2/15/2048 (military calendar)

CIA-operated Spaceship, Lunar-Mars Trajectory

 

*****

 

While Captain Mathew Ryder leaned into his chair while he read a military history book, he opened one of the food-based smoothies and drank it. As he swallowed, the captain's senses went on the fritz as they were overwhelmed by the fruity taste, feeling disgusted. "You know, I am never going to drink these again. I am so sick of them."

Warrant Officer One Rommel King laughed. "I never thought I would miss MREs. If these were the last food on Earth, I'd shoot myself."

Ryder chuckled as he understood the sentiment. "Speaking of Earth, what do you plan on doing once we return?"

Sergeant First Class Gregory Barrett leaned forward. "Probably go to the pool bar and hustle some privates for money. Then a five-star meal."

"Don't you think that is too easy to fish?” King asked.

"Maybe," Barrett replied. "I don't need the money; I just enjoy seeing that look in their eyes that an old timer like me whipped their asses."

"I will drink to that," King stated. "What about you, sir, after this pleasure cruise?"

"I know what he is doing," Wallace interrupted. "Going to the club to get some senoritas."

Barrett leaned around his chair to face his subordinate. "Knock it off, Wallace, or you will spend the rest of the trip outside."

"I wouldn't mind working on my tan," Wallace replied as he flexed his arms.

“You can try, my friend, but you will never be as good-looking as me,” Barrios replied as he looked at his tablet.

"Man, those two can be a handful," Barrett said.

"But when he is right, he is right," King said. "Matt, you do need to move on."

The Captain of Comanche, out of everyone on the team, shook his head with a grin. Staff Sergeants Eger Wallace and Bruno Barrios acted like brothers, closer to Twins than brothers. It was customary to see them competing for dominance, but they always had each other back in a sticky situation. To Wallace's point, though, he knew that the bulky Sergeant was correct. He had to work on his life. While he loved his career, there had to be more.

As the captain looked for the right words to convey what was on his mind, his eyes were drawn to the ceiling lights flickering. They suddenly turned off, and for a moment, the room was pitched black before a red glow from the emergency lights switched on.

"Comanche." Ryder didn't have to say more as his team started to mobilize, getting into their combat space suits.

Mathew Ryder unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed himself toward his space suit. Once dressed, he then floated to the ship intercom. He could feel the starship shake as he floated, making him wonder if they hit something. "Ryder to Bridge."

Hearing nothing, this started to concern the young captain. It seemed what Commander Nelson was worried about was coming to fruition.

"Rommel," Ryder said. "I cannot get through to the Bridge. Once Comanche regrouped, I want you to prepare a team and investigate."

"I wouldn't bother," Barrios said.

Hearing Bruno Barrios calling for him, the captain saw the Sergeant staring out into the void by the window.

Quickly floating himself to Barrios, Ryder grabbed a handle and looked outside. To his horror, he saw one of the bridge crew float past them. "We are under attack."

"Who are we missing?" Ryder asked.

“Kurt and Higgins are in the barracks,” Barrett replied. “Gonzales is guarding the package.”

Realizing how spread thin they were, Ryder knew they had to act fast or end up like the bridge crew. His first priority was to secure their section of the ship so they were not caught with their pants down. Even now, they could hear some weapons fire. Most likely, the attackers engaged any remaining crew scattered throughout the ship.

"George," Ryder said. "Head to Forest position and secure the left. Rommel, deploy a defensive line in the passageway. We cannot wait here, or we will be flanked and pinned. Teams of two on each side should do it."

"And the hull," King said. "If they can crawl around the hull, they can flank us."

"Good call," Ryder said.

"I will take the gym team and secure the left side," Barrett said.

It only took a few moments for everyone here to prepare as their training kicked in. Being some of the most elite soldiers in the United States military, they all knew what needed to be done.

Hearing a gunshot outside their hatch, everyone aimed their weapons in preparation to be swarmed. Rommel King then signals the Twins to line up and face the direction where the airlock would open.

Wallace aimed his P52 at the hatch, ready to kill anything that came through. Barrios floated over to grab his buddy and drag him to the wall and then held him in place. This stabilized the Comanche, so his aim was as steady as possible in zero-g. Ready to snip through the opening crack of the hatch.

As expected, the hatch cracked open wide enough for the personnel on the other side to throw an object inside their room. Most likely a stun grenade to which Wallace was prepared for. Once the hatch was wide enough, he placed a well-aimed shot through the hostile skull. A small explosion sounds from the stun grenade going off within the passageway.

Barrett floated and quickly opened the hatch while Barrios tossed a stun grenade, blinding the other hostile temporarily. He then grabbed the body and pulled it into the room while Wallace killed another target. Then, the Sergeant First Class called out for his team to storm the center passageway, firing their P52s in semiautomatic mode.

Ryder floated toward the dead body, meeting his second-in-command. The captain first noticed that there were no official symbols or markings on the corpse suit—only two different color armbands, red and tan.

"This is definitely covert ops," King said.

Lifting the facemask, Ryder noticed that this man looked Middle Eastern. "RIA or the Turks. They're the only two that could launch such an operation."

"The balls on them," King commented. "They have to know we are transporting something important."

"Agreed. Most likely the RIA, then. I do not know if the Turks would risk losing our support over what’s left of Iraq. They would more likely blackmail us over a raid if they knew anything over a direct assault.”

“They don’t call it Cover Ops for a reason, sir,” King said. “Still, I think you are correct about our opponents.”

The two went their separate ways as King went to secure the passageway while Ryder joined Eger Wallace to secure the storage section. The two floated toward the hatch that led to the next section.

Hearing the muffled sound of weapons throughout the ship, Mathew Ryder saw three hostiles approaching the forward hatch. Realizing that they had not been spotted yet, he took a quick shot, wounding the closest target. The other two took cover with the realization that a firefight was about to begin.

A firefight began as they sought cover from the bolted-down containers. Ryder saw a few corpses of former CIA crewmen floating, except for one who was taking cover behind one of the crates.

"Cover me." Ryder pushed against the bulkhead and toward the crewman, pulling out his sidearm. “Soldier, take this and cover.”

“I am not a soldier,” the crewman said as he took the pistol. “I am a mechanic.”

“Tell them that,” Ryder replied as he turned and provided suppressive fire. “Rally up or be left behind. Now, watch our six."

The crewmen took the sidearm, feeling bold now that he was not alone.

The Comanche Captain heard Wallace calling his name. He then saw that two additional hostiles entered the storage room. His first thought was shit before he aimed his P52 and fired.

Realizing that he was secured in place, he switched his weapon from semi-automatic to fully automatic and fired in bursts.

The sudden fire change confused the enemy as one was caught in the burst fire. The 5.7×28mm easily shredded through his target combat spacesuit after enough impacts. While there was armor on their combat spacesuits, it was not meant to withstand a direct engagement.

The crewmen floated to the other Comanche, and once Ryder saw his chance, he followed right behind. His comrades provided cover for fire, and an intense exchange of bronze impacted the containers. He floated back and felt something impact his shoulder. A section of his HUD started flashing yellow, confirming that something impacted him.

He stopped by one of the containers and checked his shoulder. He did see that he was hit but that the bullet didn’t go through. Seeing his luck, he hoped God was not planning to push his luck again.

Once back with his team, Ryder ordered Wallace to open the exterior emergency hatch. Remembering what his XO said that the enemy would soon use their superior manpower and flank them from outside, he needed to act fast.

As Ryder and the other crewmen provided cover, pinning down one of the hostile attackers, Wallace floated to the hatch and opened it, exiting the ship's hull.

Ryder connected to Wallace's camera feed; he saw that the moment the hatch was opened, his teammate encountered the enemy that was toward the rear of the ship to flank them. The Staff Sergeant quickly engaged the new targets, catching them by surprise.

"Turn to the front section," Ryder said.

Once the flank was secured, Wallace turned toward the spaceship's front section.

This was where Ryder saw the true extent of what was going on. Half a dozen enemy soldiers entered the bridge, with more floating toward them. What terrified the captain was seeing a black smooth ship anchored to them. While smaller than their vessel, the enemy ship was clearly designed for covert operations.

Skimming through the feed of the rest of the team, the enemy seemed to be hitting hard, outnumbering his Comanche team three or four to one. Far more than that spacecraft was able to sustain. He could only conclude that this operation was explicitly designed for them. Most likely, they were trying to acquire whatever they were transporting.

The only thing that seemed to be going their way was that Comanche was there. The enemy didn't expect a Special Forces group within a CIA spacecraft. While that proved a temporary advantage, he knew it wouldn't last long. And with the enemy spacecraft hitched to theirs, escaping wasn't impossible. A continued shootout would only defeat them just because they had more bodies.

"Sir," King said over TEAMCOM. "We are not going to be able to hold. We need to fall back and regroup."

"Regroup? where-." As Ryder spoke, he remembered the Aether-class capsule in the hangar. "I need Kurt here to take my position. George, do you have any other friends by you?"

"Affirmative."

"Roger. I am heading to you."

Ryder saw Sergeant First Class Kurt Forest quickly float into their room. "Kurt, secure that hatch. Everyone else, pull back and secure our starting point."

The captain then pushed himself back into the lounge section and headed toward the inner passageway.

He saw the intense firefight between his men and the enemy. Two of his teammates used a hatch as a shield to provide suppressive fire. It seemed they refused to give them an inch based on all the bullet impacts and scary walls, which was good. Losing this passageway would give the enemy full access to the ship.

Waving toward them, Ryder signaled that he needed cover to cross. King ordered everyone to open fire, allowing him to pass through. "Rommel, just hold on a bit longer."

"As long as you need. I don’t think they were expecting us."

Floating through the ship hatches, Mathew Ryder moved through the many different compartments of the spaceship until he reached Sergeant First Class Kurt Forest, who was holding the kitchen.

"George,” Ryder said. "Is one of the friendlies the Aether pilot?"

"No idea," Barrett asked. "But I assigned two of them to guard the storage compartment."

Ryder then pushed himself back to the previous section and floated up. Once there, he opened the hatch to the storage room and saw two CIA personnel taking cover by bolted-down compartments. One armed with an M18 pistol and the other with a P52 personal defense weapon. On the other side were hostiles advancing, to which he fired a few rounds to stall the enemy while seeking cover.

Seeing a short pause in the fighting, Ryder moved toward the two men. "Are one of you the Aether pilot?".

"I am," the man with the sidearm replied. "Why?"

"The ship is lost, so I need you to fly us off this wreck."

"That is a stupid idea. We won't get far in that tin can."

"Why the hell not?" Ryder asked in a frustrated voice.

"It is basically out of fuel. Entering and exiting a planetary atmosphere, even a low-density one like Mars, requires a lot of fuel, and we are not a propellant depot. The life support was not designed as a lifeboat, even if it had fuel. "

Hearing that statement only infuriated Ryder, as his only option for survival was to be tossed out of the hatch. Even if they did use the Aether as a lifeboat, the enemy would have to move their ship to pick them up, and they would be helpless.

Ryder realized the enemy ship was ruining other potential ideas to salvage their situation. Retaking their vessel was a lost cause, and their ship would run them down if they tried to leave. Fighting to the last man would only result in defeat and the enemy acquiring their objective. Even the insane idea of trying to capture the enemy ship to escape forces them into the open, being easy picking.

That was when the captain remembered his conversation with Commander Nelson. The commander wanted him to know what was happening in the surrounding area. While he still did not know if there was a more profound lesson or that the formal commander was seeking conversation, he remembered there were other starships nearby. Relatively speaking.

If he recalled, a French Ship was the closest. He was concerned that if they contacted a civilian ship to intervene in a covert operation and rescue them, it would blow into an international crisis, excluding how highly irregular it would be.

Relations between the United States and the French are mixed. While allies, France had always pushed for strategic autonomy within NATO and the Artemus Accords. While the old Global Order collapsed into regional factions, this had strained relations with completing interests. His wife once considered the relationship a ‘frenemies’ one, and with heavy influence with Western Europe, they weighed to get away with it.

However, he saw no other choice.

“Higgins, can you patch through the Aether systems and access communications?” Ryder asked.

“I could if I had a few hours and wasn't being shot at," Higgins said with much confusion. "The issue is that everything is dead on the ship.”

"And they are probably jamming us," King added.

“What do you want?” the pilot asked.

“There is a French vessel about a day away from us,” Ryder replied. “If we can get in contact, we are safe.”

“Then he can access the capsule communication system,” the pilot said. “I do not know what hit us. It's probably some scaled-up anti-drone EM weapon. However, the hanger is more protected than the rest of the ship.”

“Why is that?” As Ryder asked the question, he realized how dumb the question was at this time. He was talking to spooks on a spook ship while engaged in a life-or-death battle. And right now, he doesn't care why, just that it could work. “Forget that. Higgins, did you hear that?”

“On my way,” Higgins said.

“There is still that ship problem outside,” Wallace said. "And they seemed pissed."

Ryder took a deep breath as every problem continued to point toward the enemy vessel.

“Ryder,” King said. “Why don’t we blow up our ship? That should remove it while preventing the enemy from acquiring this one.”

He considered scuttling the ship earlier for that reason. This ship probably had many highly classified technologies that the CIA wouldn’t want the enemy to get their hands on. However, since they were still on the CIA spaceship, he didn’t seriously consider the idea until there was no literal choice. Now that they have a way off the spaceship, the sudden explosion could take out the enemy spacecraft while it was still anchored to them, solving most of their problems.

“Agreed,” Ryder said. “Bruno, can you plant explosives?”

“I can,” Barrios said. “The engine room would be the best place for that.”

“Roger,” Ryder replied. “Kurt and Barrett, start pulling back. Rommel, maintain control over the passageway and cover the Engine room and the hanger.”

He then turned to the pilot. “Head to the hangar and see if you can start it up.”

As the pilot left, Ryder fired and engaged the enemy to cover the pilot's retreat. He saw one of the enemy soldiers’ speed floating past one of the storage units as he fired. Seeing his opportunity, the young captain killed the target.

Turning to check on the pilot, Ryder saw blood floating in the zero gravity, which was coming from the pilot’s side. “Shit. Gonzales, get over here now. I have priority wounded.”

Ryder pushed himself from the storage wall and floated past the hatch, grabbing the pilot and pushing the man out of the way into cover.

Grabbing a handle, Ryder turned and signaled for the other crewman to pull back. That man started floating toward the hatch as he fired his P52. However, before getting to the hatch, he was gunned down. Feeling anger from watching another comrade be killed, he was forced to close the hatch and turned to the pilot. He saw Sergeant Marcos Gonzales, the team medic, treating the pilot. “Gonzales, get him to the hanger. Keep him alive at all cost.”

“I got it, boss,” Gonzales said as he pulled the pilot to the internal hatch.

After Ryder gave Comanche the order to start falling back, he saw Barrett’s team pull out of the kitchen. One of them tossed a stun grenade into the room before closing the hatch. They then placed thermal tape around the door, lightly welding the hatch shut.

"That is not going to last for long," Ryder said.

"Just long enough," Barrett replied.

“Alright,” Ryder said. "Keep things locked down here; I am heading to the engine room."

"Negative sir. Let the NCOs handle those tasks. Your focus should be on the space capsule. None of these matters if we cannot get out of here."

Acknowledging that his head NCO was correct, Ryder headed toward the hangar. The most crucial detail was ensuring they could communicate with the French vessels and escape.

Entering the inner passageway, the Comanche captain again saw the firefight. The signs of intense battle as blood and bullet casings floated around. Even an enemy corpse hovered between the two factions; Rommel King held his location firm.

As the captain passed his men, he told them they were performing excellent work and that they only needed to hold for a few more minutes before getting off this dead vessel. Then he floated further down the passageway, pushing away a crewman's corpse so he could get by.

Ryder reached the hatch that said 'hanger,' he opened it and floated inside. Once inside, he pushed himself toward the hatch and swam toward the Aether. Once he grabbed the railing, he climbed to its open hatch. "Higgins, talk to me."

"Communication systems work after some hotfixes," Higgins said. "However, we're jammed, so there's no way to send a message until that ship is gone."

The gravity of how motivated these hostiles were to claim whatever they were transporting. It made him wonder what on earth they were transporting. Forcing all non-essential thoughts from his mind, he focused on the task at hand. "That won't be a problem in a few minutes. That is assuming we can fly out of here?"

"I can only get a few thrusts out of this thing," the pilot said.

"That will have to do," Ryder replied. He then reaccessed TEAMCOM. “Engineering?”

“Nearly ready to blow this hundreds of million-dollar piece of metal,” Barrett said. “We are good now.”

“Alright. Comanche, pull back to the hanger. ASAP. Open the hanger, Gonzales, with me.”

Noticing that the hanger bay started to open above him, it reminded him of the old NASA Shuttles where the hatch was on top. It made sense why the CIA converted this spaceship with a similar hanger, the only way they could hide a space capsule.

Connecting a metal robe to his suit and then to the Aether exterior railing, Ryder pushed himself forward to reach the ship's hull. Looking backward, he noticed that Gonzales was not far behind. “Wallace should still be out there, so we must provide cover until they are ready to launch.”

The two Comanches reached the hull and were immediately engaged by the enemy. Ryder saw a hostile standing on the enemy spacecraft side hanger with two more guarding the bridge section.

Forced to use the opened hanger door as cover, Ryder peaked around and returned fire, aiming for the man on the enemy spacecraft. After a few well-placed shots, it seemed like he killed or wounded the target, so he readjusts his firing position to engage the rest.

“Hey guys, I need cover,” Wallace said.

“Gonzales, cover me.” Ryder quickly jumped from his side of the hull, jumping over the open hangar bay to the other side. Once he landed, he secured himself and took cover, using the other opened hanger door.

Finding where Eger Wallace was, the fellow Comanche took cover on the ship's far side—using a new hole within the hull as a makeshift foxhole. Ryder could only assume that the enemy was trying to flank them earlier from the exterior, and he prevented them.

“Wallace, let's go.” Ryder peaked around the hanger door and provided cover fire. Looking back, he saw Wallace trying to run toward them, relying on a zipline connecting him to the hull. The issue was that the man was an easy target in the open.

Not wanting to lose a man, Ryder stood up to make himself more of a target and opened fire. He was able to take one of the hostiles, but in return, the other two started to fire at him. "Hurry up!"

Seeing that his teammate was almost there, Ryder requested cover fire. He then reached out and grabbed Wallace's hand and swung him around the hanger after being unhooked from the zipline.

Wallace swung around and rammed into the captain, slamming him into the hangar door. “I didn't know you enjoyed getting this close, sir. Are you going to buy me dinner or take me straight home?'

A part of Ryder wanted to laugh at how calm Wallace acted, never allowing the situation to get to him. He pushed his fellow Comanche warrior away. “Right now."

The two Comanches turned and started to engage the emerging hostiles that were appearing from the many breaches within the hull. Wallace commented that the enemy seemed to be figuring out how to use the spacecraft to flee and were trying to stop them. That was fine with Ryder, as that meant they did not know that they had just turned the ship into a bomb.

Checking his feed, he saw Warrant Officer 1 Rommel King finishing loading up the last of the survivors into the Aether. From what he could tell, almost none of the ship's crew made it. The pilot and one other crewman were the only survivors from Commander Nelson's crew.

From what Ryder understood, the Aether only had eight seated, so that it would be a tight fit. He knew that Rommel King would try and fit as many as he could inside, but everyone else would need to hang outside until help arrived.

“Launch when ready,” Ryder ordered.

The latches that held the Aether space capsule to the spaceship. Now free, the large cone-shaped capsule started floating out of the hangar bay, with only the air thrusters giving it a quick boost.

“Gonzales, get on now!” Ryder ordered.

“I don’t have a line,” Wallace said.

Ryder grabbed his teammate, and the two men ran on the spaceship's hull to the edge of the open hangar bay and leaped toward the Aether. The three Comanches floated onto the capsule and grabbed the railing. “We're on. Fire the engines!”

The three Comanches secured themselves to the exterior railing and held as tight as they could to the capsule, feeling the shake violently, freaking them out.

With the sudden rumble of the Aether, Ryder and the rest looked down and saw the engine coming to life. The red and orange colored blast propelled the space capsule away from their formal spaceship, abandoning it to the enemy. The blast didn't last long as the thrusters shut off, and now, they were drifting. However, he hoped they drifted fast enough to escape the blast radius.

Looking back, I saw the enemy rushing back to their ship. He wondered if they found the bomb or felt they needed to chase after them. Either way, it no longer mattered.

“ETA,” Gonzales said. “Three, two, one.”

The CIA spaceship engine section exploded, with the rest of the ship following suit. The enemy ship attempted to escape; however, it was too late. A chunk of the spaceship hull flew straight into the underside of the enemy vessel, followed by the large blast that consumed it, causing the enemy ship to explode.

Shrapnel from both ships flew past them, and for a moment, Ryder was forced to cover his visor from the sudden brightness of the combined explosion.

Wallace threw out his fist and yelled, “I will see you in hell for round two, bastards!”

Ryder could not stop himself from laughing from the burst of energy from Wallace. He looked toward the man and said, “You are insane, Wallace.”

“Sir. Would you have it any other way?”

“I don’t think you want my honest answer.”

After the two laughed, releasing stress from the situation, Ryder looked back and took a deep breath as he saw that the battle was over. The thought from before suddenly returned about the package they were transporting. A lot of lives were lost in protecting it, and the RIA was willing to go to war over it. He had no idea what it was and how valuable it could be. He just hoped it was worth it.

 

*****

 

Captain Mathew Ryder hung outside the Aether, tied to the exterior railing. Being stuck outside because there was no way inside the capsule without decompressing the spacecraft, he and his fellow two Comanches hung outside. He was trying to breathe slowly, not to consume oxygen too quickly. His body felt numb.

Looking inside the capsule, he saw that everyone looked exhausted, freezing, and thirsty. Sergeant Gonzales was deeply concerned with the pilot's wound because of the cold temperature, causing hyperthermia. Other members of Comanche were so dehydrated they were no longer combat-effective.

It had been over eleven hours since abandoning their spaceship. Eleven hours with nothing to do but sit and wait for the French vessel to arrive, assuming they got their SOS or a quiet, cold death in the emptiness of space.

“I am so thirsty,” Gonzales quickly said.

“Do not speak.” As Ryder spoke, his mouth felt chapped and dry. The throat throbbed with pain. “Every word is wasted air and energy.”

While checking over his men within the Aether, Ryder saw Sergeant Charlie Higgins working on the dashboard, desperately trying to find power. So far, he had been unsuccessful as it remained dead.

“Sir,” Wallace barely said. “We have a contact.”

Ryder turned to face his teammate and then looked out into the darkness of space. He saw emptiness beside this one distant object that was too far away to identify correctly. The first thoughts were that it was an asteroid as they were in the Apollo Group or, hopefully, a spaceship.

A moment later, the object started flashing. While he was too dehydrated and too tired to translate the flashes, he quickly realized that it was artificial. That mean it had to be man-made, a spaceship.

Ryder pointed toward his medic and the incoming spaceship, signaling him to fire the flare. The captain then banged against the Aether window and spoke through the radio that help was about to arrive.

The captain could feel the moral spike within his team without needing to look as if hope had finally arrived. He said over the radio, “No angel of death this day.”

Ryder could see the French flag on the side as the spaceship arrived. Now, he only wondered what the reaction from Space Command would be once he learned of this. As the ship approached, he looked around his team, wondering if this would be his last mission, but if so, he got them out alive with their objective.

The French freight vessel slowed down. Once both vessels’ speeds matched, the side airlock opened. Two Frenchmen crewmen stood there, and the two crewmen jumped toward them with a zipline. Ryder and Gonzales grabbed him and pulled him close.

Ryder tried to communicate with the Frenchmen; however, they didn’t have Coms. Still, the man already got to work in connection with both ships and soon enough, the Aether was being pulled to the spaceship.

As the Aether got closer, the Frenchmen pointed toward the airlock and then jumped toward it. They realized they would be trapped outside once the capsule docked, so they had to jump.

“Alright, you two jump first,” Ryder ordered.

The first Comanche that jumped was Gonzales, with Wallace followed quickly behind. As Ryder prepared himself to jump, he saw the Canadarm unfolding and moving to attach itself to their capsule to help guide them into the airlock.

Ryder jumped and floated toward the airlock. The two Frenchmen grabbed his arm and pulled him in. The door closed, and the five of them entered the French ship. The three Comanche soldiers fell to them now and threw their helmets off, gasping for air. Even though the air was recycled, the captain thought it was the best breath in his life as he felt a new wave of energy jolt throughout his body.

A thumb was heard behind them as the Aether docked with the French ship. The two crewmen opened the hatch, and some of his team fell out, consuming the recycled air.

As Comanche exited the Ather, Captain Mathew Ryder felt senses partly returned. He noticed the Frenchman's eyes were wide and shaking. It took him a moment to understand why. The man was probably expecting lost merchant souls that were drifting through space. Not highly armed soldiers.

Ryder knew he had to refuse the situation as quickly as possible before a more significant international crisis began. While his body just wanted to collapse, he forced himself to stand up, holding his hand out, trying to calm the man. Once he got the man's attention, he started pointing toward the American flag on his shoulder.

Once Ryder believed the Frenchman understood the situation, he turned to his team. “Gonzales, Wallace, get the pilot to the medical bay. Everyone else, stay here. The last thing they need is to think we are invading them.”

“What will they use, gummy bullets?” Barrios jokingly asked in an out-of-breath tone.

“They would just surrender without a fight,” Wallace added as he took deep breaths.

As the two-fist bumped, Warrant Office 1 Rommel King slowly said, “Both of you…. Shut up….”

Ryder then ensured the Frenchman understood they had a wounded man and needed medical attention. Seeing the sight of the near-dead pilot, the man did not need much convincing.

The Frenchman reached over to an intercom, and Ryder could only assume that he had reported the situation to his ship commander. A voice came through the intercom, and then the man waved to Ryder to follow. He then ordered Higgins to follow, and the two followed the Frenchmen.

Summoning the strength to push against the wall, Ryder began floating through the starship. As the three passed through the ship, he noticed a similar design. The only significant difference was that this ship was cargo-focused over passenger. There were a few other ship personnel, all keeping their distance out of fear. It was not every day to see armed men floating on a spaceship that looked trashed. It must have been a terrifying sight.

The Frenchman led the two Comanche to the bridge, where Ryder saw the ship commander sitting in his seat.

The commander's seat turned, and the commander looked directly at them. “Americans. Infesting space with their militarism, believing that they own everything. What do you call your Second Manifest Destiny? An excuse to push above and beyond before anyone else gets a chance to stake a claim? Believing that you are above the rest of us because you have the might? And yet, here you are. Now, what are soldiers doing on the way out here?”

Throughout Ryder's career, many people complained about American militarism and Second Manifest Destiny. The United States was born through warfare, fighting for their beliefs. That included expanding to become the most powerful nation on Earth. Some politicians avoid using the Manifest Destiny term as it is heavily loaded, using military might to conquer lands that have blessed the nation to this day. Some believe the US might follow a similar path to establish its dominance in space.

While he does believe that his country does abuse its power at times, most still seek their protection. They always preferred some rule-based system that benefited others. America has the power to go it alone but chose to include others.

Ryder ignored the insult and said, “Thank you for the rescue. We were attacked and forced to abandon ship.”

The commander took a long look at the two Comanches before replying. “I am a veteran from the AAE. I know Special Forces when I see it. If you were attacked, then it had to be something big.”

“Noted,” Ryder replied. “I request that you turn this ship around and return to Earth. Higgins here can give you the protocol.”

“I am sorry, Captain, but I have to refuse,” the commander said. “I do not take orders for you, and I have my country's interest to consider. We are carrying vital supplies for our Mars base, and missing this would set back our plans for years. Unless you want to tell me what you were doing out here?”

Feeling nothing but exhaustion, Ryder realized that the commander knew that. “This is the last time I am going to request, sir. Higgins, give him a protocol to contact Space Command.”

“You do not threaten me on my ship,” the commander said. “I do not care that you are armed. You will not dare risk headlines that say American Special Forces raided and hijacked a French vessel. Your country would lose all connections to Europe. And you would be in prison for life, and I would be treated as a hero.”

“Sir…. My mission is more important than that. Contact Space Command, or I will make you.”

Ryder stared directly at the French commander's eyes. In contrast, he felt sweat and exhaustion pressing down on his body. It's almost as if someone doubled the gravity level in this zero-G environment.

The commander sat there, waiting for the young captain to flinch. However, the Comanche captain refused to remove his posture, and the commander fully saw his determination. The commander suddenly waved his hand. “Alright. A call will not hurt anyone.”

Charlie Higgins floated over and provided the necessary protocol.

“Now leave my bridge,” the commander demanded.

Not wanting to press further, Ryder and Higgins floated outside and waited.

“Do you think he will listen?” Higgins asked.

“I don’t know,” Ryder replied. “I don’t see why not, but there isn’t a reason for the French to do so. If the roles were reversed, we wouldn’t just because of the goodness of our hearts. Unless it was considered a vital natural security.”

The two Comanche waited about fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours. One of the crewmembers brought over water and a fruit smoothie.

Ryder remembers not long ago, he swore never to have another one of these smoothies again, but now, it was the most sumptuous meal he had ever had.

The bridge hatch opened, and the commander appeared.

“What did Space Command say?” Ryder asked.

“I never contacted them,” the commander replied. “As I said, I don't take orders from Americans."

"That being said, my command spoke with my President. Then my superiors spoke with yours.” The commander paused as he took a deep breath. “The ship is yours. I have been ordered to get you wherever you need to go.”

The Comanche captain thought he would feel relieved that the worst should end. However, the idea of what they were transporting quickly convinced the French shocked him. The fact they were willing to hand over Command of the ship quickly forced him to wonder what, indeed, was going on.

Knowing they were still days away from Luna, he didn't want this crew to feel that they were beneath them. Mainly because everyone in CFT-1 was in no condition to fight; they needed the French crew's best behavior. “With all due respect, sir, it is still your ship, and I will not relieve you of command. Please take us to Freedom Space Station.”

“It will be done,” the commander said before returning to the Bridge. "I already ordered the crew to prepare beds and meals."

The two were escorted off the bridge, Higgins asked. "That was strange. How do you think that conversation went?"

“No idea. But it seems that our government offered something worth all this mess. That only makes me wonder what else is going on.”

“Who knows.”

“Let's get back to the team and rest,” Ryder said.