The red dots were drawing closer, faster than I’d anticipated.
“Keep us out of range,” Andri ordered. “We need to rescue first. Then take them out on the way out.”
I hesitated, my tactical analysis suggesting a different approach. Engaging now might clear a safer extraction path later. But this wasn’t my mission to lead.
“Understood,” I finally said, swallowing my objection. “Captain?”
“Andri’s fine,” he said, his expression softening momentarily. “Please.”
I nodded, plotting our approach vector. “Done, Andri.”
My fingers flew across the nav controls, calculating optimal entry trajectories. “Hostage location attained,” I reported, the coordinates pulsing on my display.
“Can you get us in safely?” Rob asked, studying the tactical overlay.
I ran three simulations simultaneously, discarding two that carried unacceptable risk levels. The remaining path was tight, threading between enemy sensor arrays, but viable. My instinct was to explain the full plan, detail each contingency as I would at Marts and Sparks, but I held back. They needed decisive action, not technical explanations.
“Yes,” I answered simply, committing to the course.
Rob and Andri moved to the tactical station, their postures shifting subtly as they transitioned from students to commanders. Andri pulled up a holographic terrain map, his fingers easily manipulating the display to highlight approach vectors.
“Three entry points,” Andri said, highlighting each in sequence. “Main entrance is heavily guarded. Six hostiles minimum with automated defenses. Side entrance here,” he pointed to the eastern wall, “fewer guards but higher-grade security systems.”
Rob nodded, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “And the third?”
“Service tunnel, northwest quadrant. Limited intel, but thermal scans suggest minimal presence.”
“That’s our way in,” Rob decided after a moment’s analysis. “Kerry, you’re point on entry. Your infiltration scores were top of class.”
Kerry nodded sharply. “Copy that.”
“Kim,” Andri continued seamlessly, “we don’t have Sylvk so you’re our heavy. Once we breach, we’ll need suppression fire while Kerry advances to the security hub.” His tone was measured, authoritative without being domineering. “Rob and I will move in diamond formation with the point shifting based on resistance encountered.”
Rob expanded a section of the map. “Time is critical. Intel suggests the hostage is being moved in thirty minutes. We need to be in and secured before then.” He traced a path through the complex. “Primary extraction route here, with two fallbacks marked in blue.”
Andri’s eyes met Rob’s, a moment of silent communication passing between them. “Rules of engagement?” he asked.
“Nonlethal where possible,” Rob replied firmly. “But the hostage is priority one.”
Andri nodded once, respecting the decision though his slight hesitation suggested he might have preferred more aggressive tactics. “Agreed. We move fast, we move quiet, we stay coordinated.” He turned to me. “Piotr, we’ll need real-time thermal updates as we progress. Any shift in guard patterns could compromise our timing.”
“I’ll have continuous feeds running,” I confirmed. “And I’ll monitor comms for any indication they’ve spotted our approach.”
“Good,” Rob said, clasping Andri’s shoulder briefly. “Once we’re inside, standard tactical sign language only. No verbal unless absolutely necessary.”
There was an efficiency to their planning that was almost beautiful to witness, no wasted words, no ego-driven suggestions, just pure tactical thinking refined through years of training. Two leaders from different backgrounds finding immediate common ground in the mission parameters.
“Take us in, Piotr,” Rob ordered, his tone leaving no room for debate. “Be ready on guns, they’ll have defense lined up.”
“We’re ready,” came the chorus from Kerry and Kim.
I guided our ship through the planet’s turbulent upper atmosphere, the heat shields glowing orange as friction built. Every instinct screamed to take a wider approach, but the tactical overlay showed enemy patrols precisely where I’d have preferred to fly. The constraints chafed against my need for control.
“One minute to touchdown,” I reported, fighting the urge to adjust our vector again. The plan was set. My job now was execution, not improvisation.
“Final equipment check,” Andri commanded, his hands moving efficiently through his tactical gear. “Comms, weapons, medical, extraction tools.”
The team performed a synchronized check of their equipment, each verbally confirming readiness. It wasn’t just the words—it was the practiced economy of movement, the calm focus in their eyes. These weren’t students playing at being soldiers; they were professionals preparing for combat. I wish I was like that, calm, collected.
<
<
<
I didn’t know how to respond to that. It felt both right and impossibly heavy.
“If we get separated,” Rob added, securing his tactical vest, “rendezvous at point Bravo. If Bravo is compromised, fall back to Charlie and wait exactly ten minutes before proceeding to extraction.”
Andri nodded. “And if the hostage is injured?”
“Kerry takes lead on medical,” Rob replied immediately. “Kim covers. You and I secure the perimeter and clear the extraction path.”
“And if we encounter resistance beyond our capacity?” Andri pressed, testing Rob’s contingency planning.
“We adapt,” Rob answered without hesitation. “Use the environment, create diversion points here and here,” he indicated two locations on the map. “If necessary, I’ll draw fire to allow the rest of you to complete the objective.”
Andri’s eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded with what looked like newfound respect. “Let’s make sure that’s unnecessary, shall we?” It wasn’t just a sentiment—it was a commander acknowledging another commander’s willingness to sacrifice.
“Get in the air if you need to,” Rob instructed, checking his weapon. “And wait out.”
I wanted to protest, I could help on the ground, could spot things they might miss, but I bit back the words. This was the mission structure. This was my role. “I’ll have you on comms.”
“Good, we might need your eyes, keep watching,” Rob affirmed, acknowledging my value while reinforcing my position.
“Gun turrets alive,” Kim reported suddenly, targeting systems highlighting two automated defenses tracking our approach.
“Taking them out now,” Kerry responded immediately, not waiting for orders.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Our ship shuddered as missiles launched, destroying both turrets. The second explosion was dangerously close, the shockwave catching our port side. The ship lurched violently, alarms screaming across my console.
My training said to call for help, to let someone else take control, but there wasn’t time. I wrestled with the controls, compensating for the damaged stabilizers, forcing the ship into a controlled descent rather than the crash trajectory the computer predicted. This was what I was good at, seeing broken systems and making them work.
The ship touched down with a bone-jarring thud that was still smoother than the computer’s projected landing. Pride flashed through me, quickly replaced by focus as the team moved out.
“Change of plans,” Rob announced instantly, assessing the damage reports scrolling across my console. “Landing zone is too hot. Kerry, take point. Kim, watch our six.”
Andri was already adjusting, pulling up the new tactical overlay. “We’ve lost the element of surprise. Moving to contingency delta.” He turned to the others. “Two teams. Kerry with me, Kim with Rob. Parallel approach, converge at the detention level.”
There was no debate, no hesitation—just immediate adaptation to changing circumstances. The ease with which they pivoted from their original plan spoke volumes about their training and experience.
“Breach charges?” Kim asked, already checking her equipment.
“Affirmative,” Andri confirmed. “Standard stack formation at entry points. Rob, you call your team’s movements.”
Rob nodded tersely. “On your mark, Andri.”
The seamless transfer of authority between them, neither dominating, each respecting the other’s expertise, was a masterclass in field leadership.
The side door opened with a pneumatic hiss, the four of them moving in perfect formation toward the hostage location. I watched through their individual HUD feeds, monitoring their approach while simultaneously running ship diagnostics and tracking enemy movements.
My attention split four ways, then six as I added enemy movement patterns and ship repair priorities. This was nothing like the methodical work at Marts and Sparks—this was chaos requiring instant prioritization.
To Andri’s right, a soldier materialized from behind cover, weapon raised. Before I could shout a warning, Andri had already fired, dropping the threat. Their silent exchange of nods spoke volumes about their battlefield experience.
<
<
“Incoming enemy heat signatures,” I reported, forcing myself to be calm as I tracked multiple hostiles converging on their position. “They’re pooling on your location now. Pick up the pace.”
The team accelerated, but another obstacle appeared, a security door with an encrypted lock. Rob assessed it quickly before shaking his head.
“I failed this one,” he admitted to Andri, looking grim. “You?”
“Failed,” Andri confirmed, glancing at the women. They both shook their heads.
All four looked up into their cameras, their faces displaying identical uncertainty. The mission was about to fail because of a lock puzzle.
“Piotr?” Andri asked, surprising me with the direct appeal. “You got this, right?”
Time seemed to slow. I could guide them through it step by step, the safe approach. Or I could take control, using their HUD connection to access the system directly. The first approach was protocol. The second was faster but risked overstepping my role.
“Follow my instructions, and don’t deviate,” I decided, splitting the difference. “This isn’t like the one we did on the test.”
“How can you tell?” Rob asked.
“I can see the heat signature of the chemicals wrapped around the room and underneath the hostage,” I explained, my attention fully on the thermal readings now. The entire chamber was rigged to detonate if the wrong sequence was entered. No wonder they’d failed before—the simulation was designed to be lethal.
Rob swallowed visibly. “Talk us through it, slowly.”
“Take the front panel off and let me see it.”
Together they removed the cover, revealing the intricate wiring beneath. I instructed the women to take defensive positions as the enemy heat signatures drew closer. Time was running out, and I needed to focus entirely on the lock system.
<
The realization hit me simultaneously. This wasn’t just different—it was actively evolving, the encryption changing in response to our attempts to breach it. Protocol would fail here. I needed to take control.
“Put your wrist to the console, Rob,” I instructed, abandoning caution.
“What?” Confusion crossed his face.
“I don’t have time to run you through this,” I explained, moving from pilot mode to command mode without conscious thought. “I’m going to hack your system through our connection and then access the panel directly.”
“Impossible,” Andri scoffed, though I noticed his expression held more interest than dismissal.
Rob shook his head, understanding the implications. “You can’t access my system fast enough. I’m higher ranking and have several major firewalls.”
Frustration surged through me. I’d forgotten the military hierarchies built into their systems—a mechanic’s oversight that could cost us everything.
“Link me to Andri,” I pivoted, changing strategies instantly.
Andri hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the breach of protocol, but gunfire erupted behind him, forcing his hand. “You sure you’ve got this?” he questioned, flinching as a bullet struck nearby.
“Eyes forward,” I ordered, my voice carrying an authority I hadn’t known I possessed. “Trust me, I’ve got this.”
He nodded sharply, the camera bobbing once as he extended his wrist to the console. I didn’t waste time with explanations, diving through his connection into the security system. My mind worked at triple capacity—monitoring the team, rewiring the security protocols, and keeping watch on our ship.
Kim took a bullet, going down hard. Kerry was immediately at her side, medical training kicking in. “She’s bleeding out,” she reported, applying pressure to the wound.
“Hostage is free,” Andri announced moments later, supporting a young girl with visibly broken legs. “I’ll carry her.”
Kim looked up at Kerry, her face pale but resolved. “Leave me,” she ordered. “The mission objective is more important than me.”
“I can’t—we can’t,” Kerry protested, torn between duty and compassion.
“The mission objective is more important than me,” Kim repeated firmly. “Get her out of here. While I’ve got bullets, I’ll cover you.”
I watched the tactical overlay, calculating their chances. Kim was right, the mission parameters prioritized the hostage. But something in me rebelled against the cold calculus of acceptable losses.
Before I could interject, Andri was beside them, his eyes quickly assessing the tactical situation. With practiced efficiency, he checked Kim’s wound, gauging severity against mission parameters.
“Rob,” he called, his voice controlled despite the chaos. “Tactical assessment.”
Rob was already moving, taking up a defensive position while scanning their surroundings. “Hostiles approaching from two vectors. Estimated time to engagement, forty seconds. Extraction window closing rapidly.”
Andri nodded, processing this information instantly. “Kim,” he said, his tone professional but not cold, “can you move if supported?”
Kim shook her head. “Negative. Femoral damage. I’ll slow you down.”
Rob and Andri exchanged a look, a silent communication born of years of field experience. In that brief glance, I could see them weighing options, calculating risks, assessing the tactical reality against their commitment to leave no one behind.
“Standard protocol is clear,” Kim said, voice steady despite her pain. “Complete the mission.”
Andri’s jaw tightened momentarily before he nodded to Rob, who handed Kerry his extra ammunition. “Hold as long as you can,” Rob instructed Kim. There was respect in his voice—not just for her sacrifice, but for her professionalism in making the hard call.
He pulled Kerry to her feet. “Move now. We need you back on the ship to treat that kid’s wounds.”
Kerry’s medical scan appeared in my HUD as she assessed the girl. “She’s not going to last long either.”
“Then move. Now!” Kim ordered, positioning herself to provide covering fire.
The decision had been made without me. Part of me bristled at being excluded from the choice, but another part recognized the efficiency of their battlefield hierarchy. Not every decision needed to flow through me.
The team’s retreat was a controlled chaos of gunfire and tactical movements. I kept the ship’s systems primed, monitoring their approach while calculating the optimal extraction trajectory. When they finally reached the ship, collapsing through the door as it sealed behind them, I felt a surge of relief followed immediately by determination.
“Get us the hell out of here,” Andri ordered, shifting the hostage to Kerry’s care while he and Rob moved to the gun stations.
I didn’t need to be told twice. The engines roared to life under my command, the ship lifting despite the damage to its port stabilizers. “Incoming ships,” I reported, tracking multiple enemy signatures converging on our position. “They will open fire.”
“On it,” Rob responded confidently.
Between Rob and Andri, they methodically eliminated the pursuing ships, working in perfect coordination. I focused entirely on our escape vector, pushing the damaged systems to their limits while finding ways to compensate for the compromised stabilizers.
“Nice work,” I said as the last enemy ship disappeared from my screens.
The simulation ended with a soft chime, the virtual world dissolving around us. Success. But the pod didn’t open.
“Doli?” I asked.
Andri’s face appeared before me. “I needed to see you all in action myself,” Andri spoke clearly.
“Oh,” I replied. Confused. I couldn’t work him out. He was a dick, he wasn’t. Then he was again. “What’s up?”
“They’re not who they say they are, the only one that is, is you.”
I didn’t deny it, or confirm it.
“I need to know why,” he said. His brows furrowed. “Who planted them.”
I was about to answer, but the pod shocked me, like physically shocked me. <
“Go see Sylvk.” Andri then said. “I’ll comm you later today with some coordinates, if you would indulge me.”
Then he was gone and the pod opened.
Not one of us said a word as Sergeant Major Cotah and Professor Zhan gathered everyone up for feedback. Their evaluations were a mix of praise and critique.
“Good initiative,” Professor Zhan said, directing the comment at Andri. “You stepped up when it mattered. But remember, leadership isn’t just about making the right call. It’s about trust. If your team doesn’t feel included, they might not follow when it really counts.”
Andri nodded. “Thank you, and despite our differences,” he glanced at us all. “They’re as professional as they come. I’d be honored to work with them at any time.”
“As would we,” Rob replied.
Walking out of that test… I sucked in a breath.
“I have no idea what the hell that was,” I said.
“Me neither. But you saved our asses today,” Rob said with a wry smile. “No doubt about it.”
“Agreed,” Kerry said.
“Hospital?”
“Hospital,” Rob replied.
“Can we talk there?”
“Yes,” Kerry smiled. “I’ll make sure we’re secure.”
She linked both our arms, and together, we walked away.
<
I didn’t look back, but I answered. <>