The request came in swiftly: a full dossier on the crew of the Patrol Vessel Aurelius.
The commander unfolded the classified reports, scanning each profile with sharp eyes.
Stellar Executive Noah – Age 25. Specialist in both ranged and melee combat. An expert in hand-to-hand encounters, his record showed seven deployments, the most recent aboard the Aurelius. A balanced soldier—calm, efficient, lethal.
Stellar Executive Carlo – Age 25. Renowned for close-quarters skill and infiltration. Five successful deployments. Where Noah fought with discipline, Carlo struck with instinct. His record carried whispers of missions that never made it to the archives.
Stellar Sub-Commander Sara – Age 26. Intelligence specialist and precision marksman. Fifteen deployments. A veteran of the first rebellion wars, she carved her reputation with ruthless tactics and flawless executions. Promotions came swiftly to her, as though war itself opened the path.
Stellar Commander Harold – Age 27. A strategist forged by battle. Expert in melee and intelligence operations, with eighteen deployments. His rise was not born of luck nor connections, but of sheer combat brilliance and a tactical mind that bent chaos into order. A man other soldiers called the iron calm in the storm.
The commander's gaze fell to the last file—and froze.
Hary Garcia. Age 30.The file scrolled on…Pilot. Gunner. Fighter ace. Warship commander. Infiltrator. Close-combat expert. Tactician. His dossier read less like a soldier's record and more like the chronicles of a legend.
The commander muttered under his breath, "What kind of pilot is this…?"
His eyes widened as he reached the final annotation:
Veteran of the Interstate Wars. Victor of the final campaign.
Silence filled the hall. The name alone carried the weight of history.
One of the aides, hesitant, broke the silence. "Sir… this is the Hary Garcia. The man who ended the Interstate Wars."
The commander leaned back, stunned. "A war hero… hidden among a patrol crew? Why would a man like this be assigned as nothing more than a pilot?"
The soldier cleared his throat nervously. "Sir, according to intel… he only boarded the Aurelius to see how the juniors would handle themselves. That's all."
The commander fell silent, then let out a heavy sigh, a shadow of a smile tugging at his lips."…Garcia. He never changes, does he?"
After the short investigation the Grand Admiral did not hesitate to consider that the report was true and not some mere fake news, because of the credibility of his friend Hary Garcia a fellow Grand Admiral in the military.
Afterwards the Grand Admiral arranged a press conference, along with the other officers under him that he has an urgent news to tell and must be broadcast worldwide and the whole GalacticaNet.
"The report given by the Patrol Vessel Aurelius is not a fabrication—it is the truth. Our hero, Navion Pulsar, six-star commander, has fallen… not because of an accident, but to the treachery of the Rebel forces. His death must be known by all. Let every citizen remember his sacrifice and let this loss awaken us. For this war will decide humanity's future."
The announcement struck the worlds like a tidal wave. Citizens mourned their fallen hero, their grief mixing with fury. Anger at the rebels flared hotter than ever. Families who lost loved ones wept; soldiers clenched their fists. Across the galaxy, humanity's resolve hardened.
Meanwhile, on Viped—the Rebel stronghold.
Their base roared with celebration. Soldiers drank and laughed, waving makeshift banners of victory.
"Hah! So much for their precious Sky Marshal!" one sneered. "Those government dogs thought they were untouchable! Look at them now!" another shouted.
But the battalion leader silenced the noise with a single glare. "Enough. I heard something else in the broadcast… talk of aliens. What's this nonsense?"
A soldier stepped forward and handed over a datapad."Sir, images captured during the patrol. They claim these figures were involved."
The leader narrowed his eyes at the still frame: a towering black figure armored like steel.
"…Hmph. Likely propaganda. A scarecrow wrapped in metal." His voice dripped with skepticism, though his eyes betrayed unease. "But… if there's even a shred of truth to this, it could shift the war entirely."
He turned sharply."Send this to Intelligence. Let them dissect it. And inform High Command—let them decide if this is a threat… or an opportunity."
As the soldier rushed to obey, the leader smirked, shadows dancing across his face."If this rumor spreads, it could break the government's back. Or break us first."
Back aboard the Aurelius.
The patrol ship swirled with tension. Whispers raced through the halls, unease mixing with disbelief. Their quiet pilot, Hary, had just been revealed by the broadcast—he was none other than Grand Admiral Garcia.
Harold slumped into his chair, pale as moonlight."I… ordered a Grand Admiral around," he muttered, horrified. "Saints preserve me, I was his superior!"
Sara buried her face in her hands. "I feel like I should apologize for every word I've ever spoken to him…"
Carlo and Noah burst in, wide-eyed."Sir! We're honored to have you aboard!" Noah said stiffly.Carlo practically shoved a datapad into Hary's hands. "Grand Admiral, please, may I have your autograph?!"
Hary chuckled, adjusting the plain glasses perched on his nose."Well, well. I never thought my little disguise would unravel this fast. A single broadcast, and here I am, exposed."
Carlo blinked. "…Wait. That was your disguise? Glasses?"
"Hohoho!" Hary laughed, signing Carlo's datapad with a flourish. "Sometimes the simplest masks are the hardest to see through, young man."
The room froze in awkward silence for a heartbeat—then broke into uneasy laughter. For a brief moment, despite war, loss, and doubt, the Aurelius felt lighter.
As the Aurelius touched down on the landing platform, the ramp hissed open. Flashes erupted instantly—reporters swarmed on both sides, shouting questions and waving recorders, but none dared cross the barricades held firm by military guards.
At the far end of the runway stood a familiar figure, waiting calmly—Grand Admiral Damian (35), the very man who had delivered the broadcast to the galaxy.
Damian's stern face broke into a smile as Hary descended.Damian:smiles warmly "Well, well, Garcia. You never change with those old habits of yours, do you?"
Hary:laughs, stroking his chin "Hohoho, what can I say? We're both getting old, old man. I was just curious how the future of the military is shaping up."
The two clasped hands, laughter echoing briefly—yet the moment shifted. Damian's tone dropped, his eyes narrowing.Damian: "Enough catching up. We've been searching for you. It's about the… incident. Aliens. Another report surfaced just recently. Still classified, but… troubling."
The air grew heavier, the laughter of moments ago replaced by an unspoken tension.
Hary:nodding, then turning to Harold "Commander Harold, you and your crew return first. I've a meeting to attend. It was a fine journey… and I find it fitting that your team will handle the upcoming mission." He winked knowingly before walking away with Damian.
The Aurelius crew filed back into their quarters, exhaustion setting in after the day's whirlwind.
Harold:exhaling deeply "Well, everyone… what a day. Get some rest while you can."
Crew: "As commanded, Stellar Commander!"
The group chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
Noah and Carlo exchanged glances, barely able to contain their excitement.Carlo: "Commander, it's Christmas Eve—the last night of the holiday. We're heading home for a family visit. You sure you don't want to celebrate with us?"
Harold:forcing a faint smile "No thanks, guys. I'll stay here for now. Still have… a lot to sort out."
Carlo: "Alright then, commander. See you later. And you too, Sara!"
Noah:tugging at Carlo's sleeve "Hurry up, Carl—it's already 10:00 p.m. By the time we get there, they'll all be asleep."
The two left in a hurry, laughter trailing off as their footsteps faded.
Now only Harold and Sara remained in the quiet quarters.
Sara:softly, with concern "Commander… are you alright?"
Harold looked away, the faint glow of the monitors reflecting in his eyes.Harold:cold smile "Yes, Sara. I'm fine."
But his voice lacked warmth, carrying the weight of unspoken burdens.
The silence stretched, leaving Sara to wonder what shadows lingered behind that forced smile.