The unnatural calm of space travel was unnerving to some, but to James Cross it was the last moment of silence and serenity before emerging into unknown situations when dropping out of hyperspeed. There wasn't much to see as he gazed out of the bridge's main observation deck at the black void, but there was something about the absence of anything there that allowed Cross to think, like an artist looking at a blank canvas and wondering what could be created with it. Keeping his hands clasped firmly behind his back, the captain suppressed the gnawing anxiety in him as he looked at his console and saw the digital timer ticking down, knowing there was only a short time before the Galahad's Glare emerged out of hyperspace, along with the rest of the fleet, into the enemy occupied orbit of Outremer. Reports had been coming in for days that the Outremer army and fleet had been taking losses and losing territory, and communication had been increasingly desperate. Cross knew that Galahad's Glare and the rest of the fleet were the final chance for thousands of Outremer's people, both military and civilian. He also knew they would not be able to save them all.
“Captain,” came the voice of a young ensign, saluting as she came to attention. “Commander 317 reports he and the Salient Blue Team are ready for immediate deployment when we exit hyperspace, sir.” The captain nodded and thanked the ensign for her report, then turned back to the observation window.
“Have him come up to the observation deck, ensign.” he said, briefly turning back to face her. She saluted again and left the deck expediently to fetch the Salient commander. Orders and instructions had already been issued to every soldier, marine, sailor, crewman and civilian onboard every ship in the fleet, but the captain intended to confer with some of the senior officers aboard nevertheless, including 317.
It took no more than five minutes before the main door to the observation deck opened with an audible shhh and the metal floor echoed a clank, distinct from the dull thud of service boots. The captain felt an imposing shadow behind him and turned to see a colossal figure in blue, white-trimmed powered armour.
“Sir,” began the commander. He did not salute, but inclined his head and stood rigidly to attention. He towered over the captain by almost two feet and had to tilt his head downwards to meet his gaze. Captain Cross looked at his reflection in the commander's visor. “My team is ready,” added the commander. “We'll deploy in the strike pods before the marines and ground forces arrive planetside like we discussed. Everything is in order.”
“Good. We may only have moments to make our opening strike. Once we emerge from hyperspace we'll have minutes at most to manoeuvre the fleet and disembark our complement. We need the ground as secure as possible for the drop ships to land,” said the captain, observing the digital representations of the fleet, Outremer and the enemy fleet displayed on a large console. What he said was not hyperbole, they would likely be outnumbered and overpowered, but they had surprise on their side for a few moments, during which they would need to unload thousands of soldiers and marines on to the ground whilst the battlecruisers and other capital ships held position in orbit above the landing zones. Galahad's Glare's complement of salients and marines, as well as the soldiers and vehicles they were transporting would be deployed to one major landing zone near a major city where an extremely high profile asset had been located and tagged for extraction. Galahad's Glare was a large and powerful ship, but substantially swifter and lighter than a capital ship. She had been chosen as the primary carrier of the asset, and Captain Cross held responsibility for its extraction.

“FTL exit in thirty minutes - all crew to action stations.” The ship’s AI intoned through speakers in the ceiling of the armoury. It would’ve played inside Serin’s head too, if she hadn’t denied it access to her neural implant upon boarding. Moving fast now, she helped herself to a compact assault rifle which magnetised nicely to the front of her new tactical vest. Three magazines fit into pouches alongside it, with her OSNID operator sidearm relegated to a holster at her hip.

She contemplated a few other weapons and toys, but decided to travel light. For Dr Hamilton, Serin had picked out an over-clothes armour pack and a small pistol, just in case. She grabbed them from an adjoining table along with her suit’s helmet and pushed past a squad of marines out of the armoury.

She called Clara via her implant, slaloming past running crewmen in the crowded corridors at a jog. “Serin? where are you? They’re nearly ready to leave.” She eventually picked up.

“I’m on my way with all your gear, princess. You can thank me when it stops a bullet. Are you in a hangar bay?”

“Yeah…hangar 2. I’ll save you a seat.” Clara disconnected. Although the official plan was for civilians to wait until the landing zone was secure, Clara had insisted she get onto the planet as fast as possible. Serin had strongly objected at first, until she’d requisitioned reports from Outremer suggesting the unknown fleet was still active in orbit and appeared extremely powerful. She wanted to get Dr Hamilton to the asset as fast as possible, so they had the best chance of a craft to exfil to at the end.

---
Clara checked the FTL clock while taking a last drink from her water bottle. Fifteen minutes to go. The troop transport they’d repurposed to carry the asset was prepped and waiting. All the data she’d been given on the object indicated it wasn’t harmful to human life by proximity. So she’d allowed the crew to fit a few more soldier seats back in at the last moment. They sat strapped in now, nervously eyeing the spherical mount in the middle of the dropship’s cargo area.

“We need to get you in place, ma’am.” a voice said. She turned; the gunnery sergeant was standing next to her, motioning with one hand for the waiting dropship..

“We need to wait for Serin.”

“I’m here.” Serin strode past, dumping an armour pack and sidearm into Clara’s arms.

“Are we ready to go?” She asked the sergeant, he nodded.

Her eyes glazed over momentarily while she accessed her comms device.

“Captain. We’re ready to deploy.”

Once back, she took the armour pack out of Clara’s arms, activated it and chucked it at Clara’s feet. It unfurled into a mess of wires and thin blue material that grabbed hold of the doctor’s leg and began climbing up like a spider. After half a minute, she was covered from foot to neck in light armour, with a horrified look on her face. Serin chuckled. “Always wanted to do that. Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“Good luck, sir,” was the last thing Alex heard before the drop pods carrying the ship’s Salients were launched from the port side of the Galahad’s Glare. Through a small, reinforced observation window facing outwards from his seat, Alex saw the petty officer who launched his pod salute. He was gone in a split second, replaced with a flash of combusting gas as the pod began its supersonic trajectory through the emptiness of space towards the surface of Outremer.
Alex’s pod was accompanied by six pods containing a Salient in each, and two dozen carrying elite drop troops assigned to accompany and protect the augmented soldiers on their critical assignment. Though in overall command of the unit, Alex would be leading the Salient Blue Team, while his lieutenant, Zara-387, lead the Red Team a few kilometers from the Blue Team’s landing site on a separate mission, whereafter they will rejoin the rest of the unit. The crew of the Galahad’s Glare watched the two dozen or so pods soar through the void like a cluster of embers, rapidly shrinking until they were imperceptible. There was no sound within the pods aside from the gentle hum of the electronics. Alex read the console in front of him and saw that his velocity was several times the speed of sound and rapidly increasing.
Outside the windows of their ships, the crews of the OSN fleet could see a dazzling display of lights. The capital ships had steamed ahead of the smaller ships carrying troops, and began to engage the alien vessels in orbit over Outremer. The naval action was hundreds of thousands of miles away, yet it seemed close enough to touch for each crewman who knew that within minutes their ship could be struck and their hull ruptured, leaving them victim to the vacuum of space. There was no time for those thoughts now.
“Thirty seconds to planetside,” came the monotone voice of the information suite inside Alex’s helmet. His optical display showed the artificial ground of Outremer where he would be landing, as well as the position of his pod and the others around him. His trajectory was almost ninety degrees. The ground below him was almost completely flat, and the program controlling the descent of the pod adjusted its position to avoid an angled landing. Alex didn’t need to speak to his team. Each one of them knew their mission to the letter, and each one of them was capable of carrying it out on their own. They didn’t need the reassurance of normal soldiers or marines. They would be landing almost a minute before the drop troops followed them so they could thin out the bulk of whatever awaited them.

“Impact imminent.” Five seconds later the concrete ground of the city outskirts upon which Alex landed cracked and sundered under the enormous stress of the pod’s landing. Milliseconds after touching down the door of the pod hissed and ejected forwards, as though a superhuman had wrenched it from its hinges and tossed it away like waste paper. Alex propelled himself from his seat and waded through the grey air, thick with dust kicked up from his impact. Before he had even cleared the pod he had fired his first round from his rifle. His optical display showed the thermal outlines of Outremer’s aggressors. Somewhat humanoid, but altogether not human. There were dozens of them. A platoon or more, in OSN terminology. Alien forces occupying the area of the city they had taken, picking through the debris and wreckage of their invasion. Some of them were small, runty creatures that stumbled and hopped rather than walking. They looked like labourers, used for menial work. Others wore some kind of shimmering armour which dazzled the eye when struck by sunlight. These were much taller. They would tower over the drop troops when they landed.
All around him Alex saw wrecked vehicles and buildings. He saw a collapsed bridge a kilometer or so away. The air was hazy and smoky, exacerbated by the dust kicked up by the Salients landing around him. He fired another round, taking another step forward. Then another. Another. Within five seconds of landing, the pod had released his harness, ejected the door, he had readied his rifle, stepped through and executed three of the creatures. They hadn’t even seen him through the dust. Two of his team landed almost close enough to touch their pods, further clouding the air. One of the doors of the pods ejected forward with such force that it crushed one of the labouring aliens against a wall. Their rifles joined Alex’s percussive orchestra. Another pod landed nearby, but through the roof of a building, smashing through each floor in succession until it struck the ground. Its occupant had to manually break through his door and blast away rubble with an explosive device, protected by his powered armour.
Ten seconds had passed since Alex had landed. A dozen were dead, the rest reeling from the shock and making for whatever cover they could find. The salients were all planetside now, working together to clear the area. They didn’t need to speak. Each of them knew what to do, like programmed machines, and they performed their purpose perfectly. Alex and his team had landed in a sprawling parking area on the outskirts of the city. It was chosen for its spacious area. Most of the drop troops would be able to land here. They were surrounded by buildings, some dozens of storeys high, but all empty.
Within a few seconds, Alex would be joined by several dozen soldiers. What had been an area of the city devoid of human life for a few days or weeks would soon be bustling with armoured warriors, with Alex and his team spearheading Outremer’s efforts against their invaders.

Outremer, planetside. City outskirts. Condition unknown.
-------

Serin and Clara both clambered into the back of the waiting dropship, squeezing past the artefact mounting to sit in hot seats. The gunny entered last, shouting orders as he strapped in and locked a bulky shotgun into the slot beside him

Clara checked the clock - two minutes to FTL exit. Engine noise in the hangar grew to a thunderous roar. When Serin addressed her, Clara tapped her ear and mouthed I CAN’T HEAR YOU. Serin switched to her neural implant.

“Run through the plan again. I want to make sure you remembered it.”

“Serin, I have near perfect recall on both imagery and verbal data. If you want, I can recite the serial number of the pad you showed me Outremer’s topography on.”

“No thanks. Humour me with the plan, please.” Serin looked nervous inside her helmet. Clara suspected the NID operator wasn’t happy with the ‘fast and loose’ nature of their mission. It had all come about so quickly; they hadn’t been scheduled to approach Outremer for another two weeks.

But when the planetary administration made contact with an unidentified species that quickly turned out to be hostile, the mission became the Naval Intelligence Division's top priority. Initial reports had postulated that the device they were being sent to retrieve contained charts which looked suspiciously like Outer Systems fleet movements and planet positions.

Clara was almost certain the Outremer lab technicians assigned to study the device had no idea what they were dealing with. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on it, despite the spine chilling threat of danger hanging over them right now.

“Fine. Once the coast is clear, we’ll land at the closest available spaceport to the device. This would be call sign OTC-33971, otherwise known as DuPont Intersystem, located in Outremer’s capital city. From there, we’ll proceed by truck to the downtown police HQ, where the device is being kept. Once we’re there, i’ll begin my initial analysis while you get me and it out of the city and back to the ship.”

“Good. Don’t forget the explosives we need to wire up to it in case we fall to the enemy.”

“I’m not planning on dying today, Serin.”

They shared a wry smile. “I’ll try my best, Clara. Just try not to shoot me in the back with the pistol I gave you.”

“FTL exit, imminent.” The Galahad’s AI chimed neatly over the engine noise.

“Hold on to your hats, ladies!” The gunnery sergeant shouted to himself.

The jump lifted them into the air, slammed them against their belts and then back into their seats at high speed. Clara immediately threw up. Her suit opened to let the refuse out, then rippled so the mess slid down onto the floor.

Almost immediately, klaxons started sounding in the hangar.

“Hangar doors opening. Launch in 30 seconds.” The ship’s AI announced.

Serin opened a secure comm link to The Galahad’s bridge.

“Captain, how are we looking?”

There was a moment’s pause before Captain Cross responded.

“I won’t lie to you ma’am, it doesn’t look good. Salient Blue Team has already launched. Find them and stick to them, they’ll know what to do. Cross, out.” He disconnected.

“Launch.” The ship’s AI announced.

Serin & Clara were pushed back into their seats again as the troop transports in Hangar 2 all left The Galahad’s Glare and headed for Outremer. The hull rattled and hummed as they entered the cold vacuum of space. The dozen people seated around the asset’s circular mount began checking their gear and making their peace.

Something about Captain Cross’s voice had unsettled Serin. What could he see? She used her NID access chain to piggyback on the fleet’s command network. Her wrist module projected a small three dimensional model of Outremer and its moon in front of her eyes. The OSN fleet appeared as blue shapes a few hundred thousand klicks from the surface. A large swarm of unidentified craft showed up in red, a quarter of the way around the planet’s orbit. Some of the dots were rapidly making their way towards the fleet.

She accessed bridge comms for one of the fleet’s vanguard ships, heavy destroyer OSN Beowulf, and listened in.

“No effect on target, ma’am.”
“Fire the MAC again.”
“Point defence vectors 2 and 3 have been disabled, boarders are-”
“Helmsman, initiate starboard helix - bring us in line with Hrothgar and Aethelred now!”
“Energy projectors impacting the engine block! Output down to 70%!”
“They’re in Engineering! Seal the bridge right-”

Serin accessed the helmet cam of Sergeant Mathias Larssen aboard the Beowulf to find him engaged in a heated firefight along with the rest of his platoon. Tall, heavily armoured humanoids lumbered through the smoke towards their position behind a stack of crates. Some were firing energy weapons and some appeared to be wielding large hammers and scythes.

“What kind of sick fucks bring blunt force weapons to a gunfight in space?” Serin muttered angrily.

The creatures could’ve passed for humans in advanced, outlandish armour if not for their guttural, throaty battle cries. They were louder than any human could produce unaided, and accessed a much larger voice range. Serin watched, transfixed, as one of the statuesque warriors rushed Larssen’s position, swatted the combat shotgun from his grasp and punched him right in the face. The camera feed disappeared.

Their transport was in the atmosphere now - Serin could feel the pressure of their re-entry fading.

“Get tactical, marines! Dupont Intersystem space port is five minutes out!” The gunnery sergeant yelled, getting data straight from the transport’s cockpit. Serin did the same, opening a scan of the immediate area, command data streaming from Dupont’s ATC tower and topside exterior cameras.

The spaceport sat on the outskirts of Outremer’s largest city, Edessa. It comprised a series of landing bays for smaller craft and outdoor landing cradles for medium sized vessels. These were connected to gleaming white terminal buildings. Districts of cheap, ugly accommodation blocks and sprawling factories surrounded it. As they came in closer, Serin could see thousands of ant-sized people running toward the space port. The blue light of energy weapons lit up the mass of bodies.

“OTC-33971, this is KRGG-19 requesting permission to dock.” the transport’s pilot opened up on the team channel

“We’re under attack! Pad 42 is free - please help us!” came the frantic reply from the ATC tower.

“Copy that. We’ll do what we can. On approach n-”

The transport hold erupted into flames. Serin could scarcely push Clara back into her seat before they were flipped upside down and yanked against their seatbelts.

“WE’RE HIT! BRACE, BRACE.” The pilot shouted as everyone started yelling and the hold filled with smoke and fire.

“GOING IN HOT, HOLD ON!” The hold was ripped apart and Serin could see grey sky and concrete flying past her before something hit her head and everything went black.

What had moments ago been a dusty hellscape of broken rubble, fire, smoke and ash had now turned into an almost opaque scene. A cloud of fine dust lingered in the air, veiling the streets, parking lot and cityscape around the Salient landing zone like a morning fog. The impact of two dozen drop pods almost simultaneously impacting the concrete had shaken the city like a colossal earthquake. Buildings shook, windows shattered, alarms blared, and no one without a helmet with a filtration system would be able to see or breathe until the dust and soot settled. Then the orchestra of gunfire reached a deafening staccato as the drop troops burst from their pods and formed a perimeter around their landing zone.

“Sierra One secured,” said Alex-317 as the battle reached its culmination. After less than two or three minutes the area immediately surrounding the Salients’ landing zone was secured. By the time the orbital shock drops had landed, the Salients had dispatched dozens of the invading aliens. Whether on the ground in front of them, or in the windows of the burning towerscape surrounding them, the Salient teams had systematically eliminated whatever threat was envisaged on their optical display, and they did so with a superhuman speed which would have astounded even the special forces who were due to follow them; men who were trained to be deployed alongside Salients and who were consciously aware of their abilities.
“Copy, Sierra One secured,” said Alex’s subcommander, Master Sergeant Lyra-192. “Hostiles dispatched, landing zone clear,” she added. She was stood atop a wrecked vehicle which looked like it may have been a utility vehicle in times of peace. Her subdued maroon armour reflected little of the firelight emitted by the battle wreckage.
“Captain Cross,” began 317 reaching for his emitter as his team efficiently combed through the wreckages of vehicles, destroyed buildings and dead bodies. MSgt. Lyra directed the rest of the team to split in to pairs and begin searching the buildings immediately surrounding them for signs of alien life. By now the shock troops had all emerged from their pods and were beginning to surge forward to their pre-designated positions. Few of them had to fire a shot, and those that did only picked off stragglers and wounded combatants. The first skirmish was over. “Landing zone is secured and the perimeter is safe for landing. Blue team is in position to oversee, over.”

“Copy, Commander, expand your perimeter as you see fit. Disembarkment of troops and materiel will begin shortly. Our orbital scans still show an extremely built up presence of enemy forces in your vicinity. The OSN Drop Troops supporting you have been tasked with clearing them out while you make your way to the package. Do what you can to assist on your way, but nothing is to slow your advance. Forward with all haste, Commander. Support will be landing soon. They have their objective, you and your team have yours’. Get to it. Out.” Captain Cross, aboard the OSN Galahad’s Glare, was overseeing the disembarkation of thousands of troops and hundreds of thousands of tons of materiel to the ground. While the main fleet was engaged with the enemy, the supporting fleet was to unload their cargo with as much haste as they could muster before they were beset upon. The battleships and cruisers would hold the enemy for as long as they could, but according to the audio on the command channel it seemed to Cross that it would be a holding action from the very beginning. They could hit hard, but they wouldn’t be able to be hit back much in return before they began to crumble. The ground forces would have to find their quarry soon. More than they realised would depend upon it.

Alex nodded in response to Cross, reloading his rifle while in the cover of a wrecked vehicle. Another Salient knelt near him, keeping track of the icons on his visual map to see where the recently landed troops had advanced to. Only a few minutes had passed since the initial assault, but already a few hundred metres of ground had been cleared. The shock troops were consummate professionals and ruthlessly efficient in clearing buildings and roads. The rest of the Blue Team had been accompanying them. The Salients didn’t have time to check individual buildings, and directed their subordinate troops to check and clear while they head towards their objective with singular purpose.

Was that a dog barking at her? Clara vaguely remembered the family dog, Titan, dying in his sleep a while ago, so it couldn’t be him. The yapping growl sounded angry and stressed. She tried to open her eyes but found it an impossible effort. Her mouth tasted of metal and her tongue hurt. She smelled smoke and something else; a chemical from her science class days?

As recent memories of before the crash started to reemerge, Clara’s heart jumped into her mouth. She wasn’t back at home on the farm. She was on Outremer. Giving it everything she had, Clara groggily opened her eyes. Colourful shapes danced and blurred together; she blinked a few times to focus them.

Eventually she made out the cargo bay of the drop ship she’d left the Galahad’s Glare in. Smoke filled the open space, swirling around the mount created for the asset. Flames licked through the crumpled door into the cockpit and from service panels in the floor.

The dog started yapping again to her right, closer this time. Clara tried to turn her head toward the cargo bay doors, but couldn’t move at all.

“Impact lock is activated. Do you want to disable?”

“Y--y-yes.” Clara managed to stutter.

She immediately slumped forward against her seatbelt and her arms shot in front of her face. She realised the ship was on it’s side, with her and Serin now sat facing the ground.

Serin!

Clara awkwardly tilted her head to see if she was okay. Serin’s arms and legs were hung in front of her as well, and blood dripped from her lips.
“Serin!” Clara choked. She saw the ONI agent’s fingers twitch inside her suit.

Behind Serin, light spilled in from the cargo bay opening. A shape Clara’s mind thought was a big shard of metal let out a piercing shriek and rushed forward.

Through the smoke she made out a short, stocky creature with beady eyes, encased in an unwieldy exo suit. It looked up at her as she hung in the air, then let off several energy bursts from a device it held.

Clara screamed as the burst splashed against her overshield, vibrating her whole body and setting shrill alarms ringing in her ears.

“Shield depleting. Please find cover.” Her suit announced levelly.

“Someone help!” Clara shouted on an open channel, frantically kicking her legs and struggling with her harness.

The thing below her let out what might have been a laugh, and carried on firing.

It let off three more shots before a much louder report sounded outside the crashed ship. The alien crumpled over sideways, it’s weapon now firing on repeat into the cockpit door.

Clara looked up from the clasp of her harness and saw another shape in the cargo doorway.

“Anyone alive in there?” A voice shouted.

“Yes, please help us!” Clara called.

The shape slowly came towards her through the smoke. It was a man wearing a bullet proof vest over a black business suit. He had his hand over his mouth to protect from the smoke but Clara could see a shock of blond hair. He briefly surveyed the damage around him before seeing her on the ceiling.

“Hold on, i’ll get you down.”

“Get her first, she’s unconscious and needs to get out of this smoke.” Clara commanded, pointing to Serin’s limp form.

“Yes ma’am.” The man replied sheepishly, obviously grinning beneath his hand.