Chapter 314: Asteroid crew

Chapter 314: Asteroid crew

Lieutenant Cassandra Beaumont let her words hang in the air as she surveyed the assembled recruits with those piercing blue eyes. Several students shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re not doing basic fitness tests or personality assessments,” she continued, her voice carrying easily across the training deck. “The answer is simple: we don’t have time for that bullshit.”

A few recruits exchanged glances. This wasn’t the polished introduction they’d expected.

“Let me be crystal clear about something,” Beaumont said, beginning to pace in front of them like a predator sizing up prey. “You weren’t invited here because you’re special snowflakes who need careful nurturing. You were dragged here because you showed exceptional promise amongst your peers, and we need bodies that can think and fight.”

She stopped directly in front of Noah’s group. “Some of you—particularly those from Academy 12 eastern sector—have already had the pleasure of meeting Harbingers face-to-face.”

Noah felt Kelvin tense beside him. Lucas’s expression remained neutral, but Noah caught the slight tightening around his eyes. Sophie’s hand found his, a barely perceptible squeeze.

“That,” Beaumont continued, “will now be your everyday reality. While you’re still technically in training, you’ll be on call for frontline deployment at any given moment.” Her gaze swept across the group again. “This is not an opportunity to flounder. This is your chance to save lives and stay alive while doing it.”

A recruit from the back raised her hand tentatively. “Ma’am, what exactly does that mean for our training schedule?”

Beaumont’s smile was sharp as a blade. “It means you’re soldiers now, just with a slightly longer leash than the regulars. You’ll face what actual combat operatives face. No more academy safety nets.”

Kelvin leaned over to Noah and whispered, “Is it weird that I’m finding her terrifying attitude kind of attractive?”

“Very weird,” Sophie muttered back, having overheard.

“Focus,” Beaumont snapped, though she hadn’t looked their way. “Your first mission briefing begins now. Team assignments have been updated based on capability assessments from your academy records.”

The holographic display above them shifted to show team rosters. Noah quickly scanned for his name and found:

**PATHFINDER TEAM SEVEN**

– Lucas Grey (Team Leader, Tier 2)

– Noah Eclipse (Tier 4)

– Sophie Reign (Tier 4)

– Kelvin Pithon (Tier 4)

– Lyra Davids (Tier 4)

– Diana Frost (Tier 4)

“Oh, come on,” Kelvin groaned under his breath. “Diana Frost? Really?”

Noah’s heart sank. Diana Frost from Academy 8—cold, calculating, and possessed of an unfortunate talent for making his life miserable when their paths crossed during inter-academy competitions. Her momentum nullification abilities were formidable, but her personality was about as warm as the vacuum of space.

“This is perfect,” Lucas murmured, though his tone suggested it was anything but. “A team-building exercise before we’ve even met properly.”

As if summoned by their conversation, Diana materialized beside their group. She was tall and pale, with platinum blonde hair pulled into a severe ponytail and grey eyes that seemed to constantly judge and find everything wanting.

“Eclipse,” she said coolly, not bothering with pleasantries. “I see mediocrity continues to be rewarded.”

“Diana,” Noah replied evenly. “Still working on that winning personality, I see.”

Before the tension could escalate, Lyra Davids bounded over with the enthusiasm of a caffeinated squirrel.

“Team Seven! This is so exciting!” she gushed, her copper hair practically bouncing with each word. “I’ve read all about asteroid reconnaissance protocols. Did you know that mineral composition analysis can reveal Harbinger scout patterns? I wrote a whole paper on it last year. Well, not about Harbingers specifically because that’s classified, but about energy signature displacement in—”

“Davids,” Diana interrupted flatly. “Breathing. Try it sometime.”

Lyra’s enthusiasm dimmed only slightly. “Right, sorry. I get excited about collaborative mission parameters.”

Sophie looked at Noah with an expression that clearly said, ‘What have we gotten ourselves into?’

“Your assignment,” Beaumont continued, now addressing the entire group, “is asteroid cluster reconnaissance in Sector 7-Alpha. Unusual energy signatures have been detected, and we need boots on the ground—or in this case, boots on rocks.”

The holographic display shifted to show a cluster of asteroids at the edge of the solar system. Even from this distance, they looked substantial—some large enough to be classified as minor planetoids.

“You’ll be equipped with Category 4 beast gear suits,” Beaumont explained. “Full environmental protection, enhanced mobility, and integrated communication systems. These aren’t training wheels—they’re military grade equipment that costs more than most people make in a decade. Try not to die in them; the paperwork is a nightmare.”

A new voice piped up from their group. “Ma’am, what’s the expected threat level for this mission?”

Beaumont’s smile turned predatory. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be reconnaissance, would it? Expect anything, hope for boring rocks, prepare for worse.”

Kelvin raised his hand. “When do we deploy?”

“Eager, Pithon? Good. You leave in six hours. Gear fitting in two, mission briefing in four, departure immediately after.” Beaumont checked a device on her wrist. “I suggest you use the time wisely. Get to know your team, review the mission parameters, and make peace with whatever deity you prefer. Questions?”

Diana’s hand shot up. “Rules of engagement?”

“Survive, gather intelligence, return alive. In that order.” Beaumont’s expression didn’t change. “Next question?”

Lyra practically vibrated with contained energy. “Geological survey protocols? Sampling procedures? Communication intervals?”

“All in your mission briefing packets. Davids, contain yourself before you vibrate through the deck plating.”

“Right, sorry, ma’am!”

Lucas stepped forward. “Ma’am, chain of command protocols?”

“Grey is team leader based on tier ranking. His word is law. If he dies, Reign takes command. After that, it’s Darwin’s theory in action.” Beaumont’s gaze swept over them one final time. “Any other pressing concerns, or can I dismiss you to your fates?”

Silence.

“Excellent. Dismissed. Try not to disappoint me—the universe needs fewer disappointments.”

As they filed out of the training deck, the newly formed Team Seven clustered together awkwardly. The dynamics were already tense, with Diana maintaining her usual distance and Lyra chattering excitedly about mission protocols.

“Well,” Lucas said diplomatically, “this should be interesting.”

“That’s one word for it,” Sophie muttered.

“I think it’ll be great!” Lyra interjected. “I’ve been studying Noah’s combat footage from the Nexus Arena, and the synergy potential between void manipulation and momentum nullification is fascinating. Diana, have you considered how your abilities might—”

“No,” Diana cut her off. “And I don’t plan to.”

“Right, of course not. But theoretically—”

“Still no.”

Kelvin looked between them with growing concern. “Are we sure we can’t request a team transfer?”

“Too late now,” Noah sighed. “We make this work, or we don’t come back.”

—

Four hours later, they stood in the equipment bay, encased in their Category 4 beast gear suits. The suits were marvels of engineering sleek, form-fitting, and surprisingly comfortable despite being constructed from materials that could withstand extremes Noah couldn’t even imagine.

“Movement check,” Lucas commanded, demonstrating the fluid motion the suits allowed. Despite their obvious protection, they felt almost like second skin.

Kelvin was practically glowing with excitement as he examined the suit’s technical specifications on his integrated display. “These are incredible! The power distribution system alone must have taken years to perfect.”

“Focus, Pithon,” Diana said, though she too was studying her suit’s capabilities with professional interest.

“I am focused! I’m focused on how amazing this technology is! The whole suit is basically one giant beast core integration system!”

Lyra nodded enthusiastically. “The environmental adaptation protocols are fascinating too! Did you know these suits can maintain life support for up to seventy-two hours in complete vacuum?”

“Let’s hope we don’t test that feature,” Sophie said dryly.

As they ran through final equipment checks, Noah noticed a small group of men in expensive civilian clothes being escorted through the station. They looked important—the kind of people who made decisions that affected thousands of lives from the comfort of climate-controlled offices. Something about them made him uneasy, though he couldn’t put his finger on why.

“Probably corporate oversight,” Lucas observed, following Noah’s gaze. “The kind of people who fund projects like this usually want to see their investment in action.”

“Or the kind who pull funding if they don’t like what they see,” Kelvin added darkly.

Before anyone could respond further, their transport alert chimed. It was time to go.

The shuttle ride to their deployment zone passed in relative silence, each team member lost in their own thoughts. Through the viewports, stars wheeled slowly past, and gradually, their destination came into view.

The asteroid cluster was massive—several major rocks that dwarfed their shuttle, surrounded by smaller debris. As they approached, Noah began to make out details on the largest asteroid’s surface. It was pocked with craters and scarred with deep chasms, but something about its formation seemed… wrong.

“Those aren’t natural formations,” Sophie observed, studying the same features that had caught Noah’s attention.

Lucas was examining his scanner readouts with increasing concern. “Energy signatures are stronger than the initial reports indicated. Much stronger.”

Diana, who had been silent for most of the journey, suddenly spoke up. “Those aren’t asteroid impact craters.”

“What do you mean?” Lyra asked, her enthusiasm finally tempered by growing unease.

Diana pointed at the largest formations on the asteroid’s surface. “The size, the spacing, the geometric precision. Those are landing impressions.”

Kelvin’s face paled as the implication hit him. “Landing impressions from what?”

The shuttle’s proximity alarms began chiming as they drew closer to the asteroid. Through the viewports, they could now see the formations clearly—three massive, circular depressions in the rock, each one perfectly sized for…

“Drop pods,” Lucas said grimly. “Same configuration as the ones from Cannadah.”

Noah felt his blood run cold. They’d encountered Harbinger drop pods before, but always after the fact, always as empty, scarred remnants. These looked fresh.

Their pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom: “Pathfinder Seven, we’re detecting movement on the asteroid surface. Multiple signatures.”

Through the viewport, they could see shapes moving among the rocky formations—tall, angular figures with distinctive single horns protruding from their foreheads. Even at this distance, their predatory grace was unmistakable.

Lyra’s enthusiasm had completely evaporated. “How many are there?”

“Three confirmed,” the pilot reported. “Possibly more.”

Diana’s expression hadn’t changed, but Noah could see the tension in her posture. “One-horns are supposed to be a match for an entire squadron.”

“Correction,” Lucas said quietly, his scanner now showing detailed readings. “Three one-horns. On what we thought was an asteroid but appears to be a staging ground.”

The shuttle continued its approach, and the full scope of what they were facing became clear. What they had taken for a natural asteroid formation was actually an engineered platform—a forward operating base in the outer reaches of the solar system.

Sophie gripped Noah’s hand tightly. “This isn’t reconnaissance anymore.”

“No,” Noah agreed, watching the Harbinger figures moving with purposeful coordination across the alien structure. “This is first contact.”

One of the three creatures turned toward their approaching shuttle, its single horn gleaming with powers that spoke beyond anything they had trained for.

Kelvin’s voice was barely a whisper: “Fuccck!

The Harbinger suddenly crouched low against the asteroid’s surface. Its single horn gleamed darkly as it fixed its gaze directly on their shuttle.

“It’s looking at us,” Lyra whispered, her voice barely audible.

Without warning, the creature launched itself from the rocky platform with explosive force. The section of asteroid where it had been standing simply disintegrated, sending chunks of rock spinning into the void like deadly shrapnel.

“Holy shit,” Kelvin breathed, his eyes locked on the scanner readings. “Guys, it’s moving at—”

“Six hundred kilometers per hour!” Lyra exclaimed, staring at the readout. “In vacuum! No propulsion systems detected!”

The Harbinger hurtled toward them through space with terrifying grace, its massive form cutting through the void like a living missile. Its scaled hide gleamed in the starlight as it closed the distance.

Every alarm on the shuttle began screaming at once. Red lights bathed the cabin as proximity warnings, collision alerts, and threat detection systems all activated simultaneously.

“INCOMING! DIRECT COLLISION COURSE!” the ship’s automated systems announced in urgent synthetic tones.

Lucas immediately took command, his voice cutting through the chaos with military precision. “Noah, stay on me! Whatever happens, don’t let go!”

“Kelvin!” Noah shouted over the alarms. “Can you—”

“Already on it!” Kelvin’s eyes had taken on that distinctive glow that meant he was interfacing directly with technology. His hands pressed against the shuttle’s control console, and suddenly the ship lurched sideways as he overrode the pilot’s controls with his technopathic abilities.

Through the viewport, the Harbinger adjusted its trajectory with impossible agility, compensating for their evasive maneuver without losing any speed.

“It’s still coming!” Sophie yelled, gripping her restraints as the shuttle shook under Kelvin’s desperate piloting.

Diana’s face had gone pale, but her voice remained steady. “Forty seconds to impact!”

Noah could see intelligence—cold, calculating, and utterly alien—in the creature’s dark eyes as it closed the distance between them.