Chapter 18 – Silver Wave Aurazu

  The command deck of the Verdalian Dawn pulsed with activity. Lights blinked in rhythmic succession, monitors scanned continuously, and crew members stood alert at every station. Outside, the endless stretch of space shimmered, framing the dry, sun-scorched orb of Vokar-17 below—capital planet of the Lilliput Star System, now choking in crisis.

  Jason stood tall at the center of it all, eyes fixed on the descending view of the planet. His voice cut through the room, calm and commanding.

  “Order to all ships,” he declared, his voice relayed instantly across the bridge communications. “Change formation and align on vector two-one-nine. We’re descending together, coordinated. No ship lands alone.”

  One by one, the twenty-nine Verdalian ships adjusted their angle and began their slow, purposeful glide downward, their underbellies aglow with atmospheric friction. From the bridge window, Vokar-17 no longer seemed like a dry map. Its cracked continents were visible now—rivers long dried, cities bathed in yellowish dust, and armies moving like ants across war-torn frontlines.

  Jason turned to the senior officers standing beside him—Captain Shin, Louis, Phill, Sarae, and the rest. “We’re going to land outside the capital territory—thirty kilometers from the palace walls. That zone’s showing the lowest combat density on our probes. Minimal troop activity. We'll make it our base.”

  Captain Shin narrowed his eyes. “What about the civilians fighting nearby? It’s a warzone out there.”

  Jason nodded. “Exactly why we can’t land inside it. If we drop into the heart of the conflict, we’re seen as invaders or worse—foreign backers. We don’t want to be mistaken for a new empire trying to seize control.”

  Louis adjusted the holographic map above the war table, highlighting the capital country’s layout. “This spot here,” he pointed, “is largely abandoned farmland. Used to be rice terraces a century ago, before the irrigation systems failed. There's room for all our ships to land and deploy.”

  “Do we still have comms blackout with the palace?” Jason asked.

  “Still no response,” replied Sarae. “Probes haven’t detected any broadcasts either. Either they’re jamming everything—or the entire royal government has collapsed.”

  Phill muttered, “Could be a coup. Could be worse.”

  Jason took a breath. “We aren’t going to speculate. We’re going to move. Our goal hasn’t changed—stabilize this system by delivering food, restoring order where we can, and protecting the innocent. If the people see us as peacebringers, we’ll earn trust. If not… then we’ll adapt.”

  The floor shuddered faintly as the ship pierced deeper into the upper atmosphere. Orange plasma streaked across the windows for a few seconds, painting the room in a fiery glow. Soon, the visual cleared—revealing a world ravaged by sun and desperation.

  “I want every ship captain to prepare for full defensive perimeter upon landing,” Jason continued. “No heavy artillery unless provoked. Drones will monitor nearby civilian and military activity. Once we set up ground command, I’ll personally lead the contact delegation toward the capital.”

  Jigo stepped forward. “Sir, I recommend we maintain a rotating patrol flight in low orbit. If there’s an aerial threat—stealth or otherwise—we need eyes in the sky.”

  “Approved,” Jason said without hesitation. “Split ships into three categories—ground landers, support cruisers, and orbital patrols. Use the slowest class as supply depots. Let’s not get caught unloading when the skies burn.”

  Sarae looked up from her comms. “Fleet formation is responding. Estimated time to land: sixteen minutes.”

  Jason took one final look at the world they were entering.

  Vokar-17—the throne planet of the Lilliput Star System. Once fertile. Now fractured. From above, it looked like a dying dream: bones of roads winding through cracked earth, factories rusting in silence, towers rising over cities no longer alive.

  Somewhere within it was a king no one had seen.

  Somewhere within it, millions were starving.

  And somewhere, something was watching—destroying probes, hiding from scanners, waiting in the heat haze of the dry winds.

  Jason turned and gave the final order.

  “Take us down.”

  The ships dipped together, like a curtain of falling silver blades slicing through the dead skies of a forgotten empire

  The sky above Vokar-17 stretched out like a cracked shell, the sun barely piercing through the endless layers of dust and smog. The 29 Verdalian fleet ships cruised in a diamond-shaped formation, steadily descending from the outer orbit toward the capital country of the Lilliput star system. Jason stood in the lead ship’s control deck, his eyes fixed on the holographic display.

  “Maintain stealth barrier,” Captain Shin instructed. “Approaching the planned coordinates in 11 minutes.”

  Jigo monitored the sensors. “Ground temperature is 67 degrees Celsius. Air quality is extremely poor—unbreathable without filtration suits.”

  Phill scanned the lower altitudes. “No signs of organized resistance in the lower 50 kilometers. Civilians are scattering. Probably scared by our entry.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Jason nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. “Good. Our plan is simple—land safely away from civilian unrest, stay out of political firelines, and assess the crisis firsthand. We’re here to deliver food, not wage war.”

  But fate had different plans.

  At 8 minutes into descent, just as the fleet began to break past the third atmospheric layer, a sudden disruption hit the sensors.

  “Sir!” cried out a young officer. “Unidentified airborne contacts—fast, metallic, and untagged. They’re emerging from cloud cover, heading straight for us.”

  The clouds above split open like a wound, and a swarm of black, needle-shaped objects zipped through the sky with terrifying precision. The ships’ sensors struggled to lock onto them.

  “Incoming projectiles!” yelled Captain Shin.

  Laser beams sliced through the clouds, arcing like whips of light, targeting the leading section of the formation. Explosions sparked in mid-air—two Verdalian ships took damage to their side hulls, forcing emergency evasive maneuvers.

  “They’re not missiles—they’re machines,” Phill muttered, zooming into the visual feed.

  The monitors revealed dozens of airborne automatons—sleek, humanoid in form but entirely robotic, with glowing red eyes and jet-stream propulsion from their backs. Each carried dual plasma blades attached to their arms and a rapid-fire cannon embedded in their chests.

  Jigo’s face tightened. “Androids… advanced, high-altitude combat units. Not native to Vokar-17.”

  “Definitely not,” Jason said grimly. “Those are Tqniyaq models—Series T-Δ2. Only the scientific kingdom of Tqniyaq manufactures those. And they’re in an alliance with the Vir Empire…”

  A horrible realization swept over the command deck.

  “They were waiting for us,” Jason muttered.

  More laser fire zipped past the ships. One of the rear ships suffered a tail-engine hit and lost balance, spiraling into a forced emergency descent. Fortunately, its pilot managed to stabilize and drift toward the backup landing zone.

  “Redirect formation!” Captain Shin ordered. “Widen distance between ships by 5 kilometers and drop altitude by 600 meters!”

  Jason slammed his fist against the railing. “We’re too tight in formation. If we cluster up, we’ll be wiped out. Relocate now—40 kilometers east of the original LZ.”

  All across the skies of Vokar-17, Verdalian ships shifted course, their energy shields flaring as they dodged fire and swerved through narrow attack vectors. The cloudbanks became a battlefield.

  Jason watched the bots change trajectory, locking in on his lead ship. Dozens of them surged toward him like a swarm of metal insects.

  He made a decision.

  “I’m going out.”

  “What?” Shin turned. “Jason, you can’t—”

  “I have to draw them away. If they focus on me, the others can reposition and land. I’ll join you from the ground.”

  He didn’t wait for a response. With swift precision, he activated his energy armor, pressed the emergency release on the side hatch, and leapt out into open sky.

  The air ripped around him as he free-fell, his body surrounded by a sheath of radiant energy—Verdalian Spectra Armor, specially designed for high-altitude operations.

  The bots detected him instantly. Their formation diverted, targeting him like heat-seeking predators.

  Jason smiled grimly. “Come on, then.”

  He took his sword and began weaving through the sky in a spiral of white and golden light, slashing through the androids mid-air, buying precious seconds for his fleet to escape the fire zone. Below him, the other 29 ships broke through the final atmospheric layer, vanishing into the dense dust clouds as they redirected to the new landing site.

  Within moments, the sky was a scattered canvas of fire, smoke trails, and falling bots. And at the center of it all, Jason—defiant, unwavering—guided the storm away from his people

  Jason stood at the edge of the lead Verdalian ship’s under-hatch, no armor, only his commander’s coat flapping violently in the high-altitude winds. The chaos above Vokar-17 had fractured their landing formation. Androids from the Tqniyaq kingdom, gleaming with polished black alloys and humming with energy cores, swarmed like hornets across the mid-sky.

  “Commander, we can’t hold them back much longer!” cried Captain Shin. “Our formation’s broken, six ships are off-course. We have no clear landing path!”

  Jason clenched his teeth, eyes scanning the storm of bots heading their way. The fleet couldn’t descend together now—not under this pressure.

  “Everyone split formation!” he barked into the main comm channel. “All ships divert and find safe ground—forty kilometers minimum apart if you must! We regroup on ground once clear!”

  Before anyone could object, he turned to the open sky and leapt.

  No shield, no suit, no backup, but with a katana.

  Only Fantom Arts: Silver Wave Aurazu.

  His body plummeted with deadly precision, a spear of silver heat. As Jason fell, his aura shimmered—light cracking around him like glass. Then, with a flick of his wrist, silver rings burst from his body, slicing through the air like crescent blades. The bots caught in his descent path were annihilated mid-flight, their frames exploding in bursts of white fire.

  His leap wasn’t just an attack—it was a decoy. All the bots veered after him, lured by his exposed position and signature power level.

  That’s when the rest of the Verdalian fleet broke away.

  The fleet scattered across the high atmosphere, breaking from their clustered formation. Their sleek hulls shimmered through the brown clouds, diving in different directions. The separation was chaotic but necessary.

  “We’ve lost track of the lead ship,” shouted an officer aboard Ship-7.

  “Commander Jason’s signal is vanishing!” Phill yelled from Ship-2. “We need to land, now!”

  The android swarm continued to chase after Jason, drawing attention away. But mid-descent turbulence and atmospheric interference caused misalignments—ships went off-course, forced to land in vastly different zones across the eastern and southern quadrants of Vokar-17’s capital country.

  Some landed in dried riverbeds, others near abandoned urban zones. A few hit hard ground and lost external systems, reducing contact ability.

  None of them landed together.

  Jason finally pierced through the last layer of clouds, now falling freely through an eerie silence. The heat and wind had vanished—replaced by the heavy, pressing atmosphere of Vokar-17’s surface.

  His body struck the cracked earth in a blast of silver light, forming a crater nearly twenty feet wide.

  Dirt and rock rained around him. His knees buckled slightly as he stood, panting, silver glow fading slowly.

  But around him—nothing.

  No ships. No crew. No allies.

  Only dead trees, burned land, and absolute silence.

  “Captain Shin?” he called out over the communicator. Static. “Jigo? Phill?”

  More static. No signals as jason’s transponders got damaged .

  Jason looked to the horizon. A faint trail of smoke rose miles away. Possibly a crash site—or worse.

  He was alone.

  And something in the air felt… wrong. A vibration in the dust. A hum in the earth.

  “I’m not the only one down here,” he whispered.

  Ship-4 and Ship-8 had landed near each other, surrounded by what looked like the remains of an abandoned mining settlement. Phill and Jigo emerged from their respective hatches, looking around.

  “No sign of Commander Jason,” said Jigo, worry etched into his face.

  “He drew all those bots away,” Phill muttered. “Bought us time. But now…”

  Their words were cut short by the rumble of distant gunfire.

  Turning north, they spotted rising smoke columns—battlefields. But not between androids or armies.

  This was something far more tragic.

  Civilians—starved, angry—were battling the Eyrvaks, the massive red-skinned, one-eyed soldiers of Vokar-17’s royal army. The two sides clashed in broken cities, the rebels hurling stones, makeshift explosives, and even burning their own food reserves in protest.

  “This place…” Jigo whispered. “It’s in full revolt.”

  And their commander? Gone

  Jason’s Silver Wave Aurazu has been revealed. The Verdalian fleet has landed. And the shadow of the Tqniyaq looms ever closer. What secrets are buried beneath the ruins of Vokar-17?

  Next week, I’ll be dropping six chapters back-to-back. This short break is purely to improve pacing, structure, and foreshadowing as the stakes rise. I promise—it’ll be worth the wait.