1 Chapter 1: Resurgence of Hope

Space, an infinite field of almost absolutely nothing, where no matter how smart or careful you are luck is your only protection from its dangers, such as, but not limited to:

Being peppered up nicely by asteroids, fried by gamma rays, raided by pirates and whatever happens when you hit a dimensional rift; on a bad day even all of the above and before breakfast.

In the eve of a sun emerging from the shadow of an Earth-like planet, a small vessel suddenly came to life, first the lights on the bridge, followed by the maze of steel corridors to the hold, where hundred of capsules stood side by side like metal pillars of an ancient temple.

One of the metal capsules with a big "one" painted in bright red light shook and then opened up. A light frosty mist breathed out from the capsule followed a moment after by a naked foot and a yawn.

"Good morning, colonel Ford, hope you slept well." a robotic voice came from seemingly every corner of the room at once. Before the naked man could answer, the voice continued. "Unfortunately the rest of the crewmates have died due to malfunction in the cryosleep capsules."

The single line fully woke up the drowsy man; his blue eyes shot open before relaxing again. "What did I tell you about making jokes in the morning?" he asked while lightly stretching, his muscles cracked the light frost still sticking to them, causing a little snowfall.

"I'm sorry colonel. I thought a little humour would help you wake up. For plan B, I have a cup of coffee brewing in the cafeteria." The voice mechanically answered. It belonged to Amy, the ship's AI.

Finally, the colonel had come out of the capsule, putting on his uniform laying in a box beside the capsule; navy blue pants, white shirt, same navy blue jacket with a golden insignia of a three-headed lion on each shoulder and a variety of medals on the chest.

The man itself wore a tight fit, as the uniform couldn't hide his toned body and statuesque stature. His face had elegant features, framed by long curly dark hair and unkempt beard, the wild look further reinforced by an old scar going from his forehead, passing between the eyes, beside the nose, crossing the lips and ending on his chin.

"Oh and, Amy, wake up the others, will you?" he asked the AI as he walked out of the hold and towards the cafeteria. After a few minutes, he found the room, grabbed his coffee mug with a "best colonel of the universe" sticker on it, and sat down. "Amy, status report," he asked while sipping on the hot coffee with a nutty aftertaste.

"The Revenant has just reached the planet with a slight delay of one-hundred-eighty-nine years. I can't contact the rest of the fleet. The ship condition is optimal, and the crew is waking up right now." Amy reported in her usual neutral tone, a copy of it also appeared on the table surface with a few graphics.

Colonel Ford blinked dumbfounded staring at the report, hoping his ears had failed him for a moment. 'one hundred eighty-nine years? what the *****!' "Amy! wasn't the trip supposed to take only two years?" he questioned in a semi-deranged state.

"Yes, the calculations were made taking our hyperspatial engines in considerations. Unfortunately, a spatial distortion forced us and, possibly the fleet, to get out of hyperspace. After that we had no spare fuel to begin a second jump."

Fear gripped the captain's heart. They were supposed to be an ace under the sleeve for humanity in the war and instead spent two centuries floating around. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner, and what about the fleet?"

"My programming stated that I could only wake the crew in case of a hostile situation, I didn't regard a detour as a hostile situation. As for the fleet, I don't have any guesses; our knowledge of spatial rifts is still in infancy stages. Would you like me to list some possible scenarios?"

Without him even answering a list appeared on the table, it ranged from lost in space, to split in different pieces to some relatively less probable such as: sent to a different dimension or even in a different time.

He stared a little longer at the various possibilities and then took a deep breath. They were still alive, the ship was functioning, and they had reached their target. Hell, maybe humanity had won the war while they were asleep.

He forced himself to be optimistic, around that time, the doors to the cafeteria opened up, and his crew started pouring in. A mix of men and women from twenty-three to forty, all veterans and skilled in their fields orderly appeared one after another.

"Morning Colonel!" as they passed him, they give light salutes and continued to the buffet on the other side of the room. "Oy Amy, give us a window!" one man in an orange jumpsuit shouted at the AI, complying with the request, one of the walls became transparent, and an orange planet with two moons appeared in front of them.

The sun had just started coming out from one side of it, giving it a magical look. They could see oceans and continents without one speck of civilization.

Many stared in amazement at the place that would become their new home. However, the excitement faded fast; first, they were used to seeing planets from space. Second, a complaint from the back stole their attention.

"Miss Amy, I think there is a problem with the calendar, it says we are in the year thirty-four-thirty-seven, but that can't possibly be real, right? We departed thirty-two-thirty-nine. That's two centuries worth of time." The woman that spoke wore a large white coat with azure scrubs under it and a red cross on her chest.

"Doctor Wang, I'm sorry. However, my calculations are correct," replied Amy.

"Ya fucking busted machine, whatcha sayin'! the trip was supposed to be two years, not two fucking hundreds!" roared another man in grey fatigue slamming his hands on the table.

Angry complains exploded around the room; the chaos seemed to be uncontrollable. However, one man managed to stop everyone with one word. "Silence!"

Everyone's focus moved the colonel in his navy blue uniform. Everyone held the colonel with the highest regard, so when he spoke no one dared to talk back. "I just discovered it as well, we are alone, away from home and have no news about the war." he paused to let the information sink.

Then, after a long breath continued. "However, we are soldiers!" he roared the last word. "we are used to unexpected events, hell, that's why we exist! if things always went smoothly, we would all be home right now, sipping tea and complaining about our boring civilian lives."

A light chuckle came from an old soldier wearing a mask of scars; the situation still tense, but slightly better. "Now, we can stay here, crying like a bunch of deflated cocks or we can get down to the planet and fucking continue our mission!" He finished his little speech getting up and staring at his people one by one in the eyes.

"You heard the colonel! Marines gear up we go in first and fast." the same man full of scars got up and led a regiment of men out of the room.

"But Sarge! what about breakfast?" one of his men complained, a young man barely above the enlistment age.

The Sarge looked at him and spat on the ground before roaring insults like a machine gun. "Private Kandinsky! Try to open your goddam mouth once again without permission, and I'll personally put my whole arm up your arse and use you like a puppet!" then turned his head towards the rest of the platoon. "Next who fucking speak bullshit will eat breakfast straight out of the toilet bowl!"

The men stopped talking and followed their Seargent with grim faces. The exchange further lightened the mood in the room. Colonel Ford watched the remaining people and gave orders to each of them. "Captain Toshita!" he called, immediately a woman in her thirties wearing green fatigue shot up from her seat.

"Yes, Colonel?" she asked with a salute.

"Take your team of engineers and check the ship for any irregularities."

"Yessiryes!" she waved to the other green-clothed engineers in the room that followed after while chewing on bread.

"Lieutenant Samson!" he called next. A barely twenty man with a prideful expression in his blue eyes and orange jumpsuit stood attention.

"Yes, Colonel?" he responded unfazed by the older man's authority.

Ford ignored the slightly impudent pilot, as the war raged harder command had to cut on disciplining the men in favour of pumping fresh cannon meat faster, and amongst many lt.Samson appeared to be a prodigy which made his pride even stronger.

"I want your squad of pilots to do a sky recon of the L-zone and aid the marines landing party."

Lt Samson snorted and whistled for his subordinates to follow him out, and oddly enough none appeared older than 25. Pilots were best suited when young because of their enhanced reflexes and had one of the highest lethality rates.

Col Ford kept barking out orders to the various officials until the room emptied and he remained alone massaging his temples and thinking of the next move.

He took out of his uniform an old looking picture, a woman and two little girls smiled in front of a lake for the photographer, whenever he needed strength he would take this picture out and promise his family he would win the war for them and then come home.

However, all it did this time was forcing out the tears he had been holding back. He put the picture back and after a good punch to the table, got up.

"two hundred years is nothing. I'm sure they are all fine, daddy will be home soon." However, not even himself believed that. Amy observed in silence the colonel, giving him some space.

-------------------------------------

Ten fighter jets came out from the belly of the ship and entered the planet atmosphere doing a high altitude survey of the surface.

The orange clouds split as the supersonic jets passed through like a hot knife through butter. The L-zone stood at the feet of a mountain surrounded by orange forests on all sides. A lake a few clicks away attracted their attention, they could see ancient machinery discarded by the side to rust in pace.

"Col, there is or at least used to be human activity on the planet, we spotted various discarded machines by the lake."

From a chair on the flight deck, Ford could see what they saw through a hologram in the middle of the room. "Keep your eyes to the ground; we are sending down the marines right now."

The troop's transports looked like fat birds with helixes in the middle of their wings and various jet boosters displaced around for easying manoeuvres.

Inside the soldiers were nervously checking their weapons, all except the Sarge, he was comfortably napping fastened to his seat. Years of long firefights had taught him to use every safe moment to rest in lieu of possible prolonged future face-offs.

Suddenly the wall in front of him exploded, his eyes shut open and with trained movements unfasted the belt and took the jetpack below his seat, he barked an order to the other marines "GET YOUR PACK AND GET OUT!"

The next second he had already jumped out from the hole in the wall followed by two other veterans, as the third one peeked out of the smouldering window a ray of light flashed and the transport exploded completely.

Burning soldiers fell through the sky, their screams covered by the burning gasoline stuck to their bodies. The Sarge cursed under his breath and activated his backpack, slowing down his fall. He immediately looked for a safe spot and headed towards an abandoned skyscraper to his left.

Nonetheless, whoever shot down his transport hadn't given up on them, more light flashes and plasma bolts headed towards the cornered marines, one plasma bolt hit the woman right behind the Sarge.

As her jetpack hummed dangerously, she cursed one last time before it exploded throwing her against the intersection between two floors and smashing her like chewing gum.

Sarge and the man behind him ignored her and headed towards a window on the 65th floor, as they couldn't slow down due to enemy fire, they shot forward while shooting at the windows to reduce their resistance and, the moment before contact, turned their feet towards the building assuming the position of a nail.

Feet first they crashed inside the office building amongst a shower of glass shards plasma bullets. They rolled on the floor and came to a painful stop against the walls opposite to the window.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Joked the other man patting off the dangerous glass shards off of him.

"Ah shut up Ferdinando, you are a natural bad luck charm, how come every time I take you along they always shoot at us?" replied the Sarge while peeking out of the door, 'nothing but box offices.'

"Aww, don't be like that, bet you would feel lonely without me watching your ass." the man jested taking off his helmet, blonde hair fell like a lion's mane, a caucasian face peeked out from the hair looking around and smelling the air, "besides, even I could complain, other dad's take their children to fish at the lake, you took me to a battlefield, what would mom say if she was alive to see us."

"She would say to put your helmet back, they saw get in here, we have a few seconds before a welcome party comes here," grumbled Sarge, in his heart, he complained that it wasn't him that convinced that idiot son of his to enlist and that taking him around was the only way he had to watch over him.

"aye-aye, sir." He quit his joking and readied himself for the next fight.

As they were about to exit the room, a sound like chopsticks tapping on wood came from above Ferdinando, Sarge felt a bad omen and leapt towards his son. "DOWN!"

That's when the Sarge woke up in the transport, a display above the cockpit displayed "ETA: 2 minutes.", under someone had scratched "thank you for flying with us."

Sarge rubbed his eyes shooing away the remnants of bad memories and checked the people around him. The squad under his direct order counted 25 men, of which 20 were recruits and five veterans that followed him around for a few trips.

Micheal, the meek tech expert, sported a cowlicked blonde hair that made him look like a wet chick. Next to him, Alexa, the demolition expert, she was a first-class beauty and a first-class psycho, nicknamed Pandora. Hitting on her without success came his second in command and ex infiltration specialist Vladimir, a natural in close combat with no talent in swaying the opposite sex. Ignoring the others and sitting by her lonesome self the sniper Geralt, he was the oldest at 67 with elegant white hair and body still in his prime, genetic therapy did wonders to him.

Last Silvana, a petite woman in her twenties, the doctor of the unit, as good with a scalpel as she was with a gun; during the trips on the transport she checked on the troops calming their nerves with idle chit chat. According to gossip, she had a secret relationship with Alexa.

As Sarge gazed on his team, his eyes fell to the empty seat beside him, which made his son Ferdinando appear again in his mind. However, the small reverie disappeared as the transport hit the ground.

"Everyone out, secure a perimeter!"