I slowly woke to the sound of a soft, electronic mechanical voice calling out a name: "Wake up, Arthur, wake up, Arthur." The voice repeated the name in a rhythmic cadence, pulling me from unconsciousness. My eyes fluttered open, greeted not by sunlight or the open air, but by the dim glow of small lights scattered across a dark interior. The space around me was enclosed—circular, almost spherical, with panels and consoles illuminated in faint hues.
I was in a chair. No, it wasn't just a chair; it was a pilot's seat. Consoles surrounded me, their displays flickering faintly. My hands rested naturally on control levers, as though they belonged there. My grip tightened instinctively, and a strange sense of familiarity washed over me. Somehow, this felt…right. My feet rested against pedals that were perfectly placed, as though they were designed just for me.
I turned my head, taking in more of the room. The spherical cockpit felt safe, almost comforting, though I couldn't explain why. My mind raced, searching for answers to questions I didn't even know how to ask. How did I know this was a mobile suit? Why did the thought of piloting one bring me solace? Lifting my hand to my face, I intended to rub my temples—only to feel something hard and unyielding.
A visor.
My fingers explored further, gliding over the contours of a helmet. Realizing what I was wearing, I moved my hands down to inspect my body. A pilot suit—sleek, functional, and oddly familiar. Its primary colors were a stark white and black, with accents of grey and crimson red. Details of the suit's design flickered through my mind. Federation standard issue, yet with Neo-Zeon influences. How did I know that? Why did it matter?
"Arthur, Arthur, wake up!" The voice cut through my thoughts. My gaze shifted to the source of the sound. Embedded into the right side of the console was a small, spherical AI unit. Its black, red, and white exterior glowed faintly, and its green eyes blinked rhythmically as it repeated my name.
"Arthur," I murmured, the name feeling strange yet somehow…familiar. Was that my name?
The Haro—for some reason, I knew that's what it was called—hopped slightly in its cradle, and its side panels on top began flapping in excitement. "You're awake! You're awake!" it chirped.
"Hey, little guy, is that my name?" My voice felt strained, like I'd never used it before. I asked the cheery Haro unit. Reaching out, I picked up the little ball of excitement from its cradle and brought it closer to me.
"Affirmative, affirmative, affirmative." Its side panels flapped like wings in excitement.
Before I could respond, a soft groan broke through the quiet hum of the cockpit. My head snapped to the left. There was another person here. They were also in a pilot suit similar to mine, but the colors were different, with the main colors being white, green, and yellow highlights. I noticed the curves of the suit—the figure was definitely female. She was slumped against the far side of the cockpit, her helmeted head resting awkwardly against the wall. "Hey," I called out, my voice hoarse. "Are you okay?"
The woman stirred at the sound of my voice. Slowly, she raised her hands to remove her helmet. The locks released with a faint hiss, and she pulled it off, revealing long, almost waist-length light green hair that floated in the air behind her. Her golden eyes blinked open, unfocused at first but gradually sharpening as they met mine. She was beautiful, and seeing her face brought a wave of recognition, though I couldn't place why. Who was she?
She brushed her hair out of her face, her expression wary yet curious. "Where…where am I?" she asked, her voice soft but steady. "Who are you?"
The questions mirrored my own thoughts. I shook my head. "I don't know. I think my name is Arthur. At least, that's what it—" I gestured toward Haro. "—keeps calling me."
Her eyes darted to Haro, then back to me. She frowned, her confusion evident. "Arthur…" she repeated, as though testing the name. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, and a flicker of recognition passed through her expression.
"Do I…know you?" she asked cautiously.
I hesitated, staring at her. The same question was on the tip of my tongue. I felt like I knew her, but I couldn't say why. "I think so," I admitted. "But I don't know how."
The Haro interjected cheerfully, "Memory loss detected! Memory loss detected!" It began spinning in place, its voice taking on a playful tone. "Must recover data! Must recover data!"
"Do you know where we are?" she asked me.
"I know we are in a mobile suit, and I think we are also in space."
The woman sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Great," she muttered. "We're both lost and now we're stuck in a tin can with an overeager talking ball."
Despite the situation, a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Could be worse," I said.
Her golden eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, the confusion and unease faded. "Yeah," she agreed quietly. "Could be worse."
"Incoming message, incoming message, incoming message," Haro announced from my lap.
Looking down at Haro, I saw it open up horizontally, revealing a keyboard on its bottom half and a screen on its top half. I felt the girl float next to me as she looked down at Haro's transformation into a computer.
"Umm…sorry, I never did ask your name," I said, looking at her and meeting her golden eyes.
"It's C.C. Or C2. Doesn't really matter to me, but that's what I go by."
When she said her name, I was overwhelmed with pain in my head. It felt like a thousand needles were being plunged into my brain as memories about C.C. came crashing down onto me.
I think I blacked out a couple of times. Soon, I felt hands gently holding my cheeks. Opening my blurry eyes, I saw tears floating in the zero-G environment and strands of red hair drifting in front of me. The gentle touch on my face brought me back to reality, and I found myself staring at C.C. Two helmets floated behind her, and I realized she must have removed mine while I was in pain.
Looking at her face, I couldn't discern any expression, but her eyes gave her away. I could see the concern in them.
"Thank you." I croaked out the pain in my head still there.
C.C. simply node and move to the side of me, her eyes still looking at me.
We sat there in comfortable silence in the cockpit of the Mobil suit humming softly around me, the ambient sounds of the machine oddly calming. My hands adjusted instinctively to the controls, though my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. Then Haro's cheerful beeping interrupted my mental scramble.
"Incoming transmission! Incoming transmission!" Haro chirped, spinning excitedly on my lap as if this was the best news in the galaxy.
"Great, what now?" I muttered under my breath, glaring at the flickering screen in front of me. Beside me, C.C. lounged in the co-pilot seat, her posture relaxed but her golden eyes gleaming with curiosity.
The screen flickered to life, and a synthesized voice with a tone bordering on mocking greeted me. "Congratulations, Arthur Leywin! You've won the cosmic lottery… or rather, lost it spectacularly. Welcome to your new life!"
I blinked at the screen, then shot a glance at C.C., whose arched eyebrow matched my bafflement. "Cosmic lottery? Is that what we're calling this mess?" I said.
"Indeed," the voice continued, dripping with amusement. "You, dear Arthur, were such a magnet for chaos in your past life that the goddess couldn't resist. You were handpicked, reincarnated, and given the chance to spin fate's wheel. The good news? You've received incredible perks, like the Battle Operation System and your very own custom mobile suit. The bad news? Well, you lost your memories. Consider it… balancing the scales."
C.C. snorted. "Balancing the scales? Sounds more like cosmic irony."
The voice ignored her, pressing on. "The Battle Operation System is your personal hub for assignments and rewards. Complete missions, earn points and redeem them for resources, upgrades, and even personnel. Think of it as your all-in-one survival guide in this universe. Oh, and congratulations on your free champion pull… C.C."
"Champion pull?" C.C. echoed, her irritation unmistakable. "I am not some reward to be collected."
I smirked, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I don't make the rules."
Haro's screen sprang to life, displaying a holographic interface that looked both advanced and oddly intuitive. Categories like Supplies, Weapons, Ships, and Personnel blinked brightly, enticing me to explore.
"Points system! Earn points by completing missions! Redeem points for cool stuff! Let's try it!" Haro buzzed, clearly enthusiastic.
I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "How about we survive first?"
The synthesized voice, unbothered by my lack of enthusiasm, continued. "Now, let's talk about your current ride, the MS-14J/BR Gelgoog Vertex. Designed by you in your… more coherent days, this mobile suit is a hybrid marvel. Heavily modified with Federation and Zeon tech, it features:
Psycho-Frame Integration
Luna Titanium/Gundarium Alloy Construction
GN-Drive Engine with Minovsky Particle and Ahab Reactor Augmentation
Advanced Weaponry, including a Beam Smart Gun, Funnels, Beam Sabers, and more
My eyes scanned the schematic on the console, taking in the sheer complexity of the design. Something about it tugged at the edges of my mind, a flicker of memory too faint to fully grasp. "I… remember working on this," I muttered.
C.C. tilted her head, her long green hair catching the faint light of the cockpit. "Working on it? So you were an engineer?"
"Maybe," I said, frowning as the memory slipped away like water through my fingers. "It's just… familiar."
Before I could dive further into my fractured thoughts, Haro beeped with urgency. "First mission! First mission!"
The screen shifted, displaying the operation details:
Battle Operation: Eden Prime Defense
Objective 1: Assist the small defense fleet in holding back Geth ships until the fleet can retreat.
Bonus Objective: Keep at least 50% of the fleet intact.
Bonus Objective: Destroy a significant portion of the Geth fleet.
Objective 2: Descend to Eden Prime and assist ground forces in repelling Geth invaders.
Bonus Objective: Aid in the civilian evacuation.
Objective 3: Strike a blow against Sovereign.
I groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "That's a lot to take in."
C.C., ever the picture of calm, leaned back and crossed her legs. "Looks like we're diving straight into the deep end. What's the timer say?"
Haro's screen displayed a countdown: 6:00:00.
"Six hours," I said, exhaling sharply. "Great. Plenty of time to… panic."
C.C. smirked. "Or strategize. But panicking sounds more your style."
Despite myself, I chuckled. "So what's your story, C.C.? How does an immortal end up in my… champion pull?"
She shrugged, her tone casual but her gaze sharp. "Let's just say I've been dragged into worse situations. At least this one has a nice view."
I raised an eyebrow, gesturing at the cockpit around us. "This? You call this a nice view?"
She rolled her eyes. "I was talking about the stars, idiot."
We lapsed into a comfortable silence, the tension easing slightly as the weight of the mission loomed ahead. My hands hovered over the controls, my mind racing. Whatever awaited us on Eden Prime, I had a sinking feeling it was only the beginning.
The cockpit of the Gelgoog Vertex hummed faintly, the gentle vibrations keeping me anchored in the present. I leaned back in my chair, eyes flickering between the glowing monitors that seemed to be taunting me with their silence. C.C. sat across from me, her usual unbothered demeanor infuriatingly intact. She was reclining with her arms crossed, golden eyes watching me like a cat observing a particularly clumsy mouse.
"Alright," I said, exhaling sharply, "we need a plan. Any ideas?"
C.C. raised an eyebrow. "You're asking me? Shouldn't you, oh fearless leader, have a brilliant strategy ready?"
"I'd love to, but there's just one problem," I shot back. "I have no idea what the hell a Geth even is. Do you?"
She shrugged lazily. "Not a clue. But I'm sure they're just as charming as their name suggests."
I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. "Great. Just great. So we're supposed to fight something we know nothing about, on a planet we've never been to, with stakes high enough to make even you pay attention."
C.C. smirked. "I'm always paying attention. You just never notice."
Before I could respond, Haro's cheerful beeping cut through the tension. "Signals detected! Signals detected! Nearby comm buoys active!"
I blinked, leaning forward. "Wait, you're picking up comm traffic?"
"Affirmative! Affirmative!" Haro chirped, spinning slightly in place.
C.C. glanced at me, skepticism etched on her face. "You're not seriously thinking of hacking into their systems, are you?"
"Probably not a great idea," I admitted, then grinned. "But what choice do we have?"
Her golden eyes narrowed. "How long do you think—"
"All done! All done!" Haro interrupted, its voice triumphant.
Both C.C. and I stared at the little robot. "Wait, you're done already?" I asked, incredulous.
"No problem! No problem!" Haro replied. The console lit up with a flurry of data streams and logs, the sheer amount of information making my head spin.
C.C. leaned forward, scanning the screen. "This feels like a bad idea."
"Feels like a great idea to me," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Let's see what we've got."
The codex entries appeared first, providing a wealth of information about the galaxy's history, the races, and, most importantly, the Geth. I skimmed through the details, my initial curiosity giving way to frustration.
"Are you kidding me?" I muttered, slamming a hand on the armrest. "Humanity screws up first contact so badly that they end up as second-class citizens in the galaxy? How does that even happen?"
C.C. gave me a look. "Humans aren't exactly known for their tact."
"Yeah, but this?" I gestured at the screen, where the codex was detailing humanity's missteps. "They're lucky they weren't wiped out entirely. And the Geth? AI rebellion… really? Who thought giving synthetic lifeforms free will without safeguards was a good idea?"
C.C. shrugged, a faint smile playing on her lips. "It's not entirely surprising. Hubris tends to bite back."
I rubbed my temples. "Okay, fine. But you'd think they'd learn from their mistakes. Instead, they've doubled down on being stubborn and shortsighted. It's… it's infuriating."
"You sound like you've got a personal stake in this," C.C. said, her tone teasing but with a hint of genuine curiosity.
"Maybe I do," I muttered, the fragmented memories stirring uneasily in the back of my mind. "It's just… frustrating. There are so many better ways they could have handled this."
She nodded, surprising me. "I'll give you that. There's a lot of stupidity here, but that doesn't mean we can afford to underestimate the Geth. They're not just some mindless machines."
I leaned back, exhaling sharply. "Alright. So we know the Geth are dangerous, and humanity's got a talent for shooting itself in the foot. That doesn't exactly scream confidence for our mission."
"It just means we'll have to be smart about this," C.C. said, her voice calm but firm. "Wing it if you want, but don't expect me to bail you out if you get in over your head."
"Noted," I replied with a smirk. "But admit it, you'd miss me if I weren't around."
She rolled her eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, Arthur."
Haro beeped again, snapping us out of our banter. "Geth data detected! Would you like to know more?"
"Definitely," I said, leaning forward. "Show us everything you've got."
As Haro brought up tactical data, fleet movements, and planetary maps, I felt a growing sense of urgency. The mission ahead was daunting, but with the right plan and a little luck, we might just have a shot.
C.C. glanced at me, her expression unreadable. "Still think winging it's a good idea?"
I grinned. "Always. But maybe I'll listen to you this time. Maybe."
She rolled her eyes again, but there was a faint smile on her lips. For now, it seemed, we were as ready as we could be.
The cockpit of the Gelgoog Vertex was a hive of activity, the hum of the systems filling the silence as I stared at the countdown clock: 00:30:00. Thirty minutes to go until the mission. My nerves buzzed, but I kept my hands steady on the controls, glancing at Haro as it spun happily on the dashboard.
"We've got thirty minutes to make some magic happen," I muttered. "Haro, send a warning signal to the Alliance. Let them know what's coming."
"Signal sent! Signal sent!" Haro chirped, its voice far too cheerful for the situation.
C.C., lounging in her seat with an air of casual indifference, arched a brow. "And what exactly do you think that'll accomplish? Assuming they don't just ignore some random signal, what makes you think they'll actually trust it?"
"They don't have to trust it," I replied, leaning back. "They just have to be paranoid enough to check it out. A little preparation is better than none."
"Fair point," she said, her golden eyes narrowing. "But what's the plan when we get down there? We're going in blind, you realize that, right?"
"Blind's the only way I know how to do things," I said with a smirk. "Besides, Haro's picking up all sorts of chatter. We'll use that to our advantage."
"Advantage," she repeated, her tone dripping with skepticism. "You're planning to fly into the middle of an enemy fleet with a machine they've never seen before and hope for the best? Ambitious."
I grinned. "You've got a better idea?"
She sighed, clearly unimpressed. "Just try not to get yourself killed. I'd hate to have gone through all this trouble for nothing."
Haro's voice piped up, interrupting our back-and-forth. "Particles ready! GN-Drive calibrated! Warning: GN-Particles will affect nearby ships!"
"Define 'affect,'" I said, already dreading the answer.
"Interference with targeting systems, communications, and basic operations! Allies may experience disruption too!" Haro announced cheerfully.
C.C. pinched the bridge of her nose. "So not only will we mess with the Geth, but we'll also make life harder for the Alliance fleet. Wonderful."
"It's not ideal," I admitted, "but it's a double-edged sword we can use. The Geth relies heavily on tech. If their systems are scrambled, that gives us an edge."
"And if the Alliance decides you're a bigger threat than the Geth?" she asked, her voice calm but pointed.
"Then we'll just have to convince them otherwise," I said. "Preferably before they start shooting at us."
C.C. leaned back, watching me with an expression I couldn't quite place. "You're either very brave or very stupid."
"Probably both," I admitted with a chuckle. "But hey, if it works, we'll look like geniuses."
The timer ticked down, the seconds feeling like hours as Haro continued to prepare the Vertex for launch. I could feel the weight of the mission pressing down on me, but I pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.
"Alright, Haro," I said, gripping the controls. "What's our status?"
"All systems green! GN-Particles at full capacity! Gelgoog Vertex is ready to deploy!" Haro chirped, spinning excitedly.
I glanced at C.C., who was now sitting upright, her golden eyes sharp and alert. "You ready for this?"
She gave me a small smirk. "I'm always ready. The question is, are you?"
I grinned, feeling a surge of adrenaline. "Guess we'll find out."
As the countdown hit 00:10:00, the Gelgoog Vertex shifted into position, its sleek frame illuminated by the soft glow of the GN-Particles. Outside, the vast expanse of space loomed, the enemy fleet just a blip on the horizon.
"Here we go," I muttered, my heart pounding. "Time to make some noise."
"Just try not to get us both killed," C.C. said dryly, her tone laced with just enough warmth to make me smile.
With a final nod, I activated the thrusters, the Gelgoog Vertex surging forward. The battle ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: we were going to make an impression, one way or another.
Captain Shawn(POV)
The bridge of the SSV Boston hummed with quiet efficiency. Officers moved between stations, their voices low but tense. I stood near the center, watching the holographic tactical display with narrowed eyes. Sixteen ships, including mine, made up the entirety of the defense fleet for Eden Prime. It wasn't much, but it was what we had. And now we had a warning of an incoming attack.
"Captain," my comms officer, Lieutenant Grayson, called out. "We've received a transmission. It's... unusual."
I turned to him, frowning. "Define unusual, Lieutenant."
"Anonymous source. There's no way to trace it, sir. But it's a warning about an enemy attack. It came with a countdown."
"A countdown to what?" I asked, crossing the distance to his station.
Grayson hesitated. "Unknown. It could be when the enemy fleet arrives or when the attack begins. We're not sure."
I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. This was odd. "Play the message."
Grayson nodded and tapped a few commands. The message was brief but chilling:
"Enemy fleet inbound. Prepare for engagement. Countdown initiated."
The display showed a timer steadily ticking down: 00:31:47.
"Damn it," I muttered. "Do we have any idea who sent this?"
"None, sir. But it's not Alliance protocol, that's for sure."
I stepped back, letting the weight of the situation settle. My gut told me this wasn't a prank or a distraction. Not with the Promethean beacon we just uncovered. The council and command wanted it delivered to the Citadel for study, hoping it would finally earn humanity a seat on the Council. Fat chance of that happening. But if this warning was real, the beacon—and Eden Prime—were in danger.
"Helm, maintain our position," I ordered. "Lieutenant Grayson, alert the rest of the fleet. I want all ships in a defensive formation immediately. Notify the ground forces to prepare for a planetary invasion."
Grayson's fingers flew over his console. "Aye, Captain. Sending orders now."
"Tactical, get me an assessment of our fleet's readiness," I continued. "And comms, patch me through to the nearest patrol fleet."
"Yes, sir," said Ensign Patel, my communications officer.
As the bridge crew moved to carry out my orders, I stared at the tactical display. Sixteen ships. Ten cruisers, five frigates, and my fleet carrier. Against what? We had no idea what we were up against, and that made it worse. My thoughts kept circling back to the beacon. Could this be about that? Were we about to lose something that could change humanity's place in the galaxy forever?
"Captain," Patel called, pulling me from my thoughts. "We have the patrol fleet on the line."
"Put them through," I said, straightening.
A gruff voice came over the speakers. "This is Commander Briggs of the SSV Lexington. Captain Shawn, what's going on over there?"
"Commander," I began, "we've received an anonymous warning of an imminent enemy attack on Eden Prime. I'm requesting immediate reinforcements."
There was a pause before Briggs replied. "Do you have any proof of this attack, or is this just a hunch?"
"The warning came with a countdown," I said. "I can't verify its authenticity, but I'm not willing to take the risk. We need backup, Commander. Now."
Briggs sighed. "Understood. We'll head your way, but it'll take some time."
Before I could respond, the comms went dead.
"Patel," I snapped. "What happened?"
"I don't know, sir," she said, her hands flying over the console. "The signal just... cut off."
"Captain," Lieutenant Harrington, my tactical officer, called out urgently. "We've got an incoming report from one of our frigates."
"On screen," I ordered.
The face of Commander Hayes, the captain of the SSV Polaris, appeared. He looked pale. "Sir, we've got a situation. A massive enemy fleet is approaching Eden Prime. Count forty-eight vessels. Sensors identify them as Geth ships."
The blood drained from my face. "Geth? What the hell are they doing outside the Perseus Veil? They haven't been seen in over three centuries."
"I don't know, sir," Hayes said grimly. "But I think we both know why they're here. It's the beacon."
I clenched my fists. "Damn it. Send word to the surface. Tell them to prepare for a planetary invasion. And get back to your position. We're going to need every ship we've got."
"Understood, sir," Hayes said, his image flickering out.
I turned to my crew. "You heard him. The Geth are here, and they're coming for the beacon. I want all ships in formation and ready to engage. This is going to be a fight for the history books, people. Let's make sure we're on the right side of it."
A chorus of acknowledgments filled the bridge as the crew sprang into action. I took my seat, gripping the armrests tightly. The timer on the screen continued its relentless countdown. Whatever was about to happen, we'd face it head-on. Eden Prime—and humanity—was depending on us.
The countdown on the tactical screen ticked steadily downward, each second seeming to drag longer than the last. Five minutes. Five minutes until the enemy fleet would be in extreme range of our mass accelerator cannons. At least now we knew what the timer was for.
"Scan the enemy fleet," I ordered, keeping my voice steady. "I want numbers, classes, everything."
"Aye, sir," came the prompt reply from the sensor officer. A moment later, the data flooded onto the main screen: one dreadnought, twenty-four cruisers, twenty frigates, and three troop transports.
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a slow breath. "Damn. That's a hell of a force to bring against Eden Prime."
"Should we be relieved they think we're worth this much effort?" my XO, Commander Jensen, said dryly.
"Relieved or terrified?" I countered. "Take your pick. Either way, we've got a job to do."
The timer hit two minutes.
"Gunnery," I said, "begin charging weapons. Comms broadcast a message to the enemy fleet."
"Message is ready, sir," the comms officer confirmed.
I nodded. "Geth fleet, you are trespassing in Alliance space. Turn around immediately or we will open fire."
The message repeated on all known frequencies, but there was no response from the enemy.
"Typical," I muttered. "Flight deck, all fighters on standby. I want them ready to deploy the moment we engage."
"Understood, sir," the flight officer responded.
As the timer ticked to zero, I opened my mouth to give the order to fire—but a shout from the sensor station stopped me short.
"New contact, sir! Just appeared on radar and visual sensors!"
"What do you mean, 'just appeared'?" I demanded, swiveling my chair toward the sensor officer. "Is it friendly or hostile?"
The officer's hands flew over the console. "Unknown, sir. It's moving fast—really fast. It's coming from above, heading down into the enemy formation."
"Get me a scan on that contact!" I ordered.
"Trying, sir, but the scanners can't lock on. There's too much interference!"
"Then get me a visual," I barked.
The main screen shifted, and for a moment, all we could see was a streak of crimson light cutting through the blackness of space. It moved like nothing I'd ever seen, faster and more precise than any ship or fighter.
"What in the hell is that?" Commander Jensen murmured, voicing what we were all thinking.
Before anyone could respond, a pink beam lanced out from the streaking object. It struck one of the enemy cruisers dead-center. The beam pierced through the hull effortlessly, exiting the other side in a burst of fire and debris. The ship exploded violently, a cloud of pink smoke and shrapnel marking where it had been.
"Enemy cruiser destroyed!" Tactical called out, his voice a mix of shock and awe.
For a moment, the bridge was silent, everyone staring at the screen in disbelief.
"Magnify that visual," I ordered, forcing myself to stay focused.
The image zoomed in once, twice, three times before the object came into clearer view. My breath caught in my throat. It wasn't a ship. It was a mech—a giant humanoid machine, painted primarily red with black, white, and grey highlights. Even through the static, I could make out some details: the rifle it held in one hand, shaped like an oversized AK-47 with a bayonet attachment; the shield in its other hand, emblazoned with a red unicorn symbol within a V-shaped design.
"What the hell am I looking at?" I muttered.
"Sir!" Tactical shouted. "The mech just fired its rifle. Three shots—direct hits on the enemy formation. Two frigates and another cruiser destroyed!"
"That… thing is tearing through them like paper," Jensen said, his voice low.
I snapped out of my daze. "Get me everything we've got on that mech. Scans, telemetry, anything!"
"Scanners still can't lock on, sir," the sensor officer said, frustration clear in his tone.
"Then keep trying," I said sharply. "Comms, hail the mech. I want to know who the hell is piloting it."
"Attempting to hail, sir," the comms officer replied, though he didn't sound optimistic.
The mech continued its relentless assault, weaving through the enemy formation with an agility that defied its size. Each shot from its rifle was precise, devastating—and unmistakably intentional.
"Enemy ships are scattering, sir!" Tactical reported. "They're trying to regroup."
"Of course they are," I muttered. "They've never seen anything like this before. Hell, neither have we."
The comms officer looked up, shaking his head. "No response from the mech, sir."
I clenched my fists, watching as the mysterious red machine continued its rampage. Whoever was piloting it, they were turning the tide of this battle single-handedly. But questions burned in my mind: Where had it come from? Was it friend or foe? And, perhaps most troubling of all, what was its true purpose here?
"Keep monitoring its movements," I ordered. "And keep trying to establish contact. If this thing's on our side, I want to know. If it's not…"
Jensen gave me a sidelong glance. "If it's not?"
I exhaled heavily, my gaze fixed on the screen. "Then we're going to have a whole new problem on our hands."