Construction on the F.O.S. starship began during the Golden Age's mid-to-late years.
Our next target is the stars!
At that time, Project Eden was advancing at full steam, bringing with it visions of interstellar colonization.
Determined to rise to the occasion, F.O.S. superintendents channeled immense resources into a breathtaking ambition: rebuilding the entire college as a starship among the stars.
When at last the colossal vessel was complete, it struck awe into every beholder. All believed it would lift F.O.S. students to heights never before reached.
But now, the great starship drifts helplessly through the fog, its engines cold and silent.
It once stood testament to the dreams of generations. Now it lies stranded, a behemoth in decay, strangled by the relentless churn of fog.
Through rifts torn in the expanse, twisted "creatures" emerge in an endless tide, dragging themselves onto the deck—
BANG!
Move it, Elianna! No time to waste!
After lowering her smoking gun, Vanessa slams the rear hatch shut with her boot. Just as it seals, sharp claws wedge into the gap, their scrape against the metal a sound that gnaws at the nerves.
The instructor, Elianna, reacts instantly, swinging a heavy metal crowbar down hard upon the claws.
GAAWR—
The severed limbs spray thick fluids across the floor. Elianna seizes the opening, slamming her full weight against the door. Outside, the wounded creatures howl and claw furiously at the barrier.
Ugh, persistent bastards...
Heavy slams rock the door. The creatures throw themselves against it, and even the bulkhead trembles. The lock whines in protest. Elianna, breathing ragged, turns and switches on her terminal's light, yet the beam scarcely pierces the gloom.
Once spotless, the medical bay now drowns in thick, murky fog. Their light pushes back only a small sphere of the gloom, its edges already dissolving into the haze.
...Could be more of them hiding in here.
Her gaze sweeps over the wreckage littering the medical bay. When she speaks, it is barely a whisper.
Nia, we'll hold the line. You find that serum. Remember what I taught you about the labels. Stay sharp. Quick and clean.
...Understood, ma'am!
Without a moment's pause, the student in the protective suit dives into the ransacked room.
The hammering against the metal door intensifies, a massive, thunderous heartbeat that shakes the walls. The air hangs thick with disinfectant, laced with rot. The flashlight cuts through swirling gray fog that recoils and shifts like something sentient.
Time slows to a trickle. Crate by crate, Nia rips through the supplies, her eyes darting across each label with frantic precision.
Elianna, ten o'clock... behind the medicine cabinet!
Her voice is swallowed by the crack of gunfire. The line of iron cabinets slams to the floor, making a wall of noise that shakes the room.
RAAARGH!!!
From the shadows, a twisted form lunges forth, its claws rake the alloy floor with a piercing shriek.
!!!
Nia! Eyes forward! Keep looking!
Dagger drawn, Elianna moves without hesitation, stepping between Nia and the approaching danger.
Y-yes!
Though her voice shakes, her hands never falter. She tears into another crate, then another. Wrong. Wrong again...
The tight space rings with gunfire and the whistle of steel as Vanessa and Elianna press the creature back. Nia's teeth clench. Faster. Please, faster—
Her eyes land on the crate.
I... I see it! Over there!
There, beneath the overturned cabinets, right where the creature stands. The crate.
Go! Now!
On it!
In a fleeting pause between blows, Nia's jaw sets with sudden resolve. She dives low, sliding under the twisted wreckage, gaze fixed on the crate—
Jagged edges rip through her suit. The tear doesn't register. Both hands seize the handle, clutching it with the strength of someone holding onto hope itself.
Got it!
Good! Get to cover. We're ending this!
As soon as Nia is safe, Vanessa's gunfire erupts in a suppressing wave. Elianna takes to the air in a single explosive motion, her dagger driving downward into the eye socket of the creature lunging at her back, brutal and precise.
Alright, it's over. For now.
Sheathing her dagger, Elianna delivers a sharp kick to the creature to confirm the kill. Satisfied, she crosses over to inspect Nia's protective suit.
Just a scratch on the outer layer. Nothing to worry about.
See? You kept your head under pressure. That's a pass for tactical support, at least. Should earn you some extra field credits when we get back to F.O.S.
In a situation like that, if you could read the eyes or somewhere else as the weak point and act on it? That'd be a solid eighty in tactical support, right at the door of top marks.
She checks the seal on the serum crate, her voice steady as she works to keep Nia's morale from cracking.
Tch... You're seriously grading her right now?
Reloading with one hand, Vanessa flicks a glance at Elianna.
Elianna, drop the academy scorecard. She's not in a classroom now.
Back at F.O.S., passing grades may get her through finals and into the Construct matching hall with her chin up. But out here in this hellhole...
"Passing" just means you get to be next on the casualty list.
Nia stiffens at her words. Elianna exhales a sigh.
I know, Vanessa. But out here, she still needs something to hold onto.
A frown crosses Vanessa's face. She doesn't answer, and her gaze drops to the crate instead.
The status of the serum?
Seal's clean, crate's intact. Might still be within its expiration window, even.
Forty doses a crate... Still not enough.
Back at the temporary safe zone, no fewer than fifty gravely injured lie waiting for the serum.
It'll do for now. Valen and I recovered two more crates on yesterday's supply run. Expired... by a few days, but they should still hold. And after that...
"After that."
Vanessa echoes the words, biting down hard on the phrase.
...Vanessa.
...
Without another word, her hand comes up. A shot rings out, catching the arm of a Corrupted as it claws through the window behind Elianna.
Beyond the glass, gray fog roils and churns. The eerie space yawns infinite in every direction.
"After that."
Once more, she repeats the words.
Elianna hears what she doesn't say.
If they were on the surface, Vanessa wouldn't doubt it. She'd keep them alive until rescue. She'd keep them alive here forever if she had to. But this—
Above the starship, the dome is dark, no longer holding the stars. Only gray fog and Punishing Virus, thick enough to drown in.
The comms tower is silent. Electromagnetic signals are dead. The zone's boundaries can't be mapped, and beyond the small reach of the compact Central Purification Filter, exploration is only on foot.
The disaster hit without warning. They still don't know where they are. Or what this is.
In this fog-shrouded void, there is no day or night. Magnetic disruption has rendered every mechanical clock useless. Vanessa tracks time by the most primitive means left to her: an hourglass, once a collector's piece, now a lifeline.
This is them now—
The F.O.S. starship. Once proud, once glorious, now suspended in gray amber like a fossil.
When the F.O.S. starship came under attack and the emergency protocols ejected it from Babylonia, everyone assumed the worst was already over. An accident, they told themselves.
The communications tower had taken damage in the chaos, cutting off immediate contact with Babylonia. Still, the starship could track Babylonia's position, and that was enough. Everyone believed it was only a matter of time before they found their way back.
Then the sky ripped apart without warning, revealing a rift straight out of hell.
No one ever understood how the F.O.S. starship ended up there.
When Vanessa opened her eyes after the violent impact, gray mist was already pouring in. A lethal concentration of the Punishing Virus swept through the entire starship in an instant.
Alarms howled. Red warnings blazed across the dome. The protective shield collapsed like paper at first contact, utterly useless.
Is this... some kind of training drill? Or...
Ngh...
The Punishing Virus devoured his lungs and burrowed deeper, gnawing into his organs until blood spilled from his lips.
I... cough...
His hands scrabbled at his throat, desperate for words that would never come, before his body folded and dropped like a spoiled fruit.
The Punishing Virus surged through the starship's shattered shield in deadly waves, and the gray mist crawled over the floor with a living will.
P-Punishing Virus!
This... this is a combat sim, right...?
She was a first-year cadet, born and raised in Babylonia, and had never faced the Punishing Virus. Her trembling hands groped for the weapon at her waist, but her fingers wouldn't obey.
WARNING. WARNING. Punishing Virus concentration exceeds safety threshold. Please put on a protective suit or respiratory equipment immediately.
WARNING. WARNING...
The mask... I need my—
A hollow thump. The terminal hit the floor.
WARNING. WARNING. Punishing Virus concentration exceeds safety threshold. Please put on a protective suit...
Still the terminal droned, reciting instructions no one was listening to. Her fingers closed tight around her weapon as she stopped breathing entirely.
Watch your steps! Follow the emergency lights! Get to the compact filter!
Elianna shouted until her voice gave out, desperately directing people toward safety, but her words were swallowed whole by the screaming and chaos.
Follow the emergency lights! The starship has a compact filter. Don't panic...
Cough...
WARNING. WARNING. Punishing Virus contamination detected. Sealing all airlocks—
No! We have to override the airlocks! They can't seal now!
Let that door seal, and hundreds of students would be condemned to die, trapped within these walls.
I'll find a way to—
She skidded to a stop before the door.
Red light flickered across the control panel, the Punishing Virus having eaten through its systems. But the manual override... Elianna's hands scrambled behind her, prying open the lower maintenance hatch.
Cough... There's no time.
Professor Vermeer!
The system's fried. Someone has to go below and brace the drive gears manually to force this door open.
The elderly professor hacked in broken spasms, bloodshot eyes peering through his glasses.
I designed these systems. Let me do my job.
Elianna never got the chance to speak. Professor Vermeer turned without a word and threw himself into the maintenance passage, where gray-white mist churned like smoke from a pyre.
The dense Punishing Virus devoured his skin on contact. Blood ran from his eyes like tears. Sight gone, the old professor crawled forward on nothing but instinct.
Thirty seconds. A minute... At a minute thirty-five, his fingers closed around the gear—the one that meant life or death for everyone.
Open up... come on!
A strength beyond his years flooded his limbs. The rusted gear groaned, then gave.
With a deafening crash, the heavy alloy hatch blew open.
The door's jammed open! Go, squeeze through! Follow the emergency lights, keep going!
Elianna's voice reached him as if from very far away.
The students... did they... make it...
The last breath slipped from his nostrils. He crumpled in the narrow passage, his gray, lifeless eyes fixed on something that was no sky of Earth.
Panic caught like flame. Survivors fled in every direction, desperate and directionless. But what escape remained? This eerie domain had already swallowed the starship whole.
Your tactical pouches have emergency masks!
A deafening gunshot cracked the chaos wide open. Frightened, lost eyes swung toward the sound like lambs catching the voice of their shepherd.
There, Vanessa stood beneath the F.O.S. monument, a basic emergency mask her only shield.
Elianna, take your squad and get that compact purification filter online.
Got it!
All operational Constructs, evacuate the wounded to the purified zone. Now.
Copy!
The rest of you, masks on. Thirty seconds to reach the nearest escape pod and suit up. Move.
One order followed another, shouted across the hall. With someone to rally behind, the survivors jolted into motion.
Masks were pulled on. Protective suits were hauled from the escape pods. A low hum rose through the starship as the compact Central Purification Filter on the port side stuttered, then stirred to life.
On the Punishing Virus detector, a faint blue light blinked awake, its glow falling across Vanessa's pale face.
Th-thank god! The filters are on!
But no one had time to breathe. Rift after rift split the air overhead, and from them spilled aberrant creatures—mindless, merciless, striking at everyone in sight.
The battle had begun unannounced.
Alright, suits are intact, serum's still good. Let's move...
Vanessa... Vanessa?
Elianna's gaze follows Vanessa's to the square ahead, where bloodstains paint the ground... where bodies lie still.
The assault was so swift, so insidious, that not even the veteran commandants stationed aboard stood a chance. The Punishing Virus spread before anyone could react.
The real enemy remains unseen, and the F.O.S. starship has already been gutted.
...That's not on you. You reacted faster than anyone could've asked.
...Heh. Who said I'm standing here feeling sorry for them?
Standard tactical pouches all come with emergency respirators. The second that alarm sounded, putting on the mask should've been instinct.
...
Vanessa looks away.
This is war. The battlefield doesn't hand out second chances.
...You're right. The battlefield doesn't forgive.
But that's fine. I'll make sure they learn what they need to survive. Every last one of them is coming back to Earth in one piece.
Elianna lets out a sigh.
Alright, we need to head back. The wounded are waiting on this serum. I found some unopened medical supplies too. We'll bring those along.
Nia, grab those spare bandages. Get ready, we're pushing through on my signal... Nia?
...Y-yes!
The frightened student straightens up.
Eyes sharp, cadet!
You zone out and those things get a claw in you, don't expect me to come playing hero.
Safety off, Vanessa slips through the scattered furniture in the medical bay and gestures to Elianna. The hatch swings open—
Gunfire tears through the air.
She hammers the encroaching creatures back from the hatch, and without breaking rhythm, swings her gun stock into a lunging enemy as she reloads. She holds the line, covering Nia's escape while the student flees the room with a bulging pack of medical supplies.
Something's not right. The medbay should still be inside the edge of the filter's range... so why are these things swarming us?
...What do you mean exactly?
She drives a skulking enemy back against the wall, then checks her remaining mags. The frown that crosses her face says everything.
And now she's running short on ammo.
Anyway, we gotta get back...
A low, muffled thud rolls down the corridor. Behind Elianna, the wall is dissolving, ragged holes spreading like rot as the dense Punishing Virus devours the metal—
Damn it... It's a rift! How the hell did a rift tear open here?!
Elianna pushes Nia back hard and opens fire on the rift, but the thick fog floods through before her shots can land. The screeches of monsters ring out right at their flank.
Nia! Run!
Together, they lay down a wall of gunfire, but the rift only yawns wider, swallowing every round. It isn't enough.
Elianna! Behind you!
The fog splits. A hidden monster bursts through, claws gleaming as it lunges—
Ngh!
The claws shred through Elianna's shoulder in a flash.
Instructor Elianna! Are you—
Elianna stumbles, pain searing through her. Nia spins around at once, reaching to pull her back to her feet.
Take this!
She knows exactly how this ends.
As the mechanical claws slide from her shoulder with a wet, cold rasp, Elianna hears it: the sound of her own death. Her suit is breached. She feels the Punishing Virus bleeding through the tear, gnawing into her flesh.
Go... get to the hatch, now! Don't let them breach the safe zone!
Elianna thrusts her gun into Nia's grip and lurches toward the control panel.
Her blood speckles the static-filled screen as she works. Teeth grinding into her tongue, she drags herself back from the edge of unconsciousness.
Elianna, seal that hatch! I'm almost dry here. I can't hold them!
Vanessa's gunfire never falters. Falling back isn't an option, not an inch. One step backward, and the corridor ruptures open. The safe zone will be overrun.
The system... it's not responding...!
The Punishing Virus creeps deeper, and Elianna's sight begins to smear at the edges. Gunfire, Nia shouting her name—it all falls away, muffled and far, like sounds traveling through deep water.
All that remains is the hammering of her own heart.
Then find the manual lever!
Vanessa dumps the spent mag and reaches down for her tactical pouch.
Her fingers find only one magazine left.
No, this won't do.
Vanessa turns toward Nia.
Nia! Open fire!
The white fog strobes red with every muzzle flash. Nia grips the gun against her chest, her fingers shaking uncontrollably.
Shoot, cadet! Or we're all dead!
Elianna's warmth still lingers on the gun, and it sears against Nia's palm. Wet heat tracks down her cheek. Blood or tears, she can't tell anymore.
She shuts off her mind. She squeezes the trigger.
Together, their gunfire just barely holds the line.
Elianna!
A brutal kick sends an enemy stumbling back through the hatch. Vanessa doesn't turn. She just shouts Elianna's name toward the other side.
...I'm on it!
Elianna's fingers are dead weight now, nerves eaten away by the Punishing Virus spreading beneath her suit.
Groping through the numbness, her hand closes around the lever marked "Emergency Manual Shutdown."
Initiating... emergency lockdown...
With every ounce of strength left in her, she throws herself against the lever.
Red lights whirl and electronic alarms scream above, a death knell ringing through the corridor.
Idiot! The gun's dry!
Vanessa tears the spent gun from Nia's grip, seizes her by the collar, and hurls her toward the hatch.
Elianna, status—
Whatever she was about to say strangles in her throat. Her eyes lock on the gaping rip in Elianna's suit.
Cough...
Elianna's body gives out. She crumples against the control panel, blood bubbling at her lips as she sinks to the floor.
Take the supplies... Go...
...Instructor Elianna?
Nia... keep moving. Don't stop.
When you make it out... I'll give you an A... in tactical support...
Each breath scrapes through her, ragged and wet. With what little strength remains, she rips off her tactical pouch and hurls it toward Vanessa.
...
Vanessa...
Through the shattered haze of her visor, Elianna locks eyes with Vanessa.
She tries to speak. Her mouth moves, but thick blood floods out. The sound that follows is so faint it barely exists.
Get the kids... home...
It comes out as little more than a whisper, but Vanessa hears every syllable like a bell strike.
Vanessa's jaw sets. She spins on her heel and runs for the hatch without a backward glance.
No—Instructor Elianna is still back there!
The hatch drops like a guillotine—
She's gone.
Vanessa crushes Nia against her chest and holds on.
No—she's still alive! Look at her! She's still moving! We can still save her!
Nia shrieks until her voice gives out, bucking and thrashing, every muscle straining to escape Vanessa's grip.
...She's just hurt! I have medicine... bandages... and... and the serum!
She can only watch as the hatch slams down, the shrinking gap stealing everything from her—
Instructor Elianna! Wake up! Please, look at me!
Elianna is dead!
Vanessa drives Nia to the ground, pinning her beneath a hard stare.
She's dead!
No, that can't be—!
We still have serum... we have supplies... if she could just make it back—
THUD—
With grinding, unstoppable momentum, the heavy alloy hatch slams down, sealing away the hell of ash-white fog and shrieking monsters beyond.
Instructor...
Instructor... Elianna...
With a final, grinding clang, the gate seals shut, cutting the line between the living and the dead. Nia stares at the empty door, unblinking.
Then the tears break free. Everything she'd held back—the terror, the grief—floods out of her, unstoppable.
She drops to her knees beside the serum case, eyes fixed on it, as though she could burn the last few minutes out of existence if she just stared long enough.
How... how is this...
But we were just...
...
Vanessa doesn't move. She stands before the sealed gate in silence.
She should be used to this. The war. The dying. The way people are there one second and gone the next.
Blood trickles from her cracked lips, the taste of iron filling her mouth. She runs her tongue over the wound, then bends to retrieve Elianna's tactical pouch.
Done crying?
...
The grief burns itself out, leaving only numbness behind. Nia's face is wet, her eyes fixed on the flashing warning lights above the door.
Then get up. Grab the serum.
Don't let her death be a joke.
Vanessa turns away. The shadows swallow her whole.
F.O.S. Starship
The Fog
What was once a vast, open deck is now crammed with salvaged supplies. The compact purification filter has a limited reach, and survival means squeezing into every inch they can shield.
Instructor Raynor... the, um, the third scout team is back. They brought s-some canned rations from the kitchen reserves...
The fresh-faced student trips over his words giving the instructor a report, still not used to being a soldier.
How many cans? What kind? Any of them damaged?
I... I don't know...
...Alright. Take them to the supply team and find Instructor Elianna. She'll walk you through sorting and logging them.
B-but didn't Instructor Elianna go out with Instructor Vanessa? To look for the serum?
Right. Right, she did. Slipped my mind.
Wait... They're still not back? It's been a while. I hope nothing went wrong...
Raynor's eyes are fixed on the hourglass, worry etched into his face. He draws a breath to speak again, then the door groans open. Vanessa steps through, hauling a heavy supply pack in her wake.
...Log this. One sealed serum crate, five unopened rolls of bandages, assorted meds. All from the medbay.
Vanessa... The serum! Thank god, that's exactly what we needed! We have five critically wounded waiting on this...
Raynor snaps the logbook open, logs the supplies as fast as his hands will move, and waves the medical team forward to take them.
Status on the other scout teams?
Teams 1 and 6 are led by Constructs. Pushed deep into the fog toward the far side of the deck, ran into enemy contact head-on, and only one of them made it back. Too many of those rifts out there. We still can't reach the engine room.
Too many wounded, not enough hands. And we're still posting people outside the safe zone perimeter to keep the enemy from breaking through.
Dammit. Next homecoming, we're making it mandatory. Every commandant brings at least two squad members back to campus...
Ah, got sidetracked. Team 2 was supposed to reach the comms tower for repairs. Lost their way in the fog partway there. Only two made it back. I already sent Team 5, Elianna and Valen's old squad, out to search for the missing.
Teams 3 and 4 hit the cafeteria, brought back what food they could carry. Haven't had time to log it yet... Right, where's Elianna?
...
Raynor doesn't catch the gravity in Vanessa's silence. He just keeps talking.
I need her help right now. She's the only one left with biometric access to the backup med cabinet. Logistics has been asking for her. Can't open it without her authorization. We've got wounded from two scout teams waiting on injections, and on top of that...
The screen jumps to the next page, Raynor's fingers flying as he scrolls through the endless checklist.
Look at me, can't keep a single thing straight. Also, the medical pod solution's almost gone. I need to ask her which storage area might have reserves so we can send a team out to grab some.
And the students from Scout Team 3 that just pulled back don't know how to sort supplies, and they're pretty shaken up besides. She's the best one to check on them. And lastly...
Raynor is so absorbed in his checklist that he doesn't see the color drain from Nia's face.
"Elianna, Elianna..."
He rattles on, assigning task after task to the logistics chief, oblivious. Each repetition of that name scrapes across Nia's raw nerves like jagged steel.
I-Instructor...
Nia grits her teeth, the words lodged in her throat. She wants to speak, but nothing comes.
...What's wrong? Worn out? Ah, yeah, I guess... First mission like this, after all...
Elianna's quarters are just in the back. Go lie down for a bit. She won't mind.
Vanessa, you've been quiet. Where is she? Is there heavier cargo that still needs hauling? I can send Scout Team 3 out—
Elianna's dead.
...What? Did she head straight to the storage, or...?
I said Elianna's dead. She's not coming back.
Elianna's de—
Vanessa's words echo from his own lips, and Raynor stops cold.
A rift caught us off guard. It tore through her shoulder, and the Punishing Virus infection hit. She flatlined on the spot.
Register her name on the KIA list. She's not coming back.
But... how? The medbay's mid-ship. Those rifts have never breached the inner hull before!
We'll figure out why it happened.
Vanessa's eyes hold no sorrow, just a forced, unbroken stillness that feels heavier than grief.
Register her name on the KIA list.
And... Nia.
...
Get to the storage bay. Teach Scout Team 3 how to sort those supplies. Use the method Elianna taught you.
...O-on it!
The answer Elianna would have spoken to Vanessa becomes Nia's anchor. Shakily, she leans into the wall, gathers herself, and stands.
B-but...
Raynor stays rooted to the spot, the terminal clutched tight in his white-knuckled hand.
How could... How could Elianna...
...
Vanessa pulls the terminal from Raynor's unresisting grip. The KIA list opens under her touch.
Names. Faces. F.O.S. IDs... Life after life, reduced to entries on a screen.
Vermeer Reggie, Professor of Mechanical Dynamics.
Killed in action during the F.O.S. starship's initial entry into the "anomalous domain." With expert knowledge of the ship's systems, he manually engaged the emergency control lever.
His decisive action created a critical 30-second window that allowed other personnel to survive.
Rena, Student of Command.
Killed in action while conducting reconnaissance in the "anomalous domain."
She was the first to identify the "Chimera" and to make the initial stand against the hostile monsters within the space.
Orson, Student of Mechanical Dynamics.
Killed in action while conducting reconnaissance in the "anomalous domain."
He was trying to map dimensional patterns and fix the starship's location when a rift materialized on the deck.
......
Page after page scrolls by. The screen's cold glow pools in Vanessa's eyes, her fingers tapping softly, the only sound in the crushing quiet.
Elianna Leon, Director of Logistics of F.O.S.
Killed in action aboard the F.O.S. starship, outside the medical bay. When a rift opened in the perimeter of the designated safe zone...
...she manually sealed the hatch while gravely injured, shielding the wounded inside. Cause of death confirmed as rapid-onset Punishing Virus infection.
The system emits a soft beep. The line of green text marking her as alive turns to lifeless gray and files itself into the ever-growing folder.
...Alright. Enough standing around. Move.
No clearance? Pry the damn cabinets open. Don't know how to sort supplies? Pile it all up.
Vanessa brings Elianna's tactical pouch down hard on the table. From its folds, a small storage device clatters loose.
This is...
The terminal reads the storage device. What loads isn't a final message. It's a map, pinpointing every supply cache and storage area aboard the starship. Elianna's final act, laid out in cold data.
...
Pull yourself together and get someone to retrieve the medical supplies you need.
B-but... this was Elianna's...
No buts.
She snaps the terminal shut and tosses it back to Raynor.
Alert everyone. Gather the wounded in one place. From this moment on, no one leaves the safe zone around the filter without my direct order.
But... the comms tower...
Bzzz—
The starship's speakers hiss to life, spitting a thin veil of static into the silence.
Hello—! Hello—! Can you hear me?!
...The comms tower?!
Comms tower repairs complete! Scout Team 5, mission accomplished! Elianna! Did you catch that?!
Heh, I knew it! Your plan worked perfectly!
...The comms tower... They fixed it.
Vanessa's hand smashes onto the comms button.
This is Vanessa, Command. Scout Team 5, hold position at the comms tower. Begin transmitting distress signals immediately.
Huh? Vanessa...? Why are you on the line?
Also, activate the comms tower's tactical radar and sync the holo-map to my terminal.
R-roger!
The radar projection hums to life. Across the terrain grid, hostile signatures bloom in crimson, too many to count, swallowing the map whole.
Damn it... their numbers are still climbing!
It's the rifts—
The words die on her lips. Without warning, the entire starship bucks, a brutal shudder running stem to stern.
What's happening?! Comms tower, report!
Y-yes! Comms tower detecting... spatial anomaly readings...!
Wait... What is this?!
Far across the deck, amid the overwhelming tide of hostile markers, two small green lights flicker onto the map—authenticated F.O.S. signals.
Who went out there? I just gave explicit orders. No one leaves the safe zone without my command...
A frown settles on Vanessa's face. She zooms the display in on the markers, fingers already pulling up their identification data.
...
...[player name]... and Lucia?
