Alarms blared throughout the station, the deep, guttural wails echoing through the massive corridors. The distant sound of the explosion still rang in the ears of everyone nearby, and a faint tremor shook the floors beneath them.

  Inside one of the many Chinese restaurants that dotted the station, the scent of sizzling meat and spices was quickly overpowered by the acrid stench of burning metal and smoke. Marines Hayes and Daniels were seated at a small table, chopsticks in hand, engaged in a heated debate—though only one of them seemed truly invested.

  "I'm just saying," Daniels grumbled, gesturing with his chopsticks as he lifted another bite of orange chicken to his mouth, "we don't know if this is an actual emergency. Could be a drill, could be some idiot setting off explosives in a cargo bay again. No reason to waste good food."

  Hayes, standing beside him, arms crossed, rolled his eyes. "Daniels, the damn station just shook. That ain't a drill. Move your ass."

  Daniels waved him off, stuffing another piece of chicken into his mouth. "Look, Hayes, you just don’t appreciate fine dining. This is real, authentic—"

  The restaurant’s lights flickered, and the emergency red strobes kicked in. Around them, officers started rushing toward exits, some shouting, others pushing past tables and servers who were barely processing the chaos.

  Daniels’ wrist communicator flared to life with a sharp of blue light. Hayes checked his own, the HUD flashing an urgent message:

  ALL CREW REPORT TO THE LIBERTY. IMMEDIATELY.

  Before they could process it further, the message cut out in static—just as the entire restaurant shook violently. A thunderous roar filled the air, and before their very eyes, a old Checkmate Union fighter spiraled out of control, screaming down the length of the main promenade before slamming into the crowded market square just outside the restaurant. The explosion was deafening. A wave of heat and force shattered the restaurant’s glass windows, sending debris flying. People were thrown from their feet, and fire immediately spread across the wreckage.

  For a moment, everything was frozen—then the screams began.

  Daniels, still gripping his bowl, looked at Hayes with wide eyes. Hayes stared back, then barked, "NOW DO YOU WANNA LEAVE THE DAMN FOOD?!"

  Daniels cursed, tossing the bowl aside. "Fine! But I was really enjoying that!"

  "Run first, complain later!" Hayes grabbed Daniels by the collar and pulled him toward the exit as chaos erupted around them.

  With alarms wailing, the two marines bolted through the crowd, weaving past panicked civilians and emergency responders, racing toward the Liberty before all hell truly broke loose.

  As they stumbled out of the wrecked restaurant, the acrid smoke and flashing emergency lights painted a picture of absolute chaos. The station’s once-busy promenade was now a warzone—civilians running for shelter, soldiers scrambling to form defensive lines, and the eerie crackling of burning wreckage filled the air.

  Ahead of them, parked at an emergency staging area, was a Union-certified Humvee, its matte-black plating gleaming under the station’s flickering lights.

  Daniels pointed at it. "That’s our ride!"

  Hayes grabbed his arm as they sprinted towards the vehicle, boots pounding against the metal floor. "Do either of us even know how to drive one of these?"

  Daniels hesitated. "Uh—"

  A explosion erupted behind them, shaking the station. Both men turned just in time to see a massive Union battleship the Directors Might

  And then they saw it.

  Hovering in the debris field was a colossal alien-looking disc-shaped vessel, its sleek, silvered surface reflecting the station’s emergency lights. It was unlike any ship the Union had ever fielded, a war machine of the Allied forces.

  Daniels' voice cracked. "Oh hell—OH HELL NO—"

  Hayes shoved him. "Less talking, more driving! YES OR NO?!"

  Daniels stammered, hands in the air. "I mean, technically, —"

  ""

  "Fourth Battle of the Round Table! But it was a joyride, okay? I didn’t do anything crazy!"

  Hayes didn’t hesitate—he grabbed Daniels by the collar, yanked open the driver’s door, and shoved him inside.

  "Well, CONGRATS, DANIELS! You’re promoted to driver!" Hayes jumped into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut. "Now MOVE!"

  Daniels, muttering a string of curses, slammed his foot on the accelerator. The Humvee’s engines roared to life as they peeled out of the lot, tires screeching against the metal floor.

  All around them, the station was falling apart. Union tanks were rolling into position, their massive barrels swiveling toward the incoming enemy ships. Troops in black-and-gold Union armor sprinted past them, setting up portable anti-air turrets along the station's defense platforms. Overhead, sirens blared as more fighter squadrons launched, engaging the alien warships in brutal dogfights.

  Daniels swerved wildly to avoid a parked supply truck. "WHERE THE HELL ARE WE GOING?!"

  Hayes clutched the dashboard as they narrowly dodged a team of engineers unloading missile launchers. "BACK TO THE LIBERTY STUPID! FLOOR IT!"

  As the Humvee tore down the station’s highway-like transport corridors, the chaotic battle outside only grew worse. The neon lights that once lined the station’s commercial district flickered violently as explosions erupted across the sprawling metal landscape.

  Daniels gripped the wheel with white-knuckled hands, swerving wildly to dodge abandoned vehicles, fallen debris, and entire craters blown into the station’s infrastructure.

  “LEFT! LEFT!” Hayes barked, pointing at an open lane ahead.

  Daniels yanked the wheel. “You know the last time you gave me directions you took us into a damn volcano, genius!”

  Hayes groaned, looking around in frustration. “Where the did we park the Liberty?!”

  “I dunno, man, this station’s like a the damn backrooms! Everything looks the same!”

  A high-pitched screech rang out above them as a super-powered individual in golden armor crashed through the highway’s upper bridge, sending sparks and twisted metal raining down. Daniels yelped and slammed the brakes just as another figure—a Union super wrapped in crimson energy—came flying down, and hurling him through a military truck like it was made of paper.

  The truck flipped violently, tumbling end over end, before slamming into a fuel depot, triggering a fireball that sent a rippling across the station.

  Both men screamed as their Humvee was lifted off the ground, the explosion rocking the vehicle violently before it slammed back down, skidding sideways.

  Daniels, breathing heavily, wiped sweat from his brow. “Yeah. Nope. Nope, nope, nope, I hate this.”

  Hayes smacked his communicator, bringing up their frequency. “Where the hell is the damn ship?”

  The communicator crackled. A very pissed-off Sergeant Collins came through the line.

  “WHERE THE HELL YOU TWO!?”

  Daniels and Hayes shared a nervous look.

  “Uhh…” Daniels started.

  “We, uh—” Hayes scratched the back of his head.

  Collins’ voice darkened. “Don’t you tell me—”

  “We, uh, kinda…” Daniels gulped. “We ?”

  Silence.

  A very long, painful silence.

  Then—

  “” Collins’ roar practically blew out their speakers.

  Hayes flinched. “Look, it’s a big station, man!”

  Collins sighed so hard it sounded like he was about to punch a hole in a bulkhead. “You absolute ! We’re in the middle of a full-scale invasion and you—YOU FORGOT WHERE THE LIBERTY IS?!”

  Daniels cleared his throat. “That’s, uh… that’s a yes.”

  More silence. Then—Collins grumbled angrily, and a notification popped up on their dashboard.

  “There! GPS COORDINATES. Follow them before I shoot you myself- well that if the enemy doesn't shoot you first!”

  Before either could respond, a shadow loomed over them—

  A massive Union battleship, engulfed in flames, was spiraling out of control, its engines blown apart, its entire structure collapsing in on itself.

  Daniels’ eyes widened. “Uh—”

  The hulking warship crashed behind them, exploding on impact, sending a shockwave ripping through the highway. Entire sections caved in, vehicles tumbled off the roads, and the structural integrity of the entire area began to fail.

  Hayes grabbed the dashboard in horror. “DRIVE, DRIVE, DRIVE!”

  Daniels floored it.

  The Humvee tore down the station’s battered highway, swerving around craters and obstacles as the chaos around them escalated. Daniels’ hands gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. The air was thick with the sound of explosions and the ever-present hum of the station’s emergency alarms.

  “We’re close! We’re close!” Daniels muttered to himself, eyes glued to the flashing GPS coordinates.

  But then—out of nowhere—a massive rumble shook the ground, and the entire station seemed to tremble. Hayes’ head snapped toward the distant berth just as the towering form of the began to rise, its massive engines humming to life.

  “No! No, NO!” Hayes shouted in disbelief. “They’re taking off without us!”

  Daniels cursed under his breath, slamming his foot harder on the gas. The Humvee shot forward with a new urgency, weaving through wreckage as it raced toward the ship’s docking bay. But there was no way they’d make it in time on the damaged highway. The was already lifting off, engines flaring brightly against the station’s chaotic backdrop.

  Hayes cursed again, his frustration mounting. "This is it, we're done!"

  But then, just ahead, something caught Daniels’ eye. He jerked the wheel hard to the left, throwing them off the main path and down a narrow side corridor leading toward the ship's berth.

  “Daniels, what the hell are you doing?!” Hayes yelled.

  “There! The old mech!” Daniels shouted, pointing at the massive, destroyed frame of an ancient Union mech, half-buried under a heap of debris. Its once-powerful form lay dormant, its armor dented and scorched, but still recognizable.

  “I’m doing this -style!” Daniels declared with a manic grin.

  “What?!” Hayes looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. “No way! It’s too dangerous!”

  But Daniels wasn’t listening. With a whoop of adrenaline, he swerved the Humvee toward the mech, his foot slamming down on the pedal harder than ever. The vehicle launched itself over the wreckage of a destroyed cargo truck, hurtling toward the massive, fallen Union mech.

  “We’re gonna make it! We’re gonna—”

  The Humvee hit the mech with a bone-jarring crash, but the momentum was on their side. Daniels grinned as they launched into the air, aiming straight for the open cargo hold of the . The docking bay doors were wide open, the last of the space marines scrambling to get aboard as the ship began to rise higher, engines roaring.

  Hayes let out a scream, his grip on the dashboard almost breaking. “Are you ?!”

  Daniels didn’t answer. The Humvee soared through the air, gliding toward the ship as the sound of rushing air and engines filled their ears. The next few seconds seemed to stretch on forever.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  And then, with a gut-wrenching crash, the Humvee slammed into the cargo hold, containers and debris flying everywhere as they skidded across the floor. The vehicle flipped once before finally coming to a screeching halt, throwing the two men forward into the seatbelts with a violent jolt.

  For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the occasional groan of the vehicle and the distant sound of alarms blaring inside the .

  Both men sat there, wide-eyed and gasping for breath, their hearts pounding in their chests.

  “Did… did we really just do that?” Hayes panted, still gripping the dashboard like it might save him.

  Daniels, still in his seat, grinned through the wreckage. “Hell yeah, we did. Just like the movies.”

  Before either could process the insanity of what they'd just pulled off, the cargo hold doors slammed shut, and the ’s engines roared louder as it began its ascent, leaving the broken station behind. The chaos of the battle outside seemed so far away, even though they could still hear the faint sounds of explosions through the hull.

  Marines rushed toward them, guns drawn, their expressions tense as they approached the wrecked Humvee.

  “Are you guys alright?” one of them asked, looking them over with a sharp eye.

  Daniels and Hayes exchanged a glance, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins. Both of them gave a thumbs up, grinning like idiots.

  “We're good,” Daniels said, still panting. “Just… don’t ask us to do that again.”

  The marine just stared at them for a second, before shaking his head and muttering, “You guys are nuts…”

  The bridge of the was bathed in the dim glow of emergency lights, alarms blaring in the background as the ship’s crew scrambled to keep the vessel steady amidst the chaos of battle. Outside the viewport, the view was nothing short of apocalyptic. Union ships, their sleek forms unmistakable, were locked in furious combat with a hodgepodge of alien warships, militias, and even ancient battleships from an era long past, now retrofitted with massive rocket systems.

  Lasers flashed through the void, streaking past the as they clashed with enemy vessels. In the distance, figures that could only be described as superheroes—dressed in shining, otherworldly armor—dueled, their beams of energy cutting across the sky, slamming into enemy ships with explosive force. The entire scene looked like a mad dance of destruction, each side fighting with everything they had. The tension was palpable.

  Captain Lewis stood at the bridge, his eyes narrowed as he watched the carnage unfold below. His expression was grim, but the weight of command was heavy on his shoulders. Despite the violence outside, there was still a job to do.

  “Captain,” McGregor's voice broke through the tense silence. The first officer approached, his expression equally serious. “All crew accounted for. We’re ready to move out, sir.”

  Lewis nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on the battle below. “Good. All systems go. We move out as planned.”

  The ship lurched forward, engines roaring to life as the prepared to escape the hellish battlefield. The distant rumblings of explosions reverberated through the hull. The ship began its calculated course, a coordinated dance designed to take them out of the conflict zone and into the safety of the unknown. But as the ship made its way toward the transdimensional engines, a flash of movement caught Lewis' eye.

  One of the Union fighter jets, an agile, sleek craft resembling the old f22, was hit in a violent explosion. The fighter veered off course, plummeting toward the in a fiery descent.

  "Hey why aren't the auto defenses targeting that thing?" The captain looked at his weapons officer on the bridge as hey looking at his holo screen

  " Sir They just aren't responding the defenses are saying it's a friendly"

  "Well override them that hunk of crap could-

  Before anyone could react, the jet crashed into the transdimensional engines, a loud, deafening impact sending a shockwave through the entire ship. Sparks erupted from the hull, and alarms blared as the ship lurched violently.

  "We're hit!" a crew member shouted, scrambling to maintain control. "Transdimensional engines are have been hit Key power systems are dmaged, sir!"

  The shuddered as the dimensional jump process was interrupted, the ship being knocked off its intended course, spiraling uncontrollably toward an unknown dimension. The view through the bridge’s viewport warped and stretched, revealing a strange, distorted rift ahead.

  Meanwhile, a nearby Allied frigate—a vessel that resembled an older, larger version of a UNSA destroyer, sleek with a menacing, angular design—took notice of the situation. Its captain, an officer with sharp, calculating eyes, watched as the spiraled out of control. The frigate's crew began to react quickly, anticipating the consequences of this unexpected turn.

  “Prepare to take that ship out!” the captain of the Allied frigate barked, slamming his fist onto the console. "It’s weak, vulnerable. And it's obviously trying to escape with some damn higher ups!!"

  His first officer looked uncertain. "Captain, that ship is barely a blip on our radar. It seems insignificant. Do we really need to engage?"

  The captain’s eyes narrowed, the decision already made. "Yes. We follow this ship…the so-called —we track it into that rift and destroy it. No mercy."

  The first officer hesitated. “But Captain, the is an old Union ship. It’s not one of their capital vessels or helleven a carrier. The is insignificant compared to the battleships out there. There’s no strategic value in pursuing it.”

  "I don’t care about its value," the captain growled. "I care about its destruction. The Union needs to be wiped out, and this is the perfect opportunity to follow them into that rift. If we don’t act now, the might escape. We can’t let the union spread and destroy others' lives like they have destroyed ours."

  The crew of the frigate murmured, clearly uneasy with the order, but the captain’s voice was firm, and there was no room for argument.

  "Prepare to engage," he snapped, his eyes burning with a ruthless desire for victory. "We’re going after them."

  But the crew’s discontent was palpable. “Sir,” the first officer pressed, “this doesn’t feel right. We have no idea where that rift leads. It could be dangerous. We’re not sure if the even poses a threat.”

  The captain’s patience had worn thin. “You’ll follow orders, or you’ll answer me!”

  The tension in the bridge was thick, the crew members exchanging uneasy glances. The first officer, a man who had served loyally for years, stepped forward one last time. "Captain, I implore you to reconsider. This isn’t the mission we signed up for."

  The captain’s face twisted with fury. Without a second thought, he drew his sidearm, the old reliable m1911 galactic upgrade , the sharp crack of the gun ringing through the bridge. The first officer fell to the ground with a thud, his body crumpling in shock.

  "Now," the captain said coldly, holstering his weapon, "we go after the . Anyone who disagrees with me can join him."

  The remaining officers on the bridge were silent, fear evident in their eyes as they quickly carried out the captain’s orders. With the ship's alien resident shouting MOVE MOVE to break them from their gaze. The frigate turned its course, following the toward the rift, its engines firing up with the cold efficiency of a war machine on a mission of destruction.

  The drifted through the interior of the station, its immense hull marred by the scars of battle, slowly retreating from the carnage of the Union's last stand. Admiral Harrow stood on the bridge, his eyes staring out at the vast emptiness of space, the battle raging in the distance as the Union’s forces were pushed back on all fronts.

  The scene outside the viewport was bleak—a sky filled with explosions and the twisted remains of Union warships. The and the Allied frigate had already disappeared into the rift, leaving behind only a growing firestorm of destruction. The Union’s might had faltered, their demoralized troops no match for the unrelenting advance of the Allied forces. Abrams tanks, upgraded mechs, and supers clashed against Union soldiers, their resistance all but crushed.

  Harrow had been silent for what seemed like an eternity. Though religion had long been banned in the Union, in these final moments, as his nation collapsed around him, he found solace in a silent prayer. Despite everything that had gone wrong, despite the failures of the Union and its lost cause, he muttered under his breath, asking for peace for those who had given their lives. It was a quiet act of defiance against the edicts of his nation, one of the few remaining freedoms he still clung to in the face of total destruction.

  He heard a voice behind him. It was the Minister, breaking the silence with a call on the console. “Admiral Hale, you must continue the fight! Do not surrender! This is our last stand! We cannot let the Allies win!”

  The words were filled with urgency, but to Hale, they felt hollow. The Union was already falling apart. He had been watching it crumble for months. The Allied forces were overwhelming them, pushing the Union back on every front. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, hearing the words the captain had spoken earlier echoing in his mind.

  Hale made his decision in that instant. He reached forward and shut down the call, his hand steady despite the chaos around him. “All forces stand down,” he ordered, his voice calm and resolute. “No more fighting. We are done.”

  The officers around him looked at one another with disbelief. “Admiral, we... we can’t just give up,” one of them protested.

  “We have,” Harrow said simply. “The Union is lost. There’s no more point in fighting. Our best chance now is to preserve what’s left.”

  As the crew began to process the gravity of his decision, Harrow turned to a private comm channel, linking up with the leader of the Allied invasion forces, Admiral Cunningham. The screen flickered to life, showing the stern face of the Allied officer, who gave a small, humorless smile when he saw Harrow’s expression.

  “You’re surrendering?” Cunningham asked, his tone almost surprised.

  “It’s over,” Hale replied, his voice heavy with finality. “The Union is finished. You win.”

  Cunningham chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I didn’t think I’d see the day that a Union admiral would be the one to throw in the towel. I always thought you guys fought to the death.”

  “We’re all dying anyway,” Harrow muttered, bitterness creeping into his voice.

  The conversation continued for a moment longer, but the atmosphere was thick with the unspoken understanding that Harrow’s surrender had sealed the fate of the Union.

  But then the door to the bridge slammed open, and the Minister stormed in. His face was red with rage, his eyes wild with panic. In his hands, he gripped an old, well-worn plasma pistol—an artifact from an era long passed.

  “Admiral!” The Minister’s voice was filled with fury. “You can’t surrender! You will give up on the Union!”

  Harrow’s eyes darkened as he turned to face the Minister. “It’s over, Minister. There’s nothing more to fight for. The Union is—”

  “” the Minister roared, stepping closer, his pistol raised. “We will not be abandoned by our leaders! You will not give up on everything we’ve fought for!”

  Harrow stood his ground, a deep weariness settling over him. “It’s already gone. We can’t keep pretending...”

  Before he could finish, the Minister’s hand trembled as he aimed the plasma pistol directly at the admiral’s chest. "You WILL fight until the end, Admiral. You will not surrender to these scum!"

  Suddenly, there was a sharp , and the screen cut out, the transmission severed abruptly. Hale's last expression was one of resigned defeat before the blast consumed him.

  Outside the , the empty silence of space held witness to the collapse of the Union’s leadership. The remaining generals and leaders, having fought and bled for a cause that was already lost, were now gone—erased from history in an instant.

  The Union was finished.

  The shrill blare of the Liberty’s alarms echoed throughout the crippled vessel, their high-pitched wails like a banshee calling out in the void. The red emergency lights cast a blood-hued glow on the cold, abandoned corridors. Captain Lewis groaned as he slowly regained consciousness, the world around him spinning. His head throbbed, his body stiff from the impact of the explosion that had sent the Liberty careening into space.

  He blinked against the dim light and struggled to sit up, taking a moment to gather himself. The ship was dead in space, partially paralyzed. The air was thick with tension and the smell of burnt metal. He pushed himself to his feet, stumbling as the ship's systems tried to stabilize. His hand grabbed the wall for support, and with a grunt, he made his way toward the bridge.

  As he staggered onto the bridge, his first sight was the navigation officer, a young woman, staring blankly at her console. She was trying to maintain composure, but the uncertainty was evident in her eyes. Lewis approached her, leaning against the back of the chair for balance.

  “Did we arrive?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  The navigation officer turned to him, blinking as if processing the question. She took a moment before replying, her voice shaky but steady. “Not yet, Captain. We’re still in orbit. We’re... not sure exactly where we are.” She turned back to her display, eyes scanning multiple readouts that seemed to be glitching.

  “And the crew?” he asked, his concern rising.

  “They’re... most of them are being treated. Medics are moving through the ship, but, uh... there’s a lot of damage. Power’s down in most sections, and we’re not exactly in a good position right now.” She looked back at him. “We need answers.”

  Before Lewis could respond, the voice of the Chief Engineer crackled over the intercom, cutting through the tension.

  “Captain! Engineering to the bridge. We’ve got problems!”

  Lewis' stomach sank. “Go ahead, Chief.”

  “We're dead in the water here, Captain. The engines are completely offline. No power to the defensive systems. We’re drifting... drifting straight toward the planet’s atmosphere.” There was a pause before the Chief Engineer’s voice came through again, a hint of urgency in her words. “If we don’t get those engines back online, we’re looking at a crash landing. And not a pleasant one.”

  A cold dread washed over Lewis as he looked out at the space ahead, seeing nothing but emptiness and the looming threat of the planet. It was impossible to tell exactly which one they were orbiting, but it didn’t matter. They were stranded.

  Then, from out of nowhere, a massive explosion lit up the void—an allied frigate. Its hulking form glided past them, seemingly dead in space, the hull riddled with damage. Lewis squinted, staring at the vessel as it drifted closer, its engines dark and lifeless.

  Before he could react, a sudden burst of motion snapped his attention back to the immediate danger. The allied ship was now angling toward them, its weapons offline, but the crew had one last card to play. They were attempting to ram them.

  Lewis’ eyes narrowed as he stared at the allied ship, then turned quickly toward the navigation officer. “We’re in a standoff,” he muttered. “They’re going to ram us. Brace for impact!”

  The crew scrambled to their stations, hands flying over consoles as they struggled to find a solution. The ship shook violently as the gravity well of the nearby planet began to pull both ships closer.

  “Captain!” The Chief Engineer’s voice came through again, desperation seeping through her words. “I’ve got the backup thrusters online! If we can get full power to the main engines—”

  Lewis didn’t wait for her to finish. “Do it. Get those engines running.”

  The Liberty’s hull groaned under the stress, but as the backup thrusters fired, the ship began to move, fighting against the gravity. The allied frigate was now in full view, and it was closing in fast.

  “Steady!” the navigation officer called out, her voice tight with fear. “We’re too close! If we don’t move, we’ll be dragged down into the planet’s atmosphere!”

  “Do it, Chief! NOW!” Lewis barked, gripping the back of the chair, watching as the allied ship prepared to ram. The final moments of the standoff seemed to stretch for an eternity.

  Then, suddenly, a burst of power erupted from the Liberty. The engines roared back to life, their pulse thrumming through the hull. It was too late for the allied ship to react.

  With a deafening crash, the Liberty surged forward, narrowly avoiding the ramming collision. The allied frigate, now caught in its own trajectory, plummeted into the unknown, a fiery streak in the distance. The ship’s hull erupted into flames as it spiraled toward the planet below. A moment later, the void swallowed it whole. Whether it disintegrated in the atmosphere or impacted the surface, no one would ever know.

  For a long moment, the Liberty was the only thing left in orbit.

  “Captain,” the navigation officer said in a trembling voice, “we’re stable for now, but we need to find a place to land. The crew’s not going to last much longer without proper medical supplies.”

  Lewis stood silently, staring at the empty void where the frigate had once been. The silence on the bridge was deafening, broken only by the hum of the Liberty’s repaired engines. His thoughts raced.

  “We’ll figure that out later,” he said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else. “For now... we’re alive. We need to survive.”

  He turned to the officer at the tactical station. “Get me a report on the situation below. Are there any habitable planets in range?”

  The officer nodded, typing rapidly into the console. “There’s one planet in the system, Captain. Looks promising. It’s got a breathable atmosphere, and we might be able to get down there safely... if we can just get these systems running.”

  Lewis nodded grimly. “Do what you can. We’re not out of this yet.”

  On the bridge of the allied frigate The America, Captain Sinclair stared out at the Liberty as it slowly drifted in orbit. His fingers drummed absently against the arm of his chair, eyes narrowed with uncertainty.

  “Ram them,” he had ordered moments before, his voice cold and resolute. They had no choice but to eliminate the threat before the Union ship could recover. It was a necessary sacrifice to ensure their own survival.

  But now... it seemed as if fate had played a cruel trick. The Liberty had survived, and his ship had paid the price. A shudder ran through his bones as he witnessed the destruction of the allied vessel, his last desperate attempt to stop the Union ship falling apart in an instant.

  As the Liberty remained in orbit, Captain Sinclair’s mind was filled with one thought: What now? His ship was gone. Their mission was a failure. The Union ship had outlasted them.

  The only thought the captain could blurt out while his crew was eye balling him

  "Well then shi-

  Midstates Humvee traces its origins to the United States’ iconic High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle (HMMWV), which was widely used in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. As the Universal Union expanded and consolidated power in its home universe, its military sought to standardize and improve on existing vehicles, integrating them into the new global war machine. During the Great Annexation Wars, where the Union absorbed the remaining sovereign nations, the United States' military-industrial complex was repurposed for Union use. Among the many assets seized was the Humvee, a vehicle that had already proven itself in decades of warfare.