Inside the cold logistics chamber, filled with the scent of lubricant and the hum of cooling systems, Reuel strode confidently toward a Terran Marine officer reviewing the weapons manifest on a holographic screen. Without pleasantries, he issued his command in a firm, unquestionable tone.
"Arm the rookies. Equip them with full armor and standard weaponry. I want them adapting to this environment now. No exceptions, no delays."
"Yes, Lord Emperor," the officer replied, saluting with perfect military form.
Reuel didn't respond to the title. He simply gave a sharp look, then turned and walked toward the command deck of the Alesia. In his mind, one thought burned bright: commanding a Federation ship from Starship Troopers. A childhood dream, born from his first viewing of the Starship Troopers film and the Gundam series, was now within reach. He wanted to feel what it was like to pilot the Alesia—not as a spectator, but as the captain in command.
"Lord Emperor," Jonah greeted as Reuel entered the command bridge, surrounded by control panels and tactical displays.
"Don't call me that. On this ship, I'm just Captain Alesia."
"Understood, Captain," Jonah replied quickly, adjusting his posture.
Reuel left the armory and returned to the control center. He spent the next stretch of time immersing himself in Alesia's systems—reviewing fire control modules, automated defense turrets, navigation systems, and the landing craft stored in the hangar. He studied every technical detail meticulously, ensuring there were no gaps in combat readiness. He even double-checked emergency launch protocols and backup power recovery systems, confirming that Alesia could survive even the worst-case scenarios.
Once satisfied, he returned to the command chair and leaned back slightly, his eyes fixed on the main screen displaying orbital maps and troop status.
"Jonah, what do you know about the space fortress Fort Casey?" Reuel asked, still staring at the screen.
"Captain, Fort Casey is a frontline asteroid base owned by the Federation. Strategically located and equipped with weapons and logistical support for Mobile Infantry forces. But… most of the information is classified as top secret. Even I only know the basics."
"What's the official mission of the Mobile Infantry stationed there? And why have you been there before?"
"According to reports, our primary objective was personnel recovery and evacuation. There's a secret Federation lab there studying Arachnid bugs. Their experiments were never publicly disclosed, but rumors of genetic manipulation and neural control have spread among the technicians."
"How long until we arrive?" Reuel asked, steering Alesia into its designated orbital path.
"We'll arrive in about twelve hours, Captain."
Reuel nodded and leaned back in his chair, trying to rest for a moment. But his mind remained active, spinning through scenarios. Fort Casey wasn't just to be captured, he thought—it had to be secured completely. The technology and infrastructure inside were too valuable to be destroyed or lost. He wouldn't allow a single Federation Mobile Infantry unit to plant explosives and flee. The task of clearing Fort Casey would be handed to the Astra Militarum, not to reckless Federation troops who too often acted without coordination.
Time passed quickly. The stars outside the observation glass shifted, marking their final approach. Alesia had officially entered orbit around Fort Casey. The autopilot adjusted speed and position, while the tactical display showed local gravity data and optimal landing paths.
Troop units had been prepped and loaded into military landing craft. Medivac teams and logistical support followed behind, carrying medical supplies, extra ammunition, and communication gear. From the bridge's observation window, Reuel tracked every ship movement with precision, ensuring no errors in the launch sequence.
He activated his communicator and spoke to Selene, who was in the main hangar with the troops.
"Selene, deploy our forces too. The landing craft are ready. Don't let the Federation mob blow up that base. I want Fort Casey intact and under our control."
"Understood. I'll go down with them and make sure Fort Casey stays intact. None of them will have time to detonate anything. If necessary, I'll interrogate their commander myself."
Reuel's eyes shifted to the tactical hologram displaying live landing data. Suddenly, a new signal appeared on the radar. The auto-identification system immediately highlighted the object and displayed full data.
A heavy cruiser drifted into range, its massive frame slowing as it entered Fort Casey's orbital perimeter. The transponder ID lit up clearly on the screen.
John A. Warden.
A Federation heavy warship—one that wasn't supposed to be in this sector. Its presence wasn't listed in the latest intelligence reports, and no entry request had been sent to Alesia.
And inside it, most likely…
Carmen, Reuel thought.
That little girl had probably been stripped of her command… and now they were moving her to Fort Casey. Whether as a prisoner, an observer, or something more complicated.
---
Inside Fort Casey, Mobile Infantry Team A-01 was deployed swiftly from their landing craft. Combat boots slammed against the metal floor of the space station just as a swarm of bugs surged from the dark corridors. Alarms blared, red lights flashed, and the sound of gunfire began to echo.
"MOVE! MOVE! Shoot them!" shouted Lieutenant Tony Daugherty, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Rapid bursts from Morita rifles rang out across the battlefield:
THAK-THAK-THAK-THAK!
Team A-01 advanced in formation, unleashing a barrage of fire on the Arachnid swarm. Insect bodies exploded, green fluid splattered against the walls, and within seconds, the immediate threat was neutralized.
After securing the area around the landing zone, Team A-01 pushed deeper into Fort Casey. Daugherty led with quick steps, his eyes scanning every corner. Upon entering the main corridor, he spotted another squad engaged in combat on the western flank—Team K-12.
"Status report, soldier!" he barked.
Lieutenant Otis "Bugspray" Hacks turned, his face covered in dust and sweat, his breathing heavy.
"Sir, Major Henry Varro has been detained inside Fort Casey by Carl Jenkins. I've taken command of Team K-12!"
"Sir, there are still people inside," added Ratzass, a K-12 trooper, firing rounds at bugs crawling along the walls.
"Then we're getting them out," Daugherty replied without hesitation.
Team A-01 mobilized immediately. Some began planting explosives at strategic points to destroy the bug nest after evacuation. Others held the perimeter, while the rest advanced to assist K-12 in clearing the creature-infested corridors.
Moments later, the sound of heavy engines echoed from outside the station. An unidentified landing craft touched down on the main platform. A Medivac shuttle descended, its doors opening, and dozens of Mobile Infantry and Terran Marines emerged in disciplined formation.
From one of the lead ships, a striking woman stepped out—Selene. She wore a sleek leather suit without armor, walking calmly through the chaos, issuing orders in a low but commanding voice.
Team A-01 watched her warily. They had never seen troops like this. Behind Selene marched ranks of Terran Marines, Firebats, Medics, and Marauders in tight formation. They were led by a veteran known across multiple universes: Tychus Findlay.
Their armor was heavy, reinforced, and gleaming. The twin-headed eagle was etched into their chests, and large shoulder shields bore deep blue insignias. Every step they took shook the floor.
Lieutenant Daugherty narrowed his eyes, suspicion clear in his tone.
"HALT! Identify yourselves!"
A-01 and K-12 shouted in unison:
"WHAT UNIT ARE YOU!? WE'RE TEAM A-01!"
Selene's troops didn't respond. They simply aimed their weapons at the Federation soldiers and held position. Formation tight, weapons raised. No communication. No compromise.
The accompanying Astra Militarum forces remained silent as well. Their helmets concealed their expressions, and their posture conveyed one thing: they trusted no one outside their ranks.
From the edge of the battlefield, several A-01 troopers observed closely. Blood-red Firebats advanced to the front line, followed by blue-armored Terran Marines, black-armored Marauders, and white-clad Medics bearing red crosses. Behind them came troops from the Underworld universe—rookies wearing gear similar to Starship Troopers, but with modifications never seen before.
Now, their combined force numbered in the hundreds. Their armor was advanced, impact-resistant—a testament to cutting-edge battlefield engineering. Faced with such power, Team A-01 chose to hold position and stay silent rather than provoke a conflict they didn't understand.
Tychus Findlay grinned, his deep voice cutting through the air even without turning.
"Sweetheart, teams one through four are combat-ready. Just say the word, and we'll decorate the walls with bug guts."
Selene stepped forward calmly. "Leave one team to build defenses. Wait for the rest of our forces. The rest—come with me. I'll handle all the bombs in this base."
Team A-01 fell silent. Realization began to dawn: the unarmored woman was leading the entire operation. Some of them felt relieved—grateful they hadn't acted cocky earlier.
Tychus turned, surveying the battlefield with his signature half-mad grin.
"Well," he muttered, "Looks like we've got uninvited guests. And trust me—I hate bugs."
He stepped forward, his voice echoing across the open field.
"Firebat, take the front! Marauder, hold the flanks! Medic, stay close—don't let anyone bleed out. And you rookies? Try not to die. That armor still smells like the factory."
With that, the combined forces surged forward—Firebats igniting walls of flame, Marauders securing the sides, Medics spreading out to aid the wounded, and Underworld recruits charging ahead, their resolve forged in the furnace of war.