PROJECT: CAYRO

Captain Edwards

October 22, 2025

05:07 EST

Edwards’ Apartment, York Town, VA

Finally, I collapsed onto my couch, exhausted beyond belief, cracking open a well-deserved beer. The past forty-eight hours had been a goddamn nightmare. Taking a sip, I leaned forward to pick up the maintenance reports. Skimming them, I was relieved to see that the repairs on Death Reckoning were finally complete. My crew had been working non-stop for a month, pushing to get the ship back into fighting shape.

Leaning back and stretching out, I reviewed the modifications I had requested. After our encounter with the Autumn, I knew we needed better armor in critical areas. The upgrades made the ship heavier, but that wasn’t an issue since Autumn had destroyed the old hydrogen production plant anyway. Justifying the request was easy once I explained that the extra armor would require the new plant. We were turning Death Reckoning into a stealth dreadnought—ready to absorb hits, but still able to disappear when needed. I wasn’t about to relive the nightmare of that last battle again.

Setting down my beer and the paperwork, I closed my eyes and tried to unwind. The reports weren’t enough to distract me from the weight of the past few days—or the last month, for that matter. The secrets I had unearthed, the hidden world simmering just beneath the surface of what people think is "normal." The more I discovered, the more I realized I was on the wrong side. The transformations, the procedures the two teams went through, the shadowy organization pulling the Colonel’s strings... it terrified me.

Worse still, I had been part of the creation. The Colonel had convinced me that Star Zaraki and Cayro Bracton were weapons the SAF could use against the country. But as the pieces started falling into place, it became clear: they weren’t the threat. The knowledge contained within them, the data embedded in their very DNA—that was the real weapon. And I had delivered it right into the Colonel’s hands, and whoever he answered to.

The more I thought about it, the clearer it became. The SAF went rogue because they understood what this information meant, who would wield it, and for what purpose. Project Cayro was never just a test. It was a trial run, a proof of concept to see how far the limits of human hybridization could be pushed. And now, the blueprint for an unstoppable army of advanced hybrids existed. Whoever controlled that power would control the world.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Glancing at my phone, I pulled up the camera feed and saw the last person I expected—my First Sergeant. Her face told me everything I needed to know: she was exhausted, defeated.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I opened the door.

“Sir…” she began, her shoulders slumping even lower. “I need to talk to someone, and you’re the only person I could think of without violating the order.”

I stepped aside, letting her in. She drifted into the living room, while I headed to the kitchen, grabbing two beers from the fridge. When I returned, I found her curled into the corner of the couch, trying to make herself as small as possible. It was odd, unsettling even. She wasn’t just a small woman; she was always a commanding presence, demanding attention in any room. But now? It was as if she was trying to disappear.

I sat down a respectful distance away and offered her a beer. She took it, hesitantly, twisting off the cap but not drinking. The tension was thick between us. Whatever was on her mind weighed heavily, almost tangible.

“What’s bothering you, Sergeant?” I asked, keeping my tone professional, even though deep down, I wished it could be more personal. Regulations were in place for a reason, and we both thrived on order.

“All of it, sir,” she answered flatly, staring at the untouched bottle in her hands. “This entire situation.”

“Yes, the last forty-eight hours have been a nightmare,” I agreed, nodding slightly.

“Dammit, Edwards, I’m not talking about the last forty-eight hours!” she snapped, her eyes flashing as she glared at me.

I blinked in surprise at her informality, at the disregard for rank. Anger flared in my chest, ready to put her in her place, but when I saw the tears forming in her eyes, I swallowed it down. I took a long sip of my beer instead, giving her space.

“Okay,” I said softly. “Then what are you referring to?”

“I’m talking about everything that’s happened,” she said, her voice carrying frustration. “Things aren’t adding up. This is supposed to be the military, not some secretive, shadow organization. The very same organization I ran from all those years ago...” Her eyes dropped to the untouched beer in her hands.

I blinked, processing the weight of her words. There was a lot to unpack here. Setting my own beer down, I decided to go straight to the heart of it—the organization she was referring to, the Nact Society.

“What do you mean, you ran from this so-called secretive organization?” I asked quietly, giving her the space to open up.

She took a deep breath before answering. “The Nact Society is deeply entrenched. They’ve been part of the U.S. government since its inception, working in the shadows. They hunt supernatural beings or use them to manipulate politics.”

She paused, letting that sink in. I didn’t interrupt, and after a moment, she finally took a sip of her beer and continued.

“As Colonel Sirnic mentioned the other day, my family was once revered as some of the best hunters and huntresses. But when I was eighteen, I was away at college, and my entire family was attacked.” Her eyes closed, clearly trying to suppress the painful memory. “No one survived. I came home to find the house soaked in blood. My father... torn apart. My mother... her heart ripped out. My little brother...” She stopped, a tear sliding down her face.

I swallowed hard and waited. This wasn’t something you could rush. She needed to tell it in her own time. I was sure that I was the first person she had ever shared this with. No matter how close she might have been with her previous team, this wasn’t the kind of story you shared without getting a direct line to the psych ward.

“The Society claimed my family was attacked by a pack of werewolves,” she continued, her voice more controlled now. “But here’s the thing—there hadn’t been a full-on pack attack in over two centuries. Werewolves learned long ago that they needed to keep their true nature hidden as technology advanced. DNA matching is a science now, and it would expose them. They wouldn’t risk that.” She looked at me then, and I could see the fear creeping into her expression—fear of what she was revealing.

If what she said was true—and with everything I’d seen lately, I had no reason to doubt her—then it made sense. I already had two teams under my command who were essentially vampires. Everyone knew the Helsing name, a legend wrapped in mystery and myth. If she was descended from that line, and if vampires were real, then it stood to reason that werewolves were too.

“What do you think really happened?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation moving.

“My family openly opposed the use of supernaturals in the Nact Society. They believed it was against the natural order. The Society was supposed to maintain balance, to keep the dark world hidden from humans. Or at least, that’s what I was told. But when I found my family slaughtered, it didn’t make sense. Werewolves had mostly gone underground, stayed out of the limelight. Why would they attack the Nact? Why would they target the one family that every supernatural being feared?” She asked the question rhetorically, taking another long sip of her beer before continuing.

“The day after I found my family, I enlisted in the Army and turned my back on the Nact Society. I didn’t know what had happened, but I was damn sure it wasn’t a werewolf pack. For the next fourteen years, I threw myself into my career, redirected my skills to climb the military ladder, and never looked back. Now, my past has come for me. The very thing I ran from has caught up, and it’s pulling me into its web of lies and manipulation.”

She dragged her hand down her face, wiping away the tears that had gathered on her sharp cheeks.

“When did you first suspect that your past was catching up to you?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“The moment I faced that... thing aboard the Death Reckoning,” she said quietly. “I recognized the growls, the noises it made. And when I got a close look at the claw marks it left behind, I knew what it was.”

I leaned back, absorbing what she had said. The “thing” she fought on Death Reckoning? I was almost certain it was Cayro Bracton. It made a twisted kind of sense. If the current teams were evidence of genetic manipulation involving vampires, then why not werewolves too?

“I think the thing you fought aboard Death Reckoning was Cayro Bracton,” I said, piecing it all together. “It fits. Team Dark Raven and Team Bravo were enhanced based on the information we got from Star Zaraki. Star and Cayro are the only known survivors of Project Cayro. That means the project likely used werewolf genetics to enhance them both.”

Ashley’s glare cut through my explanation. “Do you realize what you just implied?” she demanded.

I frowned. “I’m not following.”

She closed her eyes, clearly frustrated. “Cayro and Star… they revealed in that video that they’re a couple. If what you’re saying is true, we didn’t just take Cayro’s girlfriend—we took his mate.”

I blinked in confusion. “Mate? That’s an odd way to describe a girlfriend.”

Ashley facepalmed, mumbling something that included the words uneducated, supernatural, and animal instinct. Arching an eyebrow, I watched as she let out a frustrated huff before fixing me with a serious look.

“Edwards, werewolves and other supernatural creatures refer to their spouse as a mate. Mate equals wife or husband.”

“Oh,” I replied, feeling a bit dumb.

“Yeah, oh. We kidnapped Cayro’s mate, and of course he came after her. A mated pair will do anything—die—to protect each other. What we had on board Death Reckoning was a werewolf hybrid on a mission to get his wife back. Nothing was going to stop him, especially not with that advanced tech he was using. That gear? Even spec ops don’t have access to that kind of equipment.” She gave me a knowing look.

I understood immediately. She had warned me about this aboard Death Reckoning when we first took Star from the SAF.

“Yeah, you were right,” I admitted bitterly. “We opened Pandora’s Box, and now there’s no closing it.”

“Oh, you don’t say,” she muttered, her fiery attitude returning. It made me crack a smile.

She noticed. “What the hell are you smiling about? This isn’t funny, Edwards,” she growled, her strength clearly coming back.

I bit my inner cheek, trying to suppress the growing attraction I had for her. This was not the time, and it sure as hell wasn’t allowed. “It’s nothing,” I muttered, trying to wave it off.

A second later, she was in my face, her eyes narrowed. “Tell me.”

Giving in, I sighed. “I enjoy seeing your tough side. It’s… attractive.”

Hours later, I found myself sprawled naked on the living room floor, with Ashley draped across me. When I admitted my attraction, something in her snapped, and just like that, every regulation, every sense of decorum, flew out the window. It was like a dam burst, and all the tension and secrets building around us erupted. The release was… satisfying. And honestly, it did wonders for my mental state.

Ashley stirred, looking up into my eyes. “Damn,” was all she managed to say.

“Yeah,” I replied quietly.

“I needed that,” she said with a playful grin.

I chuckled, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Now that my mind was clear again, the thoughts I had been mulling over before she showed up returned. “I’m going to say this carefully, so don’t think I’m a traitor,” I began cautiously.

She arched an eyebrow in question.

“I don’t think the SAF is the enemy the government and military make them out to be,” I confessed, holding my breath, waiting for her reaction.

She slid off my body and lay next to me, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyebrow still raised, she gestured for me to continue.

Letting out a breath, I continued. “I think the SAF—at least Captain Jacob Bracton and Dr. Zaraki—knew what was happening from the start. We know Captain Bracton ordered the SAF to abandon the military, but if you look at their actions over the years, it’s clear they’ve had a purpose. They never struck first. They made themselves publicly known, and they released damning evidence against the federal government. Enough to cause setbacks and prevent whoever’s been manipulating events from continuing the research. It boils down to one simple conclusion.”

I had Ashley’s complete attention now. She leaned in slightly, waiting for me to finish.

“I think the SAF was tasked with protecting and hiding all the research related to Project Cayro. That includes Star Zaraki and Cayro Bracton. They knew how devastating this information was—and how easily it could be weaponized.”

Ashley sat quietly for a moment, absorbing what I had said. Then, she nodded. “That actually makes a lot of sense. With what we know now, I can see why they did what they did. The question is, what are we going to do?”

“I think it’s time we have a one-on-one meeting with the SAF—outside the U.S. We need to get a better understanding of what Project Cayro really is. If it’s what we’re thinking, then we’re in for a world of hurt. The U.S., and maybe the rest of the world, too.” I paused, letting the weight of it sink in.

Ashley narrowed her eyes slightly. “And how, exactly, do you plan to meet with them when they’re halfway across the planet?”

“We’re going to Seoul, Korea. The Colonel approved the idea. Direct attacks haven’t been working, and he thinks my plan to approach them might be a better method. It gives us the opening we need.”

She gave me a look of approval. “Sounds like we have a plan.”

I smirked. “Now all you have to do is train Team Dark Raven on how to compete in skyboarding. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

Her eyebrow arched, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Raven and Ray are going to love this.” She paused, then added, “What about Team Bravo?”

“They’re being transferred to a different unit. They’ll continue their training and field testing there.”

A shadow crossed her face at the mention of the transfer. “Are you sure that’s a wise decision, now that we’re starting to understand what’s really going on?”

“It wasn’t my call. It was the Colonel’s.”

Ashley frowned. “I’ve got a feeling this is going to come back and bite us.”

The truth was, now that she mentioned it, I had the same feeling. We were losing half of the subjects, and there was no telling where the Colonel was sending them. If things went sideways—and I had a gut feeling they would—we might end up seeing Bravo Team on the wrong side of the conflict.

“You’re probably right about that,” I admitted.