Chapter 318: Code yellow

Chapter 318: Code yellow

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual chatter of recruits discussing training exercises, mission assignments, and the endless speculation about when they’d face real combat again. Team Seven had claimed a corner table, their trays filled with the standard-issue protein rations that somehow managed to taste like everything and nothing simultaneously.

“I still can’t believe those gravitational field generators,” Kelvin was saying between bites, his enthusiasm undimmed by the morning’s physical demands. “The precision required to maintain stable micro-wells across that much space without creating destructive interference patterns—it’s like watching applied physics poetry.”

Diana picked at her food with characteristic dullness. “Poetry doesn’t keep you alive when something’s trying to kill you in vacuum.”

“No, but understanding the underlying principles does,” Noah interjected. “Beaumont’s teaching methods are thorough. She’s not just showing us what works—she’s explaining why it works.”

Sophie nodded, leaning back in her chair. “It’s different from academy training. More… practical, I guess. Less theory, more ‘this will save your life.'”

Lyra, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly perked up with an idea that made her eyes light up. “You know what? We should take a trip outside the station. Get some real practice with everything we’ve learned. I mean, we’re the ones who actually encountered Harbingers in space—we have more practical experience than most of the instructors!”

The suggestion hung in the air for a moment before Lucas set down his fork with a deliberate clink.

“Lyra, leaving the station without senior clearance is a direct violation of protocol,” he said patiently. “We’d be looking at disciplinary action, possible court martial, and definitely removal from the program.”

Diana’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “Listen to you, Grey. Already sounding like a rule-following little soldier.”

Lucas’s jaw tightened. “Rules exist for reasons, Frost.”

“Oh, I know they do,” Diana replied, her tone cooling further. “And part of becoming an actual soldier is learning when to follow orders without question. I’m just amused by how quickly you’ve embraced the chain of command.”

The tension between them fever high, but before it could escalate, Lyra deflated visibly. “Right, of course. I just thought… never mind. It was a stupid idea anyway.”

“Not stupid,” Noah said diplomatically. “Just not practical given our current situation.”

Kelvin, sensing the mood shift, tried to lighten things. “Besides, if Beaumont’s special training is anything like the regular sessions, we’ll get plenty of excitement without having to sneak off station.”

Kelvin paused mid-bite, his fork hovering over the protein ration as something seemed to click in his mind. “You know, thinking about real combat experience… it’s still surreal that our very first mission was classified Green.”

Sophie looked up from her tray. “What do you mean?”

“Green clearance is supposed to be routine resource acquisition in secure zones,” Kelvin explained, his technical mind automatically organizing the information. “Mineral extraction, supply runs, equipment recovery—the kind of missions where the biggest danger is equipment malfunction, not enemy contact.”

Noah frowned. “But we encountered three Harbingers.”

“Exactly!” Kelvin’s enthusiasm was building again. “Do you realize how statistically impossible that should have been? Green zones are supposed to be swept and cleared. We should have been collecting ore samples or salvaging old tech, not fighting for our lives against an entity that shouldn’t have existed in that sector.”

Diana’s expression remained flat, but there was a sharpness to her attention now. “So either intelligence was wrong, or our mission wasn’t actually Green clearance.”

“Or something changed after the clearance was issued,” Lucas added, his tactical mind working through the implications.

Kelvin nodded vigorously. “That’s what makes it so crazy. According to the guide I read, most recruits should spend months cycling through White clearance—just training and simulations. Then they graduate to actual Green missions, which are supposed to be milk runs. Yellow clearance is reconnaissance in contested territory, where you might encounter hostiles but you’re specifically going in expecting potential contact.”

He gestured with his fork for emphasis. “Red clearance is direct engagement—active combat zones where enemy contact is guaranteed. And Black…” He lowered his voice slightly. “Black clearance is classified operations that officially don’t exist.”

Lyra had been listening with growing understanding. “So we basically skipped from training directly to what should have been a Yellow or Red situation.”

“While carrying Green authorization,” Noah concluded. “Which means either we were incredibly unlucky, or someone knew more about that sector than they let on.”

The implications hung heavy in the air. Their first mission had been presented as routine, but the reality had been anything but. The question was whether that represented institutional incompetence or deliberate deception.

“Makes you wonder what they’re not telling us about future assignments,” Diana said quietly.

Lucas’s jaw tightened again, but this time with resolve rather than frustration. “Which is why following protocol matters. If clearance levels mean anything, we need to trust the system while staying ready for it to be wrong.”

Kelvin leaned back in his chair. “At least Beaumont’s training is preparing us for the reality instead of the paperwork. Most Green clearance teams wouldn’t have survived what we faced.”

The conversation had circled back to their constrained circumstances, but now with a deeper understanding of just how unusual their introduction to military service had been. They weren’t just trainees anymore—they were survivors of an encounter that should never have happened.

And that raised uncomfortable questions about what Command had planned for them next.

—

The next day after the first official training came the second one and it was just as brutal as anything. But just like the previous day, Noah enjoyed the training more than anyone and felt he was adapting to space combat.

After that, everyone was released to do whatever they wanted with their day. There was no deployment or any mission so it was a free for all day. For most anyways, but not team 7.

Instead of the cafeteria or their assigned stations, they found themselves standing at the edge of what appeared to be an alien landscape.

Orange-tinted trees stretched impossibly high above them, their crystalline branches catching light that seemed to come from no visible source. The ground beneath their feet was spongy and organic, covered in phosphorescent moss that pulsed with each step. Strange rock formations jutted from the forest floor like ancient monuments, their surfaces carved with symbols that hurt to look at directly.

“Stay together,” Lucas commanded automatically, his military training overriding his confusion about their sudden change in environment. “Whatever this place is, we need to—”

The ground began to rumble.

“Movement!” Sophie called out, her scanners picked up a huge wave of energy approaching their current location “Something big, multiple contacts!”

The crystalline trees around them started to sway despite the absence of any wind. Then the rocks began to move—not rolling or sliding, but lifting into the air with predatory intent before hurling themselves toward the team with bone-crushing force.

“Scatter!” Lucas ordered, diving left as a boulder the size of a shuttle crashed into the spot where he’d been standing.

Noah rolled right, pulling out his standard-issue blaster as more projectiles filled the air around them. The weapon felt familiar in his hands despite the alien environment, its targeting system automatically adjusting for the strange atmospheric conditions.

“Contacts coming in fast!” Kelvin shouted, his own blaster already charging. Through the orange haze of the forest, shapes were moving—dozens of them, maybe hundreds. These creatures looked like balls of wool with legs of spiders. Category 3 beasts with sleek, predatory forms and too many eyes, their hunting calls echoing through the crystalline canopy.

Diana stepped forward, her hands spread wide as she activated her momentum nullification abilities. Dead zones appeared in the air around them—pockets of space where the hurling rocks simply stopped mid-flight, suspended motionless until her concentration shifted elsewhere.

“I can’t cover everything!” she called out, sweat already beading on her forehead from the effort. “Too many projectiles, too wide an area!”

Sophie’s blaster whined as it charged, calculations running through her mind as she tried to find the optimal firing solutions. Lyra stood beside her, her own weapon ready, finger steady on the trigger despite the chaos erupting around them.

The first wave of beasts burst through the treeline like a living avalanche. Noah’s blaster fired in rapid succession, each shot finding its mark with lethal precision. But for every creature that fell, two more seemed to take its place.

“We can’t hold this position!” Lucas analyzed the tactical situation even as he fired controlled bursts into the approaching horde. “Kelvin, can you find us an escape route?”

Kelvin’s eyes were already glowing as he interfaced with his portable scanner, trying to map their surroundings while simultaneously laying down covering fire. “There’s a canyon system about two clicks northeast! But we’ll have to fight through at least three more waves to reach it!”

Another barrage of rocks filled the air. Diana created a massive nullification zone directly in front of them, but Noah could see the strain it was putting on her. Her abilities were powerful, but they required intense concentration and couldn’t cover every angle of attack.

“Leapfrog formation!” Lucas commanded. “Diana, hold the zones as long as you can! Everyone else, covering fire while we move!”

They began a fighting retreat through the alien forest, Lucas coordinating their movements with the calm of someone born to command. Sophie and Lyra provided steady fire support, their blasters creating a defensive perimeter. Kelvin used his technical abilities to identify weak points in the attacking formations, calling out priority targets.

But it was Noah and Diana who became the tactical backbone of their defense. Noah’s combat analysis identified optimal firing positions and movement routes, while Diana’s nullification zones created momentary safe passages through the chaos.

“Noah, left flank!” Lucas called out as another wave of beasts tried to outflank them.

Noah was already moving, his blaster tracking targets with inhuman precision. He’d noticed the beasts’ pack behavior—they were coordinating their attacks, trying to funnel the team into kill zones. But their coordination also created patterns he could exploit.

“Diana! Nullification zone thirty degrees right, fifteen meters out!”

Diana responded instantly, creating a dead zone that caught an entire pack of beasts mid-leap, leaving them suspended and vulnerable to concentrated fire.

The fighting continued for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. The orange forest became a maze of energy blasts, suspended projectiles, and the howls of alien predators. Through it all, Lucas kept them moving, kept them coordinated, kept them alive.

Finally, they reached the canyon Kelvin had identified—a narrow chasm that would limit the beasts’ ability to surround them. As they took defensive positions among the rocks, the attacking creatures seemed to hesitate, as if reaching some invisible boundary.

Then, without warning, the beasts simply stopped. The floating rocks fell harmlessly to the ground. The orange forest began to shimmer and fade, dissolving like a mirage until they found themselves standing in the familiar confines of a training facility.

Lieutenant Beaumont emerged from an observation booth, her hands coming together in slow, deliberate applause.

“Impressive,” she said, her tone carrying genuine approval. “That simulation is typically reserved for outer space soldiers with a minimum of six months field experience. You not only survived it—you achieved the highest completion rating on record.”

The team looked at each other, adrenaline still coursing through their systems, trying to process the transition from life-or-death combat to sterile training facility.

“Now,” Beaumont continued, her expression shifting to the analytical mask they’d come to expect, “let’s discuss what you did right and what would have gotten you killed in a real engagement.”