"Tomorrow is the day we deploy. Our target is positioned directly beneath this massive breach. The opening is 600 ters high and roughly 800 ters across at its widest point. The science team has already identified a gap that leads directly into the inner ring."
Inside the tactical briefing room, Jason pointed to a structural diagram of the UFO ruins.
"Since the ship’s inner ring might still have active power, we’ll continue using automated drones to clear the path. A swarm of drones will take the vanguard, and we will follow close behind. If we find anything of value, we dismantle it and bag it."
Jason’s expression turned dead serious. "We move out at exactly 0800 hours tomorrow. Double-check your personal gear. I won’t waste ti going over the squad assignnts again; you all know your roles, right?"
The team nodded in unison.
The strike team consisted of Captain Jason, the precognitive Calvin, heavy gunner Marcus, sniper Shane, demolitionist Johnny, a combat dic, a cyber-warfare specialist, and three engineers tasked with salvaging alien tech.
It was a small squad, but every mber had a vital role. They were all indispensable.
"Once boots hit the ground tomorrow, you will follow my orders, I don’t know what’s waiting for us inside that ship, but I am responsible for every single one of you, and safety cos first. You have my word on that."
He scanned the room. "Strict military discipline is in full effect. If things go south, nobody panics. You hold the line and act like the soldiers you are. Understood?"
"Understood, sir!"
"Alright... Dismissed!"
The rest of the night passed in silence. The special forces operatives were seasoned veterans, and the technical specialists were the best in their fields. Adrenaline was running high, but they all managed to force themselves to get so sleep.
Calvin was the only one who felt cornered. His instincts scread that this operation was dangerous, and he had initially tried to back out. But orders were orders, and in the end, he had no choice but to comply.
At 0730 hours the next morning, the squad assembled at the staging area, fully suited and ready for deploynt.
Under the watchful eyes of the crew, bus-sized rovers rolled off the cargo elevators one by one. Compared to the colossal Federation flagship Noah, they looked as small as ants.
But these tiny ants were about to represent all of humanity in challenging an unknown extraterrestrial civilization.
"Move out!" At Jason’s command, the rover convoy rumbled forward.
The Martian landscape bore a passing resemblance to the Badlands back on Earth, rugged, silent, and painted in endless stretches of orange-red. But the soil here was a deeper, rustier shade of red, and infinitely more desolate.
Sitting in the lead rover, Jason felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of ambition. The underlying knot of tension in his chest remained, but it was now mixed with a strange, intoxicating thrill, the primal human urge to explore the unknown.
He had a gut feeling that this expedition might be the catalyst for the rise of a new era of human civilization.
This was technology from the future, hundreds or thousands of years beyond anything humanity had ever built. No matter the cost, they had to secure it.
He noticed Calvin staring blankly out the window and clapped him on the shoulder. "How are you holding up? Sense anything out there?"
Calvin shook his head. He had tried to look into the future multiple tis over the past few days, but every vision ended in a blinding, endless white light. It made no sense. In truth, his precognitive abilities only had about a 50% accuracy rate; he couldn’t trigger them flawlessly on command. It was entirely possible he was misinterpreting the visions, or that so external factor was interfering.
Still, much like Jason, he felt a creeping sense of dread. He kept his guard up, watching their surroundings carefully.
Ti passed by. Over an hour later, the lead rover finally slowed its pace. The convoy was approaching the periter of the crashed UFO.
"Alright, we’ve just entered the basin carved out by the automated excavators," Jason announced over the comms. "We still have about 20 kiloters to go.Put the Helts on, secure your seals, and prepare your gear."
The team acknowledged the order and locked their helts into place.
As the colossal alien vessel lood closer, everyone’s heart rates began to spike. Even hardened combat veterans like Marcus, Shane, and Johnny felt their pulses racing, their palms growing damp with sweat.
Suddenly, it hit Jason. A wave of pure, concentrated malice washed over him. His instincts scread at him: Danger! Extre danger! A cold chill shot down his spine. It felt as though an invisible blade was pressed against his throat, and so unseen, deeply hostile entity had just locked its gaze onto them.
In that split second, the veins on his forehead throbbed violently.
But the sensation only lasted for a fraction of a second before vanishing without a trace, almost as if it had been a hallucination.
"Captain!" Marcus called out, noticing Jason’s face suddenly pale.
"Calvin! Do you sense anything?!" Jason snapped back to reality and shouted.
Calvin was drenched in cold sweat, his eyes wide with panic as his heart hamred against his ribs. "I... I..."
He realized, to his horror, that his abilities weren’t working. No matter how hard he focused, he couldn’t enter his precognitive trance.
"No, I can’t sense a thing! It’s like my abilities are being jamd!" Sweat poured down his face. This had never happened to him before.
Jason’s brow furrowed into a deep scowl as he processed this. What the hell is going on? He checked in with the rest of the squad. Aside from himself and Calvin, who had felt the hostile presence intensely, the others just felt mildly uneasy. If he hadn’t pointed it out, they might not have noticed anything wrong at all.
Are we just going to turn tail and run at the first shadow? No. After a tense mont of hesitation, Jason made the call. "Keep pushing forward! We stick to the plan and recon the area."
Before long, the convoy parked beneath the massive breach in the UFO’s hull. The ground was littered with jagged tal plating and scorched debris. The interior was completely gutted. According to the science team, this cavernous space used to be an engine room before it was obliterated by heavy weapons fire.
Jason clicked on his heavy-duty tactical flashlight and swept the beam upward. Sure enough, roughly 300 ters up the sheer interior wall, there was a dark service tunnel leading deeper into the ship.
He weighed their options for a mont, then stepped back out into the open and signaled the team. "Hold your positions. Let’s start the salvage operations down here first."
The engineers nodded and imdiately set up their gear, while the combat specialists ford a defensive periter, weapons raised.
Only the lead rover was a personnel carrier; the rest of the convoy consisted of heavy engineering rigs outfitted with automated cutting arms. The engineers climbed into the rigs and began dismantling the complex tal piping protruding from the ship’s exposed belly.
According to the experts back on the flagship, these conduits were either weapon arrays or long-range communication arrays. While so were slagged beyond repair, others were in surprisingly good condition, with their internal circuitry largely intact.
Every ti a piece was successfully detached, the researchers watching the rover’s live feeds back on the Noah would erupt into cheers. The science division was monitoring the strike team’s every move. Despite advancents in automation, standard drones simply didn’t possess the fine motor control and adaptability of a human engineer.
Because the ship’s hull was already ripped wide open, the salvage teams were able to use the jagged tears as natural access points. The extraction went incredibly smoothly. After roughly six hours of steady work, the thirteen primary salvage objectives were successfully completed without a single complication.
This put Jason sowhat at ease; even if they turned back now, the haul they had just secured made the trip worth it.
The squad rotated back to the rovers to hydrate, eat so field rations, and rest for a few minutes before returning to the breach.
"Captain, if you’re certain there’s a hostile presence in there, shouldn’t we pull back?" Shane, the sniper, asked, nervously licking his dry lips. It wasn’t that he was a coward, but he trusted Jason’s combat instincts with his life.
Jason shook his head. Turning tail at the first hint of trouble wasn’t in his nature. He knew the golden rule of tactical ops: risk and reward are directly proportional.
If there really was an active power source deeper inside, it ant they might find fully intact, functional alien technology!
"I’m going up first. The rest of you, hold the periter and cover from down here."
He took one last look around to ensure the coast was clear, then unspooled a coil of carbon-fiber rope. He loaded a heavy grappling hook into his pneumatic launcher, aid at a thick tal strut protruding from the tunnel entrance high above, and pulled the trigger.
With a sharp thwack, the hook shot upward.
Aided by the planet’s weak gravity, the grapple sailed easily up the 300-ter vertical drop, wrapping tightly around the tal strut and locking into place.
Jason tested the line, putting his full weight on it a few tis. Satisfied it was secure, he jumped and began his ascent.
Free-climbing a rope was basic training for any special forces operative. Since there were no footholds on the smooth tal walls, Jason had to haul himself up using sheer upper-body strength, relying heavily on his core, arms, and legs to maintain his rhythm, a grueling physical task.
In standard military obstacle courses, a rope climb was rarely taller than 20 ters. Right now, he was scaling a 300-ter vertical drop!
Down on the ground, Shane, Marcus, and the rest of the squad stared intently at the dark opening above, their weapons raised, providing overwatch as Jason climbed.
Thankfully, Mars’ gravity was only a third of Earth’s, which drastically reduced his body weight and the strain on his muscles. After roughly five minutes of steady climbing, Jason reached the top.
He hoisted himself onto a small tal landing, roughly 10 square ters in size. He crouched in the shadows, waiting patiently in the dead silence. His hands gripped his modified Gauss Rifle tight, ready to unleash hell at the slightest sign of movent.
After a tense minute, Jason confird the tunnel was clear. He signaled the team below with his flashlight and keyed his comms. "Attach the portable winch to the line. I’m hauling it up."
Turning his back to the dark tunnel, he began hauling up the heavy chanized winch. This was the most vulnerable part of the operation; he had to focus his physical strength on pulling the heavy gear while constantly checking over his shoulder for an ambush.
Miraculously, nothing jumped out at him, which left Jason deeply unsettled.
Had he just been paranoid...?
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