Wind howls could be heard through the apartment walls. The weather at Grissom Colony was always terrible. A light fog one moment, and a raining downpour the next. This is something the terraforming project was to ultimately calm. Sergei Dorreton, a man hardened by the unforgiving life of new colonies, looked down at his son, Alexi, a small boy of ten wearing a black-eye.

“'Listen, Alexi,' he said, 'it doesn't matter who started it. You need to learn to navigate this.”

Alexi, his small hands fiddling with a toy soldier, looked up at his father, his brows furrowed. "But Papa, they never listen. They always do what they want". He places the figurine, modeled after the marines aboard Republic Standard vessels, in an action pose on the table in front of him. Sergei pauses for a moment before leaning in closer. His arms were still damp from the incessant rainy season that plagued Grissom Colony. Despite the rain, the farms still struggled. The terraforming project was supposed to take a decade, but it had already been 32 years.

"We never let them win... we'll just have to prepare harder for tomorrow." Sergei realizes he has half an energy ration left over from work. He opens a work belt he had laid over the couch. Sometimes the Central Repair Center rushed his lunch shift, and today was one of those days.

Tau Ceti Grissom was a small colony struggling with debt, and stations in 'repair work' were frequently understaffed. Sergei and his wife, Sandra, alternated schedules, earning enough to provide their family with one of the better dwellings near the city hall. Sergei moves to the kitchen and glanced back.

"What's the homework for tonight?"

"There's none tonight; she said we deserve a break."

"Alexi...""Ugh, there's like, two math sets. Can I finish them after screen time?"

"You could, but you'll starve."

"Please?

"You can eat after homework, and I don't think that will come quickly after two hours of screen time." Sergei tapped a small circle on the wall. A makeshift desk folded out from the panels. He grabbed a chair and placed it at the table. Alexi eyed the desk and grudgingly began rummaging through his digital teaching tool.

"Sometime today?" Sergei said with a deadpan stare.

"Ugh." Alexi pulled himself up before plopping down in the chair. "When is mom getting home?"

"You know she's at work; she'll be back tomorrow." Sergei looked out the window at the towers dotting the colony's perimeter. They had been built in response to armed vagrants that once frequented the area. A larger claim status within the Republic hierarchy had been granted ten years ago, allowing for Republic defense funding. Observation towers now monitored the settlement's perimeter, while improvised concrete walls serve as a crude barrier against the countryside.

"When will she be done with her job?" Alexi asked.

Sergei maintained his gaze out the window, shifting his focus from tower to tower. "She's saving our planet," he said softly. "Bio-tectonics is important to us, Alexi. It's important to all of us, on this world and in this system."

"I wish she would just quit and come home," he muttered, not looking up from his homework.

Sergei paused before heading back to prepare their energy rations. Stopping halfway, the blinking lights of the distant towers drew him closer to the window.

"I wish she'd come home too," he thought to himself, for Sergei was beginning to suspect something was happening outside the colony walls.

In the labyrinthine, sterile corridors of the Bio-Tectonic facility, Dr. Sandra Dorrenton moves quickly to the lab, her mind a whirlwind of deadlines and presentations. The day's pivotal experiment was imminent, and the anticipation was tangible. As she navigates the corridors, she nearly collides with Administrator Klotterberg. Dressed in full white dress uniform, Klotterberg sits as the division head of Bio-tectonic research. His impatient pacing was interrupted by Sandra's arrival as she skids to a halt.

“Dr. Dorrenton, it appears your punctuality is inversely proportional to your enthusiasm for this project," Klotterberg remarked, always making an effort for a clever joke. Sandra let out a sigh, hair falling across her face as she brushed it away.

"My apologies, Administrator. I was working in the latest round."

A spark flickers in Klotterberg's eyes, his eyebrow arching in interest.

"Better results? Do we have more than little diggers?"

They continue towards the lab, passing through layers of security that feel oppressive even to Sandra, who understood the classified nature of their work. Pallets of synthesized pheromone line the halls. The presence of armed personnel and constant surveillance only heightened her unease.

Klotterberg took notice as they walked, descending into a pristine observation window.

“This became an operation over-night …I've been trying to tell you."

Inside the adjacent lab, her team was preparing the chemical serums for a nest of creatures most commonly referred to as ‘Terra Ants’. The new formula aimed to further increase the efficiency to which the terras can target a specified area for soil aeration. This was the vision Sandra had hoped for. Farms would be able to work plots in months, maybe even days, instead of years.

Turning to Lieutenant Wellard, she inquires, "What is the status of our first run?"

He glanced up from his workstation, "We've successfully administered the Thesium, subjects are reacting as expected and we're beginning to mine through target zone 2.

"Very well. Pull up a larger overlay of the nest.."

"Dr. Dorrenton!' Wellard shouts. Sandra turns to see one of the senior researchers pointing at one of the observation screens. The terra ants were now in chaos. Their bodies were blurring, their movements erratic and agitated.

“They're having another reaction” the researcher exclaimed..

“Dial back the emission”

“Already at .5%”

Sandra's eyes widened. "Abort the experiment."

The room fell silent as the master alarm set the room to a bluish hue . Sandra watched the ants with bated breath, waiting to see if they had averted disaster. Klotterberg stands motionless. His eyes go from footage over to Sandra.

“Well Doctor, I think we’ve impressed the necessary people.”

Looking up almost half-relieved, the expression immediately fades as she is gripped by a sinking feeling. The guards that had escorted them in were no longer present. Klotterberg, mimics the realization and accesses a panel on the wall to send a message to the surface. Confused at why the device is non-responsive, he slowly looks over Sandra, unable to produce a witty remark. In the distance, a faint scream echoed through the facility, leaving them to wonder if they had truly managed to contain the situation.

Amidst the hum of machinery, the distinct crack of a billiards game echoed through the corridors of the Search & Defense Station 01. Lt. Devensh Nessi, the station's first mate, found himself drawn towards the sound. Slowing his stride in the hallway, he turns to take a look into recreation.  The room was a stark testament to the station's utilitarian ethos, its industrial design devoid of any embellishments. Two pilots were engrossed in their game, their focus unbroken despite the attention it had garnered.

"Why is it ya’ll are up so late?" Nessi asks.

The pilot cocks her head, analyzing the next shot.

"Don't look at me, Ness. He's the one that keeps denying me anything worthwhile."

Her co-pilot, 2nd Lt. Dixon is polishing his que. "She's put a damned spell on the table. This is punishment for the last flight, isn't it? It's hell, sir."

Lt. Nessi stops before leaning in, "Wait... You guys telling me this is the same game from earlier? You've been at this ..hours..."

2nd Lieutenant Rollins leans over the table in preparation for the shot. The gold wings of the flight leader emblem stretch across the forearm of her uniform. Her eyes travel from her copilot's eyes to the emblem and back to the copilot.

"Won't have to trouble you much longer, Dix," she says with a wink, "Forty more points, and I'm out of this system. Let somebody else in the service ferry these cats around, no offense LT." Her eyes shift back to the cue ball.

"The only offense is what might be the longest game of pool I've ever seen."

Lt. Nessi walks over to the middle of the table before looking at Rollins. Rollins goes through a final practice motion.

"You boys can go medal chasing all you want..." She strikes the cue and proceeds to shank the intended ball, rolling it into the opposite corner pocket."...and we're so counting that."

Dix looks over to Lt. Nessi, "... Navy needs to reassess its flight program. Some odd balls have gotten through."

"You're lucky I fly you anywhere at all..." she retorts and struts around the table. Without warning, a survey operator shouts down the main corridor.

"XO, surface call, TC-Grissom."

The Lieutenant smiles as he shakes his head at the flight officers. He lets out a sigh and proceeds to operations.

"I'll be right there."

High above Tau Ceti’s colonies rests the L.O.S. Station (Low Orbit Security). It carries a complement of 2 landing teams, each suited with a J-34 'Old Horse' for insertion and interdiction. LOS 1 is under the command of Field Captain Fowler, along with 4 pilots and 2 surveillance crew to support operations. The history of these security stations is a testament to the Republic's resolve, having played a vital role in securing the outer territories. Bonds between the crew members and the colonies below run deep, with many recruited from the outlying planets they're tasked to defend.

‍

Tension grips the expansive command center inside Grissom Colony as technicians scramble amidst the escalating situation over at the research site, only one valley over. Mayor Haneul Lee stands at the center of the bustling room, observing it all with growing unease. Mayor Lee had been appointed to lead this remote colony just one year ago, eager to prove himself to the powers on Centauri Prime after years in obscurity. But now the unfolding crisis threatens everything he has worked for. The same species engineered to till the planet and mines, was now moving into the nearby farms by the hundreds.

"What’s the report on team 1?.. Now!" Lee demands.

"We have lost contact with Senutta Farms," one official replied. "No response from the team, last report is just them saying the thunder is getting louder."

Mayor Lee dismisses the news, expecting the barriers and repellant to hold for the arriving fleet. He still hoped the spreading disaster could be contained. Reports had started near the Bio-Techtonic Facility and he knew that it was best not to ask any questions concerning the experiments on the terras. Thinking to himself, surely the Republic would have a force ready if the situation were to get worse. He takes a look around and decides it best not to wait.

"Seal off all access through the wall, starting with the southeast gate." he ordered, trying to keep his voice steady. "Send all the footage we have to the orbital S&D, put the Captain on the line immediately"

The command staff works to comply as Mayor Lee continues to monitor the chaotic situation. Somewhere within, he harbors reservations, the fleeting thought that maybe he had taken the colony to oblivion personally. “Was it to be Mayor?” he ponders. The adrenaline of a survivor's instinct overcomes him, it was time to leave the colony and take as many as he can with him.

Outside the relative safety of the command center, terror was starting to take hold as unconfirmed rumors spread. The fast winds have turned into sheets of rain as the storm moves closer. A growing crowd is starting to assemble outside the only municipal spaceport. Sergei Dorrenton rushes over to get in line with his son Alexi, clutching his boy tightly amidst frightened crowds also seeking shelter. Unlike those inside, Sergei already suspected just how severe this crisis was becoming.  He knew the dangers of what his wife was working on. He anxiously checked and re-checked their position in the queue, praying the perimeter walls could hold back a swarm. They had to arrive soon. He peers up at the sky, searching for any sign of approaching vessels. Rain washes over his face as he can only see dark clouds rolling in to the march of thunder.

Inside, rising anxiety mounts as the swarm nears the colony's outer defenses. Technicians issued panicked status reports while Mayor Lee paces around. He hoped against desperate hope that Republic military leadership might yet arrive to rescue them.

A comms technician stands up to grab his attention. “Sir, I have Captain Fowler”

“Finally”

The General Alarm rings out, echoing through the tight corridors that make up the orbital defense station. "Full Gear" shouts 2nd Lieutenant Nessi over the alarm.

A small group of personnel has gathered over the comms console. Captain Tara Fowler stands hovering over the operator leaning on her propped up leg. Her expression morphs into disgust.

“Ok that's enough, now let’s see the Senutta footage” 

The operator proceeds to pull up the arrayed footage sent from the colony. The horror on the faces of everyone watching turns blankly still as they watch several terra ants rip the armatures off an industrial combine. The haunting screaming heard from the vehicle's occupant is immediately muted as one of the creatures is seen crawling inside.

"Ness!" shouts Captain Fowler, sticking her head around a bulkhead.

"Aye Mam," he responds.

"Load Red," she orders.

"Aye Mam!” he replies before addressing his unit in the armory.

The rescue team is busy donning their suits and service weapons.

“Load up the hot ones"

Nes places an open pallet of magazines with red bands and each squad hurries through line grabbing several of each. Over in the comms room, Captain Fowler is finishing her conversation with Mayor Lee.

“I see it as plainly as you do Sir… yes, yes Sir I understand the repellent isn’t working.” She pauses before continuing, well aware that the entire control room on the surface can hear her response.

“Stand by for extraction, both teams are enroute. Fowler Out.”

As the rescue team hustles, Fowler and Nes gear up with their suits in the comms room. An operator swivels over, “Admiral Thenly, Mam”.

She reaches over to grab an extra headset that’s resting on the station.

“Captain Fowler reporting”

A familiar if not stern voice answers “Captain Fowler, this is Admiral Thenly. Update us."

"The situation appears critical, Admiral. The terras have gone feral. They’re attacking the colonists, eighty casualties and counting."

A moment passes before Thenly answers.

“Captain, I've got Wallace here, Governor of Caprulu. He has information critical to the situation on the ground.”

An impatient and raspy politician quickly comes over the line before the Admiral can finish his sentence.

“Captain, we’ve seen this before. I need you to hear me on this, you cannot save these people. Where there are three, there are three hundred. 

Fowler sits impatiently, sharing a stare with Lt. Ness.  

Governor Wallace is heard continuing, “When the queen is ‘agitated’, the entire colony will begin to swarm. Feral as you put it. Now these ants are more capable than you could possibly imagine. I implore you not to risk the lives of your people or equipment, you’re sitting with two J-34s and those aren't…”

Captain Fowler cuts him off. “With respect Admiral, I have 800 to ferry off the surface, and I’m losing time”

Admiral Thenly's voice intervenes over the transmission. "We're two hours out, Captain. We’ll get there and see what we’re working with"

Fowler breathes, “We don’t leave people alone out here Sir.” Looking on, Lt. Nes nods in agreement. 

Fowler and Nes fasten their helmets as the crackling of an empty transmission lingers. Through a knowing set of glances, they convey the decision to move forward. Admiral Thenly's voice comes back over the line.

"Captain."

"Amiral."

"Save as many as you can."

"I intend to, Sir."

In the cockpit of Old Horse 1, Lt. Rollins and her co-pilot proceed through the pre-flight checklist,

"Fuel cell integrity?" Rollins asks.

"Check," her co-pilot responds

"Vector calculations?"

"Check."

"Entry shielding?"

"Check, enough for another 3 burns at this angle."

“Preflight go” Rollins nods, then keyed the intercom. "Prepare for Hot Drop" She glanced at her co-pilot, then back at the control panel.

"Ignition in 5...4...3..." As she counts down, Fowler and her team brace for the mission ahead, determined to leave no one behind.

 —---------

Down at Grissom Colony, Sergei and Alexi stand among a growing crowd of anxious residents. The large gates to the colony are closing, and the tension in the air was palpable. Sergei's hands tighten around his son's shoulder, trying to comfort him amid the chaos.

"What's going on, Dad?" Alexi asked, his eyes wide.

"I don't know, but we need to stick together," Sergei replies, scanning the crowd for any sign of information. As the gathering grows larger and restless, people start to push and shove, fear turning to violence. Security personnel struggle to maintain order, their voices drowned out by cries of panic.

The situation escalates as one particularly aggressive civilian lunges at a security officer. In response, the officer forcefully puts the man down with a soft shot, his body crumpling to the ground. Shock and horror rip through the crowd. Sergei knows that whatever chance they have for survival is likely coming from the government building. He holds onto Alexi tightly, determined to stay in line and maintain their position near the entrance. Another woman cries out in anguish as she’s squeezed between two larger workers.  A great thunderous snap is heard above and a sudden hush falls over the crowd as the ground quakes. Two deafening sonic booms echoed through the sky, followed by the roar of J-34 engines. The crowd looked up to see two Old Horse transports streaking through the sky.

Cheers and applause erupted. Hope swells, momentarily drowning out the fear and chaos that had gripped them moments before. But Sergei, still gripping Alexi's shoulder, knew exactly how many each transport could hold.