Walking onto the ship’s bridge, Jack was surprised to see the change in atmosphere. While the rest of the crew was filled with anxiety and trepidation, the few people gathered in this room were calm and surprisingly laid-back. He wondered whether it was simply due to their professionalism or if they were privy to something he didn’t know. Captain Stirling subtly gestured for the trio to move toward one of the emptier corners of the room and began speaking in a much softer tone than the speech he had just given:
“The people in this room right now, all of you, are the only ones on this ship that I trust. Some of you, I know for a fact, are not the traitors. Others, I’m forced to assume, because I have no other choice. Regardless, you’re the only ones privy to what I’m about to say.” He took a deep breath and looked around the room before continuing. “There is a plan. You’ve no doubt deduced that most of the secrecy and erratic behavior over the past couple of days was intended to confuse whoever was feeding intel to the Kharlath. What most of you don’t know is why. Mr. Okoro?”
To Jack’s surprise, Mr. Okoro was none other than the mysterious man he had spoken to in the engine room. He stepped forward confidently and began speaking in a self-assured but measured tone:
“It has long been accepted in most circles that the main asset the Kharlath have in this war is the so-called Mothership, the extremely advanced vessel that serves as both their mobile headquarters and their main weapons platform. If we could neutralize this vessel, we would hold the advantage. The problem with this is twofold. First, the Mothership’s jump drives aren’t subject to the same restrictions as ours. They can jump whenever they please, wherever they please, with a range of potentially hundreds of light-years. Secondly, and more crucially, it is protected by an electromagnetic field, which absorbs both kinetic force and directed energy, making most of our weapons useless. We know that the field can be overwhelmed—we’ve done it before—but it took the combined strength of dozens of warships, including two Titan-class carriers. The Kharlath will not make the mistake of exposing their flagship to that kind of firepower again. The intel leak, though disastrous in the short term, has presented us with a one-of-a-kind opportunity, however: make them believe that we have been crippled by their attacks, and give them an offer that’s too good to pass up—taking Gateway Station, thereby closing off our only route into this sector. Just as you did until this moment, they think only four ill-prepared ships stand in the way of this goal. In reality, we have the entire Intelligence Operations Fleet, along with dozens of captured boarding probes, waiting for my signal in interstellar space.”
“Thank you, Mr. Okoro.” Captain Stirling continued: “Our part of the plan is very simple: a few hours ago, we’ve acquired Sergeant Thomas, the Templar you’ve all met earlier, and an uncapped Othiri jump drive. The latter, we need to get aboard the Mothership, the former will help us do it. When the Kharlath boarding parties arrive, we will kill them, and seize their boarding probes. We will then send as many people as we can aboard those probes, onto the Mothership. While the Intelligence Operations Fleet distracts their firepower, we will pilot these probes into the Mothership, where our main priority is to get the jump drive operational, and forcefully jump the Mothership to a destination that has been pre-programmed into them. There will be a dozen other teams with the same goal, spread throughout the IOF, as well as on the other ships that are with us. You will not know the identity of these teams until you are on board the Mothership. There will also be dozens of other teams whose main goal is to make sure these Jump Drive teams stay alive long enough. We need at least three of them to succeed. With a bit of luck, our team will be one of those three.”
The Captain suddenly went silent, distracted by something on the main monitor. Soon enough, Jack realized what the problem was: with an underwhelming beep, one of the four equidistant dots present on the screen, labeled ‘Roddam’, had disappeared. An entire ship gone, just like that.
“What was the signal delay?” barked Captain Stirling
“Three minutes, sir!” came the answer from behind one of the consoles that littered the room
“And for the Yi?”
“Two minutes, sir!”
A two minute signal delay meant that it would take four minutes for them to learn whether the Yi had suffered the same unknown fate. Two grueling, uncomfortable minutes in which they could do nothing but wait.
“Set up the drone field, medium range,maximum spread!” came another barked order from the Captain. “Fighter drones in Gamma formation! Point defense hot!” He then picked up his earpiece, without putting it on his head, broadcasting a message to the entire ship: “Maximum alert! Prepare for battle!”
Minutes felt like hours as the crew waited in perfect silence. Jack wished for something—anything—to happen. Even an entire Kharlath battalion suddenly teleporting onto the ship would have been preferable to this unbearable tension. Louise’s hand reached out to his, gripping it tightly. In another situation, perhaps he would have found it comforting, but all he could think about was the Roddam. What had happened to it, that in the span of just three minutes, it was reduced to nothing? This wasn’t the work of a boarding party. Would the Bismarck suffer the same fate? Would they even get to see the enemy they were fighting?
Another beep interrupted his thoughts. Jack’s eyes darted towards the Yi, and he was momentarily relieved to see that it was still there, until his gaze shifted to the left: the Allemand was now gone. The attack was coming from both directions!
Jack looked towards the captain, hoping to see some kind of reaction on his face. Whether he was equally terrified or fully in control, Captain Stirling didn’t show it. His eyes darted around the room, studying everyone’s reactions intensely. Yet another beep pierced the silence. Now the screen was littered with dots on the edge of the drone field, all marked with an ominous ‘?’.
After quickly studying the screen, the captain picked up his earpiece and sprang into action:
“Assault Squad 1 to the aft corridor! Weapons ready! Assault Squads 2 and 3, hangar! Weapons ready! Sergeant Thomas, Assault Squad 5, to the bridge! Assault Squad 6, Port Airlock! Assault Squad 7, Starboard Airlock! Weapons ready! Assault Squad 8 to the reactor room! Weapons ready!”
Without skipping a beat, he put down his headset and turned his attention to the small crowd gathered on the bridge. “Commander Brinkerhoff, gather your team and head to the hangar bay. Nakayama, you’re in charge of the backup jump drive team. Pick any four people you trust from the crew roster and call them to the bridge. If Brinkerhoff’s team doesn’t make it, you need to get that jump drive onto the Mothership! Lieutenant Ballinger, assist her! Nereus, grab a headpiece and rifle from the armory and head to the reactor room. Squad 8 is green—they’ve never fought Kharlath before. You need to show them that you have, and that you’re not afraid of them. If all goes as planned, you won’t have to fire a shot. If it doesn’t, you’ll be too dead to care. Everyone else, head to your stations, and good luck!”
Almost in a trance, Jack briefly hugged Eve and Louise, then headed towards the armory. Out of everyone in that room, he had the easiest job: sit with a bunch of recruits in the most heavily fortified part of the ship and make sure they didn’t panic. Yet, he felt extremely uneasy about it. His fate was in everyone else’s hands. If the boarding parties made it that far, it was over. All he could do was sit and hope for the best.
Reaching the armory, he robotically grabbed a headpiece, a plasma rifle, and a firing glove. He initially put the glove on his right hand—after all, he was right-handed. But it didn’t feel right. So, he grabbed a left-handed glove, put it on, and weighed a plasma pistol in his left hand. For a moment, he felt as he had in that room on Daedalus: terrified, desperate, but alive—more alive than he had ever been before. He strapped the pistol to his belt, slung the rifle over his shoulder, and started walking toward the reactor room.
Squad 8 looked like a bunch of terrified, helpless children, huddled together on the floor of the room, clutching their weapons. Upon opening the door, a murmur erupted among them as Jack stepped into the middle of the room. Finally, one of the young men, with a squad leader’s pip proudly displayed on his chest, jumped to his feet and walked up to Jack, measuring him from head to toe.
“Who are you?” he asked, in the deepest, most authoritative voice he could muster.
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“My name is Jack Nereus. Captain Stirling sent me here to—”
“You’re the hero of Daedalus Station?” the man interrupted him in a mocking tone. “Sent here to babysit us?” He looked him up and down derisively before continuing, “What the hell are we supposed to do with you? You’re not even big enough to fit in our combat armor!” The crowd erupted in laughter as the squad leader got dangerously close to Jack’s face. “Why don’t you let us do our job and go make yourself useful somewhere else, mister war hero.”
Jack had to think fast. The guy was obviously scared out of his mind and overcompensating, but nevertheless, he was almost a full head taller than him and clearly not above getting physical. With a finesse he didn’t think himself capable of, Jack swung the rifle off his back and into his arms, striking his opponent in the throat with the weapon’s butt, with as much force as he could muster. The squad leader fell to the ground, gasping for air and grabbing his throat, while a few of his squad members began standing up. Turning his rifle around with another swift motion, Jack pointed it threateningly at the group, gesturing for them to sit down, and began yelling as loud as he could:
“What the hell are you idiots doing? I don’t know what they taught you in boot camp, but in the Fleet, we obey our orders. The captain himself has tasked me with supervising you, which means that you will be quiet, you will respect the chain of command, and you will listen to what I say.” Channeling the same drill instructor character he’d known from a thousand stories, he continued, “Now get up off your asses, grab your rifles, point them at the door, and find some cover. Anything comes through that door that looks too big or too red to be a human, you shoot. Any questions?”
“No, sir!” the group responded in unison as they began moving. His gambit worked even better than he’d expected. They’d all fallen in line as soon as he began giving orders. Of course, the captain hadn’t technically put him in charge, but the squad leader was obviously out of his depth. Besides, it wasn’t like any of it was going to matter. As Captain Stirling said, if the Kharlath actually made it to the reactor room, everyone was as good as dead. He kneeled behind a support pillar, grabbed his rifle, and did his best to look calm and prepared. No one in that room was going to make a difference, probably, but they didn’t have to know that.
Suddenly, a deafening impact reverberated through the hull, shaking the entire room. The battle had begun. Several more impacts followed in quick succession, coming from every direction, accompanied by the sounds of battle—screams, cries, and the sizzle of superheated plasma against the walls. At first, these sounds were faint, but they grew louder, inching closer and closer. As the carnage intensified, chatter filled the room, and Jack once again had to assert his authority:
“Be quiet! And be ready. Make sure your squad mates aren’t in your line of fire. Ensure the safety is off on your weapons. Hold your rifles with both hands and don’t touch the outer barrel!” He was reciting the same instructions printed on posters throughout the ship, but it seemed to work well enough, at least until a loud bang echoed from the floor. The recruits jumped, panicking, pointing their weapons downward. Another bang followed, then a blinding flash, as multiple silhouettes rapidly ascended from the floor.
“Fire!” Jack yelled, gripping his rifle tightly as he desperately unloaded an entire canister in the general direction of the enemy. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched Kharlath after Kharlath rise from the floor, only to disintegrate into mist under the assault of a dozen rifles firing simultaneously. Another loud bang, this time from the direction of the door, captured his attention. A small band of Kharlath breached the room and, ignoring Jack’s squad, opened fire on the main reactor. They were quickly reduced to puddles on the ground, but not before unleashing a salvo that melted the reactor’s casing, sending liquid metal into its inner workings. With an infernal screech and sparks flying everywhere, the reactor shut down, plunging the room into darkness until auxiliary power kicked in. For a moment, Jack wondered if it was going to explode, killing them all. He clearly wasn’t alone in this fear, as several panicked recruits bolted from behind their cover and sprinted toward the door.
“Stop!” Jack yelled, channeling all his remaining confidence into his voice.
The recruits halted in their tracks, and Jack continued, “If it was going to blow up, we’d all be dead already. If you run out like that, you’ll be shot the moment you step through that door.” Stepping into the middle of the room, desperately trying to project confidence, he added, “You two, get on either side of the door. Everyone else, find cover. Kick the door open on my mark.” With a single gesture, Jack sprang into cover and gave the signal to open the door. Outside the room, everything was quiet. The corridor was littered with bodies—human and Kharlath alike—but none appeared to have survived the battle.
Jack gestured for the squad to wait as he called the bridge. A wave of relief washed over him as soon as he got a response.
“This is Jack Nereus, acting leader of Assault Squad 8. The reactor room has been breached. We have repelled the assault, but the main reactor has been destroyed. I repeat, the main reactor is down. We are awaiting further orders.”
“What’s the status of your squad?” Jack recognized the voice of Commander Demir, the first officer.
“No casualties, sir!”
“Head toward the hangar! Most of the remaining Kharlath force is concentrated there. Coordinate with Lieutenant Ballinger!” The Commander sounded relieved.
“Yes, sir!” Jack confirmed, gesturing for his squad to begin moving out. “Single file, hug the walls, and keep your eyes peeled,” he barked, now feeling like a proper leader.
Stepping out into the hallway, they could see the aftermath of a brutal battle. Dozens of bodies from both sides were strewn across the corridor—some unrecognizable puddles of melted flesh, others with barely visible injuries. One of the Kharlath bodies groaned as they approached, and with a casual gesture, Jack pulled out his pistol and shot it in the head, quickly applying the same treatment to every other body he could spot.
As they made their way into the main corridor, the squad encountered a scene of unimaginable carnage. Kharlath bodies were glued to the walls, flattened as if they were tomatoes thrown against a target. Various body parts littered the room, with the entire floor covered in a thin layer of dark, sticky liquid. In the center of the room, as if the centerpiece to the carnage, stood Sergeant Thomas, the Templar, still clutching a crushed head in his hands. His armor was mostly gone, his body battered and bruised, but he was alive—surprisingly. On the opposite end of the corridor, a team of medical staff was checking for signs of life, though judging by their expressions, with little success. Jack recognized Louise among them, and, subtly gesturing for his squad to stay in place, he ran toward her.
She knelt down, cradling a bloodied body in her arms. As Jack got closer, he recognized the face of his young roommate, Carlos. He was unconscious but still breathing—barely. Louise looked up at Jack, and, with a wordless gesture, pulled him into a kiss. Her lips were salty, and her mouth was dry, but it didn’t matter. Jack kissed her back briefly before pulling away, reminding himself of his duty.
“Eve?” he asked hesitantly, dreading the answer
.
“I don’t know,” she replied quietly, resignation in her voice. “She was in the hangar. From what I’ve heard, it’s not looking great down there.”
Gesturing for his squad to follow, Jack quickly looked up Lieutenant Ballinger on his wristpad and sent a high-priority alert. A reply soon came, providing a comms frequency.
“Rust scrubber!” Eve’s voice came through as soon as Jack tapped on his headset, and he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off him.
“Eve!” he responded, perhaps too excitedly given the circumstances. “Ballinger, is he...?”
“Out cold. But alive, for now. Things are pretty grim down here, Jack,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically dour.
“I’m coming. I’ve got an entire squad with me. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
As the squad approached the elevator, Eve quickly described a plan of action. The survivors in the cargo bay were pinned down behind some storage crates on the far end of the room. Jack’s team needed to overload the light strips on the cargo elevator and send it crashing down, creating a giant makeshift flashbang. Meanwhile, the remaining survivors would rush the Kharlath while they were distracted, as Jack’s team jumped down into the elevator, trapping them between the two forces. It was a good, albeit risky plan. Jack walked his squad through it, and they set to work.
As soon as the elevator crashed, Jack leaped inside, recklessly charging into the hangar. The cautious, calculated leader was replaced by a daring madman, determined to save his friend. He quickly ducked behind a service drone, but not before emptying his canister into a group of stunned Kharlath. Pulling out his pistol, he continued firing as the rest of his squad dropped in, and Eve’s group charged from the other side. Soon enough, the room was entirely cleared of enemies, with minimal casualties to boot.
With the immediate danger momentarily averted, Jack sprinted toward Eve, but was abruptly stopped in his tracks by a powerful bear hug that lifted him off the ground. Startled, he turned his head and came face to face with none other than Mr. Windek, his colleague from Engine Operations, who was flashing a goofy smile as he let Jack go.
“We need to get this on the Mothership, now!” Eve yelled, pointing to the jump drive. “There are two boarding probes in this hangar. One of us needs to fly one as a decoy while the rest take the other one with the jump drive. Any volunteers?”
“I can fly it, I think,” Mr. Windek raised his hand, somewhat awkwardly.
“You understand what’s being asked of you, right?” Eve questioned him in a grave tone. “It’s unlikely that both probes will make it. And if one is going to be destroyed, you’ll have to do your best to make sure it’s yours.”
“I understand. I can do this,” Windek replied, this time with more conviction.
“Is it wise to put all our eggs in one basket, though? Maybe we could split our group evenly between the two probes?” Jack asked, concerned.
“There’s only one egg, Jack,” Eve replied. “The only thing that matters now is getting that jump drive on board.”