While the doctors worked to stabilize Max, Ninja stepped out of the medical bay. The corridor's air was cold, sterile, and silent—an uneasy contrast to the chaos inside. He leaned against the wall, pressing his palm to his temple. The throbbing pain that had been gnawing at him since their escape had worsened, radiating in waves that blurred his vision and made it hard to think.
They had survived, but at what cost?
The memory of the Skeld burning against the backdrop of endless space flickered through his mind. The cries of his crewmates still echoed faintly in his ears. Ninja shook his head, willing the images away. There was no time for grief—not when so much still hung in the balance.
Footsteps broke his reverie. He looked up to see Jean approaching, his face still streaked with tears and his shoulders slumped in exhaustion. Jean stopped a few paces away, hesitant, as if unsure whether to speak.
"You should rest," Jean said quietly. His voice was raw, and his bloodshot eyes betrayed how close he was to breaking.
Ninja shook his head. "No time. Max isn't out of the woods yet, and Ryan's falling apart. We have to keep moving."
Jean hesitated, his hands fidgeting nervously. "What are we supposed to say to him? About Lena? About everyone?"
Ninja opened his eyes, meeting Jean's gaze. The younger man's fear and guilt were written plainly on his face. Ninja took a slow breath. "The truth. We owe them that much."
Jean's shoulders slumped further, and he looked away. "The truth isn't enough. Not for something like this."
"Maybe not," Ninja admitted, his tone firm but not unkind. "But it's all we have."
They stood in silence for a long moment, the faint hum of the ship's systems filling the void between them. Finally, Jean spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think it ever stops? The loss?"
"No," Ninja said, his voice steady despite the pain gnawing at him. "But you learn to carry it."
Jean nodded, though his expression was far from convinced. "Ryan's not going to take it well."
"No one does," Ninja replied. He straightened, forcing himself to push through the ache in his skull. His vision swam for a moment, but he ignored it. There were bigger battles ahead.
As they turned to head back to the medical bay, Jean glanced at him sideways. "You don't look so good. You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," Ninja said automatically, though the tightening grip he kept on the wall betrayed his words. The pain in his head was a constant drumbeat now, but he shoved it aside.
When they entered the medical bay, the air felt heavier, laden with the low hum of machines and the quiet murmurs of doctors. Ryan was seated by Max's bedside, his back to the door. His shoulders were hunched, his head bowed, his hands gripping Max's limp arm.
Ninja and Jean exchanged a glance. The tension between them was palpable, both knowing the weight of what they had to say. Finally, Ninja stepped forward.
"Ryan," Ninja began, his voice steady but heavy with the burden of the truth.
Ryan didn't look up immediately. When he did, his face was a mask of anguish. His eyes were bloodshot, and his jaw clenched so tightly that the veins in his neck were visible. "How is he?" Ryan asked, his voice barely audible.
"The doctors are doing everything they can," Ninja replied. He stepped closer, his gaze softening. "But we need to talk about—"
"Lena."
Ryan's voice cracked on her name, and the single word hung in the air like a physical weight. He turned to face them fully, his eyes pleading. "Where is she? Why isn't she here with you? Did… did you see her?"
Jean froze, his expression crumbling as he struggled to form words. He looked helplessly at Ninja, who stepped in, his voice calm but firm. "Ryan…"
Ryan's gaze darted between them, and the flicker of hope in his eyes dimmed. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No, don't say it. Don't you dare."
"She didn't make it," Ninja said, his voice even but filled with quiet sorrow. "I'm sorry."
Ryan staggered back as if the words had physically struck him. His breathing grew erratic, and he clutched the edge of the bed for support. "No… you're lying. She's not gone! She can't be!"
"Ryan, listen to me—" Ninja began, but Ryan cut him off.
"Why didn't you save her?" Ryan's voice rose, his grief transforming into fury. He glared at Ninja, his fists clenched. "You're supposed to be the best! The one who doesn't fail! So why? Why her?"
Ninja stood still, his expression calm but pained. "We did everything we could," he said quietly. "But the situation was… impossible. She fought, Ryan. To the very end."
Ryan's chest heaved as he tried to process the words. He turned away, his fists trembling at his sides. "You don't understand," he muttered. "You didn't know her like I did. She wasn't supposed to… she wasn't supposed to leave me."
Jean stepped forward hesitantly. "Ryan… we all cared about her. She was one of us. This isn't something we'll ever forget."
But Ryan didn't respond. He sank into the chair by Max's side, his face buried in his hands. His sobs were muffled but still audible, a raw, guttural sound that echoed through the room.
Ninja placed a hand on Jean's shoulder and gestured for him to step outside. The two of them exited the bay, leaving Ryan alone with his grief.
---
Jean leaned against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "I can't do this," he said, his voice trembling. "I can't keep watching people fall apart like this. First Lena, now Ryan… it's too much."
Ninja leaned against the opposite wall, his eyes closed. The pounding in his head was relentless, and he was certain now that it wasn't just exhaustion. Something was wrong, but he couldn't afford to deal with it yet. "It doesn't get easier," he said quietly. "But if we let it break us, what's the point of surviving?"
Jean shook his head. "You make it sound so simple. Like all of this can just… be handled."
"It's not simple," Ninja replied, his tone sharper now. "But we don't have a choice. Ryan's grief isn't the only problem we're facing. Max is still critical. We don't know what's waiting for us after this. If we fall apart now, we won't make it."
Jean opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of the medical bay doors opening interrupted him. Ryan emerged, his eyes red and swollen. He stopped a few steps away from them, his posture stiff.
"I'm not done," Ryan said, his voice hoarse but resolute. "I'll grieve for Lena, but not now. Right now, I need answers. I need to know what happened out there."
Ninja nodded slowly. "We'll debrief soon. For now, focus on Max. He's still alive, and we'll need him."
Ryan's jaw tightened, but he said nothing more. He turned and walked away, his steps heavy but purposeful.
Jean watched him go, then turned back to Ninja. "Do you think he'll be okay?"
"No," Ninja said honestly. "But he'll fight through it. We all will."
As the corridor fell silent again, Ninja leaned back against the wall, his hand pressing to his temple. The pain flared again, sharper this time, and for a moment, his vision blurred completely. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay upright.
Jean noticed, his brow furrowing. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," Ninja replied automatically, though his voice lacked conviction. He pushed off the wall, steadying himself. "We need to keep moving. There's still work to do."
"How do you do it, Ninja?" Jean asked, "How do you keep moving forward?"
Ninja finally looked at him, his expression unreadable. "You don't stop," he said simply. "Even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts."
Jean nodded, though his eyes remained clouded with doubt. "I don't know if I can."
"You can," Ninja said firmly. "You don't have a choice."
---
Later, Ninja and Jean stood before Commander Dietrich, who sat at a sleek metal desk flanked by screens displaying tactical readouts. General Cheese stood nearby, his arms crossed.
"Your report," Dietrich demanded.
Ninja recounted the events aboard the Skeld, his tone clipped and efficient. When he finished, Dietrich's expression was unreadable.
"So," Dietrich said, leaning back in his chair, "the Dark One has resurfaced. And it's stronger than before."
Ninja nodded. "We need to prepare. It won't stop with the Skeld."
Dietrich's gaze shifted to Jean, who flinched under the scrutiny. "And you, rookie? What did you learn?"
Jean hesitated, his hands clenching at his sides. "I learned that… surviving isn't enough. We have to fight. For the ones we lost. For the ones still here."
Dietrich's lips curled into a faint smile. "Good. You'll need that resolve for what comes next."
As they left the command center, Jean turned to Ninja. "Do you think we'll win?"
Ninja didn't answer immediately. He stared out at the stars, their cold light reflecting in his eyes. "I think we'll fight. And sometimes, that's all we can do."
Jean hesitated but eventually nodded. Together, they turned and walked down the corridor, and back to the medical bay; their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet halls.
---
The medical bay buzzed with tension as Commander Dietrich stood before the survivors, his posture rigid, his voice clipped and authoritative. "We need to postpone," he said firmly, his gaze sweeping over the exhausted crew. "All of you need to be thoroughly examined. It's crucial for your safety."
Jean shifted uneasily, glancing at Ryan, whose expression remained locked in a storm of grief and anger. The room was thick with unspoken emotions, the weight of their losses pressing down on everyone like a suffocating shroud.
Before anyone could respond, a sharp, echoing bang resonated through the room. The sound was startling, shattering the heavy silence. Heads whipped around, searching for the source—only to see Ninja suddenly collapse.
His body crumpled to the cold, sterile floor with a sickening thud.
"NINJA!" Jean's voice cracked as he lunged forward, dropping to his knees beside the fallen warrior.
The room erupted into chaos. Ryan was the first to reach Ninja's side, his hands trembling as he checked for a pulse. "He's unconscious… completely burnt out," Ryan muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Martin, one of the medics, pushed through the crowd, kneeling next to Ninja. His trained hands gently tilted Ninja's head, checking for signs of injury. His brows furrowed deeply as he examined the unconscious man. "It's head trauma," he said gravely, his tone professional but edged with concern. "He's in bad shape. Whatever he's been through, it's pushed him past his limit."
Jean's heart pounded as he watched Ninja's face, pale and slack, devoid of the intensity that had always defined him. His hands hovered uncertainly, unsure of how to help. "What do we do?" he asked, his voice trembling.
Commander Dietrich stepped forward, his expression darkening. He knelt beside Martin, briefly scanning Ninja's condition before standing again, his stance authoritative. "This changes everything," Dietrich declared, his voice firm and unyielding. "The mission must be postponed until he's stable. There's no way we're moving forward with our lead operative in this condition."
The weight of The Commander's words hung heavy in the air, sinking into each of them.
Ryan sat back on his heels, his hands curling into fists. "We don't have time to postpone," he said, his voice low and fierce. "If we wait too long, the Dark One will only grow stronger. We've already lost too much."
"And we'll lose more if we're reckless," Commander Dietrich countered sharply. "You think this mission can succeed without Ninja? Without the one person who's faced this enemy before?"
Ryan didn't respond, but the anger in his eyes was unmistakable.
Jean looked down at Ninja, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Memories of the Skeld's destruction flashed in his mind, of Ninja fighting relentlessly to protect them. Now, the man who had seemed invincible lay broken before him. "We can't just leave him like this," Jean murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
"We won't," Martin assured him, already signaling for a stretcher. "But he needs proper care—now."
As the medics worked quickly to lift Ninja onto the stretcher, Jean stood frozen, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. First the Skeld, then the crew, and now Ninja.
Commander Dietrich placed a firm hand on Jean's shoulder, grounding him. "Listen to me, Jean," he said, his voice steady and commanding. "You've been through hell, but this isn't over. Ninja wouldn't want you to falter now."
Jean swallowed hard, nodding despite the lump in his throat.
The stretcher rolled out of the room, Ninja's unconscious form disappearing through the doors. As the echo of the wheels faded, the remaining crew was left in a heavy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them like a physical force.
Ryan broke the silence, his voice sharp and bitter. "So, what now? We sit around and wait while the Dark One gains ground?"
The Commander's eyes narrowed, his patience thinning. "We regroup, assess, and ensure that when we strike, we do so with precision and strength. Rushing in blind won't save anyone—it'll just get more people killed."
"And how long will that take?" Ryan shot back, his frustration bubbling over. "Do you even have a plan?"
"Enough," General Cheese interjected, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He stepped forward, his usual joviality replaced with a grim seriousness. "We're all on edge, but fighting each other won't help. We've got to focus on what we can do."
Jean looked between them, his voice quiet but resolute. "What about Lena?"
The question hung in the air like a blade. Ryan stiffened, his jaw tightening.
"She—she's gone," Jean continued, his voice breaking slightly. "But if Ninja were here, he'd tell us not to let her memory be in vain. She believed in this mission, in us. We owe it to her—to all of them—to keep going."
Ryan's fists unclenched slightly, his anger giving way to sorrow. He closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. "You're right," he said at last, his voice barely audible. "But it doesn't make it any easier."
"It never does," Dietrich said quietly, his gaze distant for a moment. Then he straightened, his command tone returning. "For now, we focus on recovery and preparation. When Ninja wakes up, we'll plan our next move. Until then, I expect all of you to rest and be ready."
As the team dispersed, Jean lingered in the hallway, his thoughts racing. He glanced through the window of the medical bay, where Ninja lay hooked up to machines, his face pale but peaceful.
Jean clenched his fists, determination hardening in his chest. He didn't know how, but he would make sure they found a way forward.For Max..For Jayden..For Ninja.. For Lena.. For everyone they had lost.
---
The stars outside the station seemed cold and unfeeling, but somewhere in that vast, unforgiving expanse, their enemy waited. And Jean swore to himself they would be ready when the time came.