Captain Clark:
September 5, 2025
07:14 CST
The S.A.F. Autumn
45,000 feet by 24 miles northeast of Victoria TX.
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“Captain, I just managed to hack into the other ship’s mainframe computer. They’re about to enter trajectory flight. Some guy named Colonel Sirnic is ordering that ship to head to Langley immediately,” John shouted, his voice laced with urgency.
At the mention of Sirnic’s name, my face twisted in disgust. That bastard.
“Sir, they also know everything about Project Cayro. Or at least the superhuman engineering portion of it,” Chris announced, working furiously alongside Nick to dig deeper into the enemy ship’s systems.
“Of course they do. Colonel Sirnic is in charge of this mess,” I growled, baring my teeth. I hated that man with a burning intensity. I knew he’d eventually come back, seeking revenge for what had happened all those years ago. And now, here we were, right in the middle of the storm he’d brewed.
“Does anyone have a status on Cayro?” I barked, the tension in my voice palpable.
“Negative, Sir,” Tiffany replied, concern etched on her face. As she answered, an alarm blared at Desiree’s station, snapping us all to attention.
“Sir, someone is trying to launch—Captain, it’s the malfunctioning skycar! It’s launching on its own!” Desiree reported, her voice edged with disbelief.
“What!” I snapped, whipping around to face her. She met my gaze with wide, startled eyes before turning back to her terminal. My own hands flew over the controls as I switched to the hangar bay camera, my heart pounding. The feed showed the skycar launching straight out of the bay, and then Scuzball appeared on his pedestal, making me flinch in surprise.
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“I am the one launching the vehicle,” he explained nonchalantly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why?” I demanded, my patience wearing thin.
“I had Doctor Zaraki prepare it for Star and Cayro. It will be their transport to Virginia. I had to launch it early due to Cayro’s injury. Following that, Star and Cayro are clear of the U.S.S. Death Reckoning. You can commence your attack,” he explained, his tone infuriatingly calm. My feed switched from the hangar bay to display Cayro’s life signs. His heart rate was dangerously low, and his oxygen levels were plummeting.
“What happened?” I demanded, a knot of fear tightening in my chest.
“Cayro was stabbed in the shoulder,” Scuzball stated bluntly. A new feed appeared, showing Cayro’s suit with a flashing red spot indicating the damage at the back of his left shoulder.
“Cayro needs help, and you wouldn’t be fast enough to get to him,” the A.I. said, his voice almost too calm for the gravity of the situation.
I shut my mouth, swallowing the fear that threatened to choke me. Think, Andrew, think. “Does the skycar have an onboard front camera?” I asked, already formulating a plan.
“Yes,” Scuzball replied.
“Connect it to the main display,” I ordered, my voice steady despite the chaos around me.
The main bridge display flickered to life, and the image from the skycar appeared. Everyone on the bridge watched in tense silence as Cayro and Star came into view. Star was holding Cayro up with her shoulder while piloting the skyboard toward the ship. He didn’t look well—he looked like he was barely hanging on.
“How long until the skycar reaches them?” I asked, my voice tight.
“Less than ninety seconds,” the A.I. responded.
“Good. Let me know when they’re safe. In the meantime, prepare the Autumn for trajectory flight. We can’t let the Death Reckoning get that information back to Langley,” I ordered, my mind already racing ahead to the next steps.
“Captain! The Death Reckoning just sent out a transmission to Air Combat Command informing them that Star escaped. They’re still under orders to get back to Langley. Barksdale will be sending forces to deal with us,” Chris announced, his tone grim.
“Understood. Continue to prepare for orbital launch. Seal off the hangar bay and all damaged areas,” I commanded, the weight of the situation bearing down on me. We were running out of time.
A ship-wide announcement rang out, alerting the crew that trajectory flight was imminent. The sound of doors slamming shut and sealing echoed through the ship as we began to rise to fifty thousand feet. I pulled out my seat restraints and fastened myself into my chair as the nose of the Autumn tilted upwards, the ship straining against gravity as we ascended.
We couldn’t afford any mistakes now. Cayro’s life—and perhaps the fate of more than just this ship—depended on our next move.