1SGT Helsing

  October 31, 2025

  07:46 CST

  Death Reckoning Med Bay

  35,000 feet above West Virgina

  Standing quietly at the far end of the medbay, I leaned against the bulkhead, arms folded tight across my chest. The steady beep of medical monitors punctuated the sterile silence, each rhythmic note echoing like a grim reminder of decisions made long ago—choices I still couldn't shake.

  Alpha Team—my team now—sat silently in their chairs, IV lines tethered to their veins, quietly replenishing the blood their bodies burned through far faster than normal. Raven, Ray, Charles, Logan, and Case. All volunteers. Brave kids who signed up willingly, believing in the promise of something better—stronger, faster, sharper. But they'd never truly understood the cost until it was too late.

  Hell, none of us did.

  I felt a pang of guilt deep in my gut, tightening my jaw. These weren't just soldiers to me—not anymore. Every time I looked at them, I saw faces from my past. My old Special Forces team, men and women I'd led, trusted, and eventually lost aboard this very ship during our disastrous encounter with the SAF Autumn. I'd promised myself after that day I'd never again let my people become pawns in someone else's deadly game.

  And yet here I was again, watching another team—my team—caught in a dangerous web woven by people who cared nothing for their humanity.

  The irony wasn't lost on me: the very supernaturals we'd once hunted, that my family had hunted for generations, had now become part of who these soldiers were. Bram Stoker’s famous stories made my ancestors legendary hunters, heroes who stood against darkness. Now, the darkness ran through my soldiers’ veins. Soldiers I’d sworn to protect, soldiers I’d quietly come to see as something far closer to family than subordinates.

  The medbay doors hissed softly open, breaking my train of thought. Dr. Price stepped away from the beds momentarily to retrieve another batch of plasma. Raven caught my gaze and broke the tense silence with a carefully neutral voice. “You going to tell us what’s on your mind, Sarge?”

  I hesitated briefly, then exhaled softly. "I'm trying to figure out how to keep you all safe—and how to make this competition work in our favor."

  Ray chuckled quietly, adjusting his IV line. “You really think they bought our cover story about this being just about intel on Team SAF?”

  I shook my head slowly, exhaling through my nose. "The brass sees what they want to see. Captain Edwards made sure of that." My voice dropped, bitterness seeping in despite my efforts. "They don't know you like I do. They see enhanced soldiers. I see people I promised to protect."

  Raven’s expression softened. She understood—she always did, quicker than the others. "We're in this together, Sarge."

  "Yeah," I confirmed quietly, nodding once. "We are."

  The room fell quiet again, but it was comfortable this time. The kind of silence you get with people you trust deeply. After a few moments, I uncrossed my arms and addressed the group. "Alright, let’s talk competition strategy. I’m not a skyboarding expert. So you two," I gestured to Raven and Ray, "tell me exactly what we’re up against."

  Ray spoke first, leaning back slightly, his demeanor instantly professional. "It's simple. We need an identity, something memorable that sets us apart."

  Raven nodded. "Exactly. Every major team has a signature theme or style—something the audience immediately recognizes and remembers."

  "Give me some examples," I prompted.

  Ray leaned forward slightly, thinking carefully. "Team SAF is the obvious one. Military precision, perfect discipline in every maneuver. But they always keep an unpredictable, rogue element in their routines. People admire them because they're precise, but love them because they're dangerous. Uncontrollable."

  Raven picked up from there, her voice steady and clear. "And then there’s Team Balfour. They use dark, animalistic themes—werewolf-inspired choreography, clean visuals, sharp and aggressive. They’re popular because they're not afraid to play into the animalistic theme."

  I considered her words carefully, the concept clicking into place instantly. "So you're saying we need our own signature. Something precise, something that capitalizes on what you already are."

  Raven and Ray exchanged a subtle glance before Raven spoke again, cautious. "Are you suggesting we openly embrace our... unique qualities?"

  I nodded, unflinching. "Exactly."

  Logan raised an eyebrow. "Our 'unique qualities' being?"

  "You already know," I said evenly. "You're not just soldiers… airmen. You're not ordinary athletes. You're vampiric hybrids. Faster reflexes, heightened senses, predatory agility. Don't hide it. Use it."

  Ray raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You want us to embrace a vampiric theme openly?"

  I gave a sharp nod. "Precisely. Dark aesthetics, precision maneuvers, aggressive but graceful movements—think sleek, dangerous. Like Team Balfour's werewolf style, but distinctively ours. Gothic, intimidating, unforgettable."

  Charles cracked a slight smile, clearly liking the idea. Logan smirked, eyes lighting with genuine enthusiasm. Case appeared intrigued but cautious, though I saw acceptance in his posture.

  Raven studied my face carefully before responding. "You really think they'll buy it? A vampire-themed military team?"

  "They already have," I replied evenly. "They just don't know it yet."

  Ray chuckled darkly, the humor not quite reaching his eyes. "Then let's give 'em one hell of a show."

  I exhaled softly, feeling a strange, maternal sort of pride rising in my chest. I'd lost my previous team—my family—to an agenda I couldn't see until it was too late. But this time? I'd make sure things went differently.

  "Finish up here," I instructed quietly, stepping back toward the medbay door. "Rest up. This evening, we move to the flight deck. I want you to show me exactly what you can do."

  As I turned to leave, I paused, glancing over my shoulder. The five of them watched me carefully, waiting for my final words.

  "Make no mistake," I said, my voice firm yet quiet. "This is more than a mission. This is your chance to stand out and show the brass you are capable for infiltration."

  I left the medbay without waiting for their response, stepping out into the dim corridor, exhaling deeply. My footsteps echoed softly as I walked away, each step carrying the weight of unspoken promises. I'd already failed one team and lost them forever.

  I would not fail this one.

  That evening the air was brisk and sharp, carrying with it the hum of the Death Reckoning’s turbines and the whispering rush of high-altitude wind. Standing near the edge of the flight deck, I watched Alpha Team prepare for their run, adjusting bindings, checking skyboard thrusters, and quietly psyching themselves up.

  The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long, stark shadows across the deck as the ground stretched endlessly below us. I felt a pang of tension ripple through my chest—this mission, disguised carefully as a sponsorship for Alpha Team’s entry into the Korea Skyboarding Finals, was hanging by threads of trust. Threads Edwards and I had carefully woven, but still so fragile they could unravel with one wrong move.

  Raven stepped onto her board first, setting her boots carefully and locking them into place. Her expression was calm, serious—exactly how she always looked before battle. Beside her, Ray’s demeanor matched hers perfectly, quiet confidence radiating from him as he prepared. Charles, Logan, and Case mirrored their leaders, each readying themselves in focused silence.

  I stood back, crossed my arms, and observed them carefully. I’d seen the footage of Team SAF more times than I cared to admit—analyzing their maneuvers, their effortless synchronization, that ruthless precision tempered by unpredictable bursts of creativity. It was no wonder they were admired, feared, and loved across the globe. They moved like a single unit, coordinated to the millisecond. That was exactly what Alpha Team needed to achieve—but their first run would tell me everything.

  “Alright,” I called, my voice sharp and clear, cutting through the wind. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  The team moved instantly. Raven and Ray surged forward together, lifting off smoothly, their skyboards purring with power as they soared into the open sky. Charles, Logan, and Case followed just behind, forming a tight formation as they climbed higher.

  Watching from the deck, I narrowed my eyes, carefully tracking their movements. They were good—damn good—but something was off. I caught it almost immediately. Their timing was precise, their moves well-practiced, yet there was a stiffness, a hesitance that betrayed them. They were trying too hard to mimic human athletes, to blend in. They weren't embracing the very thing that gave them their advantage.

  You’re holding back, I thought, tension gripping me. You’re still afraid of what you’ve become.

  Alpha Team executed another maneuver—a synchronized, twisting dive through holographic rings displayed on their HUDs—and while technically perfect, I felt no thrill. They weren't embodying their power. They weren’t leaning into their edge.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Enough!” I called sharply, signaling them to land. They obeyed immediately, swooping down in tight formation and settling back onto the deck, a hint of uncertainty creeping into their expressions as they approached.

  Raven removed her helmet, eyes sharp, assessing me carefully. “Something wrong, Sarge?”

  “Yes,” I replied simply, pacing in front of them, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. “Tell me—why do you think Team SAF dominates every competition they enter?”

  “Precision,” Ray answered confidently. “Perfect timing. Discipline.”

  “Right,” I agreed, giving him a nod. “But why do people really love them?”

  “They're unpredictable,” Logan chimed in cautiously. “They keep the audience guessing. Even with all their discipline, there’s always something wild—rogue, almost reckless.”

  “Exactly,” I said firmly. “They don’t hide what they are—they lean into it. Their precision shows military discipline, but it’s their willingness to embrace unpredictability that makes them impossible to ignore.”

  I paused, scanning Alpha Team again. They watched me quietly, waiting.

  “You’re trying to pass yourselves off as ordinary skyboarders,” I continued, stepping closer. “You’re fast. You’re good. But you’ll lose if you keep pretending you’re normal. You’re not.”

  Charles frowned slightly, cautious. “You were being serious that we need to emphasize our…unique nature?”

  “Yes,” I answered bluntly. “Your movements are too careful, too controlled. That hesitation—it’s holding you back. You’re hybrids. Faster reflexes, sharper vision, heightened perception. You know how predators move—elegant, precise, powerful. I need you to move like predators.”

  Ray smirked slowly, understanding beginning to dawn. “Like we talked about earlier. Gothic. Dark. Vampiric.”

  I nodded, confirming. “Exactly. Stop thinking like soldiers hiding your abilities. Think like predators. Embrace that darkness—make it your signature.”

  Raven’s expression sharpened, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “You mean visually, too? Make sure the theme is clear—like Balfour with their werewolf imagery.”

  “Yes,” I confirmed, evenly. “But make it yours. Sleek, precise—unsettlingly powerful. You don’t just fly, you dominate the sky. That’s what the audience should feel.”

  Ray chuckled darkly, glancing sideways at Raven. “I think we can handle that.”

  I stepped back, giving them room to prepare for another run. “Good. Now show me. Let’s see what Alpha Team really looks like when they stop pretending.”

  As they returned to their positions, something changed in their posture. Raven’s movements sharpened visibly, her eyes focused with predatory intent. Ray mirrored her intensity. Even Logan, Charles, and Case visibly shifted their demeanor, becoming less hesitant, more fluid—more dangerous.

  I felt a flicker of satisfaction. They understood now.

  “Begin,” I commanded, stepping back.

  This time when they launched, the difference was instantaneous and undeniable. Their movements flowed with eerie perfection, each maneuver executed with ruthless elegance. As they twisted midair, adjusted formations seamlessly, and wove through their complex choreography, I knew without question:

  This was their true nature.

  As I watched them dominate the air, a strange pride tightened my chest. Months ago, Edwards and I had been pawns in someone else’s ruthless game, capturing people like Star Zaraki—someone who, in retrospect, wasn't our enemies at all. The reality had shaken us both, made us realize we were part of something ugly, something we couldn’t stomach. It was that moment that brought us here, carefully engineering an exit strategy—a way out from beneath the shadowy grasp of those who wanted nothing but control and weaponization.

  These five soldiers in front of me—they’d never asked for this. Volunteering for augmentation was one thing, but they hadn’t known the full truth—the vampiric traits, the blood transfusions, the whispers behind closed doors. The military wanted them hidden, silent, controlled. But I refused to let Alpha Team become disposable tools. They weren't weapons; they were my responsibility, my second chance.

  My team. My family.

  And watching them now—owning exactly who they were, embracing it fully—confirmed exactly what I'd hoped:

  They wouldn’t be controlled. They would be feared.

  And when the time came, they’d be ready for whatever happened next.

  Several hours later I stepped into the briefing room, the doors sealed shut behind us with a muted hiss, locking away the noise of the rest of the ship. I took a slow breath, my shoulders finally relaxing a fraction. Captain Edwards stood silently at the table, hands braced firmly on its sleek metal surface, his expression calm but resolute. Across from him, Raven and Ray stood quietly, their eyes flicking between Edwards and me, sensing something deeper at play.

  The room was dim, illuminated only by the cool blue glow of tactical maps and screens. For a brief moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the ship around us. Edwards glanced briefly at me, a silent nod of confirmation before he finally broke the silence.

  “Raven, Ray—officially, this mission is an intel-gathering operation,” he began calmly, tapping the table lightly with his fingers. “Command wants a clearer picture of Team SAF. Their operations, their capabilities, their weaknesses.”

  Raven folded her arms, cautious but calm. “Officially,” she echoed quietly.

  Edwards nodded slowly. “Officially.”

  Ray shifted beside her, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Edwards. “And unofficially?”

  I let Edwards handle it, carefully watching Raven and Ray’s reactions, gauging them closely. This moment was critical. Everything depended on their trust.

  “Unofficially,” Edwards continued carefully, voice quieter now, “we’re not planning to fight Team SAF. We’re planning to talk to them.”

  Silence fell. Raven and Ray exchanged quick, surprised glances. Neither spoke, but the shock was clear.

  “You’re serious?” Raven finally asked, voice low, cautious. “Team SAF? The same team we've been trained to hunt down?”

  Edwards nodded solemnly, leaning forward, placing his palms flat against the cool metal table. “Exactly.”

  Ray folded his arms, skeptical but interested. “Why?”

  Edwards exhaled slowly, eyes locking onto Ray’s. “Because we’re on the wrong side, Ray. We’ve known it for a while. The incident at the Bracton house, the manipulation, the lies—it’s all been piling up. Langley, the Nact Society, Colonel Sirnic—all of it stinks. We’re being used, and I won’t be part of it anymore.”

  The air in the room tightened. I stepped forward, finally speaking up. “We’ve been part of something ugly for too long. Star Zaraki, Cayro Bracton—we saw firsthand what was done to them. What was taken from them.”

  My voice dropped lower, the memories from that night still raw. “Information from Star’s blood created the enhancements you all underwent. It was her DNA, her suffering that gave them the formula. And Cayro? He came for her because we took Star. The destruction in their wake, it was devastating.”

  I saw Raven’s jaw tighten slightly, her fists clenching involuntarily. “You didn't know what they truly were,” she murmured quietly.

  Edwards shook his head firmly. “Ignorance doesn't excuse us. But it opened our eyes. Especially now with you and your team here. If we stay under Langley’s thumb, they’ll continue experimenting, creating more people like you without a shred of transparency. And next time, it might not be volunteers. That’s not a legacy I’m prepared to leave behind.”

  Raven and Ray were quiet for several moments, digesting everything we’d laid bare.

  “So,” Ray finally said, eyes narrowing, “what’s our real play here? Contact SAF and… what?”

  “We defect,” I answered plainly, without hesitation. “The Death Reckoning, Alpha Team—everyone. We vanish.”

  Ray exhaled slowly, impressed but cautious. Raven’s gaze was fixed, studying Edwards carefully. “You already have a contact in place, don’t you, sir?”

  Edwards nodded slightly. “I’ve arranged for a discreet message to be delivered to Captain Clark of the SAF Autumn.”

  Raven nodded slowly, processing the implications. “You’re betting a lot on them trusting us. Even with the history both the Death Reckoning and the Autumn share.”

  “We are,” Edwards admitted. “But Clark’s smart enough to see the bigger picture. He’ll at least hear us out.”

  I watched Raven and Ray carefully. They were young but smart, battle-tested and observant. They knew how dangerous this was, and exactly how slim our chances were. Yet neither of them hesitated. If anything, the quiet resolve building behind their eyes strengthened my confidence that we’d made the right decision.

  “Alright,” Raven finally spoke, eyes firm. “So the skyboarding competition becomes our excuse—civilian cover, perfect legitimacy.”

  Edwards nodded. “Precisely.”

  “And once contact is established?” Ray asked carefully.

  “Then we see where things lead us,” Edwards replied calmly. “Ideally, Clark agrees to help. If not—we improvise.”

  I stepped forward again, voice quieter but firm. “Make no mistake. There’s no turning back once we set this in motion. If this goes wrong, we’re not just going AWOL. We’ll be enemies of the state.”

  Ray glanced sidelong at Raven, giving her a small smile. “I’m okay with that.”

  Raven nodded, a determined glint sharpening her eyes. “Better fugitives than puppets.”

  I felt a quiet surge of pride at their resolve. I hadn’t protected my previous team—hadn’t seen the betrayal coming until it was too late. But this was different. This was deliberate, calculated, informed by the bitter truth we’d uncovered. Edwards and I had opened Pandora’s box the night we captured Star Zaraki, but now we were finally taking responsibility for it.

  Edwards leaned forward again, his voice quieter but more powerful. “We have a narrow window. The competition is our cover—no one will suspect a thing. Keep up the facade. Be convincing. The second we confirm with Clark, we disappear.”

  Raven nodded slowly, thoughtful, calm. “Understood, sir.”

  Ray’s smirk returned, but this time, his humor was genuine, appreciative. “Looks like we’re finally going to do things our way.”

  Edwards smiled faintly, glancing briefly at me. “Exactly.”

  As Raven and Ray stood to leave, I reached out briefly, gently touching Raven’s arm. “Alpha Team deserves better than what they intended for you. I promise you—we won’t let them turn you into pawns.”

  She paused, her eyes meeting mine with a silent understanding. “We trust you, Sarge.”

  They walked out quietly, leaving Edwards and me alone in the heavy silence of the briefing room. I stood still, absorbing the weight of what we'd just set in motion. Edwards moved beside me, quiet for a moment before speaking.

  “You okay?” he asked gently.

  I exhaled, looking over at him with a slight smile. “I’ll be fine once we’re clear.”

  He nodded, staring at the table. “We’ve crossed a line. But at least this time, it’s our choice.”

  “Agreed,” I murmured softly, staring at the tactical map. The lines and markings, the official orders from Langley—they were all meaningless now. This wasn’t just about defection. It was about redemption. It was about making sure that this time, we got it right.

  “Pandora’s box,” I said softly, glancing back at him. “We opened it.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Now it’s our job to close it.”

  I felt Edwards’ eyes settle on me, silently gauging my reaction. The weight of our past decisions sat heavily in the room, thickening the air like smoke. My throat tightened as the memories rose unbidden—Star Zaraki’s defiant eyes as we took her captive, the fear and rage etched clearly on Cayro Bracton’s face as he hunted us down. We'd been so sure back then. So blindly certain we were doing the right thing—taking out dangerous rogues, protecting innocent lives.

  But we'd been wrong. Horribly wrong.

  “You think Clark will trust us after what happened last time?” I asked quietly, meeting Edwards’ gaze directly. "After we openly attacked them?"

  Edwards sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “Clark’s pragmatic. He's not blind. He'll know we’re desperate—he’ll know we wouldn’t risk reaching out unless things had gone sideways. He’ll also know that something serious must've changed for us to come to him.”

  The memory twisted inside me, bitter and sharp. "We didn't just attack Team SAF last time, Captain. We hunted them. We captured Star Zaraki and ripped that data right from her veins. Hell, we nearly destroyed them." My voice lowered, anger simmering beneath my tone. "If they agree to this, it'll be despite us—not because of us."

  Edwards took a long, weary breath. "You're right. We attacked them directly. That's why it has to be Clark. He knows firsthand exactly how far we've fallen. He also knows better than anyone what we're running from."

  I stood silent for a moment, processing his words. Edwards was right. If there was anyone who understood how deep the corruption went, it was Clark. He'd faced us, fought us, survived us. If he could somehow trust us now—after everything—it would mean more than just survival. It would mean redemption.

  "We've already crossed lines we can never uncross," I finally said softly, meeting Edwards' eyes. "We don't deserve their forgiveness."

  Edwards exhaled slowly, eyes steady and unwavering. "Maybe not. But if Clark gives us a chance, we'll spend the rest of our lives earning it."

  The silence between us thickened, heavy with the weight of our choices. Finally, I nodded slowly, turning my eyes toward the tactical map. It was done. The plan was set, and there was no turning back.

  "Then let's make damn sure we earn it."

  The ship continued forward quietly, each mile pushing us further into unknown territory. We were already past the point of no return, and we both knew it. From here on out, there was no turning back.

  We were committed.