CMS Helsing
09:37 CST
November 3, 2030
The Chaos Reckoning
Duluth, Minnesota
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I stood on the flight deck of the Chaos Reckoning as a brutal winter wind cut through the air, sharp as a blade. We’d flown into this hellacious storm over Lake Superior early this morning, and now snow blasted us head-on from the east, carrying a cold that clawed through my winter gear. The wind seemed determined to knock me off my feet and chill me down to the bone. Visibility was near zero, so we had the 152nd out on their tactical skyboards, setting up landing beacons and scouting the drop zone right beside the Costco.
The Chaos Reckoning wasn’t the biggest ship in the Free States’ arsenal—in fact, it was one of the smallest combat ships. But in terms of raw firepower and sheer presence, she could rival the Crescent Moon any day. That smaller size was a strategic advantage in a storm like this, allowing Captain Edwards and the crew to land in tighter areas where other ships would struggle. Luckily, we’d found an open field next to the Costco—a space just large enough to bring her down without causing a full-scale disaster.
“Touchdown clear,” Major Skitchatory’s voice crackled over the headset. I could barely make out her words as the wind’s howl crossed our mics, turning the coms into a nightmare of feedback.
I glanced over at one of the 152nd’s skystrikers perched on the wing’s edge, using his board’s thrusters and anti-gravity emitters to stay balanced in the wild gusts. He held one gloved hand low, fingers circling downward in the all-clear motion for landing.
“Bridge, proceed with landing,” I relayed over the coms.
“Roger that—proceed—landing,” came the reply, fractured by static as the storm scrambled our connection.
Communications had been glitchy ever since we hit this snowstorm, the interference creating chaos we’d never seen before—not even in other storms. The entire crew was on edge as the Chaos Reckoning began its descent, inching closer to the frozen ground. Then, with a fierce blast, a gust shoved the ship sideways.
The impact threw me off my feet, and I slid across the flight deck on my ass, heading straight for the edge. Reaching out, I grabbed the magnetic launch rail and stopped myself just in time. Above, the skystriker I’d seen earlier shot past, struggling to keep control as his board’s thrusters spat in defiance, fighting the wind’s fury. The chatter in my headset dissolved into a broken chorus of static as everyone tried to communicate over the interference. The Chaos Reckoning’s engines thundered, groaning under the strain as they compensated for the sudden lurch.
After a few more nerve-racking shifts and shudders, I felt the Chaos Reckoning finally settle onto the ground. I exhaled a long breath that fogged up instantly in the cold, and I headed inside as fast as I could. Whoever had decided it was a brilliant idea to send us to Duluth, Minnesota, in the dead of winter to fetch a load of potatoes… well, they were going to get a piece of my mind once we made it to Knoxville. Surely there had to be a more reasonable location for a potato run than this frozen hellscape.
Once inside, I gave myself a quick shake but kept my coat on; the ship’s environmental system had been acting up since the early morning. I’d rolled out of Nick’s warm arms to face frigid temperatures as if we’d camped in the Arctic. Engineers had been working non-stop to figure out what was wrong, but no matter what adjustments they made, the heating just wouldn’t kick on. They were baffled, and meanwhile, the entire crew was bundled up in layers like we were stationed on the damn tundra.
I made my way onto the bridge, where Nick was in the captain’s chair, coordinating landing mode procedures while the crew worked to get everything rigged for “Operation SpudNik.” The place was alive with controlled chaos, people dashing back and forth, bundled in winter gear, as Nick directed them with his usual steady command. Once he spotted me, he strode over.
“Ready to dive into this mess of a mission?” I asked, grinning, knowing full well how ridiculous this was bound to get.
He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, it feels like everything that can go wrong, is going wrong with this one. Let’s hope the 254th and the 152nd are prepared for the worst.”
“Raven’s team is already out there in the thick of it, cursing up a storm, I’m sure,” I teased.
“Oh, no doubt,” Nick replied, chuckling. “This wind and snow must be giving their boards hell right about now.”
I nodded, musing aloud, “I’m really curious how well the 254th will handle this winter nightmare. They’re infantry, but even as a Ranger, I’d think twice before stepping out into this weather.”
“It’ll be something to see,” Nick agreed, heading with me toward the hangar bay.
When we entered, the sight took me off guard. The entire 254th was assembled, waiting in formation in their wolf forms, suited up in their standard military gear, helmets instead of caps, and tinted goggles against the biting wind. Standing at parade rest, each of them had their tails low, not a single twitch or flick of an ear. It was an odd, almost surreal sight to see a unit of werewolves ready for orders like this. I shot Nick a look, eyebrow raised; he just chuckled, shrugging before facing the assembled unit.
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“Begin Operation SpudNik,” he announced.
The rear hangar bay doors began to open, and an arctic blast tore through, whipping flurries of snow into the already frigid air. Not a single wolf in the 254th shifted as the icy wind blasted through the formation. It reached us next, rocking us back slightly, the cold biting at any exposed skin. I suppressed a shiver as Alpha Balfour’s voice cut through the storm like a blade.
“Pack! Attention!” he barked.
With synchronized precision, the entire unit snapped from parade rest to attention, their tails lifting and curling proudly, like the arch of a husky’s tail in the cold.
“About… Face!” came his next command.
In one sharp, fluid movement, they turned 180 degrees, the echo of their boots striking the deck in unison.
“Forward! March!” Balfour called out, his voice steady and commanding. They were marching directly into what could only be described as a frozen hell.
“Left! Left! Left! Right, left!” Alpha Balfour’s cadence rang out like a steady drumbeat, each step hitting the deck in flawless timing. His voice dropped into the cadence.
Alpha:
“We are wolves, fierce and free.”
254th:
“We are wolves, fierce and free.”
Alpha:
“254th, you can’t beat me!”
254th:
“254th, you can’t beat me!”
Alpha:
“Left, left, left, right, left!”
Alpha:
“Howl with pride, we roam the night.”
254th:
“Howl with pride, we roam the night.”
Alpha:
“Side by side, we’re ready to fight!”
254th:
“Side by side, we’re ready to fight!”
Alpha:
“Left, left, left, right, left!”
Alpha:
“Through the storm, or blazing sun.”
254th:
“Through the storm, or blazing sun.”
Alpha:
“The pack moves as one till the battle’s won!”
254th:
“The pack moves as one till the battle’s won!”
Alpha:
“Left, left, left, right, left!”
Alpha:
“Blood runs strong, and hearts are true.”
254th:
“Blood runs strong, and hearts are true.”
Alpha:
“254th is comin’ for you!”
254th:
“254th is comin’ for you!”
Alpha:
“Left, left, left, right, left!”
Alpha:
“We hunt as wolves, sharp as steel.”
254th:
“We hunt as wolves, sharp as steel.”
Alpha:
“Tooth and claw, we break the seal!”
254th:
“Tooth and claw, we break the seal!”
Alpha:
“Left, left, left, right, left!”
Alpha:
“We’re the pack, the fierce and bold.”
254th:
“We’re the pack, the fierce and bold.”
Alpha:
“Standin’ strong in the cold.”
254th:
“Standin’ strong in the cold.”
Alpha:
“Left, left, left, right, left!”
Alpha:
“Bound by blood and bound by pride.”
254th:
“Bound by blood and bound by pride.”
Alpha:
“Marchin’ forward, side by side!”
254th:
“Marchin’ forward, side by side!”
Alpha:
“Left, left, left, right, left!”
Nick and I watched in silence as the 254th marched with unwavering discipline into the blizzard, their tails high, heads set forward. The cadences rang out boldly into the howling storm, a relentless battle cry against the elements. The snow whipped around them, but the pack pushed through, cutting a path for us to follow.
Stepping out into the biting cold, Nick and I trailed several paces behind, and I caught sight of Raven hovering nearby on her skyboard, scanning the scene as the wolves charged headfirst through the snow. Their voices, deep and united, carried through the storm as a testament to the pack’s strength. I waved Raven down, and she descended, stepping off her board to stand before me.
“Yes, Sergeant?” Raven asked, her stance at attention despite the blizzard howling around us.
“Send the 152nd in to back up the 254th. We’re getting this over and done with, and fast. Here are the order documents; make sure the store manager knows we're clearing out their spud stock,” I said, handing her the paperwork.
“Roger that, ma’am,” she replied with a nod, keying her mic. “152nd, move in and assist the wolves!”
In an instant, she was back on her skyboard, speeding into the storm and aiming straight for Costco. I stood and watched as the 254th faded into the thick wall of snow, their voices still cutting through the wind in defiant cadence. Moments later, the 152nd screamed into the fray, racing to support the wolves. Werewolves and vampiric hybrids… for potatoes. This is what my life had come to.
Three hours later, the hangar was filled with towering crates of spuds, packed from floor to ceiling. The 254th was hauling in the last few crates when a voice I didn’t recognize sounded from behind.
Turning, I faced a young woman bundled in a Costco-emblazoned winter coat, her face flushed from the cold. She looked as if she couldn’t believe she’d made it all the way to the Chaos Reckoning.
“Can I help you?” I asked, doing my best to keep my tone professional.
“Uh… yes,” she stammered. “I’m the store manager. The young lady—Major Skitchatory, I think? She said she was authorized to sign the order, but I’ll either need… uh, Captain Nicholas Edwards or Chief Master Sergeant Ashley Helsing.” She looked down at the paperwork, then back up at me, wide-eyed. “Are you… Ms. Ashley Helsing?”
I stifled a sigh. “Yes, I’m Chief Master Sergeant Helsing,” I replied, reaching for the clipboard. She pointed to every box in need of a signature, and I went through, feeling like I was signing away my firstborn child… all for potatoes.
“Thank you,” she managed, clutching the signed documents before fleeing the hangar bay as fast as her legs would carry her. I supposed our ‘unique’ approach to grocery shopping was a bit intimidating.
As I turned back to survey the mountain of crates, I caught sight of Raven and Ray sneaking behind a stack, laden with extra bags dangling from their arms. They were slipping toward the corridors, probably thinking they were in the clear. I narrowed my eyes, already adding a quarters inspection to my mental checklist. Whatever they’d smuggled aboard would be found… and confiscated.
The hangar bay doors began to close, and I could feel the engines rumbling back to life. With a final look at the chaotic mess of inventory, I left the crew to finish sorting the spuds and headed for the bridge.
Reaching the bridge, I found Nick seated in the captain’s perch, barking out commands with a furrowed brow as the ship began to shudder under the weight. Groans echoed through the hull as we lifted from the ground. I felt a spike of apprehension.
“How much do these damn potatoes weigh?” I muttered under my breath, casting a glance at Nick. He met my gaze, a similar worry flickering in his eyes. This was more weight than the Chaos Reckoning had ever lifted.
As the engines pushed us upward, I could hear the creaks and groans of stressed metal, and I found myself crossing my fingers, praying the old girl would hold. This ship had seen battles, but here we were, testing her limits for crates of potatoes.