fact, for all his wrinkles, he had no laugh lines. His holographic nametag read SIMMONS.
Every hand in the room snapped a firm hand-over-heart salute for the man. Nic had seen him once before, but had never served directly under him. “Terra et populus!” everyone in the room shouted in unison.
“Terra et populus,” the man answered mirthlessly, miming the same salute. “This is Colonel Harper Simmons speaking. Lieutenant Colonels North, Goss, and McCullough, various lieutenants, and Galactic Defense Force soldiers of the Red and White Battalions... This is a Priority Three Offensive Operation. The Beta-Class Carrier GDF Liberty and the Gamma-Class Destroyer GDF Vindicator are currently en route to the target planet Copernicus.
“The planet is home to our second-largest Achilles armorsuit factory. It is currently under enemy occupation and, with significant electrical interference, we’re unable to conduct additional reconnaissance remotely. Our latest intel indicates that all human employees and security forces are likely DOA.” Nic swallowed, trying not to imagine the carnage. “Your mission is simple: retake the facility. Reclaim the planet. Kill any Hexadian enemy that stands in your way. Is that understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” the room thundered.
“You’ll be in the capable, competent hands of some of the GDF’s finest commanding officers. Not only that, but you have some celebrities in your midst. Team Scarlet, war heroes of the Battle of Nereus...” The colonel paused to allow for some applause. Jarek and Perri waved awkwardly; Nic felt his face burn from the unwanted attention. “...with over 2,000 confirmed kills as a squad. Joining them is Team Ivory, one of the top-performing squads in the last six years of Wargames, and exemplary soldiers with over 3,000 confirmed kills of their own.”
Four soldiers in white armor leaned forward in formation, turning and waving to a second round of applause. Only four, Nic noted. He felt a pang of empathy for them, wondering as to the exact circumstances of their missing squad member. Colonel Simmons wrapped up the formalities in the background, the muffled words receding from Nic’s attention, and Nic instinctively joined in one last salute before the hologram ended and everyone dispersed. His thoughts led him elsewhere.
But he wouldn’t have to wonder long. Team Ivory was beelining straight toward him.