Milky Way Galaxy
Outer Edge of Sector 1b
M.W.A.S.S. Karu Mono - Virtual Bridge Environment
Captain Carlos Takumi Garcia
Over 1000 Years After the Fall
Captain Garcia observed his crew at their virtual stations from his virtual captain’s chair as they monitored for signs of enemy activity. This virtual environment felt like second nature to him, but it was alien to almost every remaining human in the Exodus Fleet. Garcia and his crew were among only four unique vessels that operated in this manner —the only four left in the universe: QSubs, or more officially, “Quantum Tunnel Immersion Conduit Craft”, to spell out QTICC. The military loves its acronyms, and we have thousands of years of human history to prove it.
Unlike normal human vessels, QSubs could use quantum subspace for faster-than-light travel without limitations. They could enter, loiter, and move around freely. Their ship’s sensors couldn’t pierce the veil between quantum subspace and normal space, but that’s where their significant collection of probes and drones came in.
Garcia let his mind wander back to the selection process for the QSub program. Humans have a long history of gruelling testing processes to earn their place in elite military units, but the QSub program didn’t require the physically elite as much as the mentally and psychologically elite. Some people didn’t just wash out of the program, they broke. When the QSub program broke you…well, it was typically fatal.
Almost subconsciously, Garcia brought up the readouts of his crew from their pods in the physical world. As always, his XO, Commander David Schmidt, maintained such a proximity to baseline that Garcia could almost believe the sensors had been hacked. Lieutenant Maya Hwang, helmsman and navigator, appeared as someone tense but in control.
The Karu Mono’s two Tactical Action Officers, Lieutenant Ingrid Bergman and Lieutenant Commander Kai Nakamura, read like two individuals with big guns they couldn’t fire. Chief Engineer Lieutenant Commander Lina Morimoto was her usually surly self, and that showed in the readouts, but Garcia had learned long ago that this was just how Chief Engineers were. If TAOs saw everything as a nail to be hammered, Morimoto saw everything as a nut that needed tightening.
Garcia’s only concern came from the readouts of his Sensors Officer, Petty Officer First Class Sofia Garcia-Kwon. As the youngest member of the crew, and therefore the least experienced, her readings were not outside baseline, but the pressure to be accurate was weighing on her.
The pressure Sofia was feeling was not without reason. Her results scanning with the drones and probes would determine the go/no go for the Marines waiting on standby. That thought brought Garcia back around to their mission.
The Karu Mono and her sister ship, the Okhotnik, were to enter this system and scour it for any signs of the enemy—the same enemy that wiped out humanity’s empire over a thousand years ago. QSubs were uniquely suited to this role because they had the capability to sit in quantum subspace. It hadn’t helped during The Fall because QSubs couldn’t attack from subspace, and humanity did not succeed in finding a weakness in their enemy in time. Now, though, it was providing a significant intelligence advantage that allowed the Exodus fleet to search for resources they couldn’t find or manufacture in interstellar space. More importantly, it allowed them to search for Pre-Fall research that could eventually enable them to fight back.
“Update, Petty Officer,” Garcia asked in the virtual space, “any standout concerns?”
Sofia took a moment, then gave her report, “No sir. Spectrals are normal, IR is normal, and stellar objects are tracing paths inside the norms. Okhotnik’s sensor officer is reporting the same.”
“Thank you, Petty Officer.” Garcia turned to his XO, “David, signal the Embercrest and Shroudmoor. The path is clear.”
Milky Way Galaxy
Edge of Sector 1b
M.W.A.S.S. Embercrest
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Corporal Fumiko Sato – 1st Squad, 1st Platoon, Alpha Company, 1st Batt., 2nd Marine Regiment
Fumiko turned her head to the right at the sight of her Lieutenant, Natalia Romanov, reaching up to touch her ear. When Natalia’s head nodded in affirmation, Fumiko switched her focus to her squad, “Final gear checks. Go signal just came in.”
“You sure they don’t need more time, Sato?” asked Private First Class Alejandra Rossi, the sarcasm dripping from her voice, “Maybe another day scanning the system and they can promise we won’t be walking into an ambush this time.”
Fumiko set her jaw and looked Rossi in the eyes. She had a solid head over Fumiko, requiring her to look up, which would intimidate most people her size. Fumiko wasn’t most people though. She had speed, agility, and training in a variety of martial arts, and had beaten Rossi enough times to show it wasn’t luck. Fumiko switched to her squad-leader-no-bullshit voice, “Stow it Marine or you’re on point when we land.” Rossi’s face fell. No one liked being on point. It was a near-guaranteed death sentence if they made contact with the enemy. Rossi knew that. They all did.
Not waiting for a response, Fumiko moved towards her Lieutenant, and Platoon Sergeant Tariq al-Faraj, meeting them halfway. Nodding to Romanov first, “Sir,” then to al-Faraj, “Sarge.”
“Are they ready?” Romanov asked.
Fumiko nodded once more, “Yes sir. Ready to load up.”
Romanov added her own nod, “Scans were clear, but we’re not going to be stupid. Keep your squad tight. They know their jobs, make sure they do them.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Get them on the bugs.” Romanov said, “ETA to planet is fifteen minutes, and in atmo in seventeen.”
“Yes sir.” Fumiko acknowledged, then spun on her heel.
Fumiko’s skin crawled at the term “bugs”, but she wouldn’t let that show. She didn’t have time for phobias. The name referred to one of their more common dropship designs. An oblong spheroid shape with four propulsion pods, one each at what would be the corner of a square-shaped vessel. It gave the ship a loosely bug-like design. The ships could carry up to sixteen passengers and small cargo, or larger cargo if the passenger jumpseats were folded up.
Bug 1 was designated for Fumiko’s squad, plus LT Romanov and Sergeant al-Faraj. Bug 2 held the H-03 MULES, or Multifunction Unmanned Lift and Endurance Support robot. The Marines affectionately nicknamed it the HoeDog. It carried equipment for squads, or allowed carrying mission objectives out of an area of operation. The unit could hover up to 250 meters above ground when carrying less than half of its max weight capacity, an impressive two tonnes, or drop down flush with the ground and drop a ramp with magnetic assistance to pull heavier objects onto the cargo space. This HoeDog was carrying a small load of extra equipment, leaving most of the room for retrieval.
As Fumiko walked back to her squad she raised her voice, “Load up! I want you on Bug 1 inside five. Rossi, you’re double-checking the HoeDog on 1.” The teams grabbed their rucks, rifles, and buckets then headed toward the closest dropship.
Fumiko flagged down Lance Corporal Dariusz Novak. “Gear check, Novak.” Novak set his kit down and started giving her kit the once over. Tugging armour sections to make sure they were secure. Testing the fuel cell at the small of her back. Lastly, confirming her externals such as grenades and tools were maglocked properly.
“Bucket,” Novak gestured to Fumiko’s helmet in her right hand. She donned her helmet, watching the fast boot sequence flicker past and her standard HUD come up. Novak held up a finger and asked, “Tracking?”
Fumiko followed the finger with her eyes through the narrow visor. Through a combination of intelligent features and communication with an implant in her head, the helmet intuited what she wanted and highlighted the finger in an orangish-red colour. Next it switched to a targeting reticle, tracking where she looked on Novak’s finger, then zoomed in close enough to see the nanoweave of the suit’s underlayer.
“Green.” Fumiko Said. Novak nodded, then grabbed his kit and headed for Bug 1. Fumiko pulled her helmet off, then grabbed the rest of her kit. She and her squad would be required to have their helmets on before launch, but there was no need for it right now. Jogging over to the first dropship, she headed up the ramp and stowed her kit at the first seat, port side. Her ruck maglocked to the arm on the overhead and B-33 rifle, called a Bravo by the Marines, slotted into a magnetic rail beside her jumpseat.
Fumiko walked the dropship space confirming her squad was secured. With barely one minute to spare, Rossi came running up the ramp, equipment in hand. “HoeDog is secure, Corporal Sato.” Falling back on military formality.
“Good work, PFC Rossi. Secure your equipment.”
Fumiko returned to her jumpseat, trying to settle her pre-mission nerves. No amount of intel would make these incursions any less unsettling. This was lucky number thirteen for Fumiko, and she hated that any cultural superstition could play a part in her life. It didn’t help that her little sister, Aiko, was a Lance Corporal in the other squad landing today. If it were not against regulations, Fumiko would have Aiko in her squad, but the Exodus fleet wouldn’t let anyone within three familial relations of each other to serve together. Couldn’t risk the genetic diversity of the human race.
Fumiko rested her head against the bulkhead, bucket in her lap, reciting a poem from her youth both to distract her mind, and pass the time.