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Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil.
Ephesians 6:10-11
The Edge We Need
The Confederation Navy Headquarters orbited the gas giant Zebulun, a glittering bastion of duralloy and gravitic shielding that hummed with the pulse of war. Lieutenant Wade Winston Kovacs stepped off the shuttle ramp into a maelstrom of activity—officers barking orders, drones ferrying ammunition, and the distant thrum of fusion drives echoing through the hangar. His tattered Eden rags were gone, replaced by a crisp Ranger uniform, but the weight of six months’ survival clung to him like a second skin. Beside him, Ensign Kristen Kovacs, now in navy whites, adjusted her Navy insignia, her hazel eyes scanning the chaos with analytical calm. Jay and Mayumi Ringler followed, their Lieutenant bars gleaming, though Jay’s quiet prayer and Mayumi’s grip on her scanner betrayed their shared tension.
A Marine escort, ramrod-straight and expressionless, led them through labyrinthine corridors to a high-security briefing room. The door hissed open, revealing a chamber dominated by a holographic star map and a table of flag officers, their uniforms heavy with ribbons and braids. General Redside, his craggy face etched with resolve, stood at the head, flanked by Admiral Kitzler—Kristen’s father, his silver hair a stark contrast to his stern gaze—and a dozen others, their eyes weighing the newcomers.
Wade felt like a recruit again, out of place among the brass, his Carthis 7 days flashing through his mind. But Redside’s nod, a flicker of respect, grounded him. “Lieutenant Kovacs,” the general said, his voice a low rumble. “Your intel’s kicked the hornet’s nest. Let’s get the rest of it.”
Wade swallowed, stepping to the holo-display, Kristen at his side. The data core from Eden, its RAI glyphs glinting, powered up, projecting images of the bone circle and Chimera Husk. “The Skravaks aren’t aliens,” Wade began, his voice steady despite the room’s scrutiny. “They’re bioengineered insects, laced with human DNA, puppets of a rogue AI—RAI, we call it. Eden’s lab proved it.” He gestured to Kristen, who activated a recording of the probe’s effect, its pulse disintegrating the swarm’s attack instantly. “This tech kills them on contact. It’s our edge.”
Mayumi stepped forward, her scanner linked to the holo, displaying RAI signal patterns. “We cracked their codes and can disrupt their communications,” she said, her tone precise. “We can jam their network, blind their drones, and cripple their coordination. The code exposed the RAI weaknesses, it also tipped their hand that they’re massing in X-ray sector for a counterstrike.”
Jay, his faith anchoring his words, added, “The RAI’s predictable in its arrogance. It underestimates us, thinks we’re ignorant slugs. The probe tech and broken codes will exploit that—we hit its weak points, and its whole plan folds.” His eyes met Redside’s, unflinching, a Ranger’s resolve forged in the heat of combat and survival.
The officers sat stunned, murmurs rippling through the room. Admiral Kitzler leaned forward, his voice sharp. “You’re saying we can turn their own weapons and arrogance against them?” Kristen nodded, her jaw set. “Yes, sir. We’ve adapted the probe tech for field use and Lieutenant Ringler’s in its head. Give us five hours and we’ll have the tech ready.”
Redside’s fist tapped the table, silencing the room. “Outstanding. Dekar-9’s the RAI’s next target—a key planet, their staging ground for X-ray sector. We hit them there, use this intel to break their back. Kovacs, Ringler, you’re with the Ranger Regiment. You two,” pointing to Mayumi first, “I want you with me on the ground to be a part of my intel staff analyzing RAI signals. Ensign Kovacs, you’ll stay here on the Dominion, getting that bug killing tech tested and operational. Questions?”
Mayumi joined General Redside’s intelligence staff, her scanner already humming with RAI data, her analytical mind poised to dissect the enemy’s signals. Kristen, clutching the Eden lab’s probe, bound for the R&D labs to perfect the “Anti-Skravak Tech” she’d dubbed the “Neurostorm.” “We should have a surprise for the bugs in two or three hours,” she told Redside, her tone brimming with confidence, her hazel eyes alight with purpose. The general’s nod was hearty, a rare spark of approval in his craggy visage.
The farewells were brief but heartfelt—handshakes, a quick embrace, Jay’s murmured prayer echoing Psalm 27:1. Wade’s heart raced, but he shook his head. The room dissolved into action, officers dispersing to their commands. As the room cleared Kristen and Wade embraced knowing the stakes were high and they may not see each other again. Wade saw pride in her tear-filled eyes—pride and fear. “You know I’ll come back for you,” Wade said with a slight tremor in his voice. She simply replied, “Always.” They were going to war. He watched his teammates, his family, vanish into the headquarter’s organized chaos.
Old Comrades, New Mission
The briefing room’s artificial gravity yielded to the lighter tug of the Confederation Navy HQ’s corridors as General Redside ushered Lieutenants Wade Kovacs and Jay Ringler toward the 2nd Ranger Battalion’s staging bay. The vast hangar thrummed with activity—Thunderhawk dropships whining to life, gear clattering, and Rangers moving with disciplined urgency checking weapons and ammunition. Redside’s stride was unyielding, his craggy face set as he approached a knot of officers standing before a holo-display of Dekar-9’s terraformed terrain. “Colonel Varnham,” he said, his voice slicing through the clamor, “meet Lieutenants Kovacs and Ringler—Eden’s survivors, the men who were a part of the team that broke the RAI’s code.”
Colonel Varnham, the battalion’s commander, pivoted, his lean frame and steel-gray eyes sizing them up with a veteran’s precision. Beside him stood his company commanders—Captains Venn, Markov, and Lin, their uniforms sharp yet worn by battle. Captain Venn, his weathered face breaking into a familiar grin, locked eyes with Wade, a spark of recognition from recruiting days on Mars, tales of Wade’s exploits, and his admonitions in the mess hall the day the Skravaks invaded New Quantico. Wade’s pulse quickened under their scrutiny, his Lieutenant’s bars feeling heavier than his pulse rifle, but Venn’s nod steeled him. “Kovacs,” Varnham said, “you’ll take 3rd Platoon, Alpha Company under Captain Lin. Their last platoon leader bought it on Triton-4—Ringler, you’re with 2nd Platoon, Bravo Company, under Captain Markov. Keep them tight.”
Venn stepped forward, his grin widening. “Hold on, Colonel, sir. I’ve tracked Kovacs since he was a scrawny pup. Survived New Quantico, got intel from the first Skravak ship—this one’s a hero. I say Markov and Lin arm wrestle me for him.” His tone was half-jesting, but his eyes gleamed with pride, drawing nervous chuckles from the other captains. Markov raised an eyebrow, Lin smirked, but Varnham’s gravelly voice cut through, stern yet amused. “Enough, Venn. Kovacs is yours—don’t make me regret it.” The levity faded, Varnham’s gaze locking on Wade. “Your intel’s our edge, Lieutenant. Don’t squander it.”
As Wade approached his new platoon, Alex Torres and Edwin Briggs, standing at attention with their squads, broke ranks as Venn signaled. Alex’s crooked grin, unchanged from their early days together, masked the excitement in his eyes, a nod to their new leader. “Lieutenant Kovacs, sir—finally caught up with us?” Briggs, his broad frame towering, yelled at Jay as he passed by to be introduced to his platoon. “LT Ringler, sir! Hope they’re ready for your prayers sir.” Jay’s soft chuckle carried his unshaken faith, “They’ll manage, Sergeant. You just pray our platoon doesn’t squash more bugs than yours.”
Wade assumed command of 1st Platoon, Charlie Company, with Alex and Briggs as squad leaders. The new Rangers, young and battle-tested, eyed him with a mix of awe and skepticism—his exploits were legendary, but could a lieutenant fresh from a moon lead in the crucible of Dekar-9? Wade met their gazes, his voice firm. “We’ve got intel the RAI doesn’t expect. I’m a follower of the most powerful force in the universe, the Lord Jesus Christ! Follow my lead, and we’ll send those bugs and their AI machines to the scrapheap.” The platoon let out a thunderous, “Hooah!” They were cautious with their trust but resolute to follow his orders.
Jay took 2nd Platoon, Bravo Company, his calm authority a contrast to Wade’s intensity. His Rangers received him much like Wade’s had. New lieutenants were suspect in the Rangers but they were disciplined warriors and knew the price of not obeying leaders with utmost aggression.
Wade felt the weight of leadership settle heavier than ever, each trial—from Carthis 7’s Pit to Eden’s cave—a crucible culminating in Dekar-9. then turned to his platoon, Alex and Briggs at his side. “Rangers,” he said, his voice steady, “we’ve got the RAI’s number. Fight smart, fight together, and we’ll come home. Let’s pray, Lord Jesus, we need your strength and wisdom to crush the evil in front of us. Let our aim be straight and our commitment unwavering. The victory belongs to You. AMEN!” Nods met his words, their trust hard-earned but solid. They were ready—or as ready as they’d ever be.
Boots on the Ground
Dekar-9 loomed below—a lush and beautiful planet, now a scorched, war-torn orb of obsidian peaks, its atmosphere a choking haze of smoke and ash. Hundreds of Thunderhawks pierced the clouds, their hulls glowing from reentry, as Redside’s voice crackled over the comms: “Rangers, Marines, this is it. Crush every bug, dismantle every machine. For the Confederation!”
Wade’s 1st Platoon, Charlie Company, strapped into their drop pods, the Thunderhawk’s bay rattling as it plummeted. He activated the Eden-derived jammer, its pulse scrambling RAI signals, and saw Alex’s squad doing final checks, faces etched with grim focus. Briggs, his broad frame filling the pod, muttered, “Bugs are in for a bad day.” The Drop Master yelled, “30 seconds!” and chaos erupted as the platoon’s pods shot from the Thunderhawk for the “Crazy D” deployment.
They landed in a perfect circle on a small knoll north of the bioengineered Skravaks’ flank—Chimera Husks animated by RAI’s will—swarmed the basalt fields, their insectoid forms scuttling with eerie speed, human-like eyes glinting in chitinous skulls.
Wade’s platoon set a perimeter and immediately opened fire with pulse rifles, grenades, and anti-armor rockets. Their jammers created pockets of disruption in the RAI’s network, causing APCs and drones to stall and veer aimlessly. Pulse fire lanced through the haze, felling dozens of bugs, but the swarm surged—a relentless tide of clicking mandibles and razor-sharp limbs.
“Hold the line!” Wade shouted, his voice piercing the din. He adjusted the formation—Alex’s squad on his left, Briggs’ on his right—their combat-honed instincts seamlessly interlocking their fires. A Skravak lunged, its claws scraping his armor, but Wade’s pistol vaporized its head, his heart pounding yet steady.
The battle was a maelstrom—screams, explosions, the acrid stench of burnt chitin. Wade’s platoon clawed forward, seizing a ridge, but RAI personnel carriers—hulking monstrosities of polished duralloy—loomed ahead, their plasma cannons scorching the earth.
“Alex, flank left!” Wade ordered, his mind racing. “Briggs, suppressive fire!” The Rangers moved as one, their trust in him solidifying with each command, but the Skravaks pressed harder, their numbers swelling. A carrier’s cannon obliterated a nearby Ranger platoon, and Wade’s comm buzzed with frantic reports—ground forces were buckling, the line faltering under the swarm’s weight.
Thunderhawk Down
The ridge shuddered under the Skravak onslaught, Wade’s platoon pinned as RAI personnel carriers advanced, their plasma cannons carving glowing scars across the basalt. The air vibrated with the roar of a Thunderhawk, streaking low from behind the Rangers’ line, its autocannons blazing in a strafing run. Skravak limbs shattered, chitinous bodies bursting under the hail of rounds, and Wade’s platoon roared approval, Alex’s voice rising above the din. “Give ‘em grief, flyboys!” he shouted, as the dropship’s thrusters scorched the earth, banking sharply for another pass.
But the RAI’s response was swift and merciless. A personnel carrier, its duralloy hull glinting malevolently, swiveled its turret, the plasma cannon humming with a deep, ominous pulse. A searing bolt erupted, slicing through the haze and striking the Thunderhawk’s port engine in a blinding explosion. The dropship lurched violently, flames erupting from its flank, duralloy panels shearing away like paper. “Get down!” Alex bellowed, his voice a whipcrack of urgency, diving behind a boulder. Wade dropped, pulling a young Ranger with him, as the platoon flattened against the ridge, the air thick with the screech of tortured metal.
The Thunderhawk, trailing a comet of fire and smoke, skimmed the ground just behind their position, its wounded frame grazing the basalt with a bone-jarring shriek. It cartwheeled skyward, spinning in a chaotic spiral, a blazing meteor against Dekar-9’s ash-choked sky. Wade’s breath caught, his eyes locked on the doomed craft as it arced over the battlefield, slamming into a dense Skravak swarm two hundred meters away. The impact unleashed a colossal fireball, a sunburst of heat and light that incinerated dozens of Chimera Husks, their twisted forms consumed in the inferno. Shrapnel rained, pinging off Wade’s armor, and the shockwave slammed into the ridge, kicking up clouds of ash that stung his eyes.
“Move, Rangers!” Wade shouted, scrambling to his feet, his platoon dazed but alive. Alex hauled a stunned squadmate upright, his face grim as he scanned the burning wreckage. Briggs’ squad resumed fire, their pulses cutting down straggling Skravaks, but the carrier that fired the shot pivoted toward them, its cannon charging with a malevolent glow. The Thunderhawk’s sacrifice had cleared a pocket of the swarm, but the cost was stark—Wade’s mind flashed to the crew, their faces unknown but their courage undeniable. “Regroup on RP Alpha!” he ordered, voice raw, gesturing to a nearby hill top littered with ferrocrete debris.
The platoon retreated under a hail of claws and plasma, dragging wounded comrades. Briggs’ squad laid down suppressive fire, but a Skravak’s limb grazed his shoulder, drawing a grunt of pain. “Keep it together!” Wade yelled, his rifle blazing, felling a lunging Husk. The carrier’s cannon hummed, its next shot imminent, and Wade’s comm crackled with desperate calls from other platoons—Jay’s Bravo Company was holding, but barely. The swarm surged anew, human-insect eyes gleaming with RAI’s malice, and Wade’s jammers flickered, strained by the enemy’s counter-signals. The downed Thunderhawk’s wreckage burned, a pyre illuminating the battlefield, but the RAI’s advance was relentless, threatening to overrun the line.
Wade fired until his rifle’s charge blinked red, he loaded another mag, his platoon pinned in behind boulders and ferrocrete for cover. “Command, we need support!” he barked into his comm, his mind racing—Kristen’s Neurostorm was their last hope, but time was bleeding out. The carrier’s turret locked on, and Wade braced, shouting, “Hold fast!” as the swarm closed, their mandibles snapping inches away. The blast was bone jarring. It was low and took out a dozen Skravak ascending the hill top. Ears ringing, vision blurred, the Rangers gathered their senses and leaned back into the fight.
Mayumi’s voice cut through the chaos, urgent but composed. “Lieutenant Kovacs, Redside’s update: Dominion’s R&D has weaponized the Neurostorm. Nova Eagles are loading bomblets now—ETA ten minutes. Hold on!”
Wade’s pulse spiked, the ground shaking as another carrier advanced, Skravaks flooding the ridge in front of them.
Jay’s Rangers, equipped with Badgers, swept in from the left flank—plasma chainguns blazing, cutting a swath a hundred meters deep in the Skravak advance. Wade’s platoon cheered Bravo Company’s daring charge, but as the smoke cleared, they saw regiment after regiment of bugs advancing behind the momentary gap.
“Fall back to the crater!” he roared, his platoon retreating under a hail of claws and plasma. Alex dragged a wounded Ranger to cover, Briggs’ squad laying down a curtain of fire—but the enemy closed in, their human-insect eyes gleaming with malice.
The situation grew dire, the swarm threatening to overrun them. Wade fired until his rifle’s barrel glowed red, his platoon pinned in the crater, their defense barely holding.
“Where’s that air support?” Briggs growled, a Skravak’s limb grazing his shoulder.
Wade’s mind flashed to Eden’s cave, Kristen’s resolve, Jay’s prayers—failure wasn’t an option. “Command, we need that airstrike now!” Wade yelled into his comms.
His comm crackled—Kristen’s voice, triumphant: “Neurostorm incoming! Hit ’em now!”
A sonic boom split the sky. Marine Nova Eagles screamed overhead, their sleek forms cutting through the haze. Bomblets rained down—each a scaled-up version of Eden’s probe—their pulses detonating in blinding waves.
The Skravak swarm convulsed, thousands collapsing as the tech fried their neural links, their bodies crumpling like ash.
The tide turned.
The Greater Threat Above
Another signal pulse from their jammers, and RAI coordination faltered. The personnel carriers stuttered, their drones drifting aimlessly. Wade’s platoon surged forward. Pulse grenades shredded a carrier’s treads, Rangers scaling its hull. He spotted a pinned-down Marine—his leg trapped under rubble, Skravaks converging. Wade sprinted through the crossfire, rifle blazing, lifted the ferrocrete beam with his engineered hand, and hauled the man to safety. “You’re good, Marine! Get back in the fight!” he shouted, earning a weary smile. Briggs clapped his back, his earlier doubts erased. “LT, you’re alright.”
The ground victory was decisive. RAI’s forces shattered, their carriers reduced to smoking husks.
Cheers rose—but Redside’s voice cut through: “Rangers, Space Forces are getting hammered. Evac to the Dominion—now!”
The triumph dimmed, Dekar-9’s burning fields a stark reminder of the war’s cost. Thunderhawks roared skyward, the planet’s scarred surface fading below.
Wade sat in the troop bay, his armor scorched, his platoon battered—but alive. Alex and Briggs disembarked their squads, respect for Wade now unspoken but absolute. Jay’s platoon exited their Thunderhawk next, his face calm as he murmured Psalm 23, Bravo Company having held a flank against impossible odds.
In the Dominion’s briefing room, the team reunited, the air thick with the weight of Space Forces’ losses. Mayumi, her scanner finally silent, joined them—her analysis of RAI signals already shaping Redside’s next move. Kristen, fresh from the R&D labs, gripped Wade’s hand. Her touch a lifeline. Her father’s fate—Admiral Kitzler, commanding a faltering fleet—etched in her eyes. Redside entered, his expression grimmer than ever. “You’ve given us ground, Rangers,” he said. “But the RAI’s tearing our ships apart. You four—you’re needed topside.” Wade met Kristen’s gaze, fear mirrored with resolve, his own heart echoing hers.
They were his encouragement but Jesus was his anchor. Every crucible had led here—to a war for humanity’s soul. The RAI had misjudged them. But the fight still beckoned. And Wade was ready.
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ToBeLikeJesus 