When the Soviet Cosmonauts became the first to touch the black waters of space, one of the main equipment they were issued were a uniquely designed handgun, in case their landing accidentally took them to the hell of Siberia’s wilderness. Whether it be for food or to fend off those big grizzly bears Russia was and is very famous for.
This practice in space travel has not changed. Since the discovery of subspace, every personnel within the British Star Charters or were required to have any sort of firearm on them. It did not matter which scenario you were placed it, whether it be making contact with new civilisation, exploring the majesties of alien worlds, or even cleaning out the blocked toilets because it was curry night in the ship’s pub. You were always safer with a semi-automatic in your arms.
Devon grabbed his rifle before leaving the car. He was not much of a gun-nut, he was from California for goodness sake. Still, all this time swimming in the stars properly made him understand the sharks always next to him. Always modified this one firearm whenever he was off shift.
The helmets materialised on everyone’s suits, with every firearm half raised. The source of the signal was within a cave opening. Security personnel had been sent off to scout the area with a couple automated drones, each prepped with automatic machine guns. No plans on entering the cave had been acted upon.
“All personnel,” the group was notified by Ensign MacLean, “Found a structure. Seems like a camp.”
Everyone’s heads-up displays pinged the position of the camp. Devon spoke over the comms, “Devon speaking, is it safe?”
“Drones ain’t picking up anything, neither are the suits. Seems completely empty, sir.”
“Copy that, stand by.” He turned around, facing the girl. Cyril was clutching onto her arm. She continued pretending to seem defiant. “I think we found your camp.”
Her face dropped. She stammered slightly before asking, “What camp?”
Devon pressed for the comms again, maintaining eye contact with the girl. “MacLean, Devon here, I’m coming up with the girl. Half-confident it’s her place.”
By the time they arrived, nobody was impressed. It was a few big tents with some crudely-designed science equipment under them. The tech were certainly not associated with the UN, or any other group Devon recognised.
The girl was trying her hardest not to screech out over the crew touching everything. Crates, a footlocker, Cyril was on the verge of crushing her lips shut.
He did eye two beds, however. This girl was certainly not alone. Nobody her age could have properly set up a place like this.
Onshe sat down at what looked like a computer, still active. She could understand some of the readings, but not enough to the point she could have worked with it.
There was something that was designed similar to a scroll on the side. The Arvan opened it up, turning her head to the side for her eye to properly read. The girl barged forward once she noticed, until Cyril kept her stuck in one place.
“Don’t read that!” She shouted.
“This is in… the hell? It’s Pyeri.” It was in her native language.
Devon moved over, a puzzled look dominated his face. “Are you sure?”
“No, they were just fibbing when I was reading books in primary school. Of course I’m sure!”
“I’m seeing English, Lieutenant.”
Multiple ideas spun in Onshe’s head. “Is it reading our minds?”
Devon’s helmet scanned the material of the parchment. “There ain’t anything special about it.”
Onshe read through the text. “Like a posh child’s written it.”
“Stop reading it!” The girl screamed, though much more embarrassed than distressed. Cyril tightened their grip, metal fingers almost digging into her skin.
The Arvan began to read. “’I can’t stop thinking about that girl on Derafan III, her eyes, the way her hair swayed in the wind’… oh, shit.” She smirked, as much as she could with her beak. “Is this your diary?”
The girl went silent for a bit. “No?”
Onshe continued to read the passage. “’We never really spoke. I would only watch her from the other side of the market whilst Dad was in a meeting. Yet, closing my eyes, I’m always thinking of resting on her lap, her fingers brushing my h—’”
“IT’S MINE!” The girl finally confessed. “It’s mine, please stop reading!”
Onshe read on silently to herself, her eye widened. She placed the scroll back on the table, trying not to throw up. “You really went all-out on your imagination, didn't you?”
“So,” Devon said to the girl, “Now that we’ve confirmed this is your camp, are you ready to start talking?”
Her fake defiance propped back up. “Never.”
“Lieutenant Onshe, please keep reading the scroll.”
“I’d rather not, Devon.”
He sighed, grabbing the paper and finding a passage to read out. “It can’t be that bad.” The girl’s face went paler than before. Not even a minute passed before he said, “Cyril, you’re an Android, you haven’t got standards, please read this until she cracks.” He passed them the scroll, turning on his helmet’s noise-cancellation.
Before the Android read the first sentence, the girl tried her best to rip it off his hand, to which they raised it only a few inches above her reach.
“’I’m starting to think I don’t particularly find myself interested in boys—’”
Her face went red now. At long last, the girl finally hit her limit. “Fine, I’ll talk!”
“You could’ve started with something more embarrassing, Cyril,” Onshe remarked.
“This was,” they said, “The rest of this is just pure—”
The girl finally managed to grab the scroll off his hands. Well, she grabbed the bottom, the whole parchment ripped in two.
“You understand,” Cyril said, “I’ve already memorised six very interesting entries.”
Devon turned off his noise cancellation. “What happened, is she talkative yet?”
“Hopefully,” Cyril replied. He looked down at the girl. “You gonna talk or am I going to have to expose to everyone in this camp your very rigid collection of a very certain thing?”
The girl nodded. She was backed into a corner, and instead of lashing out like an animal, she sat down.
“First question,” Devon said, “How are you speaking English?”
“I— what’s English?”
“What you’re speaking right now.”
“I’m not speaking…” She trailed off, beginning to stare at the personnel like their brains melted and oozed out their ears. “It’s a universal interpreter.”
Devon was intrigued. “A translator?”
“We have those,” Onshe said.
“Not like this. Lips are syncing, tone’s very convincing, it’s like in those old science-fiction shows. Tell me, how does it work?”
“I— I don’t know,” the girl said. “Everyone has one built into them when we’re born. I don’t know the specifics.”
“Why am I hearing English from her, then?” Onshe asked. “My first language is Pyeri.”
“Try speaking it to her,” Devon said.
The Arvan spoke her native tongue. At least, she thought it was her native tongue. Everyone else just heard her hesitantly say, “Hi, how’s life?”
The girl’s eyes trailed off before returning. “Errrm… good?”
Onshe nodded. MacLean shouted from the back of the tent, “All due respect, ma’am, I just heard English!”
“Really? Oh.” Onshe was disappointed.
“Well, now that that’s out of the way. Let’s get the real questions in,” Devon said, taking a seat.
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Kumar just needed air, just for a little bit. For all the intents of the suit allowing her to feel like she was breathing fresh air, she knew she wasn't. It wasn’t proper.
She leaned on a rock face near the camp. Her helmet slowly receded back into her suit. For the first time in weeks, Kumar felt as if she was back home.
“You’re going to catch your death if you keep that up,” Louis said.
Kumar’s helmet quickly re-materialised. “Keep what up?”
“Just keep your helmet on, the last thing we need on the ship is a mini-epidemic.”
“I thought you would be with Devon.”
“MacLean and Cyril are handling it, I trust them. Besides, they’re just over there.” He pointed to the tents, before leaning on the wall next to her. “What do you reckon’s down that cave?”
“Again, I don’t know.”
“You haven’t speculated anything, at least?”
“No. I haven’t. I haven’t really been thinking that much about this mission.”
“Maybe…” Louis thought for a few seconds. “It’s a temple. At the end of it, is a golden idol. You need a bag of sand to replace the weight on it once it’s in your hands.”
Kumar squinted her eyes in confusion. “What?”
Louis deadpanned. “Indiana Jones.”
“What about him?”
“You haven’t watched the films?”
“No, no. Old films were always my… they were always my brother’s thing.” Kumar looked down to the floor, watching a blue worm burrow itself out of the ground, passing the metal shine of her shoe.
Louis lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, again. Do you want to talk about him?”
“I don’t think it’d be a good time right now.”
“I’m always free to talk, you know.”
Kumar looked at him, a half smile was etched on her lips. Eventually, they were called into the camp.
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“They think we’re… cultists?” Xian asked.
“Apparently so,” Devon said on the bridge’s viewscreen. “Still, threatening to read her diary to her finally made her talk. Her name’s Heni, claims to be a Seroran. As far as we’re concerned, she isn’t native to this planet.”
“But, she’s essentially Human?” Allen asked, placing his flask of tea back down in the chair’s cup holder.
“According to Nurse Pale, it’s a point six-percent difference to Terran DNA. Akin to the Farahali, no discernible differences.”
“What about the ‘interpreter’, how does it work?”
“She doesn’t seem to know. I can figure it out with an understanding of the design. Best I can say is whatever language you’re speaking, the other person will speak it back. This doesn’t change with writing, however.”
An actual translator. With one of those, so much effort would be saved in first contact situations.“Right, well, we’ll talk about putting language teachers out of a job at another point, Devon. Have you got any information on the source of the signal?”
“Well, Heni just discovered lying a couple minutes ago. Every time we threaten her with a diary entry, the story changes.”
“Basically, there’s no winning with her,” Allen stated.
“Not for the moment, no. We’re planning to send a probe down into the cave, the data we’ve gathered from the computers have provided some use to us, but nothing of overall significance.”
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
“If I may enquire,” Xian chimed in, “Was there any information on these ‘cultists’ we should be concerned about?”
“No. I will ask, now that you mention it.”
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” The voice of a Brummie cried.
An accented female’s voice followed, “DON’T LOOK AT THAT! PUT IT DOWN!”
Allen jumped out of his seat. “What’s happening?!”
Devon looked to his side before averting back toward the screen. He sighed, tightly pinching the bridge of his nose. “Nothing… just… Devon out.” The Science Officer’s face disappeared, the hue of the planet returned to screen.
The Captain and First Officer exchanged glances.
“Should we be worried, Captain?” Xian questioned.
“Ignorance is bliss, Commander. Whatever’s going on down there is Devon’s problem.”
“I’m talking about the mention of ‘cultists’, sir.” Xian leaned to the side of his chair. “I think we should be preparing ourselves for any sort of attack. Any rumour of a threat to the crew I’d feel much safer being prepared for.”
“I mean it’s a bit early to commit to any decisions.”
“If these cultists are going to be a problem, we won’t know their true capabilities. We may as well.”
Allen tapped his hand, thinking for a few moments. “JADE?”
The AI’s voice popped in from above. “Yes, Captain?”
“Prep a few more probes, we might have some unwanted visitors sometime soon. I want to be aware when they come.”
“Of course. Would you like me to place the nuclear warheads on standby?”
Allen looked at Xian for approval. The First Officer gave a nod. “Please do. I’d much like it to be the entire arsenal.”
“Sir,” one of the bridge officers, Leftenant Mahogany, spoke up, “Would that not be a bit excessive?”
“Well, err…”
Xian attempted to take over. “If I may, Captain?”
“Be my guest, Commander.”
Xian smiled at Allen before glaring to Mahogany. “Leftenant, you might as well figure this out now, when exploring strange new worlds, you are much safer with several-hundred nuclear warheads than without them. Otherwise, the only place you’re boldly going to is a bloody cremation.”
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The caverns deep below spanned perhaps for miles and miles. That was, at least, according to the readings from the drone and the camp.
It took a few seconds for a map to be pathed. If it was correct, they would only arrive within ten minutes.
The drone slowly hovered through, Monso tried his best to make sure no weird formations or tight spaces would be its downfall. They only had so many of these.
As expected, it was uneventful. Oddly enough, this was therapeutic for the Farahali engineer. Most of the time, he could not work without Kendrick cracking some braindead conversation starter. One of his previous ones, how werewolves would fare if it was on Luna, was stuck in his mind for ages.
Each turn, each moment of descent, he was in full focus. Whenever someone said anything, either him or another engineer told them to, in the most polite sense, shut their gobs.
At some point, however, he stopped. The drone hovered in place staring at the floor. Monso raised an eyebrow, switching between different readings. Infrared, thermal, chemical. For a full minute, he was focussed on the glowing phenomenon on the ground. His intellect cycling through tens of possibilities. Could it be a plant? A liquid? A peer into an entirely separate dimension?
“Why’s he staring at a glowstick?” He heard Kumar whisper.
The Ensign was about to turn and shut her up, before realising that there was a slight chance he was being what would be best referred to as, in the scientific sense, completely and utterly obtuse.
Monso shifted the drone’s gaze straight. More glowsticks were traced along the path. He turned it around, the same set of glowsticks.
“Someone’s been down here,” he declared, before turning around. “Likely entered through the cave entrance. Should I follow the lights, sir or proceed along the designated path?”
Devon looked at the girl, Heni. There was something off about her look, as if Monso’s whole performance pinched a nerve.
“Proceed with caution, Monso.”
“Copy.” His golden eyes were glued back to the control screen.
The drone furthered through the system. There were more signs of that person, a snapped rope, bits of fabric on the limestone floor. No signs of major injury, the guy likely only fell ten, fifteen metres.
About three more minutes passed by before old alloys were detected in the stone. Devon popped closer to the screen, Monso nearly scolded him before remembering he worked with the man who wrote his paycheques.
“Scan them, send the readings to me,” he ordered. Monso did so. Devon stared over the tablet, a slight smirk appeared on his lips. “Solar Empire. Keep going, record as much as you can to my device.”
The scans could only penetrate the surface, only alloy readings were picked up. There had been carvings on the walls, however. Devon couldn’t recognise them, he called Kumar over.
The contractor squinted at the screen, trying to make out the ancient engravings. “Wouldn’t the girl’s translator work on this?”
“Apparently not.”
“I-it doesn’t work on symbols,” Heni said. Surprisingly, she had been completely infatuated with the process the entire time.
“I feel like the more I think about the translator, the bigger migraine I’ll get,” Onshe remarked from the back.
Kumar moved on, asking Monso to brighten the screen. The symbols had clearly eroded over time, she was still able to make something out. She thought back to her university days.
A couple moments passed. Devon said, “If you don’t know, it’s fine. We can just pull up something on the tablets. Maybe ask JADE.”
“No, wait… I’m trying to figure out if it means… I think it’s telling us to eff off. Hang on…” Kumar squinted six different ways before she narrowed down some more likely results. “Tomb, vault, chamber, no parking after six… no, hold on, no parking after seven.”
Monso pressed something on the controls, something showed up on the screen. “I’d like to correct you: no parking after ten. You were close.”
“Just keep moving ahead, Monso.”
The screen suddenly fuzzed a few more metres in. Monso stopped the search. “We’re edging out of bounds. We can’t go any further without the drone losing connection.”
Devon sighed out his nose. “Bring the drone back. The rest of you, we’re going caving.”
----------------------------------------
“I want to come!” Heni shouted as seven of the soldiers planned to make their way into the caverns.
Everything told her this was a terrible idea, but she couldn't have just stayed up here. Her father was down there, and right now, he needed her. She might have been killed either way by these people, but she would rather have died trying to make an effort.
“No,” the bearded one, Devon, stated to her. “You’re not going anywhere. This is dangerous.”
“I can help! I’ve worked— I’ve been to ruins of the ancients before!”
“So have we. Difference is, you could get yourself hurt. A shirt and pants ain’t the most ideal clothing for something like this.”
Perhaps she could have tugged on their mirage of heartstrings. “My father, he’s down there. He’ll… he’ll want to know— I want to know if he’s safe.”
A few of the soldiers glared at each other. This was good, maybe she was able to sway them.
“No,” Devon said.
“I have climbing equipment.”
“It’s a helmet and some ropes, sir,” Cyril brought up.
“She’s not going anywhere, then,” Devon said.
Heni stammered again. “I can translate!”
That caught the leader’s attention. “What?”
“My translator. It doesn’t work after a certain distance. If you need to read the Ancient’s words, you need me.”
A few seconds of silence took place. Devon groaned. “Someone get the girl’s stuff.”
Heni hid her glee.
Unfortunately, caving meant more that she would have to be carried by the bird person the entire way.
They decided to take the route of her father’s flares before diverting somewhere else. Eventually, the daylight faded, perhaps the last time Heni would have seen it. Their only visibility were the bright lights beaming from everyone’s helmets, burning the girl’s retinas.
“So, Heni,” the bird woman said, “What err… what brought you to do all of this?”
Was she being probed for more information? They had more than what they needed from the computers. Heni tried to cut her off. “You know I can walk on my own, right?”
“Not with what you’ve got on, love. A helmet can’t stop half a cavern collapsing.”
“Can yours?”
“Well… no. Not really. But we’d have less bones broken.”
Devon suddenly cut the conversation short. “Big drop up ahead.”
“Does this suit have thrusters or anything?” The brown-skinned one asked. Heni wondered what the point was bringing her in the first place.
“Yeah,” the bird woman said. “You’re better off jumping, though. The thrusters should be automatic.”
The brown woman looked at the bird concerningly. “What if it doesn't activate?”
“Then the impact goes into your suit,” the soldier said. “You’re fine either way, Kumar.”
One of the other soldiers went first. There was a hiss before they reached the bottom. “Forty metre drop, lads!” His voice echoed from below.
A few more went after. The brown woman hesitated. “No, no. I’m going back up. I’m not doing th—”
One groaned and shoved her off. She screeched at a constant pitch the whole way down.
“YOU’RE A CUNT, LOUIS!” She shouted from below.
“Did you land properly, Indie?!” The one who shoved her asked.
“I CAN’T FEEL MY LEGS!” There was a pause. “NEVER MIND, IT’S JUST PINS AND NEEDLES!”
The bird woman stepped forward. “Hold on tight,” she told Heni.
“Actually, maybe I should—” Heni quickly shut her eyes and gripped onto the bird as she leaped off. “—I REGRET EVERYTHING!”
A hot hiss came from below, Heni felt the drop slow. Eventually, she dropped, and every moment of her life, from the memory of walking to her father as a foundling to… well, now. She didn’t realise the bird woman dropped her once they were already on the ground.
Heni scowled at the bird. “What was that for?!”
“We’re already here now.”
“I thought you were trying to keep me safe!”
“I thought you wanted to stretch your legs, love.”
The rest dropped down, slowing as lights shifted out of their wastes, softening the landing.
Heni switched the light on her helmet on, it was simply more rock for the next ‘hundred-and-twenty metres’, as one stated.
Devon said something over the radio, updating the soldiers above on their status. Soon enough, the markings from the computer earlier showed on the walls.
“A few more paces ahead, and we’ll have no more radio contact above. Remember, we don’t know what’s ahead.” Devon took off his rifle from his back. “Could be anything down here.”
The soldiers positioned themselves in a way to keep sure Heni would not breach her own captivity. Even so, there would be nowhere else to go. There was only so much charge in her torch. Best case scenario, she would escape and starve before anyone ever found her.
Soon enough, a great door stood ahead of them, towering high above with the hanging stalactites. The material was an odd concoction between artificial alloys and the grey rock surrounding them, with further markings dotted on its rim.
There was one more flare on the floor. No body. Her father must still have been alive.
“We don’t have to do a puzzle, do we?” One asked.
“This is a vault,” the brown woman said. “We have one like this back on Earth in Indonesia. Went there on a trip.”
“What was in there?” The bird woman asked.
“Bored tour guides and some funky markings. Oh, and a stupidly expensive gift shop.”
“Anything that could help us now, Kumar?” Devon requested.
“Well, the Japanese bought all of it to get back at the Chinese in the late 21st Century. All I remember were the weird excavation machines left in there. The actual artefacts are all in Tsukuba.”
“Do you know, or not?!” Devon shouted.
“S-sorry, I don’t know.”
“Are there any relations to other ruins you have found, sir?” The soldier that pushed the brown one off the drop, Louis, asked.
“There weren’t any parking rules or anything.” Devon pointed. “Console up ahead. Anybody getting any traps on their HUDs?”
Multiple ‘nos’ came from the group, and so they marched forward with their guns raised on all angles.
There was a console-looking thing to the side of the door. Heni moved towards it, something black was swirling, glistening the light of her helmet.
Devon ran ahead. “I’ll handle this! Nobody touch anything.” His hand reached out to the console, the black enveloped his hand. He stood frozen for several seconds.
“You okay there, sir?” One of the soldiers asked.
“Loads of Solarian tech uses this. So long as I’m Human, it’ll let me in.”
The black moulded in and out through his hand, analysing each pore, each bit of dead skin hanging under his fingernails.
It receded, Devon pulled away, checking to see if his hand was still intact. There came a low rumble, the gap between the two great doors lit up as they departed.
Heni squinted as she turned off the light on her helmet, allowing the bright yellow to consume the whole room. It was as if she was glimpsing into paradise itself. All this work, all this time, resulting in this majesty.
And she was waiting to get shot.
----------------------------------------
“You ever reckon what it’s like to be Human, Ben?” Kendrick asked.
Ben looked up. “Why would I want to be a Human?”
“I dunno. Experience food, experience… sex? I mean Androids are a bit limited, aren’t you?”
“If I would be any sapient being, it would be a Deq’inril.”
Kendrick raised an eyebrow. “Like Stephen? He just sits around all day!”
“Exactly. As per his biology, he is well in his rights to do so. Humans need to be on the move all the time.”
“So, you’d just want to be a lazy sod?”
“I wouldn't expect you to understand the struggles of my people.”
“Ben, you’re basically unionised with more disposable income than me. If anything, you’re bleeding privileged.”
“I was making a joke, William.”
Kendrick’s organic eye looked to the side for a second before going back to the Android. “Right. Right. Never took you one for jokes.”
“That’s because you’re always the loudest.”
Kendrick got up off the table. “I’m going for a smoke.”
“Your funeral if you inhale the next Black Death.”
“I have to die somehow, mate.”
Kendrick stepped outside from the building, pulling out a box of cigarettes. He stuck one in his mouth, before flicking a lighter.
He inhaled the chemicals. Compared to the wet air, the wonders of nicotine had played much more naturally to him.
Rustling suddenly caught his ears. Kendrick looked to the side, something was skittering in the tall grass. Not skittering, lurking.
His helmet materialised, he activated his heat vision, silently signalling the rest of the base at the press of a button on his wrist.
There was someone in the grass, attempting to lay low. The large automated turret next to him seemed to be aware of it, at least Kendrick had a friend at the moment.
“You know we can see you, right?!” He shouted to the grass.
The heat signature, a humanoid crouching, flinched upon hearing his voice.
“Look, my fifty-calibre friend here has a very itchy trigger finger.” Kendrick leaned on the turret. “So, unless you want to be looking like my spaghetti bolognese in the next three seconds, I’d suggest you come out with your hands in the air!”
The signature stayed low, they attempted to grab something from the side. Immediately, the turret sprayed into the grass. The bright orange on Kendrick’s visor split into a hundred different parts like a smashed Lego set.
“Oh, bollocks.”
Ben ran over, holding a submachine gun in their arms. A few others followed behind. “What’s the situation?”
“We had someone on the rim of the perimeter.” He pointed to the red blood in the grass, with a few pink bits laying around for the birds. “The gun set off.”
“Were they showing any hostile intent?”
“I asked them to put their hands in the air, I gave them a ch—” An alert appeared on Kendrick’s HUD, on everyone’s HUD. The turret sprayed again into the distance as bright flashes dashed by.
Kendrick got hit in the head, sending him to the mud. Plasma cracked his visor, but no proper damage was made.
Ben dragged him behind a barricade. “Are you okay?!”
“It’s plasma ammo!” Kendrick shouted. His breath was heavy, his heart was hammering, but he was smiling like a loon.
“Thirty hostiles on the southeastern flank!” Leftenant Weiss shouted over the comms.
Ben scanned Kendrick’s body. No injuries, maybe a mark to the head. “Can you walk?!”
“Of course I can!” Kendrick pulled himself up, just underneath the protection of the barricade. “I need a gun!”
One of the security personnel threw him a handgun. “Twelve rounds in there!”
Kendrick ended up scanning the gun, the ammunition was recorded to the top left of his HUD. A few more magazines were thrown at him, hitting him in the shoulder.
----------------------------------------
“So, I was thinking switching from Virgin to Kosmo, then? I mean, I’d’ve preferred BT but—”
Imogen was cut off as JADE barged from above. “Captain, the base is currently under attack!”
Allen took a few seconds to process, then groaned. “For God’s sake.”
“Answer me, bab!” Imogen shouted.
“Steal Tariq’s service or something!” Allen hung up, marched out of the room and onto the bridge.
Xian left the middle seat for Allen. “We’ve got perhaps thirty to fifty hostiles taking up flank against the base,” he told him.
“Casualties?”
“Two injured so far. The front seems to be holding.” A map of the site showed up on the viewscreen. Their side was marked in blue, the other in a blurred red. “The hostiles seemed to be armed with plasma firearms. They do not seem to have as much effect on the crew’s armour - in small doses, at least.”
“I thought we were the only sapients on the planet,” Allen stated. “Did we miss something? JADE, did you pick up anything from the probes we sent off earlier?”
“Negative, Captain.”
“Oh, God. Erm…” Allen went through all the options in his head. The base was too close for an orbital strike. They could have sent off a fighter craft to do a bombing run, but that would take it perhaps ten minutes at the quickest for it to arrive. A lot could happen in that time. But it was the only option they had. “Fighter craft, bombing run. Do it.”
“Affirmative, Cap— oh, hello.” JADE trailed off. “We’re getting a transmission.”
“No doubt our new friends,” Allen moaned pinching the bridge of his nose. “JADE, put the whole ship on red alert and prepare the nukes.”
The screen halved into two, with the map of the battle on one side, and on the other, a hooded silhouette.
“You are no doubt aware of our actions on the surface, dear Captain,” the hooded figure said. “You have simply forced yourselves onto an event you were not invited to. Your crew are doomed. Unlike my sisters and brothers, I am much more merciful. We will give you this one chance to leave.”
JADE muted their audio. “Six warheads ready on your command, Captain.”