KIERAN
The bridge was dying one alarm at a time.
Captain Kieran Hayes stood at his command station, watching red icons disappear from the tactical display. Each icon was a ship. Each ship carried five hundred people.
They were being slaughtered.
The battle had started twenty minutes ago and already his fleet was torn to pieces. Explosions lit up the viewscreen like deadly fireworks. Ships he'd served alongside for years just gone in flashes of white light.
Kieran's hands gripped the armrests of his command chair. Five years commanding the Valiant had taught him to stay calm during combat. Five years watching good soldiers die had carved something cold into his chest.
But this felt different.
This felt wrong.
Across the bridge, Lieutenant Chen called out damage reports. Her voice stayed steady even though her hands shook on the controls.
Destroyer Pegasus is gone, sir. The Archimedes took critical damage to engineering. They're venting atmosphere.
More ships. More people. More death.
Kieran forced himself to focus on the tactical display instead of the human cost. The enemy was pressing hard but that wasn't the problem. The problem was his own fleet's positioning.
They were too exposed. Too vulnerable. The defensive grid should have activated ten minutes ago and it hadn't. His ships were sitting in open space like targets at a firing range.
No experienced commander would position a fleet this way.
But Admiral Reeves had given him direct orders. Maintain this formation. Hold this position. The enemy flagship is in range.
Kieran had followed those orders because that's what soldiers did. You trusted your superiors. You believed they knew things you didn't.
Now his people were dying and he was starting to question everything.
Marcus appeared at his shoulder. His second in command looked as confused as Kieran felt.
Sir, something's not right. We're positioned all wrong. This feels like a setup.
Kieran knew. God, he knew. But what could he do about it now? They were in the middle of combat. Refusing orders would get him court-martialed.
Following orders was getting his crew killed.
Another explosion rocked a nearby ship. The destroyer Hamilton broke apart, its hull splitting down the middle. Emergency pods launched but not enough. Not nearly enough.
Kieran thought about the Hamilton's captain. Woman named Rodriguez. Had three kids waiting for her back home. She'd shown him pictures last month during a joint briefing.
Those kids just became orphans.
His throat closed up. He forced the emotion down. Had to. If he stopped to grieve every loss, he'd be useless.
The comm crackled with Admiral Reeves' voice. Smooth and commanding like always.
Maintain formation, Captain Hayes. The enemy flagship is in range. This is our moment.
Our moment for what? Kieran wanted to scream back. Our moment to die?
But he just said the words trained into him since academy.
Yes, sir.
He looked at the tactical display again. Studied the enemy positions. Studied his own fleet's formation.
The math didn't work.
They were positioned perfectly to take maximum damage. The defensive grid that should protect them was offline. Their strongest ships were in the worst positions.
It was almost like someone had designed this battle to kill as many people as possible.
The thought made his stomach turn.
No. That was paranoia talking. Admiral Reeves was ambitious and ruthless but he wouldn't murder his own fleet. That was insane.
Wasn't it?
Marcus leaned in close enough that only Kieran could hear.
Captain, if we don't break formation soon, we're all dead.
Kieran's mind raced. Break formation and face treason charges. Stay in formation and watch everyone die.
Some choice.
Lieutenant Chen's console exploded without warning. The blast threw her backward. She hit the deck hard and didn't move. Blood pooled beneath her head.
Medical team to the bridge, Kieran shouted into the comm.
But he already knew she was gone. The explosion had been too close. Too violent.
Chen had an eight-year-old daughter. Loved drawing pictures of stars. Had shown Kieran her latest drawing just yesterday.
That little girl would never see her mother again.
The tactical officer called out, voice shaking.
Sir, multiple enemy contacts bearing three-four-seven. They're targeting our engines.
Of course they were. Disable the engines and the Valiant became a floating coffin.
Evasive pattern delta, Kieran ordered. Get us out of their firing line.
But even as he said it, he saw the problem. The formation Admiral Reeves demanded meant they couldn't evade. Couldn't maneuver. Couldn't do anything except sit here and take the punishment.
They were trapped by their own orders.
Around the bridge, his crew worked frantically. Trying to save the ship. Trying to save each other. Their faces showed the same fear Kieran felt.
They trusted him to keep them safe.
He was failing them.
Marcus pulled up sensor data on his console. Studied it for a long moment. Then his face went pale.
Captain, you need to see this.
Kieran moved to Marcus's station. His second in command pointed to the tactical readout.
The defensive grid. It's not offline because of damage. Someone disabled it manually. From inside our own command structure.
Kieran's blood went cold.
That's impossible.
Marcus ran the data again. Same result.
Sir, someone on our side sabotaged our defenses. Someone wanted us vulnerable.
The words hung in the air like poison.
Kieran looked back at the viewscreen. At his fleet burning. At good people dying while following orders.
Orders that led them into a trap.
Who would do this? Who would murder their own people?
His mind immediately went to Admiral Reeves. The man who'd personally briefed him. Who'd insisted on this exact formation. Who'd positioned the Valiant in the most exposed location.
No. That was crazy. Admirals didn't betray their own fleets.
Did they?
Sir, the tactical officer interrupted. Incoming fire. Multiple vectors.
Brace for impact, Kieran ordered.
The crew grabbed onto their stations. Kieran gripped his command chair and waited for the hit.
It never came.
Instead, something else happened.
An explosion ripped through the Valiant from an angle that made no sense. Not from enemy fire. Not from any direction the sensors showed hostile contacts.
The blast came from inside their defensive perimeter.
From where only human ships should be.
The bridge lurched sideways. Alarms screamed louder than before. Emergency lights flashed red.
Kieran pulled himself upright and stared at his displays in disbelief.
Someone had just fired on them.
And that someone was on their side.