I didn’t get much sleep at all, everything that had happened kept me tossing and turning.
I thought about what to do, to say. In the end, I just sent her a message.
Me – Please talk to me, don’t push me away. I don’t understand what’s going on, I need to understand.
Ashley - I’ll see you at the debrief in the morning.
Me – How do you expect me to be in any fit state to go out there tomorrow and pretend nothing is happening?
Ashley – Trust me, please.
Trust her? She just blew up in my face, why should I. She’s never told me the truth, from the start, all of this was something I shouldn’t be involved with, it was way over my head.
I—checked the time, shoved the covers back and forced myself out of bed. It was time to face whatever was coming already. The night was over.
The air in the hangar was not fun, a mix of anticipation and nerves buzzed through the team as we gathered.
“Are you okay?” Kerry asked.
I shook my head, just as Major Kuba stepped into the room. She didn’t even look at me, stomped to the front and turned to face us. Her posture was as sharp as ever, her gaze sweeping over us like a laser, but I saw beneath it, the dark circles she had tried to hide with make-up she wasn’t used to wearing. The way her hair hadn’t quite been tied back as neat. Behind her, a holographic display showed a detailed map of the station’s surrounding orbital field and the debris fields they mined locally.
“We can’t hide from this,” she said, steady and commanding. “Alpha271 went out earlier to rescue a science team. You are following them in thirty minutes. Your mission is to bring back critical data from that vessel.”
“So there were casualties?” Kerry asked.
Major Kuba nodded. “Yes,” she checked her HUD. “Alpha271 are inbound with them right now.”
She pointed back to the screen. “Obviously, some of this is simulated and some of it is not. You’ll be in a real SAR, and you will still have to negotiate a real debris field.”
“No pressure,” Rob muttered under his breath, his usual smirk replaced by a tightness around his eyes.
Major Kuba ignored him, tapping the display to highlight the mission parameters. “The vessel is adrift in a high-risk orbital sector, surrounded by debris and exposed to solar radiation spikes. Time is limited, and the stakes are real.”
“Real debris, real radiation, real danger,” Kerry mumbled.
“Exactly,” Kuba replied. “This isn’t just a simulation. If something goes wrong, you’ll have to improvise and rely on each other. Any questions?”
“Will there be anyone left onboard?” I asked.
“Alpha271 has reported they have all crew aboard.”
Kerry groaned. “Full scores for them there then.”
“However,” Kuba carried on. “We’ve received intelligence that another faction out here wants that data. You need to get in and get out. Before they arrive.”
“This isn’t any kind of normal mission, we all know it,” I said, my voice steady despite the knot in my gut. “So what’s this? Why put us at risk.”
“If you don’t go out there, and we just go home. You don’t score. Andri’s team and yours will not pass the term. As much as I hate you doing this, you need to go out there. This needs to be recorded, passed, properly.”
“So that Andri’s family saves face?” I asked. “Even if we’re at risk?”
“They won’t beat you,” Kuba said, adamant. “Each and every single one of you will bring your best. Piotr, you’ll lead the mission.” She then brought up an image of the ship. “She’s an SAR E118 and she has shields and weapons.”
Rob blinked, a flicker of genuine anxiety crossing his face. “You’re trusting me with an E118?”
“Because you need her, it took some strings.” Kuba gave him a pointed look. “Try not to crash it, she’s expensive.”
<
<
A ripple of laughter broke the tension, but it was brief.
“Now go, give her the once over before you leave, nothing overlooked. Understood?”
We all nodded. “Yes, Major.”
The minutes leading up to the mission were a blur of activity. Attached to a docking clamp, the E118 gleamed under the bright lights from the station. Every system double-checked and triple checked. I stood at the open hatch, inspecting the supplies and gear one last time.
“You look like you’re trying to memorize every bolt,” Kerry said as she approached, her helmet tucked under her arm.
“Can’t be too careful,” I replied, unable to shake the stone sitting in my stomach.
She gave me a faint smile. “We’ve got this. You’re a good leader, even if you second-guess yourself too much.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying I overthink things?”
“Absolutely,” she said, patting my shoulder before heading inside.
Sylvk was at the E118’s main computer system, running a diagnostic on the engines and thrusters. He glanced up as I approached.
“All are clear,” he reported. “No sign of tampering, last check was through the night by two different maintenance teams.”
“Good,” I said. “Keep an eye out anyway.”
Sylvk nodded, his expression grim. “I’ll keep the systems tight.”
Inside the E118, Rob was fiddling with the navigation console, muttering under his breath. His usual jokes were notably absent.
“Everything alright?” I asked, stepping in.
“Just making sure this thing doesn’t decide to take us into the sun,” he said, not looking up from the console. “Kuba put me in charge of the ship, remember? No pressure.” His laugh sounded hollow.
I squeezed his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Rob. Just don’t touch the big red button.”
He managed a weak grin. “Noted.”
“Here we go,” Kerry said from the navigation console. Her shoulders were tense, but her hands were fast.
“Let’s make it count,” I replied, gripping the controls as the station docking clamps let us go. Internally, my stomach twisted. One wrong decision could cost our lives. But outwardly, I forced my voice steady, calm—because that’s what the team needed.
The E118 purred loudly as it left the station, the vibrations subtle but present underfoot. Outside the windows, the vast expanse of space stretched endlessly, punctuated by the occasional glint of debris or distant stars. Inside the cabin, the mood was a mix of tension and determination.
Kerry deftly adjusting the E118’s trajectory. “Orbital path is clear so far,” she said. “No major debris for at least ten clicks.”
“Good,” I glanced at her screen. “Let’s keep it that way.”
I waited, counting silently. One second. Two seconds. Three.
<
The warning sent a chill down my spine, not just the content, but the delay. Out here, even seconds mattered.
<
In the rear compartment Sylvk secured the tools and equipment we needed for potential external repairs. “All gear is stowed and secured. At least we’ll have the tools to fix her.”
“Reassuring,” Rob said, his fingers dancing nervously over the E118’s internal systems monitor. “And if we get hit by space debris, do we also have a giant broom?” His attempt at humor couldn’t quite mask his anxiety.
“Focus,” I said, offering a reassuring nod. “You’re the one making sure we don’t get hit in the first place.”
Kerry warned. “We’re approaching the debris field. Time to get serious.”
The tone shifted as we all turned our attention back to our stations. The first pieces of debris appeared on the scanners, their irregular orbits turning red on the screen.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“Alright, team,” I said, despite the churning in my gut. “This is what we’ve trained for. Let’s keep it tight, stay sharp, and watch each other’s backs.”
Sylvk nodded. “You lead, we follow.”
Rob gave a thumbs-up from his console, though his knuckles were white on the controls. “Ready when you are, Captain.”
Kerry smiled faintly, her hands steady on the controls. “Let’s do this.”
As the E118 entered the debris field, the tension in the cabin thickened, the first chunks of debris floated past the E118, their jagged edges glinting faintly.
“Alright,” Kerry said from the navigation console. “We’re entering the main debris field. It’s denser than the simulations.”
I leaned over her shoulder, studying the scanner. She wasn’t exaggerating. The field ahead was a swirling maze of giant rock—shattered satellite panels, broken spacecraft hulls, and fragments of who-knew-what tumbling in unpredictable orbits.
“Rob, keep it slow and steady,” I said. “Kerry, plot the safest path through.”
“Already on it,” she replied.
“Thrusters at minimum,” Rob confirmed. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cabin’s cooling system.
“External systems holding steady.” Sylvk reported. “No signs of any impacts yet.”
“Yet,” Rob muttered from his station, his eyes never leaving the readouts.
“Keep monitoring those shields,” I said. “We can’t afford a breach out here.” My heart pounded in my chest, each piece of debris that drifted past feeling like a bullet we’d narrowly dodged.
<
The silence stretched, far longer than it should have. Five seconds. Ten.
The E118 rattled violently as a fragment scraped the hull with a sickening metallic shriek. My hands clenched involuntarily on the armrests, adrenaline surging through me.
“Close one,” Rob said, as he pointed to a particularly large piece of wreckage spinning dangerously close.
“Shield integrity holding, but that was too close.” Sylvk reported. “You need to be more careful.”
Kerry’s jaw tightened as she adjusted the course. “Working on it. This field is a nightmare.”
<<...scanning patterns, Captain. The distribution seems... unusual.>> Doli’s voice finally came through, fragmented and distorted. <
Her analysis was nearly twenty seconds late, practically an eternity in a situation where split-second decisions were the difference between survival and obliteration. By the time her warning reached me, we’d already navigated past the section she was analyzing.
The E118 shuddered as Rob adjusted the trajectory again, narrowly dodging a massive, twisted beam that drifted across our path. The groaning sound of stressed metal filled the cabin once again.
“Everybody stay calm,” I told them. “We’ve trained for this remember, every simulation we’ve ran, we can do this.”
We approached the densest part of the debris field. The scanner showing only a few gaps large enough for the E118 to navigate.
“Rob, how’s that shield looking?” I asked.
“Straining, but holding,” he replied. “We’re close to the upper limit, though. A direct hit from anything big, and it’s going to buckle.”
“Noted,” I said. “Kerry, how are we looking on the path?”
“Not great,” she said, her fingers digging into the edge of her console. “There’s a cluster of debris blocking the optimal route. We’ll have to detour around it, but it’s tight.”
“Rob, adjust course as needed,” I said, smacking my suddenly dry lips together.
“Understood,” Rob replied, wiping sweat from his brow.
I waited for Doli’s input, but the silence stretched. Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. I couldn’t wait for her analysis—not with debris closing in from all sides.
“Kerry, show me the scanner,” I said, moving to her station. I studied the patterns, looking for the gaps, for the rhythm in the chaos. There was something off about the distribution, just as Doli had started to warn me.
“There,” I pointed to a narrow corridor between two massive chunks of wreckage. “It’s tight, but cleaner than the route around.”
Kerry’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? That’s threading a needle.”
“I’m sure,” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. Without Doli’s real-time analysis, I was flying blind, relying on instinct and training.
As the E118 maneuvered through the tight gaps, I sat back down, the view outside became a blur of tumbling wreckage. Another loud clang reverberated through the hull, making everyone flinch.
“Report!” I said, heart hammering against my ribs.
“Minor impact on the starboard side,” Sylvk said, checking his console. “No breach, but the shields are taking a battering.”
Rob swore under his breath, typing furiously on his controls. “Sixty percent. We can’t take many more of those.”
<
<
I clenched my jaw, watching the scanner as another massive piece of debris drifted into our path.
“Rob, rotate forty degrees starboard and cut thrust for two seconds,” I said.
The E118 lurched violently as Rob followed my orders, the debris narrowly missing us by what felt like inches.
“Good call,” Kerry said, exhaling shakily.
“Let’s keep it up,” I said. “We’re almost through.” I silently prayed I was right.
After what felt like an eternity, the scanner began to show a thinning of the debris ahead. The gaps grew wider, and the E118’s movements became smoother.
“Field’s clearing,” Kerry said, relief evident as she sighed.
“Shields at forty percent,” Rob said, finally allowing himself to lean back slightly. “We’re still in one piece.”
“For now,” Sylvk muttered, still scanning external readouts with wary eyes.
“Stay focused,” I said, glancing at the scanner one last time. “We’re not safe yet.”
The E118 finally broke free of the debris field, the vast expanse of open space stretching out before us. In the distance, the target vessel loomed, its dark silhouette stark against the stars.
“Target in sight,” Kerry said, some of the tension easing from her shoulders.
<
<
<>
“Good work, everyone,” I said aloud, letting out a sharp breath. “Let’s prep for docking.”
The E118 coasted toward the target vessel, its dark, jagged silhouette growing larger against the backdrop of distant stars.
“Approaching docking point,” Kerry said. “Aligning trajectory now.”
“Rob, keep monitoring those shields,” I said. “Sylvk, be ready for external repairs if the docking system doesn’t cooperate.”
“Got it,” Sylvk said, already prepping his gear.
“Doli,” I whispered into my comms, “run a scan of the vessel. I want to know what we’re walking into.”
The silence stretched again. One second. Five. Ten.
<
Rob adjusted the E118s position, a moment later our docking clamps extended toward the airlock. A soft clunk reverberated through the cabin as the clamps locked into place.
<
The warning sent ice through my veins, both from the content and the continued delay. “Everyone on high alert. There might be something wrong with the docking system.”
“Docking successful,” Kerry announced. “Pressurizing the airlock now.”
“Nice and easy,” I muttered, watching the readouts, unable to shake the sense of foreboding Doli’s warning had triggered.
A sharp alarm blared overhead, the screens flashing red as error codes flooded the interface.
“What the hell?” Rob shouted, scrambling to analyze the data. “Docking systems failed!”
“Failed how?” I asked, already checking my own console, heart racing.
“Pressure seals disengaged, maybe damaged by a stray asteroid.” Sylvk reported from the rear compartment, all trace of calm gone. “We’re not locked anymore!”
With a sickening metallic snap, the docking clamps retracted on their own, and the E118 drifted away. The momentum carried us directly toward a jagged section of the ships hull—sharp enough to tear through our E118 like foil.
“Rob, stabilize us!” I ordered, fighting the rising panic.
“I’m trying!” Rob said. “Controls aren’t responding!”
<
The E118 lurched again, tilting dangerously close to a jagged piece of the target vessel’s hull. Kerry’s hands flew over her console, desperately trying to redirect our course.
“We’re going to hit,” Kerry said. “Brace for impact!”
I didn’t wait for Doli’s analysis—couldn’t wait. “Rob, redirect power to thrusters manually!” I barked.
“Already on it!” Rob said, his face pale with fear.
The E118 shuddered, the engines roaring to life in time to push us clear of the vessel’s hull. The alarm finally silenced, but the cabin was still bathed in the red glow of emergency lights, we weren’t out of danger yet.
<
“Sylvk, get your gear. You’re going to have to reconnect the docking clamps manually from the outside.”
Sylvk did as I asked, eyes grim.
<<—the E118’s docking systems is compromised. I recommend—>>
I bit back a frustrated response. Her analysis was solid, but I’d already made the decision on my own.
Sylvk floated out of our airlock, tethered to the E118 by a reinforced cable. “I’m at the clamps,” he reported. “They’re damaged, but it looks an easy fix.”
“You’re sure?” I asked, trying to keep my hands from shaking.
“Yeah, but it’s going to take a minute,” he said.
I sat watching the area he was in as he worked. That minute was ticking past and it wasn’t fixed. I could have done it faster, but I was here, and my job was to guide all of them.
“Sylvk, Status?”
“Clamp’s compromised,” he replied. “I need two more minutes.”
<
Silence. One second. Two. Three. Four.
<
<<— got company.>> Doli finally responded, her voice cutting in with an unmistakable delay.
<
Another lag. This time longer, almost seven seconds.
<
The E118s sensors finally picked up a faint blip approaching from the far side of the debris field. My blood ran cold.
“Make if fast, Sylvk,” I said to him furiously flicking from him to the scanners. “There’s another ship inbound.”
A small ship flashed up, its trajectory heading straight for us.
“What?!” Kerry said, panicked.
“Identify that vessel, Kerry,” I ordered, fighting to stay calm.
She tapped furiously at her console. “Unregistered, no transponder signal.”
“Piotr,” Sylvk called through the comms, his breathing quickening, “I need more time. If they’re coming for us, keep them off me.”
I tried reaching Doli again. <
The silence stretched. Five seconds. Eight.
“Power up the ship’s weapons systems,” I ordered. “Give Sylvk cover.”
“Weapons aren’t responding!” Rob shouted frantically, fingers flying across the console. “They’re all offline—I—I don’t get it!”
<
The unregistered ship appeared on the viewscreen, a sleek, predatory craft bristling with weapons. It didn’t waste time, firing a warning shot that streaked past our E118, missing by meters. The blast illuminated the cockpit with harsh, blue light. It also only just missed the derelict ship.
“Hostile confirmed!” Kerry shouted, panic rising. “Those are live rounds!”
Twelve seconds passed. Fifteen. The hostile ship was lining up another shot.
<
<
“You have weapons. Engage!” I ordered.
The E118’s forward cannons lit up, sending a barrage of plasma rounds toward the approaching vessel. It dodged with unnerving agility, returning fire that rocked the E118 violently. The impact threw me against my restraints, knocking the breath from my lungs.
“Shields at twenty percent!” Rob reported, his face ashen. “One more direct hit and we’re toast!”
“Hold them off!” I said, gripping the console until my knuckles turned white. “Sylvk, status?”
“Almost there!” he shouted, tension breaking through his usual calm. “Thirty seconds!”
The E118 shook again as another round of fire slammed into the shields. Sparks flew from one of the consoles, and the cabin filled with the acrid smell of burning circuits. Kerry’s hands trembled on the weapons controls.
“They’re coming around for another pass!” she yelled. “I can’t get a lock!”
<
The mounting dread of waiting for her response was almost worse than the approaching enemy.
<
<
<
I watched the enemy ship closing in. Seconds stretched into eternity as I waited for Doli’s intervention, acutely aware that her delay could mean our deaths. Five seconds. Eight.
<