PROJECT: CAYRO

Captain Edwards:

September 5, 2025

07:16 CST

The Death Reckoning

50,000 feet by 30 miles northeast of Victoria TX.

For the past few minutes, I watched the crew scramble to prepare for the trajectory flight I had ordered. The atmosphere on the bridge was tense, every crewmember acutely aware of how precarious our situation had become. We had managed to get the second engine back online and operational, along with the communication systems, but the ship was still barely holding together. As soon as we re-established communications, I sent a data dump to Air Combat Command, detailing our situation in excruciating detail. The response was swift—Colonel Sirnic sent back orders approving the use of an emergency trajectory flight. He wanted us back at Langley as soon as possible, and with the Death Reckoning so badly damaged, he didn’t want us risking another encounter with the SAF. Another hit from them, and it would likely be the end of us.

With the second engine repaired, we were going to push the ship to its absolute limits as we left the atmosphere. Given the damage we had already sustained, I could only hope the ship would hold together long enough for us to make it. Every groan and creak from the damaged sections of the ship sent a shiver down my spine.

Another issue gnawing at me was the escape of Star Zaraki. The Colonel had been furious when he heard the news during my last transmission. But when I explained what little I knew about the intruder, a wicked gleam had appeared in his eye. From the information I had gathered about the boy who had recently shown up with the SAF, the Colonel and I both agreed it had to be Christopher James Bracton. He was the only explanation that made sense for what my crew had witnessed. Bracton had killed three of my men and injured another three before escaping with Zaraki. I’d sent all the data to ACC along with the medical information we had gathered on Star Zaraki, disguised as a request for assistance after the Autumn hacked our mainframe.

Our plan was simple, but bold—we would lead the Autumn to the U.S. Space Force Orion Orbital Station and use the station’s firepower to obliterate them. Not even the Autumn could withstand what the station could dish out. Ironically, both Captain Clark and Captain Bracton had a hand in its design and development. Now, it would be their undoing.

The ship finally moved into position, and the hydrogen pods were purged, causing us to lose altitude momentarily. We needed every bit of hydrogen to push us out of the atmosphere. My crew locked themselves into their stations as the alarm sounded, warning everyone aboard to prepare for trajectory flight. I gave my navigation officer a nod, signaling that we were ready. I felt the ship drop beneath me as the pod tethers broke loose, sending us into free fall. Then, with a bone-jarring force, the engines flared to life, thrusting us up through the atmosphere. The ship shook violently under the strain, loud bangs and groans echoing as damaged sections of the hull were torn away by the sheer force.

Come on, hold together, I silently prayed, gripping my seat as the stars began to appear through the bridge’s front windshield. This would be my first time in space—hopefully not my last.

“Sir, forty seconds until we clear the atmosphere,” my helm officer announced, her voice tight with concentration.

“Keep us steady,” I ordered, though I knew it was easier said than done.

The ship shuddered under the stress, the forces threatening to tear us apart. The helm was struggling to keep the ship on course.

“Helm, you had better keep this ship in one piece,” I ground out through clenched teeth as the ship shook violently, tossing us around in our seats.

“Aye, Sir,” he replied, his knuckles white as he gripped the controls.

Finally, the ship broke through the atmosphere, and I felt my body lighten as gravity released its hold. The ship floated free, suspended in the void of space.

“Get us in a sustained orbit en route to the orbital station and get me a status update on the ship’s condition,” I barked, trying to mask the relief that washed over me. We weren’t safe yet, but at least we were out of the atmosphere.

A few minutes passed as the crew scrambled to gather the information I’d requested. While I waited, my curiosity got the better of me, and I accessed the ship’s records on Star Zaraki. The data was fascinating—and disturbing. The onboard doctor had run several blood tests, x-rays, and MRIs on her. According to the scans, she had several implants throughout her body: one at the base of her skull, several along her spine, one in each hand, and one on the left side of her skull, just above her ear. Each implant was intricately designed, nearly undetectable beneath the skin. The x-rays revealed that her bones had grown around the implants, indicating they had been placed when she was very young, during a critical period of growth. The doctor had refrained from attempting to activate the devices, fearing it might kill her.

When I tried to access the blood test results, I was denied entry. Odd. I could see everything else—why were the blood test results off-limits? I made a mental note to question the doctor about it. Just as my frustration peaked, my executive officer approached with the reports I had been waiting for, distracting me from the files on my screen.

“Sir, we have a problem,” my XO said, her voice betraying a note of unease.

“What’s the problem?” I asked, sighing internally. Problems were becoming the norm.

“We won’t be able to re-enter Earth’s atmosphere. The ship’s damage is too extensive,” she explained, her words heavy with the grim reality we faced.

“Yeah… I figured that was the case,” I admitted, resigned to the situation. “We’ll get what we can repaired at the orbital station and go from there.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, though I could hear the underlying concern in her tone.

Unclipping myself from my seat, I left the bridge, leaving my XO in charge, and floated down the corridor towards the medical bay. As I passed an airman, he was struggling to get tools back into his toolbox, which had come open in the zero-gravity environment. A wrench floated past his head as he fumbled with the tools. He quickly saluted me, his face a mix of concentration and embarrassment.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, returning the salute with a smile. The small, human moments amidst the chaos kept us all grounded—at least mentally.

Finally reaching the medical bay, I found the doctor and Master Sergeant Helsing. She was strapped to a medical table, unconscious and looking worse for wear. A large bruise darkened the skin around her neck, and her uniform was soaked in blood. The doctor, wearing magnetic boots to keep himself grounded, leaned over her, examining her injuries. Despite the chaos elsewhere, the medical bay was in perfect condition—everything in its place, nothing floating around.

Bracing myself against the table that the master sergeant was strapped to, I looked up at the doctor. “Tell me what happened?” I ordered, my tone firm but edged with concern.

“Sir, we found her and three airmen in the corridor near the subject’s room. The Master Sergeant and two of the airmen were severely injured but should recover. She has a broken arm, three cracked ribs, and severe bruising on her back and neck. One of the airmen has a gunshot wound to the abdomen. The third has severe bruising and a concussion. We found one of my medical staff in a different corridor with a broken hand and arm. He also has a concussion and bruising along his right temple. We have three dead from the encounter. One was shot three times in the chest—all three shots straight to the heart,” he explained, his voice steady but grim.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as he continued.

“The other two… well, that’s a different story. The only time I’ve seen injuries like this was from a feral animal. One man’s chest was clawed open before he was slammed into the bulkhead. The second airman was shredded apart. When we found him, his body was ravaged. His arm was found twenty feet from his body, his head nearly decapitated, and blood was everywhere. Whatever did this was not human. From what I’ve gathered from those who are awake, it was a machine. But, interestingly, it bled. We found a blood trail leading from the subject’s room all the way out of the ship. I believe Master Sergeant Helsing managed to stab it with her K-Bar. So whatever it is, it can bleed,” the doctor explained, his tone clinical yet tinged with something darker.

“What do you think this thing is?” I asked, though the answer already gnawed at the edges of my mind.

“Sir, whoever came aboard the ship is like the girl—Star Zaraki—except for one thing: this one possessed far greater strength and aggression. The blood gathered from the hallway deck shows similar traits to hers. When you get a chance, you need to see the damage it left in its wake,” the doctor continued, his words heavy with implications.

“That reminds me… Why am I locked out of the blood results?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I focused on the one detail that had bothered me earlier.

“I am not at liberty to say, Sir. You’ll need to discuss that with Colonel Sirnic,” he replied coolly, deflecting my question with practiced ease.

Gritting my teeth, I looked down at the unconscious master sergeant. Just then, the intercom snapped on, breaking the tense silence.

“Sir, we are on approach vector to the station. Also, Sir, the Autumn is tailing us as predicted,” my XO announced.

“Understood. Signal the station and tell them to target the Autumn and provide cover fire if it attacks,” I ordered, my mind already shifting back to the immediate threat.

“Inform me when she wakes up and get as much information as you can about what she witnessed,” I added before leaving the medical bay.

The Death Reckoning had finally docked at the orbital station by the time I reached the bridge. I greeted the station commander as he came aboard. Vice Admiral John Cody was a heavy-set man, his appearance suggesting he had seen more than his fair share of desk duty. Still, his presence commanded respect. After a quick salute, we walked side by side to the bridge, where my XO called the crew to attention.

The orbital station had recently received an experimental gravity generator, which produced artificial gravity around the station. Docked as we were, the Death Reckoning was also affected, and I felt the familiar pull of gravity return as we walked.

The Admiral called “carry on” and announced that he would be taking control of the Death Reckoning. Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I stepped back, allowing the Admiral the courtesy of command. He had a better understanding of space combat and far more firepower at his disposal to take on the Autumn. It was in my best interest not to argue with him.

He ordered the bridge communications patched to the Orion’s control room. The Death Reckoning was to act as the station’s propulsion system and weapons control against the Autumn. I felt the engines roar to life as the station began to move toward our enemy. The tension in the air was palpable—every second bringing us closer to a confrontation that could decide the fate of more than just this ship.