Chapter 8: The Crash
The air inside the ship grew thick with tension. The lights flickered above, casting eerie shadows on the steel walls. Then, with a shrill tone, the monitor beside the captain beeped again.
Another message.
The captain turned to look at it, and his face turned pale.
"It's from Earth… the Council," he said grimly.
Everyone on the bridge quieted. The transmission played immediately. The voice was shaky, nervous, strained with panic.
"Taiquim has seen your ship. He has identified your location. His attack has already begun prepare immediately. He is not bluffing. Repeat, he is not bluffing"
Before the message could finish, the pilot screamed over the sound of alert sirens.
"INCOMING! A swarm of alien flying jets approaching fast! I can't count them it's hundreds! Maybe more!"
The ship rumbled violently. Outside the windows, dark shadows streaked across the distant sky, blotting out the faint stars. Black ships. Sharp. Alien. A storm of flying machines racing toward them like a school of deadly sharks.
"Red alert!" the captain barked. "All soldiers—battle stations! Ready the machine guns!"
But it was already too late.
The enemy jets opened fire before the Earth ship could react. Blinding streaks of green plasma tore through the sky. Explosions rocked the hull. Panels burst open, wires sparked, and pieces of the ship's plating ripped away.
"Main power down!" someone shouted.
"Shield generators offline!"
Another blast threw two soldiers to the floor. Smoke began to pour through the vents.
The captain clenched his jaw. "There's no way we'll survive this in the air. Not like this."
He slammed the emergency button on the control panel and turned to the bridge crew.
"Order the full evacuation. All soldiers eject using the emergency safety boards. Get to the planet's surface. Survive. That's an order!"
Chaos erupted.
Dozens of soldiers sprinted toward the ejection deck. Safety boards, the only gliders left for escape, began deploying from the ship's underside each like a narrow wing with a seat and a personal gravity shield. The jets, already deployed earlier, were gone now it was only the escape wings.
Outside, the sky was fire. Explosions everywhere.
And below them Taiquim's planet, waiting like a trap.
In the engine bay, hidden in a small room lined with tools and rusted panels, Coain lay sleeping on a bench, his arms wrapped tightly around his tool bag. His chest rose and fell slowly, too exhausted to dream.
But then came the sirens.
The danger alarm screamed into his ears piercing, relentless. The red light flickered above him.
"DANGER LEVEL: 0%. TOTAL SYSTEM FAILURE."
Coain jolted awake. Smoke was already crawling into the room like a shadow.
"What what's going on?" he muttered, coughing.
He stumbled out of the room into the main hallway. Soldiers were running, shouting. The floor shook beneath his feet. Another explosion threw sparks into the ceiling.
He saw soldiers ejecting, the safety boards launching out through side panels. Coain grabbed the arm of one of them. "What's happening?!"
"We're under attack! Taiquim sent a full swarm. No time! Get a board and go!" the man yelled, pushing past him.
Coain ran toward the ejection bay.
But when he reached it, it was already too late.
Only the captain and ten soldiers remained. Ten safety boards.
Eleven men.
The captain turned to him as if noticing him for the first time. His voice was quiet, cold.
"…Coain. You've done your part. You got us this far."
"What?" Coain asked, chest heaving. "Where's my board?"
The captain looked away, avoiding his eyes.
"There are only ten left," he said simply. "We don't need engineers anymore. We need soldiers."
Coain froze. "What are you saying?"
"I'm… sorry," the captain replied.
One by one, the soldiers stepped onto the remaining boards. No one looked at him. No one spoke. Coain's voice caught in his throat, and before he could form another word, they launched—ten streaks of white light shooting into the atmosphere below.
And he was alone.
Left behind.
Smoke hissed around him. Sparks rained from the ceiling. Somewhere behind him, the ship's engine gave a long mechanical groan, and the deck tilted slightly. He heard metal bending, collapsing.
Coain stood frozen.
Heart pounding.
Mouth dry.
Alone.
Betrayed.
He didn't move. Couldn't speak. The hum of the dying ship filled the silence they left behind.
Absolutely! Here's the continuation of Chapter 8 following from:
And he stood there… for a few long, hollow seconds.
The ship creaked and groaned like a dying beast. Smoke poured through the vents. The floor shook under his feet. Lights blinked red in every corner. The alarms screamed as if the ship itself were in pain.
Then something hit him.
He was alone.
Alone on a ship that was burning.
Alone on a ship that was crashing fast.
And it was heading directly toward Taiquim's planet.
Panic surged through Coain's chest but his body moved on instinct.
He sprinted toward the central brain core of the ship the main control hub, where most systems could be overridden, rerouted, or preserved.
He wasn't going to save the ship. It was far too late for that.
But maybe just maybe he could save its future.
If he could reduce the destruction, preserve key systems, the broken ship could still be rebuilt. Maybe not today. Maybe not this year. But someday. Even if it took five years. Even if it took forever. He would find a way.
He reached the brain chamber smoke was thick, fire licking the sides of the walls. Sparks flew everywhere.
Coughing, Coain forced his way to the primary panel. The interface was damaged, half the screen shattered, but it still lit up barely.
His fingers flew across the keys.
"Rerouting power to structural stabilizers… cutting off core meltdown sequence… disabling auto-destruct… activating shield buffer for internal sections…"
"Come on… come on…" he muttered, sweat running down his face, mixing with grime.
He pressed a final command, one he'd never thought he'd use outside simulations:
'Crash Mode: Soft Buffer Override.'
This wouldn't stop the crash but it would tell the ship to collapse in a controlled way.
Sacrifice the outer layers.
Save the bones.
Save the heart.
Then he turned and ran engine room.
He had one more shot.
Inside the dark, smoking tunnel of machinery, he climbed through twisted scaffolding. Steam hissed out of broken pipes. The hum of dying energy pulsed through the walls like a slow heartbeat.
He found the engine heart a central sphere of metal coils, the core of the reactor housing. The safest part of the ship during a crash. A space designed to withstand cosmic pressure, heat, and impact.
It was tight. Cramped. But it would protect him.
He crawled through the emergency hatch, dragging a small toolbox and a portable oxygen unit with him. He squeezed inside and sealed the hatch.
His chest heaved.
The ship was screaming now groaning louder, faster.
Danger Alert: 0% Stability. Total Collapse Imminent.
Collision: 00:00:35… 00:00:34…
Coain closed his eyes. He whispered something, not sure if it was a prayer or just a breath.
Outside, the alien sky darkened as the ship plunged into Taiquim's atmosphere. The hull tore apart, plating flew into flames. Long metal wings snapped like matchsticks.
The ship massive, scarred, and now breaking apart descended in a fiery trail like a wounded comet.
And then
CRASH!
A thunderous explosion tore across Taiquim's planet. The ship hit the surface like a meteor, sliding across rock and sand, digging a long, burning trench into the ground. Fire and smoke blasted into the air as the rear exploded. Fragments flew in every direction sharp and scorching.
But deep inside, buried in the engine heart, Coain survived. He trembled in the dark, still clutching the inside wall. The noise was deafening. He didn't move. Didn't breathe. Just held on.
The ground stopped shaking.
He was alive. For now.
But outside, the war was still raging.
Alien fighter jets Taiquim's swarm had followed many of the ejection boards, shooting them mid-air or chasing survivors across the rocky plains.
Flashes of light streaked across the sky as Earth's soldiers fought back, defending themselves even as they fell toward hostile terrain. The sounds of distant weapons echoed in the upper air, mixed with the screams of war and the alien roar of Taiquim's engines.
Some Earth soldiers landed safely. Others didn't.
Smoke rose in pillars across the alien world.
And in the deepest part of the ship wreckage, Coain sat in silence trapped, alive, but broken. He didn't yet know what waited for him outside. He didn't know if anyone had survived.
He only knew one thing:
He had made it.
For now.