Space Age: Echoes of Eternity

The thick hull of the combat vessel shuddered as it disengaged from the massive command ship, its engines roaring to life with a deep, resonant hum. The vessel itself was a beast—heavily armored, built for frontline assaults, and designed to withstand the rigors of combat in some of the most hostile environments known to the Federation. As it drifted away from the command ship, the crew inside settled into the rhythm of waiting, the long hours between deployment and action stretching before them.

Sahaad sat in the ship's briefing room with the rest of the squad, the dim lights casting shadows across the metallic walls. The air was thick with the scent of metal, oil, and recycled air—a familiar environment they had grown accustomed to over the years. Each of them was in full combat gear, helmets resting on their laps as they waited for the jump into hyperspace that would take them to the jungle planet.

Zara sat across from him, fiddling absentmindedly with a small necklace that hung around her neck, the same one Sahaad had noticed all those years ago when they were still kids. It was a simple piece—a small silver pendant, maybe a family heirloom or something she'd picked up along the way. Sahaad couldn't help but be surprised that she still had it after everything they'd been through.

"You still got that thing?" he asked, breaking the silence, his voice laced with curiosity.

Zara glanced up at him, her usually stern expression softening for just a moment. "Yeah," she said, her voice low. "Been with me since the beginning. Figured it's a good luck charm now. Haven't died yet, right?"

Sahaad chuckled, though the sound was brief, almost lost in the hum of the ship's engines. "I guess we'll take any luck we can get these days."

"Luck," Nate chimed in from the far corner, where he was lazily checking his plasma cannon. "That's what you're banking on? How about a plasma cannon to the face, huh? That's more my style."

Kato, sitting beside Nate, grinned as he adjusted his rifle. "You're just upset because last time your cannon jammed and Zara had to save your ass."

Nate scoffed, but there was no real heat in it. "That was one time. One time! And let's not act like Zara didn't love swinging her fancy blade around like some kind of medieval knight."

Zara rolled her eyes but smirked, still toying with her necklace. "Just doing my job, Nate. You should try it sometime."

The banter continued, light and easy, the way it always did before a mission. It was their way of handling the tension that came with knowing they were about to be thrust into combat again, facing an enemy that wanted nothing more than to see them dead. For most of them, it had become second nature—this dance of lighthearted jokes to keep the darker thoughts at bay.

Ji, seated near the back of the room, was quietly listening to music on his datapad, the faint beats audible through his earpiece. He rarely joined in on the banter, preferring to keep to himself until it was time for action. But even he looked more relaxed than usual, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the table.

Sahaad leaned back in his chair, resting his helmet on his knee as he glanced around the room. It was moments like these—before the storm, before the chaos of battle—that he found himself reflecting on how much had changed. Over a century of training, missions, and trials, and here they were—still together, still fighting. But things were different now. They were stronger, tougher, and more lethal. And they had learned to lean on each other, even if they didn't always say it outright.

"Hey," Kato said suddenly, his grin widening as he turned to Sahaad. "You think this jungle's gonna be like that frozen hellscape we trained on a few decades ago? What was it called again? Teralis-7?"

Sahaad groaned. "Please, don't remind me. My fingers almost froze off in that place."

Zara snorted. "That was your fault for dropping your rifle into a snowdrift."

"Yeah, well, it worked out in the end, didn't it? I'm still here." Sahaad smiled, shaking his head.

The ship's intercom crackled to life, interrupting the conversation. "All personnel prepare for a warpspace jump in three minutes. I repeat, three minutes."

Sahaad felt a shift in the atmosphere as the announcement cut through the room. The lighthearted conversation fell into silence as the reality of their mission set in. They'd laugh, joke, and talk to pass the time, but when it was go time, they knew how to flip the switch. The lightheartedness faded, replaced by a quiet focus.

Zara let her necklace fall against her chest and tightened her grip on her helmet. Ji turned off his music and set his datapad aside. Nate hefted his plasma cannon onto his shoulder, and Kato double-checked the energy levels on his rifle.

Sahaad slid his helmet back over his head, the familiar HUD lighting up before his eyes. He felt the weight of the rifle on his back, the comfortable grip of his sidearm at his hip. This was where he felt most alive—in the moments before deployment, the anticipation of battle thrumming through his veins.

The countdown to warpspace began, the ship's systems humming with energy as it prepared for the jump. Sahaad leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes for a brief moment, focusing his mind. Soon, they would be in the thick of it—on the ground, hunting down the rebel forces in the dense jungle of the Vraxos system. They'd fought humans before, but this time it felt different. The Federation wouldn't send them in unless the rebellion was a serious threat.

"Alright, team," Sahaad said, his voice coming through the comms. "Let's do this."

The ship shuddered as it jumped into hyperspace, the stars outside the viewport stretching into long lines of light. Within moments, the vessel hurtled through the infinite, the crew and soldiers aboard bracing themselves for what lay ahead.

For the next few hours, they would travel in the void between worlds, their destination a hostile planet on the edge of the Federation's territory.

The combat vessel burst out of warpspace with a lurch, and the viewport filled with the sight of a gas giant looming in the distance, its swirling bands of clouds painting a canvas of crimson and gold. In the far reaches of space, a massive Dyson sphere glimmered around the dim, red star, its impossibly large structure harnessing the energy of the dying sun. But the moon below was the true sight to behold.

Sahaad stood at the viewport, staring down at the jungle-covered world that spread out before him. The moon, with its thick, verdant canopy and massive trees that towered into the sky, felt otherworldly. Giant, alien creatures soared through the air on leathery wings, casting long shadows over the emerald sea of treetops. The moon's surface was bathed in a soft red light from the star, giving everything a faint, eerie glow.

The scene stirred a memory in Sahaad's mind, one from a life that felt a lifetime away. One about a distant jungle planet as well and the native aliens that called it their home.

"Reminds me of something," he muttered under his breath, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Zara, standing nearby and adjusting the blade strapped to her back, glanced over at him. "What was that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sahaad shook his head, realizing that explaining films from his own life would probably be pointless. "Nothing," he replied, "just a place I used to know."

The descent to the moon's surface was smooth but tense. The crew had been on edge since they left the command ship, but now, as they approached the dense, untamed wilderness below, that tension turned to quiet anticipation. Each of them ran through their weapons' systems, checking energy levels, making sure everything was in order. They all knew what was waiting for them down there—rebels who had the advantage of terrain and home-field knowledge. This was going to be a brutal fight.

The vessel shook slightly as it broke through the atmosphere, the jungles growing larger and more vivid as they descended. Sahaad's HUD flashed data across his vision, giving readings on the atmospheric conditions, the local flora, and the expected resistance. Everything pointed to this being a mission that required precision and ruthlessness.

The landing dock was located on the edge of a sprawling jungle basin, carved out of the thick canopy by Federation forces. As the combat vessel touched down, its landing gear sinking into the soft earth, Sahaad and the others could see the base already established on the ground below. Federation tents and armored vehicles dotted the clearing, but the place still had an untamed feeling, with the jungle creeping at the edges, as if ready to reclaim the land at any moment.

As the hatch hissed open, the humid, dense air of the moon filled the interior of the ship, carrying with it the smell of vegetation and earth. Sahaad could hear the distant screeches of the alien creatures soaring through the sky, their silhouettes barely visible through the thick jungle canopy.

"Alright," Sahaad said, securing his rifle across his back. "Let's move out."

The squad descended the ramp, their heavy boots sinking slightly into the damp soil. As they stepped onto the moon's surface, Sahaad's senses were overwhelmed by the sheer life around them. The jungle was alive with sound—chirping, growling, and the constant rustle of leaves as creatures moved unseen through the thick underbrush.

"It's beautiful," Zara muttered, her eyes scanning the treetops, where vibrant-colored birds or something like them flitted between the branches. She gripped her blade tighter, knowing that beauty here didn't mean safety.

"Looks like a vacation spot," Sia joked, adjusting the scope on her gun. "Except for the part where everyone's trying to kill us.". Kato chuckled through his helmet at the joke.

Ji, who had been silent most of the time, finally spoke, his voice calm as he surveyed the area. "The rebels know this place better than we do. We should expect traps. Ambushes."

"Good," Sahaad said, rolling his shoulders and loosening up. "That'll make it more interesting."

The team was soon met by a group of Red Tail Praetorians, their gleaming red armor- with the emblem of an eagle burned to their chestplate- standing out in the sea of green. They saluted the Imperator squad, deferring to their authority as instructed. Despite their elite status, the Red Tails knew the pecking order. And while the Imperators weren't yet officially promoted, they commanded respect.

One of the Red Tails, a grizzled veteran with a cybernetic leg, stepped forward. "Welcome to the jungle," he said in a gravelly voice. "I am Lieutenant Halquin of the Red Tails. We've been engaged with the rebels for weeks now. They're dug in deep. Guerilla warfare at its finest."

Sahaad nodded. "What's the situation?"

"They've got camps hidden throughout the jungle, probably some underground as well. We've hit a few, but they move fast. Hard to pin down." The Praetorian gestured to the map displayed on his wrist. "We've got intel on where the larger groups are stationed. That's where we'll hit them first."

Sahaad studied the map. The rebels had spread out across the jungle, using the terrain to their advantage. It was going to be a slow, methodical process to root them out—but that's what they were trained for.

"We'll upload the map to your HUDs, make it easier to navigate", explained Halquin

"Alright," Sahaad said, turning to his squad. "You heard the man. Gear up, we're heading out."

As the team prepared for the mission, Sahaad couldn't help but take one last look at the jungle stretching out before them.

The squad moved with purpose as they donned the camouflage gear provided by the Red Tails. The material clung to their bodies, shifting in hue to match the dense foliage and shadows of the jungle. It wasn't just any standard military issue—this was advanced chameleon tech, mimicking the environment with nearly perfect accuracy. For a world like this, where every tree and leaf could be an enemy's hiding spot, it was essential.

"Not bad," Zara muttered, examining her arm as it almost disappeared into the background of trees and vines.

"Everyone got their inhibitors in?" Sahaad asked, securing his rifle on his back and pulling out his combat knife, its edge gleaming even in the muted light.

Zara nodded, followed by the rest of the team. The tiny injectors implanted near the base of their skulls would manage their enhanced senses, filtering out the overwhelming flood of stimuli the jungle would throw at them. Too much information too quickly could cause sensory overload, something even the Imperators weren't immune to.

The Red Tail Praetorians, standing at attention nearby, exchanged glances as the Imperators prepped. They were experienced, battle-hardened soldiers, but even they seemed wary of the squad's abilities.

"Alright," Sahaad muttered under his breath. "Let's get moving."

They set off into the jungle, the squad leading while a small company of Red Tails followed in formation. The jungle was alive with sound—the chirping of alien birds, the distant calls of unknown creatures—but the squad moved silently, their footsteps barely disturbing the underbrush.

As they wove their way through the jungle, they encountered some of the local fauna. Large, reptilian creatures with leathery wings and long necks hovered in the air, their dark eyes watching the soldiers from above. Others, with fur like iridescent feathers, moved through the trees with a grace that seemed unnatural for their size. One of the creatures—a massive, quadrupedal beast with tusks—crossed their path.

"Hold fire," Sahaad whispered sharply through the comms as Kato shifted slightly, ready to engage. "We don't want to alert the rebels."

The squad halted, staying perfectly still as the beast lumbered past, oblivious to their presence. They watched it disappear into the thick underbrush before continuing their march, making their way deeper into rebel territory.

After what felt like hours, the faint smell of smoke drifted through the air, followed by the murmur of voices. Sahaad raised a hand, signaling the squad to stop. They crouched low, hidden in the shadows of the dense jungle, peering through the leaves at the small rebel encampment ahead. The rebels were gathered around a makeshift fire, laughing, smoking, and drinking, their guard down.

Sahaad assessed the situation quickly. There were maybe a dozen rebels—humans by the looks of it—scattered around the clearing. They were undisciplined, sloppy, with no patrols or proper lookouts posted.

"Melee only," Sahaad whispered through the comms. "Stealth kills. We move fast and quiet."

Zara grinned beneath her helmet, her hand already on the hilt of her combat blade. Ji simply nodded, his usual calm demeanor unwavering.

Sahaad gave the signal, and in an instant, the squad moved. They were nothing but shadows, blurs in the darkness. Zara was the first to strike, her blade flashing in the dim light as it sliced through the neck of an unsuspecting rebel, who crumpled to the ground before he could make a sound. Ji followed, his movements quick and precise, dispatching another two rebels in seconds.

Kato, ever the barbarian, punched their heads clean off splattering the surroundings with blood and entrails. Nate moved fast, slicing them in half with his phase-blade. Meanwhile, Sia had placed a suppressor on her firearm, firing quiet lasers and burning holes into their heads.

Sahaad moved with deadly efficiency, his knife finding the throats and hearts of rebels with brutal precision. One by one, the rebels fell, their lives snuffed out before they could even react. They didn't have time to scream, didn't have time to reach for their weapons. The Imperators moved too fast, their augmented bodies turning them into living weapons. It was over in moments.

The Red Tails, still stationed at the edge of the clearing, watched in silence. They hadn't lifted a finger, observing the Imperators as they wiped out the rebel camp with surgical precision. Sahaad noticed their passive stance but brushed it off. They were Praetorians after all—experienced soldiers who knew when to strike and when to watch.

Still, the way they observed the Imperators felt off. It was as if they were being evaluated, tested. But for what?

As the last rebel hit the ground, Sahaad signaled the squad to regroup. "Clear," he said quietly, wiping his blade clean on a nearby tarp. He scanned the surrounding jungle, still wary of any potential threats.

Sahaad slipped into the leader's hut, its entrance concealed beneath layers of thick, woven fabric and overgrown vines. The air inside was damp, heavy with the scent of sweat and gunpowder. In the dim light, his enhanced eyes immediately scanned the room, quickly assessing its contents.

Ammunition crates were stacked haphazardly against the walls, alongside weapons that looked shockingly outdated for a rebellion in the far reaches of the galaxy. Rifles with wood frames, ammunition belts slung over chairs, and grenades that looked as if they had been cobbled together from scrap. Sahaad crouched by one of the rifles, his fingers brushing over its surface. It looked eerily familiar.

He lifted one of the rifles, examining it closely. It was almost the size of a pistol in his arms. Its design was unmistakably crude, a stark contrast to the high-tech energy-based weapons used by the Federation's forces. The metallic sheen of the weapon, the unmistakable shape of the barrel—it immediately brought memories flooding back from his old life on Earth.

"An AK-47," Sahaad whispered to himself, incredulity in his voice. The design wasn't a perfect match, but the resemblance was uncanny. "Why are they using these?"

He stared at the weapon in his hands, his mind racing. In his previous life, this type of gun had been common in Earth's conflicts—reliable, easy to manufacture, but nowhere near the kind of technology the Federation used. The primitive nature of the rebels' arsenal made him question how they had been giving the Red Tails such a hard time.

Setting the rifle down, Sahaad rose to his full height, looking around the rest of the hut. Maps lay scattered across a table in the center of the room, detailing areas of the jungle with strategic markers. It was clear the rebels were well-organized, but their weapons… they were so backwards compared to the cutting-edge technology the Federation had at its disposal.

Sahaad inputted the coordinates for the strategic markers onto his HUD, before contacting the rest of the squad.

Sahaad tapped into his comms, signaling the rest of the squad. "Zara, Ji, Kato, Nate, Sia I found the leader's stockpile. It's… strange. These weapons are old. Real old. Almost ancient. How could the Red Tails be having so much trouble?"

There was a pause before Sia's voice crackled through the comms. "Maybe the terrain's giving them problems. Or... maybe there's more going on here than we thought."

"Could be," Sahaad replied, though his instincts told him there was something else at play. He glanced out of the hut, where the Red Tails still stood, watching them from a distance. They remained motionless, their armor blending with the shadows of the jungle.