They met Jax outside the sim deck with armor already sitting heavy on their shoulders.

  The hatch looked like any other on the marine deck, except for the yellow hazard band painted across it and the stenciled text:

  SIMULATION ENVIRONMENT – 3RD SHOCK

  Theta-3 formed up without being told. Jax checked the time, then them.

  “Good,” she said. “Let’s get this done.”

  She palmed the hatch and stepped through.

  The sim deck was larger than Kaden expected. Open space in the middle with grid lines on the deck. Movable cover, doorframes, and bulkhead sections stacked off to one side. A raised control gallery ran along the far wall, techs at consoles, cables feeding into floor ports.

  On the far side, someone had built out a mock corridor: narrow, with a few door cutouts and bare plates.

  Kaden’s HUD updated as they crossed the threshold.

  ZONE: SIM DECK – LAYOUT A

  “Staff Sergeant,” a tech called from above. “Theta-3?”

  “That’s us,” Jax said. “Basic boarding corridor. Light Opposition. No clever scripting.”

  The tech’s hands moved over his console.

  “You want standard dampening on pain?” he asked. “Forty percent feed, auto-cut at overload. Captain’s default.”

  “Full,” Jax said.

  He glanced down at them, then back at her.

  “Full feed?” he said. “They’re new, Staff.”

  “They’re going to stop being new very fast,” she said. “Full feed. Keep the safety where regs say.”

  He nodded and returned to the board.

  “Copy,” he said. “Pain feed full. Safety at neural-threshold. Environment A loaded.”

  Navarro shifted her weight beside Kaden.

  “This is going to be fun,” she murmured.

  Jax heard. Her tone stayed level.

  “You’ll hate it,” she said. “That’s the point. Better here than when the hull’s really trying to kill you.”

  She dropped off the grid edge and stopped beside the mock corridor. A start hatch frame waited there, outlined on the deck.

  “Stack here,” she said. “Same order as earlier. Tanaka, Navarro, Mercer, Vos.”

  They moved into place. The armor made every adjustment feel deliberate.

  “Quick brief,” Jax said. “Physically, you’re in this room. Aurora lays a hostile corridor over it. When you get hit, the armor stays intact, but your nerves get a sample of what it would feel like if it didn’t.”

  She nodded toward the control booth.

  “Sim stops when you complete the objective or all of you go down,” she said. “You’ll be tired. You might feel sick. That’s normal.”

  Kaden’s SMG felt smaller in his hands than it had in the armory.

  “Objective’s simple,” Jax went on. “Secure a junction two doors down, hold it for thirty seconds, then fall back here. No chasing kills, no solo runs. Tanaka holds space. Navarro kills targets. Vos manages doors. Mercer, you keep people stable when the System tells you they’re not.”

  She lifted her head slightly.

  “Sim control, link Theta-3,” she said. “On my mark.”

  Kaden’s HUD pinged.

  SIMULATION NODE REQUESTING LINK: "VALIANT / 3RD SHOCK / DECK A – TRAINING"

  ACCEPT? [Y/N]

  He accepted.

  SIM STATUS: STANDBY

  Navarro, Tanaka, and Vos all grew sharper in his peripheral awareness, little tethers of presence.

  “One more thing,” Jax said. “When someone gets hit, you say who, where, and how bad before you move. I can’t help you make a good call if I don’t know what’s happening. Clear?”

  “Clear,” Tanaka said.

  “Clear,” Navarro echoed.

  “Clear,” Kaden said.

  “Control,” Jax said. “Start. Theta-3, breach on go.”

  The world blinked.

  Bare marine metal became darker, ribbed plating. The deck under his boots felt the same, but the walls were wrong—Opp architecture, all sharp angles and blue-grey metal. The lighting dropped to a cold, washed-out white. The background hum deepened.

  ENVIRONMENT: OPP FRIGATE – APPROXIMATE

  OBJECTIVE: SECURE JUNCTION C-1 / HOLD 00:30 / EXFIL TO ENTRY

  SIM STATUS: LIVE

  “Check in,” Jax’s voice came over comms, closer now. “Tanaka?”

  “Stacked,” Tanaka said. Shotgun up, muzzle low.

  “Navarro.”

  “Stacked.”

  “Mercer.”

  “Stacked.”

  “Vos.”

  “Stacked.”

  “Breach,” Jax said. “Go.”

  The entry hatch irised open in front of Tanaka. He moved through. Navarro followed, then Kaden, then Vos.

  The corridor was narrow, edges sharp, surfaces a muted blue-grey that seemed to absorb sound.

  CONTACT PROBABILITY: LOW – FIRST SEGMENT

  “Vos,” Jax said. “First door on your left is background. Leave it.”

  “Copy,” Vos said.

  Kaden kept his eyes on his slice of space, SMG steady. His heartbeat ticked up, audible in his own ears.

  They reached the first junction. The passage ended in a T, with a hatch frame on the right just before it.

  “Junction,” Tanaka said. “Nothing moving.”

  “Vos, lock that right-side hatch,” Jax said. “Navarro, cover far end. Mercer, watch left and whatever comes around Tanaka’s shoulders.”

  Vos broke formation just enough to tap a panel that appeared under his hand. The hatch outline in Kaden’s HUD flashed red briefly, then dimmed.

  HATCH: SECURED (SIM)

  Navarro dropped to a knee at the corner, rifle aimed down the T. Tanaka held center, shotgun covering the same arc. Kaden set his shoulder to the wall a step back and left, SMG angled to catch anything slipping close.

  Opp shapes appeared at the far end of the T.

  Tall. Digitigrade legs. Angular armor that hinted at an avian frame without a beak, helmet sensors flaring briefly as they picked up human signatures. Three of them.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Opp,” Navarro said. “Three, far.”

  “Engage,” Jax said.

  Navarro’s rifle cracked. One Opp dropped. Tanaka fired a half-second later, shotgun booming in the confined space. A second Opp folded. The third jerked, recovered, and fired back.

  The return shot hit Tanaka full in the chest.

  The impact sounded like a hammer on a metal drum. His armor flared with sim-light.

  LCPL. TANAKA – STATUS: WOUNDED

  A second later, Kaden’s nerves echoed the hit: a blunt, crushing pain under his own ribs. His breath hitched.

  Tanaka grunted but stayed on his feet.

  “Tanaka wounded, front,” he said. “Armor held most of it.”

  “Stay in place,” Jax said. “You’re still good.”

  Navarro’s next burst caught the third Opp and dropped it. The corridor went quiet.

  Kaden made himself unclench his jaw.

  “Forward,” Jax said. “Next junction is your hold.”

  They moved. Tanaka’s pace stayed steady. The phantom pain in Kaden’s chest faded, leaving a memory.

  The next junction opened into a slightly wider cross-corridor with low bulkheads on either side.

  OBJECTIVE ZONE: C-1

  “Tanaka, center,” Jax said. “Navarro right, Mercer left. Vos takes rear. Timer starts when you’re all in.”

  They slid into position. Kaden hugged the left bulkhead, shoulder to metal, SMG ready.

  ZONE SECURE – HOLD TIMER: 00:30

  The timer started.

  Opp fire came in about ten seconds later.

  Figures moved at both ends of the cross-corridor. Shots lit the air. Impacts rang off bulkhead and deck.

  Tanaka shifted to cover one side, shotgun booming at anything that tried to push forward. Navarro’s rifle barked in tight, controlled bursts, knocking targets back when they appeared. Kaden fired short strings whenever a silhouette showed enough profile to hit.

  Rounds sparked off the wall near his head. One hit the deck by his foot. The next took him in the leg.

  Pain lanced up his calf, bright and sharp.

  PVT. MERCER – STATUS: WOUNDED (MINOR)

  His knee threatened to give. He caught himself on the bulkhead.

  “Mercer wounded, left,” he managed. “Leg.”

  “You’re standing and you can talk,” Jax said. “Hold it. Twenty seconds.”

  He forced his knee to lock and kept firing.

  The timer ticked down. Opp bodies piled up, sim markers flaring and fading. Tanaka’s armor flashed a few more warning hits, but he stayed up. Navarro grunted once as a shot grazed her armor, then steadied.

  “Hold complete,” Jax said. “Pull back same route. Vos, watch hatches. Expect a reaction.”

  They started to fall back.

  Tanaka walked backward, shotgun up, covering the direction they’d come from. Navarro moved past him, then Kaden, then Vos. Every step pulled at the phantom injury in Kaden’s calf, but he could move on it.

  Halfway back, the sim reminded them the ship wasn’t empty.

  Two Opp stepped out of a side hatch Kaden hadn’t marked as a threat.

  One second there was bare wall; the next, a hatch irised open and armored figures were there, weapons ready. Navarro was in the worst place for it—mid-stride, rifle a fraction off-line.

  Shots cracked. A round punched into her right breast plate.

  She went down hard, spinning and hitting the deck.

  The sound she made was brief and ugly.

  PVT. NAVARRO – STATUS: CRITICAL

  Kaden’s gut clenched. He snapped his SMG toward the new contacts, shots going wide and chewing up bulkhead instead of hitting clean. His body started to move toward Navarro on instinct, and he stepped across Tanaka’s line.

  “Navarro down! Right side, mid—” he blurted.

  “Mercer, clear his lane,” Jax said quickly. Not shouting, but firm. “Then finish the call.”

  He jerked sideways, shoulder hammering the opposite wall. In that moment of disruption, one of the Opp got a clean angle on Tanaka.

  The shot hit him high in the chest.

  LCPL. TANAKA – STATUS: CRITICAL

  Pain stabbed through the sim link again, hotter and deeper. Kaden’s own chest lit up with it, vision tunneling at the edges for a beat.

  “Vos, take them,” Jax said.

  Vos stepped into his role without commentary. His SMG spoke in short, controlled bursts. Both Opp went down under precise fire.

  “Mercer,” Jax said. “Triage. Who’s worse off?”

  Kaden forced his brain to work. Navarro lay on her back, hand clamped over her chest, armor throwing red alarms. Tanaka was on one knee, shotgun still up, breathing hard but oriented.

  PVT. NAVARRO – CRITICAL / NON-AMBULATORY

  LCPL. TANAKA – CRITICAL / FUNCTIONAL (LIMITED)

  “Navarro critical and can’t move,” Kaden said. “Tanaka critical but still able to fight.”

  “And your corridor?” Jax asked.

  He scanned the angles. No new contacts yet, just scorch marks and virtual bodies.

  “Clear for the moment,” he said.

  “Then you work Navarro first,” Jax said. “Short window. Tanaka holds. Vos covers. If it changes, you break contact. Go.”

  This time, Kaden chose his route instead of lunging. He slid along the wall and dropped in beside Navarro, keeping out of Tanaka’s line of fire. His back pressed to metal, SMG sling snug across his chest.

  Her chest glowed with damage markers.

  INJURY: SIMULATED – FRACTURED CLAVICLE

  “Navarro,” he said. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m here,” she said through her teeth. “Arm’s useless. Everything feels awful.”

  “Don’t fight it. Just breathe.”

  He slapped a sealant pack onto the highlighted plate. His HUD confirmed contact.

  TREATMENT: EMERGENCY SEAL APPLIED

  STATUS: STABILIZED – EVAC RECOMMENDED

  Her breathing eased slightly. Some of the sim-pain dulled.

  “Choice,” Jax said. “How do you get everyone home?”

  “Tanaka moves on his own,” Kaden said. “We support Navarro. He can walk and shoot. She can’t.”

  “Good call,” Jax said. “Do it.”

  They moved. Tanaka pushed himself upright with effort. Kaden got under Navarro’s harness, Vos taking part of her weight on the other side. It was clumsy and slow, but they moved, muzzles still pointed downrange as best they could manage.

  The entry hatch resolved ahead of them. They crossed its boundary.

  The Opp corridor vanished. Valiant’s sim deck snapped back in, grid lines and steel. The pain dropped away quickly, leaving ghosts of it behind his ribs and in his leg.

  SIM STATUS: COMPLETE

  RESULT: OBJECTIVE ACHIEVED / CASUALTY SCORE: HIGH

  Kaden popped his helmet seals and pulled it off. The air felt cool against his face. Sweat stung his eyes.

  Navarro slumped back against the wall, helmet resting on her knees. Tanaka rolled his shoulders once, checking for tension that wasn’t really there. Vos let his SMG hang and drew a slow breath.

  Jax walked over, expression neutral but not cold.

  “All right,” she said. “You hit the objective and you got out together. That’s the good part. Now we fix the rest.”

  She nodded toward Tanaka.

  “You took the first hit, called it clean, and stayed in position,” she said. “That’s exactly what I need from point. Second hit came when your lane got crossed. We’ll iron that out.”

  She turned to Kaden.

  “When someone you know drops in front of you, your first instinct is going to be what you just did,” she said. “Move. That’s human. But in a corridor, if you step in front of the guns before you talk, you make everyone else’s job harder.”

  Kaden met her eyes.

  “I stepped into his line,” he said. “I should’ve finished the call before I moved.”

  “Who, where, how bad,” Jax said. “You did get that out, just not fast enough. The triage call afterward was solid. You picked the right priority. Now we work on timing.”

  It stung, but it landed cleaner this time. Less like a slap, more like something to fix.

  She shifted her attention to Navarro.

  “Your first contact was good,” Jax said. “Bursts were controlled, targets went down. You didn’t track that side hatch. That’s why it bit you. Opp ships have more doors than feel fair. Start assuming any blank patch of wall can open.”

  Navarro grimaced, wiped her forehead with her sleeve.

  “Understood,” she said. “I’ll keep them in mind next run.”

  “Good,” Jax said.

  She looked at Vos.

  “You locked what I asked you to lock,” she said. “You cleaned up the flank when things went wrong. That kept this from becoming a full wipe. That’s what I expect from a tech.”

  Vos nodded once.

  “I should’ve used the drone,” he said. “I’ll put it out on the next one.”

  “Do that,” Jax said. “Here, you can afford to experiment. Out there, it’ll be gone before you want it to be.”

  She let them breathe a few seconds.

  “Aurora’s logged the run,” she said. “You held, you exfil’d, and you got a very clear introduction to full pain feed. For a first sim together, that’s acceptable. We’re going to make it better.”

  Kaden’s HUD chimed.

  SIM REPORT – PERSONAL: MERCER, K.

  ACCURACY: 47%

  REACTION TIME TO FIRST CONTACT: 0.9 SEC

  TIME TO FIRST CASUALTY CALL: 3.4 SEC (DELAYED)

  FIELD TRIAGE DECISIONS: ADEQUATE

  He looked at the time to first casualty call, jaw tightening.

  Up in the booth, a tech leaned on his console.

  “Environment resetting,” he called down. “You taking them again today, Staff?”

  “Yes,” Jax said. “Next run’s a secure-and-extract. Simulated captured marine on an Opp hull. Same pain settings.”

  The tech gave a low whistle but nodded, turning back to his board.

  Jax faced Theta-3 again.

  “Fifteen minutes,” she said. “Water. Walk it off. Keep the armor on; your bodies need to get used to the weight. Next scenario, you’re going in to find one of our own and bring them back out in one piece.”

  Her gaze went to each of them in turn.

  “You did more right than wrong for a first run,” she said. “Remember that. Then forget it and focus on fixing the problems.”

  A corner of Navarro’s mouth twitched.

  “Yes, Staff Sergeant,” she said.

  Jax gave a brief nod and stepped aside, bringing up something in her HUD.

  Navarro let her helmet rest against her knees.

  “That was rough,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah,” Vos said. “Sort of the point.”

  Tanaka checked a strap at his shoulder, then let it go.

  “You moved better at the end than at the start,” he said. “That’s what matters.”

  Kaden sank down beside Navarro, back to the bulkhead. His leg still held a ghost of the sim pain.

  He opened the report again.

  TIME TO FIRST CASUALTY CALL: 3.4 SEC (DELAYED)

  Call first. Then move.

  He closed the display, took a long drink, and rolled his shoulders, feeling the harness pull.

  Fifteen minutes. Then they were going back in. This time with someone to find and carry out, not just a timer to satisfy.