Front Runner

2356 AD

Aboard Invictus

The sirens wailed through the ship, their shrill cries reverberating through the walls of Invictus as Rosco, Inez, and Amadeus stood frozen in the observation deck, the weight of the emergency ping sinking in. Rosco’s eyes flicked toward the massive windows overlooking the stars, he could now see a legion of small vessels clinging to the exterior of Invictus like parasites. Dark and predatory, they were latched directly against the ship's hull, their purpose unmistakable.

“They’re breaching.” Inez muttered, her voice tight.

Amadeus stepped closer to the window, his face pale. “They’re already inside... boarding parties.”

The faint sound of weapons fire echoed from somewhere below them, sharp bursts that cut through the distant drone of alarms. Then came the screams—high-pitched and panicked—rising like a wave from the lower decks. The chaos below was quickly spreading.

“We can’t stay out here.” Amadeus said, his voice urgent, his usual nonchalance gone. “If we try to make it back to our quarters, we’ll get caught.”

Inez shook her head, her expression grim. “Even if we wanted to fight, what are we supposed to do? There are no weapons on Invictus. We’ll be slaughtered.”

Rosco’s mind raced, trying to find a solution, something that made sense in the madness. But as the screams grew louder, closer, the options seemed to dwindle.

“We need to barricade the entrance.” Rosco said, his tone decisive. "Keep anyone from getting in. At least we can hold this position.”

Amadeus nodded quickly. “Yeah. We can’t just leave the deck like this.”

There were others scattered throughout the observation deck, dozens of passengers and crew who had been enjoying the view when the alert came through. Most of them were huddled together in shock, whispering in panicked confusion, unsure of what to do. If the boarding parties reached this area, it would be a massacre.

Without wasting any more time, the three of them sprang into action, grabbing whatever they could find—couches, potted plants, benches—and dragging them toward the entrance. One by one, others started to help, the realization dawning that this might be their only chance of survival. Together, they began to build a makeshift barricade.

As Rosco shoved a large planter against the door, he heard a frantic voice shouting from the hallway outside. He turned just in time to see Roland McAdams sprinting toward the entrance, his face pale, eyes wide with desperation.

“Wait! Wait, please!” Roland’s voice cracked as he reached the door, pounding on it as the barricade grew higher. “Let me in! They’ll kill me out here!”

Amadeus, his face dark with resentment, glanced at Rosco. “What makes you think we’d help you now?”

Roland’s chest heaved, his breath ragged. “Please... I’ve got nowhere else to go! I was wrong, okay? I was wrong. Just... let me through. Don’t leave me out here.”

The moment stretched, the tension between them thick as Rosco hesitated. Memories of their earlier confrontation replayed in his mind—his own guilt about standing by, watching things spiral. He clenched his jaw and without a word, began pulling aside part of the barricade, enough to let Roland squeeze through.

Roland collapsed onto the deck, gasping, his face slick with sweat. “Thank you... I mean it. Thank you.”

Rosco didn’t respond. They didn’t have time for thanks. He motioned to Amadeus and Inez, and together, they resumed building the barricade higher.

Just as they were finishing, a sharp ping hit their Links simultaneously. The red alert had changed. Rosco’s vision blurred for a second before the message fully formed in his mind—a live transmission from the bridge. But it wasn’t the admiral. The man on the screen was a stranger.

His face was twisted with a cold determination, his eyes burning with zealotry. Behind him, Rosco could see the bridge crew, including the admiral, all bound and held at weapon point.

“To the crew of Invictus,” the man began, his voice steady and terrifyingly calm. “We are Vanguard. We represent and fight for the interests of the true Union. I am Illian Ode, representing our group today.”

Vanguard was an extremist, fundamentalist group within the Union of Inner Planets which believed that the Union had the only true right to govern the solar system. To them, the Greater Jovian Alliance was a false government, a coup that went too far. Their goal was to bring all celestial bodies in the solar system under the control of the Union. Before Europa, there were hundreds of terrorist attacks perpetrated by Vanguard across the Jovian system—government facilities, hospitals, even schools found themselves as targets. However, for the last twenty years they had been unable to reach the Jovians directly due to transit sanctions. They instead spent these years lashing out violently against those who they viewed as sympathetic towards the Jovian Alliance.

“We have taken control of this vessel.” Illian continued. “The Front Runner Initiative is treasonous, a betrayal to the Union and everything it stands for. It was built on appeasement, on sucking up to the Jovians.”

Rosco exchanged a tense look with Inez, his heart thudding in his chest.

Illian continued. “Your admiral and his bridge crew are now our prisoners. This ship won’t be leaving the solar system. Instead, we’re going to use it to make sure the Jovians pay for what they’ve done.”

Rosco’s blood ran cold as Illian’s words sank in.

“The Front Runner ships are the only vessels to be granted a one-time pass through Jovian space,” the man said, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “We will use that opportunity to strike at the heart of their empire. The High Council chamber on Ganymede. We will ram this ship directly into it. With the power of our relativistic engines, we will destroy them utterly.”

A murmur of horror spread through the observation deck, panic rising like a tide.

“You have all been granted a simple instruction.” Illian continued. “Stay where you are. Do not interfere. Any attempt to resist will be met with immediate execution. Anyone who makes a move will be shot on the spot. We are in control now. Comply, and you might live long enough to witness the vengeance we will bring upon the Jovians.”

The transmission ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving nothing but silence and the pounding of Rosco’s pulse in his ears.

“We’re screwed.” Amadeus muttered, his voice barely audible. “They’re gonna ram us into Ganymede, and we’re all gonna die.”

Inez cursed under her breath. “We can’t just sit here. Even if we do nothing, we’re dead anyway. We have to figure something out.”

Rosco’s mind raced, the weight of the situation bearing down on him. Compliance meant death. Fighting back meant almost certain death. But sitting here—waiting for the inevitable destruction of the ship—was not an option.

"We need a plan," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "We need to find a way to stop them... before it’s too late."

Amadeus broke the silence that followed Rosco’s words first, his voice shaky. “So… what do we do? Not really much we can do, is there?”

“Maybe we could ping the Union fleet.” Inez suggested, though her tone was uncertain. “They’ve got to have some kind of emergency protocol for this. Maybe they can override the ship remotely.”

“They wouldn’t be able to get here in time.” Rosco’s voice was flat, as if he’d already accepted the hopelessness of that option. “Even if they launched a rescue mission right now, by the time they reach us… it would be too late.”

“And even if they could override the ship remotely,” Roland cut in, his face pale, “those guys would kill us before that even happened. They made it clear. They’re willing to die for this.”

They all fell silent again, each idea crashing against the same immovable wall. Time was running out, and with every second that passed, the weight of their inaction bore down on them harder.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, Rosco straightened up, an idea beginning to take shape in his mind. His pulse quickened as he ran through the logistics, the possibilities, the risks.

“Wait,” he murmured. “We don’t have to sit here.”

Inez glanced over at him, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Rosco looked between them, his eyes focused now, a hint of something sharp behind them. “We’re Calculations officers. We have access to the Non-Independent Intelligence Protocols. We can reprogram them. We could make them activate the ship’s engines, force a burn at a high enough g-force that it’ll knock everyone out.”

Roland, who had been crouching against the barricade, looked at Rosco in disbelief. “You want to knock everyone out?”

Rosco nodded, his voice gathering strength as the plan started to solidify. “Yes. The engines can generate g-forces strong enough to incapacitate everyone on board. The crew, Vanguard’s men—everyone. If we can get to Calculations and reprogram the Protocols, they can take over while we’re all unconscious.”

Amadeus squinted at him, not fully grasping the idea. “But… we’ll be knocked out too. Then what?”

“That’s where cryosleep comes in.” Rosco turned to Amadeus, his voice steady. “You and I will get to the cryochambers, enter our pods, and program them to wake us up right after the high-g burn. We’ll be the only ones conscious while everyone else is out cold. That gives us a window to reach the bridge and take it back.”

Inez crossed her arms, the gears turning in her mind. “The Intelligence Protocols would stay online through the burn. They could keep the ship stable while everyone’s out.”

“And more importantly,” Rosco added, “they could act independently. It would count as an emergency situation, and Protocols are designed to function without human input when the crew is incapacitated. They could stop the ship before we hit Ganymede.”

Roland let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s… insane. There are hundreds of people on this ship, including the crew, not to mention ourselves. If we’re wrong about the calculations, we could kill everyone.”

“We won’t be wrong.” Inez said, though the confidence in her voice didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s not about the math.” Roland’s hands balled into fists. “It’s about the risk. This whole plan hinges on every single part of it working perfectly. One mistake and we’ll end up killing the very people we’re trying to save.”

Amadeus cut in, looking more animated now. “Come on, man. It’s not like we have a lot of choices here. Either we take this shot, or we wait around for these maniacs to turn the ship into a weapon of mass destruction. Which sounds better to you?”

Roland shook his head, frustration bleeding into fear. “There’s got to be another way.”

Rosco stepped forward, his tone quieter now but no less firm. “Roland, I get it. But we don’t have time to debate this. They said they’re going to use the ship as a battering ram. If we don’t do something now, we’re dead.”

Roland clenched his jaw, still not fully convinced. His voice came out barely above a whisper. “And what happens when you reach the bridge? You’re going to go in there and what… take away their weapons? You ready to kill if it comes to that?”

Rosco’s stomach twisted at the thought. “We can cross that bridge when we get there…”

There was a long pause, the weight of the decision settling over all of them. Inez was the first to break the silence. “We don’t have time to argue. We either do this now, or we die waiting.”

Amadeus nodded, though there was tension behind his usual easy going demeanor. “Rosco and I will go to the cryochambers. You and Roland head to Calculations and set up the changes to the Protocols.”

Roland still looked hesitant, but when he glanced at Rosco, something in his face shifted—an unspoken understanding. They were already in too deep to back down.

“Fine.” Roland muttered, his voice resigned. “But if this blows up in our faces…”

“It won’t.” Inez cut him off, her voice firm. “We’ll make it work.”

Rosco took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the plan settle into place. “Okay. Let’s move.”

They quickly made a small opening in the barricade that they had previously built, slipped through it, and then proceeded to split up without further words, Inez and Roland heading off down one corridor while Rosco and Amadeus made their way toward their quarters. Each step they took felt heavier, the sound of distant weapon fire a constant reminder of how little time they had. Every corner they turned, they moved slowly, carefully, ducking behind walls and keeping their voices low.

Amadeus shot Rosco a nervous glance as they neared their destination. “You think Roland’s gonna be able to pull it off?”

Rosco’s face remained stoic. “Don’t know…He wouldn’t have been my first choice but he’s all we’ve got right now.”

The passageways felt too open, too vulnerable. Rosco’s nerves prickled with every step, as if an unseen enemy was waiting just beyond the next corner. However, after what felt to be an eternity they were able to reach their quarters, the door slid open with a faint hiss, and they quickly ducked inside.

Rosco approached the cryopods, his mind racing. The hum of the machinery felt strangely comforting in the midst of everything. If the plan worked, they would wake up while everyone else was knocked out. If it didn’t…

No. He couldn’t think about that now.

Amadeus moved to a second pod, his hands trembling slightly as he keyed in the instructions. “You think we’ll make it to the bridge?”

“We should have 3-5 minutes if this works, that should be enough time to get there.” Rosco replied, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. He glanced at the control panel, ensuring everything was set.

Amadeus gave a weak chuckle. “This would be a hell of a way to die, wouldn’t it?”

“We can’t die yet.” Rosco said firmly, more to himself than to Amadeus.

They sealed the pods, lying down and waiting for the cold embrace of cryosleep to take hold. As Rosco closed his eyes, his thoughts flashed briefly to Inez and Roland, wondering if they had made it to Calculations. If the Protocols would work. If they would wake up in time to stop Vanguard.

There was no more time for doubt.

Rosco listened nervously as the hum of the cryopods grew louder, and then, silence.

Meanwhile, Inez and Roland continued towards Calculations. The corridors seemed endless, winding and stretching in ways that only deepened the tension between them. They moved quietly, darting behind every corner, their breath shallow and hearts racing.

Roland still hadn’t let go of his apprehension. “Let the record show that I still think this is a mistake.” He muttered, shaking his head. “We’re risking everyone’s lives.”

Inez shot him a look, her patience running thin. “You can stop reminding me every five minutes.”

They approached the final turn leading to Calculations. A few armed intruders were patrolling the lower levels of the ship, but so far, they had avoided detection. Inez signaled for Roland to stop, listening for any signs of danger.

After a tense moment, she nodded. “Clear. Let’s move.”

They slipped through the door into Calculations, the familiar hum of machinery greeting them like a strange comfort. The room was cramped, filled with consoles and screens, and as they approached their stations, Roland’s nerves seemed to hit a breaking point.

“Sorry, I have to say it. This is insane.” He whispered harshly. “We’re just going to knock out the whole crew?”

Inez gave him a sharp look. “Yes, Roland. It’s this, or we let the ship crash into Ganymede. You do the math.”

Roland hesitated for a moment longer, his hand hovering over the console. Then, with a deep breath, he keyed in the commands. He instructed the Protocols to initiate the new program in three minutes.

Everything was in place. All they had to do now was wait.

The two sat with their backs against the wall, putting their bodies in positions that would be safe when the burn began.

Roland continued to breathe heavily, his anxiety mounting. His once pristinely maintained uniform was now wrinkled and drenched in sweat.

Inez looked straight forward, her mind racing with thoughts of what would happen when the burn began.

“You probably think I’m an asshole, right?” Roland unexpectedly broke the tense silence.

“What?” Inez replied, confused by Roland’s timing.

“All that stuff about your accent and everything I said before…”

“To be honest, yes. I think you were out of line.” Inez replied curtly.

Roland began to blink his eyes quickly, seeming to be fighting off a wave of emotion. “I’ve never been good with making friends…I’ve just never known what to say to people—never known how to joke around without people taking it the wrong way. I know it might be too little too late, but I’m sorry.”

Inez turned her head towards Roland, now understanding that he was attempting to show an uncharacteristic vulnerability, “Thanks, but you can make it up to me if and when we get out of this. Only one more minute to go.”

“Just thought I’d tell you now—you know—-just in case things don’t go well.” The corner of Roland’s eye twitched slightly as he responded in a somber tone.

Inez didn’t respond, knowing that there was no quelling Roland’s pessimism. Rather, she turned her head straight once again and waited for the burn to begin.

Then it finally started.

“ENGINE BURN INITIATED.”

The Intelligence Protocols pinged.

The moment the burn initiated, the ship groaned under the strain of the sudden acceleration. Roland and Inez were pressed violently against the wall, their bodies crushed by the force as the engines roared to life. The power of the g-force was beyond anything they had prepared for, far worse than training simulations. Roland gasped, his chest heaving as the air was forced from his lungs, his consciousness teetering on the edge.

On the lower decks, chaos erupted. Crew members and the intruders alike were flung violently across the ship, tumbling through the narrow corridors like ragdolls until their bodies slammed into the walls. The screams that had filled the ship were silenced in an instant, replaced by the deep, mechanical hum of the engines pushing Invictus to its limits.

Roland could feel the edges of his vision darkening, the weight of the acceleration forcing his eyes shut. He thought briefly of the apology he’d made to Inez—whether she’d take it seriously or just dismiss it once this was all over—if they even survived.

But then, consciousness slipped away.

On the bridge, the scene was no less chaotic. Both Vanguard’s men and bridge crew were thrown from their positions, bodies careening across the room and slamming into the far wall. Their leader, Illian, a burly man with a wild look in his eyes, managed to grab hold of a console for a brief moment before losing his grip. “What the hell is happening?” he shouted, his voice panicked. “Who the fuck did this?!”

He was flung backward, his body crashing into the pile of unconscious bodies forming along the rear bulkhead. In the confusion, Admiral Jin Wang’s restraints were torn loose as he was thrown across the bridge. Though pinned against the wall like the others, his hands were now free.

The Admiral acted on instinct. His eyes flicked to a plasma weapon lying on the floor next to one of the intruders, knocked unconscious by the burn. His hand shot out, fingers closing around the grip as he yanked the weapon free. Without hesitation, he began firing.

The first shots echoed across the bridge, catching the remaining conscious men off guard. They scrambled to return fire, but the brutal g-forces made even raising a weapon an agonizing task. The Admiral’s aim was steady, each shot precise as he took out the nearest Vanguard men, one by one. Two of them fell instantly, crumpling to the floor as torrid plasma projectiles tore through them.

But before he could fire another round, the world went dark. The g-forces overtook him, and he, too, lost consciousness, the weapon slipping from his grasp.

As planned, Rosco and Amadeus awoke just moments later, their cryopods releasing them from the numbing cold of cryosleep. Groggy but aware, Rosco blinked rapidly, trying to shake the disorientation. His body felt sluggish, but adrenaline was already flooding his system as he remembered why they had woken up early.

“We’ve got to move.” he muttered, more to himself than Amadeus.

Amadeus was already on his feet, his expression tense but focused. “Let’s get this done.”

They rushed out of their quarters, the corridors eerily silent except for the occasional groan of the ship’s structure. Unconscious bodies lay strewn across the floor, some piled up against walls where the gravitational forces had pushed them. It was a surreal sight—dozens of crew members and the intruders alike, crumpled and motionless, as if the entire ship had been frozen in time.

Rosco’s heart pounded in his chest as they made their way toward the bridge. Every step felt heavier than the last, the reality of what they were about to face sinking in. He had never fired a weapon, never killed anyone. And yet here they were, about to take on armed men in the heart of the ship.

When they reached the bridge, the door was blocked—piled high with bodies stacked against it from the burn. Rosco and Amadeus struggled to push through, heaving the limp bodies aside as they forced the door open.

Inside, the scene was even worse. Bodies were piled up against the far wall, some slumped over consoles, others lying in grotesque heaps. The stench of blood and sweat was thick in the air. Rosco’s stomach churned as he stepped inside.

They moved quickly, pulling the weapons away from the unconscious men, tossing them aside where they couldn’t be reached. Rosco glanced around and was shocked to see several of the men already dead—killed by the discharge of plasma weapons before they could pass out.

Then, amid the carnage, they found Admiral Wang. He was alive but bleeding from a plasma wound to his side, his face pale and strained.

“Admiral!” Amadeus rushed to his side, helping move him to a safer corner of the bridge. “Hang in there. We’ve got you.”

The Admiral gritted his teeth, nodding weakly as Amadeus applied pressure to the wound.

But there was no time to waste. As Rosco and Amadeus were still collecting weapons, the intruders began to stir. Their groggy movements sent a wave of tension across the room. One by one, they started waking up, their eyes filled with confusion and anger as they realized what had happened.

“Hands up!” Amadeus shouted, his voice steady as he aimed a weapon at them. “Don’t try anything!”

Illian, his face twisted with fury, spat blood from his mouth and cursed. “You think this is over? You think you can stop us? We’re going to fucking kill you!”

Without warning, he sent a ping to the remaining Vanguard men on board, a quick, sharp message ordering them to storm the bridge.

One of the Vanguard men, still dazed but desperate, took advantage of the chaos. He lunged at Rosco, his hands reaching for the discarded weapons. Rosco barely had time to react, his body frozen in shock as the man closed in.

But then a shot rang out.

Amadeus fired.

The young man crumpled to the floor, the projectile lodged in his forehead, blood spilling out across the cold metal surface of the bridge. The sight of it sent a jolt of horror through Rosco’s body. He stood there, stunned, staring at the lifeless body in front of him.

Amadeus’ face was pale, his hands trembling slightly as he lowered the weapon. “Shit…”

The other men, seeing what had just happened, froze in place, their hands slowly rising in surrender. They were still disoriented, too weak to fight back without their weapons. But the danger wasn’t over yet.

“We’ve got incoming.” Rosco said, his voice low. “The others are on their way.”

Amadeus nodded, trying to shake the shock from his system. “We’ve got to hold them off.”

Rosco glanced down at the body on the floor, his mind reeling from what had just happened. He had never imagined this—never thought he’d be in a situation where life and death decisions would fall on him. But now, there was no time to second-guess.

He and Amadeus exchanged a glance, both of them trying to mask the fear in their eyes. They had made it this far, but the real fight was just beginning.

With the Vanguard men closing in and no clear way out, they had to think fast. It was do or die.

※※※