Some time has passed since they have successfully captured Faith and confined her in the holding cell. The troopers are gathering the scattered crates and items that were ejected out of the ship, as well as rescuing the ejected troopers from the previous battle. Trooper 117 was walking through the hallway while having some thoughts in his own head. This entire situation has been nothing but questions to him and the others.
What were they doing? Was there something to guard inside this frigate, or were there other purposes for them to be there? But most importantly, whose voice was it that was telling him to protect Faith, and why was he so compelled to follow its orders?
With those in mind, he continued onward towards the bridge. To meet up with Trooper 421 and the others and discuss their next move.
As he arrived, the bridge of the frigate buzzed with activity as Trooper 421, 553, 309, and several others gathered around the central holo table, yet appeared to be grieving about something. Noticing this, 117 addressed the troopers while looking around to see who was present.
"Where's 108?"
Trooper 309 answered him in grief. "He… Didn't make it. When I got there to help him, he… Bled out"
"I see," Trooper 117 answered while holding the pain of losing a fellow soldier to himself. So, he steeled himself up and continued to address everyone on their current problem. "Other than him, it seems like everyone is here. We need to figure out where we are and what we were doing here."
553, leaning against the holo table with arms crossed, nodded in agreement. "That Faith girl got a serious vendetta against you, 117. Any idea why?"
117 shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. "No, but I have a feeling it's connected to why we're here. We need to find out who that dead woman is and why Faith blames me."
421, standing slightly apart from the group, chimed in with a quiet intensity. "I managed to search the database here about those drones. It appears to be a prototype nano drone weapon developed by that dead woman. We're lucky the drones were still in testing phases, otherwise, we'd be in real trouble."
553 chuckles "Yeah. Glad she could only scratch my armor. Might need a new one later."
421, then return to the console to continue his search. "I'll see what else I can dig up here. Maybe there's something we've missed."
As 421 worked, the squad fell into a contemplative silence, each lost in their thoughts and memories. It was then that 117 realized that something was missing.
"Hey, where's the body?"
309 raised his hand. "I moved it to the morgue. I figured we might need to keep the body fresh in case we need it for something."
"You're not wrong there. Good call, 309."
As the squad delved into the ship's database, searching for clues about their past and the enigmatic nano drones, a sudden tremor rippled through the frigate. Klaxons blared, and emergency lights bathed the bridge in an eerie red glow.
117's heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and dread. "What's happening, 421?"
421's fingers flew across the console. "I don't know. The ship's systems are malfunctioning. It's like... we're being pulled somewhere."
Before anyone could respond, the frigate lurched violently, throwing the squad off balance. The hum of the ship's engines intensified to a deafening roar, drowning out any attempt at communication.
553 gripped the edge of the holo table, his eyes wide with alarm. "We're in a warp jump? To where?"
309 braced himself against a nearby console, his voice barely audible over the cacophony. "We need to find a way to regain control before—"
Before 309 could finish his sentence, the frigate shuddered one final time before hurtling out of warp space. The sudden deceleration sent shockwaves rippling through the ship, knocking loose debris and sparking electrical fires.
Other troopers on the bridge stumbled and clung to whatever they could find, their faces masks of confusion and fear. One trooper shouted, "What's happening? Why are we jumping?"
Another responded, "I don't know! The controls aren't responding!"
With a deafening roar, the frigate plummeted through the atmosphere of a mysterious planet, its hull groaning under the strain of re-entry. Flames licked at the viewport as the ground rushed up to meet them.
117 struggled to maintain his footing as the ship bucked and swayed, the screams of tortured metal filling his ears. "Brace for impact!"
With a bone-jarring crash, the frigate slammed into the planet's surface, plowing through trees and sending up a plume of dust and debris. The impact threw all of them against the walls, their world spinning in a blur of chaos and confusion.
As the dust settled and the ship groaned to a halt, 117 staggered to his feet, his head swimming with dizziness. Through the fractured viewport, he caught a glimpse of their new surroundings—a forest world with a seemingly good ecosystem.
"We're alive," he breathed, relief flooding through him. "But... where are we?"
All of them exchanged uneasy glances, their minds racing with questions and uncertainties. Nameless troopers began to rise, groaning and checking their injuries, some murmuring among themselves.
Seeing the uncertainty and fear among the troopers, 117 took a deep breath and stepped up. "Listen up!" he called out, his voice cutting through the confusion. "We need to secure the ship and assess the damage. 421, start a systems check and see what's still operational."
117 then looked around, his eyes steady and commanding. "The rest of you, assist with medical and make sure everyone is accounted for. We need to secure our position. We don't know what's out there, so stay alert."
As the troopers moved to follow his orders, the bridge buzzed with renewed purpose and determination. 117 felt a surge of resolve. Despite their fragmented memories and the unknown challenges ahead, he knew they had the strength and unity to face whatever came next.
***
In the dimly lit holding cell, Faith was thrown against the cold metal walls as the frigate crashed. The force of the impact jarred the door mechanisms, causing sparks to fly and circuits to short out. The heavy door creaked open, leaving a gap wide enough for her to squeeze through.
Dazed but determined, Faith crawled out of her cell and stumbled down the corridor. "I need to get my drones," she muttered to herself, driven by the singular goal of escaping.
She made her way to the storage room where her experimental nano drones were kept. The room was in disarray, with equipment strewn about and alarms still blaring. Faith quickly located the container holding her drones and activated them. The tiny machines swarmed around her, forming a protective layer and readying themselves for any command.
As she turned to leave, she overheard voices coming from down the corridor. Trooper 117 and a few other troopers were approaching, their footsteps echoing through the metal hallways.
"Check the holding cells," 117 ordered. "Make sure she doesn't escape during the crash."
Faith's heart raced. She couldn't afford to be captured again. She sprinted towards the nearest exit, the nano drones forming a sleek, makeshift weapon in her hand.
117 and the troopers rounded the corner just in time to see her disappearing into the exit. "Faith, stop!" 117 shouted.
They chased after her, but the ship's damaged structure slowed them down. By the time they reached the exit, Faith had already slipped outside into the dense forest.
"She's gone," 553 said, panting. "She must have known the layout of the ship better than we thought."
"We can't let her get away. We need to find her before something happens to her. Let's move!"
The troopers went after Faith, moving into the dense forest to catch her again. Despite their desperation, the other troopers don't share 117's feelings. While they only wanted to capture her, 117 could feel something else other than the mysterious voice that was forcing him to secure Faith's safety. But, what it is, he couldn't determine it now, nor does he have the time to worry about such things at the moment.