The corridors of Phoenix Station were quieter than usual as Hayes walked toward the debriefing hall. The URT’s colors—red, white, and a streak of planetary gold—hung in holographic banners along the walls. But the familiar symbols only deepened the weight in his chest.
He’d spent the morning replaying the Titan mission in his mind. The rebels hadn’t been the monsters the URT portrayed them as. Most of them had been scared, desperate, fighting for something he didn’t understand. And the boy...
The boy was a face he couldn’t shake.
“Sergeant Hayes.”
The voice came from a shadowed alcove. Hayes stopped, instinctively reaching for the pistol at his side. A figure emerged: Reese.
“How the hell—” Hayes started, but Reese raised a hand.
“Relax,” she said, glancing down the hallway. “This station has more blind spots than a 200-year-old drone. And let’s just say I know a few tricks.”
“What do you want?”
“To show you something,” Reese said, pulling a slim data pad from her coat. “And before you get all ‘loyal soldier’ on me, just... look. That’s all I’m asking.”
Hayes hesitated but took the pad. The screen flickered to life, displaying video footage from Titan. He recognized the layout of the power station, the same one he’d breached during the mission.
The footage wasn’t from a URT drone, though. It was from inside the rebel base—security cameras.
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The first clip showed civilians huddled in a corner, whispering in panic as soldiers distributed weapons. “We can’t keep holding out like this,” one of the soldiers muttered. “The URT is going to wipe us out.”
“Not if we make this colony too costly to hold,” said another. “We’re fighting for our lives here.”
The second clip hit harder. A woman was cradling a wounded child—no older than the boy Hayes had seen during the fight.
“It’s okay,” the woman murmured, brushing the child’s hair. “Help will come. We just have to hold out a little longer.”
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The final clip made Hayes’ stomach turn. It showed his squad breaching the station’s walls, weapons raised. The rebels fought back, but there were no traps, no hidden weapons caches—just a frantic defense as the soldiers pushed through.
He remembered the moment all too clearly. The screams, the panic, the precision of his own shots.
When the video ended, Hayes handed the pad back to Reese, his jaw tight.
“That’s what you call rebels?” she asked, her tone sharp. “Half of them didn’t even know how to fire a gun. They were miners, engineers. Civilians who picked up arms because they didn’t have a choice.”
Hayes glared at her. “They fired on my squad.”
“Of course, they did,” Reese said, crossing her arms. “Because the URT doesn’t give them another option. Your mission wasn’t to take out a threat—it was to squash resistance. That’s what you are to them, Hayes. Not a soldier. A hammer.”
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For a moment, Hayes didn’t speak. He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts a tangled mess.
“Why are you showing me this?” he finally asked.
“Because you’re more than a hammer,” Reese replied, her voice softening. “At least, you used to be. The guy who saved his squad during the Mirage War? He knew the difference between doing his duty and doing what’s right. Does that guy still exist?”
“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” Hayes muttered, his voice barely audible.
Reese leaned in, her eyes searching his face. “You’re not who they want you to be, Hayes. That’s a good start.”
Before he could respond, she took a step back, slipping the data pad into her pocket. “I’ve got more where that came from. When you’re ready to know the truth, you’ll find me.”
She turned to leave, but Hayes stopped her. “Why me? Why take the risk?”
Reese looked over her shoulder, a faint smirk on her lips. “Because, Sergeant, the URT might’ve brought you back to win their war, but they didn’t account for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That you might still have a conscience.”
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The debriefing was a blur.
General Voss stood at the front of the room, her crisp voice outlining the success of the Titan operation. Hayes barely registered her words.
“...and thanks to Sergeant Hayes’ leadership,” Voss said, gesturing toward him, “we’ve dealt a significant blow to the rebels’ supply lines. A decisive victory for the URT.”
The room erupted in applause, but Hayes stayed frozen in his seat. He could still hear the woman’s voice from the video, still see the fear in her eyes as she clung to the child.
For the flag. For the future.
Hayes stared at his hands, the memory of the rifle heavy in them.
When the debriefing ended, Voss approached him. “You’ve been quiet today, Sergeant. Something on your mind?”
Hayes shook his head, forcing a neutral expression. “No, ma’am. Just tired.”
Voss studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Rest up. Your next mission briefing will be in forty-eight hours.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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That night, Hayes couldn’t sleep.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the polished floor. Reese’s words echoed in his mind, mixing with Voss’s cold pragmatism and the screams from Titan.
The URT didn’t give the rebels a choice.
But maybe Hayes still had one.