NOVEL NEXT Chapter 419: All hands on deck
The war room Lucy had commandeered buzzed with the hum of holographic displays and data streams. Maps of the Sigma-7 system rotated slowly above the central table, casting blue light across the faces of Team 7 as they studied their target. Noah nursed his third cup of coffee, the bitter taste helping him focus after another sleepless night worrying about the kidnapped king and Vex.
"Alright, people," Lucas said, settling into his chair with the easy authority of someone born to command. "Let's hear reconnaissance options. We go in blind, we're dead. Simple as that."
Lucy manipulated the display, zooming in on Sigma-7's primary planet. The readout wasn't encouraging—atmosphere composed of sixty percent carbon dioxide, thirty-five percent sulfur compounds, and five percent trace elements that included several known toxins. Surface temperature averaged negative forty degrees Celsius, with wind speeds that could knock a person flat.
"Jesus," Kelvin muttered, squinting at the atmospheric breakdown. "Who the hell picks a vacation spot like this?"
"Someone who doesn't want visitors," Sophie replied dryly, studying the planetary data with tactical focus. "The question is how we get close enough to see what they're hiding without announcing our presence to the entire system."
Diana leaned forward, her analytical mind already working through possibilities. "Standard stealth approach would be passive observation from the system's edge. We position ourselves behind one of the outer gas giants, use long-range sensors to map traffic patterns and communication signatures. Build a picture of their operations without getting close enough to trigger defensive systems."
She pulled up additional data on her tablet. "The advantage is safety—we stay far enough out that if things go wrong, we can retreat without engagement. Map their patrol schedules, identify weak points in their perimeter, maybe intercept some communications to understand their operational structure."
"And the downside?" Lucas asked, though his tone suggested he already suspected the answer.
"Time and information quality," Diana admitted. "Passive observation from that distance means we're looking at data that's hours old by the time it reaches us. If they're moving prisoners or materials around, we might miss it completely. And if their communications are properly encrypted..."
"We learn nothing useful," Noah finished. "What's your approach, Sophie?"
Sophie had been quiet during Diana's presentation, her fingers drumming against the table in the rhythm she used when her mind was working through complex problems. "High-speed reconnaissance run. We go in fast, get close enough for detailed scans, map their installations and defenses, then get out before they can respond effectively."
She gestured to the planetary display. "Two ships, different approach vectors. First ship draws their attention, maybe even takes some fire to reveal defensive positions. Second ship uses the distraction to get detailed intelligence on their actual facilities."
"That's basically using ourselves as bait," Kelvin pointed out.
"That's exactly what it is," Sophie agreed without apology. "But it gets us the information we need in hours instead of days. We learn their response protocols, their defensive capabilities, and the location of anything worth investigating."
Lucas nodded thoughtfully. "High risk, high reward. What's the major weakness?"
"If their defensive systems are more advanced than we expect, the bait ship might not make it out," Sophie said bluntly. "And if they've got long-range pursuit capabilities, we could lead them back to Raiju space."
"My turn," Lucas said, activating his own tactical display. "Military reconnaissance protocol. We establish a forward operating base on one of the system's asteroids, then conduct systematic intelligence gathering using multiple methods."
The display showed a complex operational plan with overlapping phases. "Phase one: passive observation and signals intelligence. Phase two: automated probe deployment to gather close-range data. Phase three: manned reconnaissance only after we understand their full defensive picture."
"Thorough," Diana observed.
"Exactly. We build intelligence layers instead of gambling on a single approach. The asteroid base gives us a staging point for extended operations and a fallback position if things go wrong."
Lucy studied her brother's plan with obvious respect. "Time frame?"
"Two weeks minimum for proper intelligence development," Lucas admitted. "Maybe longer if their security is sophisticated."
"Two weeks your fathers don't have," Noah said quietly.
"Which is the weakness," Lucas acknowledged. "Military doctrine prioritizes force preservation over operational speed. In a hostage situation..."
"Speed matters more than safety," Sophie finished.
Kelvin had been unusually quiet during the presentations, his cybernetic arms making subtle adjustments to a device Noah didn't recognize. "Okay, my turn," he said, looking up with a grin that made everyone immediately suspicious.
"First, we hack their garbage."
The silence that followed was broken by Diana's incredulous laugh. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Their garbage!" Kelvin repeated enthusiastically, standing up to pace around the table. "Think about it—every civilization produces waste, right? Broken equipment, discarded materials, obsolete technology. And where does that garbage go?"
He gestured wildly with his mechanical arms. "Space! They've got to dump their trash somewhere, probably in a standard orbital decay pattern that eventually falls into the system's star. All we have to do is intercept their garbage stream and analyze what they're throwing away."
"That's..." Lyra paused, her analytical mind catching up with Kelvin's logic. "Actually brilliant. Waste analysis can reveal operational details, technology levels, population estimates..."
"Exactly!" Kelvin was in full enthusiastic mode now. "Broken circuit boards tell us about their electronics. Food waste reveals population size and species. Discarded medical supplies might show if they're treating injuries—or conducting experiments."
"Plus," he continued, warming to his theme, "garbage collection is automated. Nobody pays attention to waste management systems in this century, at least where I'm from. We could probably spend days analyzing their trash without anyone noticing."
Lucas was nodding slowly. "Low risk, detailed intelligence, minimal chance of detection. What's the downside?"
"Time again," Kelvin admitted, his enthusiasm dimming slightly. "Garbage analysis takes time to produce actionable intelligence. And if they're smart about waste disposal—incineration, matter conversion, that sort of thing—we might not find anything useful."
"But if they're careless with their trash..." Sophie said thoughtfully.
"Then we learn everything," Kelvin finished with satisfaction.
All eyes turned to Lucy, who had been reviewing each proposal with the calculating expression of someone used to making strategic decisions under pressure. "Interesting approaches," she said finally. "But you're all thinking too conventionally."
She manipulated the display to show Sigma-7's star, highlighting the solar radiation patterns. "The system's star produces regular electromagnetic pulse events—natural phenomena that would interfere with most sensor systems. Their communications, their defensive networks, everything would need to be hardened against solar interference."
"Which means periodic communication blackouts," Noah realized.
"Exactly. Every forty-seven hours, the star produces an EMP burst strong enough to disable most electronic systems for approximately fourteen minutes. During those blackouts, they're effectively deaf and blind."
Lucy's tactical display showed insertion vectors timed to coincide with the solar events. "We use the electromagnetic interference as cover. Multiple small teams, inserted during blackout windows, conduct rapid intelligence gathering while their sensors are down."
"Ghost protocol," Lucas said with obvious admiration. "Maximum intelligence gathering with minimal detection risk."
"What's the weakness?" Diana asked, though her tone suggested she was already thinking of several.
"Timing," Lucy replied immediately. "We get one shot every two days, and if we miss the extraction window, we're stuck on a hostile planet for forty-seven hours. Plus, if their defensive systems recover faster than expected..."
"We're trapped in the middle of their territory with nowhere to run," Noah finished grimly.
Uncle Dom had been silent during all the presentations, apparently more interested in examining the technical specifications of the coffee maker than participating in tactical planning. But now he looked up with the expression of someone who'd been following every word while simultaneously solving a completely different problem.
"You're all approaching this backwards," he said cheerfully, as if pointing out that someone had been reading a map upside down.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"Backwards how?" Lucas asked carefully.
"You're trying to gather intelligence about what they're doing," Dom replied, settling back in his chair with obvious satisfaction. "But the real question isn't what they're doing—it's why they chose that particular location to do it."
He gestured to the planetary display. "Hostile atmosphere, extreme temperatures, toxic compounds, electromagnetic interference from the star. This isn't a place you go because it's convenient. This is a place you go because the environment itself serves a specific purpose."
"What kind of purpose?" Sophie asked.
"Think about it," Dom continued, his voice taking on the patient tone of a teacher explaining something to particularly slow students. "What kind of activities would benefit from high electromagnetic interference, toxic atmospheric components, and extreme temperature variations?"
Noah felt pieces clicking together in his mind. "Biological research. The electromagnetic interference would hide energy signatures from genetic manipulation. The toxic atmosphere would prevent aerial reconnaissance..."
"And the temperature extremes would be perfect for testing adaptive biological systems," Lyra finished, her eyes widening as she understood.
"Exactly!" Dom clapped his hands together. "They're not just hiding there—they're using the environment as a laboratory. Which means their facilities are designed to interface with those hostile conditions."
"So how does that help us?" Diana asked.
"Because," Dom replied with obvious delight, "if the environment is part of their experimental apparatus, then they can't heavily modify it without disrupting their research. They're stuck working within the natural parameters of the planet."
He stood up and began manipulating the holographic display with surprising skill. "Which means predictable operational patterns. Atmospheric processors running on specific schedules, temperature regulation systems with defined parameters, electromagnetic shielding that operates within known frequencies."
"You want us to mimic their environmental systems," Lucas said slowly.
"I want us to become part of their environment," Dom corrected. "We don't try to avoid their sensors—we make ourselves look like natural phenomena they're already used to ignoring."
The tactical display shifted to show atmospheric current patterns, electromagnetic field variations, and thermal distribution maps. "We insert during natural weather events—dust storms, electromagnetic fluctuations, thermal inversions. Their sensors are calibrated to filter out environmental interference, so they won't distinguish us from the natural background noise."
"That's..." Kelvin paused, his analytical mind working through the implications. "Completely insane. And probably brilliant."
"What's the weakness?" Noah asked, though he was already impressed by the elegance of Dom's approach.
"If we're wrong about their environmental integration," Dom said simply, "then instead of invisible reconnaissance, we're walking straight into the middle of their defensive perimeter disguised as naturally occurring phenomena they've specifically learned to detect and counter."
"So either we're completely invisible," Sophie said slowly, "or we're announcing ourselves with a megaphone."
"That about sums it up," Dom agreed cheerfully.
The room fell silent as everyone processed the various options. Finally, Lucas spoke up.
"Uncle Dom's approach has the best risk-to-information ratio," he said, though he sounded like he couldn't quite believe the words coming out of his mouth. "If it works, we get detailed intelligence with minimal detection risk. If it doesn't work..."
"We're probably caught anyway," Noah finished pragmatically. "At least this way, we go down swinging."
"Unanimous?" Lucas asked, looking around the table.
The nods were reluctant but consistent.
"Alright then," Lucy said, standing up with decision. "Environmental camouflage reconnaissance it is. But first, we need to talk about equipment."
Lucy led them through a series of corridors Noah hadn't seen before, deeper into the palace's military sections. The walls here were functional rather than decorative—reinforced metal and ceramic composites designed to withstand attack rather than impress visitors.
"The Raiju military has been developing specialized equipment for extreme environment operations," Lucy explained as they walked. "Hostile planets, deep space construction, combat in environments that would kill unprotected humans in seconds."
They passed through multiple security checkpoints, each one requiring Lucy's biometric authorization. The guards they encountered wore the same light blue and white uniforms Noah had seen on other Raiju personnel, but their equipment was clearly more advanced—weapons that hummed with contained energy.
"The project is called Beast Gear," Lucy continued, stopping before a heavy door marked with warning symbols in multiple languages. "Named after the original inspiration—studying how Category 4 and 5 beasts survive in environments that should be impossible for biological organisms."
The door opened onto a preparation chamber that looked like a cross between a medical facility and an armory. Rows of equipment lockers lined the walls, each one containing what appeared to be a complete suit of advanced armor. Technical displays showed readouts for dozens of different systems, and the air carried the ozone scent of high-energy electronics.
"Holy shit," Kelvin breathed, moving toward the nearest suit with obvious fascination.
The Beast Gear suits were works of art disguised as military equipment. The base color was a pristine light blue that seemed to shift between shades depending on the viewing angle, accented with white components that looked like they'd been precision-crafted rather than mass-produced. The material appeared metallic but moved like fabric, suggesting some kind of advanced composite that combined the best properties of both.
"The outer shell is constructed from a beast hide, which was then complimented with a reactive titanium-ceramic weave," Lucy explained, activating a display that showed the suit's technical specifications. "It responds to environmental conditions by adjusting molecular structure—harder in response to impacts, more flexible for enhanced mobility."
She gestured to one of the suits, and it responded by shifting from its compact storage configuration to full deployment. Plates extended and locked into position, internal systems activated with soft humming sounds, and the helmet's visor displayed readouts in multiple languages.
"Environmental protection is rated for Category 7 hostile conditions," Lucy continued, her voice taking on the precise tone of someone reciting carefully memorized specifications. "That includes direct exposure to radiation levels that would be lethal to humans, atmospheric pressures ranging from hard vacuum to twenty times standard, and temperatures from minus two hundred to plus eight hundred degrees Celsius."
"Jesus," Sophie muttered, examining the suit's joint mechanisms. "How much do these things weigh?"
"Fully loaded, about forty kilograms," Lucy replied. "But the internal strength amplification systems provide a net increase in physical capability rather than encumbrance. The test pilots report feeling stronger and faster while wearing the suits, not weighed down."
Diana was studying the helmet's display systems with professional interest. "Sensor package?"
"Full spectrum analysis, thermal imaging, electromagnetic field detection, chemical composition analysis, and tactical overlay systems," Lucy rattled off. "Plus quantum-encrypted communications that can punch through most forms of interference."
"Most forms?" Noah asked.
"The electromagnetic pulses from Sigma-7's star are still problematic," Lucy admitted. "But the suits can maintain local communication and basic functionality even during solar interference events."
Kelvin had opened one of the suits and was examining the internal systems with obvious delight. "The power source is some kind of miniaturized fusion cell," he announced, his cybernetic arms interfacing with the suit's diagnostic systems. "Battery life measured in months rather than hours, and the energy output could probably run a small town."
"What about durability?" Lucas asked, running his fingers over the suit's surface.
"Field testing included direct impact from a Three-Horn Harbinger's charge," Lucy said with obvious pride. "The test pilot reported feeling the hit, but the suit's structure showed no damage—not even scratches on the surface coating."
Everyone from team 7 knew what a three horn was capable of doing. . The fact that these suits could withstand that kind of impact without damage was genuinely impressive.
"There's one more feature," Lucy added, activating another display. "Adaptive camouflage."
She touched a control, and one of the suits began to change. The light blue and white coloration shifted to match the laboratory's walls, then adjusted to mimic the floor's metallic surface. The transformation was so complete that the suit became nearly invisible except for the faint distortion around its edges.
"Environmental mimicry based on local conditions," Lucy explained. "Perfect for Uncle Dom's reconnaissance approach."
Noah was already moving toward one of the suits, drawn by the obvious quality of the construction. As he approached, sensors in the suit detected his presence and began displaying size adjustment options on nearby screens.
"Custom fitting is automated," Lucy said. "The suits analyze your physical dimensions and adjust themselves for optimal performance. The entire process takes about five minutes."
One by one, the team moved to their assigned suits. The fitting process was surprisingly pleasant—the suit seemed to flow around Noah's body rather than constraining it, adjusting temperature and pressure to maintain perfect comfort.
When everyone was suited up, they looked like a squad of high-tech soldiers from a military recruitment advertisement. The light blue and white color scheme was both distinctive and professional, and the way the suits enhanced their movements made even simple gestures look more confident and capable.
"I feel like I could punch through a wall," Kelvin said, testing his suit's strength enhancement by lifting a piece of equipment that should have required two people to move.
"You probably could," Lucy replied. "But let's not test that theory in here."