Solari Robert Jerome Desai knew a bad assignment when he saw one. EL1-37-D did not need a better name. His stellors improved it anyway. They called the planet Hades. Someone had added a sign outside the forward operating base: WELCOME TO HADES. AT LEAST THE DEVIL HAS AIR CONDITIONING.
Welcome to Hades
The mission was simple, according to the orders: maintain control of the assigned region at all costs. Desai asked why. Command repeated the order. He requested intelligence justification. The response was vague: strategic significance, possible future threat, further information unavailable. So he prepared for everything he could imagine, and hoped the thing command had refused to describe was something he had already imagined.
The stellors hated the food. Nike Specialist Kayla Andrews sat across from First Velor Umbakto Michaels staring at something beige. "What is that?" "Protein." "That is not an answer." "Edible protein." Desai passed behind them. Kayla looked up. "Solari, respectfully, this is the sixth time this week." "Then your digestive system has demonstrated compatibility." "You know what I want?" "Transfer orders?" "Real food." "Anything else?" "Combat." The table went quiet. Desai looked at them both. "Be careful what you wish for."
The Disappearances
Three hours later, the first stellor disappeared. He had been assigned to inspect a sensor emplacement near the western perimeter and failed to return. A patrol found his scanner. Nothing else. No blood. No damaged equipment. No sign of struggle. The second stellor disappeared the following evening. Then the third. That night, the jungle screamed — a long shriek rolling through the trees. Every conversation inside the FOB stopped.
They found the first bodies the next morning. Bodies was not technically the correct word. Parts. An arm thirty meters from the rest. A torso against the remains of an equipment emplacement. A leg still inside its combat boot. Not eaten. Simply scattered. Weapons had been destroyed too. No burning. No energy scoring. No projectile damage. No tracks. No footprints. No landing marks. Kayla wiped her mouth. "What did this?" Nobody answered.
Then eleven stellors died in one night. Whatever attacked the emplacement had destroyed the MGT-10. Desai stood among the dead. Something bothered him. The location. "Previous attacks — where?" Umbakto understood. "Near heavy weapons." Desai looked toward the forest. "They're selecting targets." Then he remembered the intelligence brief. "This is why we're here." Kayla's face changed. "And you didn't tell us?" "I didn't have anything useful to tell." "Now we know." "No. Now we know something kills us." That was not the same thing.
The Hypothesis
Dr. Liana Lane, a civilian SIAGE scientist, and Captain Sarah Lodenmore offered a hypothesis. "What if it isn't an animal? What if it's a weapon?" Sarah continued: "Something that doesn't attack from outside. The wounds are strange because maybe they aren't wounds. Something acts inside the body." Lane's eyes widened. "Imagine a weapon capable of producing localized space-time stress relaxation — but instead of affecting an external region, focusing the effect inside tissue." "It would pull structures apart from within." Desai looked toward the destroyed emplacement. "Range. Something like that would have a range limit." "Almost certainly if the emitter is portable." "That's why the MG positions. It can't tolerate long-range fire."
Desai decided to do both: harden the FOB, and send a team into the forest. Lane stared. "You've just developed the worst possible compromise." "Maybe. But we are not going to sit here and wait to be dismantled." He straightened. "Pugnabimus usque ad finem." We fight until the end. He selected Captain Stacy Krump and Command Lancer Denzel Perry to lead the expedition. He did not order them. "You will not receive guaranteed reinforcement." Both said, almost together: "Count me in."
The Expedition
The jungle shrieked around them. Something moved high in the canopy. The second night was worse because they were becoming tired. Then Miyamoto disappeared — no scream, no shot, one moment present, next moment gone. Washington died next — his body jerked, then ruptured, not exploded, separated. Then Wright vanished. Then Luther. Then Edwards. Phan died without anyone seeing the attacker. Remmington finally got what she had wanted — combat. She fired until the rifle overheated. Something screamed. Then her torso twisted violently. She fell in pieces.
By the time darkness returned, only Krump and Perez remained. "FOB, expedition. Request immediate reinforcement." Static. Krump dragged an MG-30 into position. Perez shouted: "Request reinforcement!" Krump looked at him. "Don't bother." "What?" "Fight until the end." She opened fire. Thorium rounds ripped through trunks. Vegetation exploded. Nothing. No target. No movement. Only forest. Then Krump stopped firing. "If it wanted us dead — we'd be dead." She stepped away from the MG. "Perez." No answer. He was gone.
The Light
Krump stood alone. She raised both hands. "I'm done. I surrender." The shrieks stopped. That frightened her more. "I know you're not Quolesh. I don't know what you are. But I'm sorry. We shouldn't be here." She lowered herself to her knees. "You know, humans have done some terrible things. We had wars before we ever reached another star. World War One. World War Two. Then Sharra Zul'Elkoen. That bitch killed hundreds of millions. We've killed each other because of land. Religion. Race. Governments. Money. Fear. But we're better now." She stopped. "No. We're trying to be better." The distinction mattered. "We aren't perfect. We're just trying to live."
Then light appeared. Pale. Soft. Approaching. Not painful. Beautiful. Fear disappeared from her face. Tears ran down her cheeks. "Dad. I wish you were here to see this. It's beautiful." She stepped forward. Another step. "So beautiful." Then she entered the light.
The Last Lesson
Ten kilometers away, Kayla saw the glow above the forest. Desai made his decision: "Prepare the Tavor for battle." What happened next was reconstructed only partially. The Tavor deployed. FOB defenses opened fire. Something entered the perimeter. Stellors died inside bunkers. Heavy weapons fired until ammunition boxes emptied. Hours later, the FOB was no longer a functioning military position. A recording repeated through a damaged communications system. Desai's voice. Calm. Tired. "This is my last transmission. If I don't make it out, tell my family that I love them. And tell Fleet Ranger Lewis that I'm sorry. This is Solari Robert Jerome Desai. Signing off." Then nothing.
Three weeks passed. Rain fell. The jungle continued. Someone moved through the ruins. Greg. The Jayke. Not the Jayke, he would have corrected anyone still alive to say it. Greg. He looked upward. A vessel far above. Dragon class. KAVOE Gormundrenar. He sighed. "I told you all to leave." He lit a cigarette. "But no. I'm just a Jayke." High overhead, the Gormundrenar opened its launch systems. Antimatter warheads. No evacuation warning. No request for identification. No attempt at capture. Whatever decision had been made above him was final. Greg took another drag. "I suppose that answers the question." The first antimatter warhead detonated. For a fraction of a second, night became white. Then Hades became light.
Gem survived because something ancient chose compassion. Roy discovered that truth does not always make justice simple. John learned that mercy can still end in death. Shirley faced a case where evidence pointed in opposite directions. And Desai learned the last lesson: sometimes the unknown does not wait for us to understand it. Sometimes it kills you first.
I'm Iodva. You decide.
