As the Xorathian warlord cut the communication feed, the tension on the bridge of the Constellation only thickened. The crew knew what was coming. They had just declared war on one of the most powerful species in the galaxy. But instead of fear, there was a sense of grim determination that settled over the room.
Williams turned to Erikson. “You know the plan. Are the teams ready?”
Erikson nodded. “Yes, Captain. We’ve modified the escape pods to carry explosive payloads. They’re cloaked and set to launch at your command.”
Williams gave a satisfied nod. Humanity wasn’t going to win this fight by brute force. The Xorathians were too powerful for that. But the key to victory wasn’t in overpowering them—it was in outsmarting them. The pods they had modified weren’t meant for evacuation. They were a Trojan Horse, designed to slip past the Xorathians’ defenses and strike at critical systems from the inside.
“Good. We only get one shot at this,” Williams said. “And if it doesn’t work, we won’t be getting another.”
Erikson grinned. “Don’t worry, Captain. This’ll work. You’ve outsmarted worse odds before.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Care to remind me when?”
“That time on Mars,” he replied with a chuckle. “You outmaneuvered the U-D-N fleet with a mining freighter.”
Williams smiled at the memory. “True. Let’s hope this works just as well.”
Erikson returned to his station, his focus sharp now. The tension from earlier had dissipated, replaced by the adrenaline of the impending fight. He was good at his job—one of the best tactical officers in the fleet—and this was the kind of challenge he thrived on. Outgunned, outnumbered, and relying on human ingenuity to pull through. It was the kind of scenario that defined their species.
The atmosphere on the bridge of the Constellation shifted from tense anticipation to focused urgency. Everyone knew their roles. The Xorathians were powerful, but humans had something even more dangerous than brute strength: strategy born from survival.
“Escape pods armed and cloaked,” Erikson reported, his fingers dancing across the control panel. “We’re in range.”
Captain Williams stood at the center of the bridge, her arms behind her back. “Good. Let’s see how well they handle a little pressure.” Her voice was calm, but it carried the weight of command. The Xorathians had the upper hand, but Williams knew that even the most impenetrable armor had cracks. They just needed to find one.
The Xorathians had expected humanity to be like every other species they had encountered: easily cowed by overwhelming force. But the modified escape pods, now equipped with explosive payloads, were a perfect example of how humans fought best—by turning weakness into strength.
“Captain,” Erikson said, “we’ve got the pods locked onto their critical systems. Just waiting for your word.”
Williams leaned forward over the central console, scrutinizing the tactical display with laser-like focus. Her movement drew Erikson’s gaze, momentarily distracting him again. He couldn’t help it. There it was again—something about her presence always made him feel that same strange mix of admiration and distraction. She had that particular quality, one he hadn’t fully understood until recently. But now, in the heat of battle, he couldn’t help but notice it again.
Those titties, everytime she leaned over. Fuck, he was getting too hard. This is not the time for that.
Erikson tried to shake the thought away, but the more he noticed it, the harder it was to ignore. He could almost sense the weight of them titties, the slight strain her posture took when she leaned over the console. But he immediately cursed himself for letting his mind wander at such a critical moment. Now is not the time, man. Focus.
Williams, oblivious to his distraction, made her decision. “Fire the pods.”
Erikson snapped back to attention, his focus entirely on the task at hand. His fingers flew over the controls, and with a swift motion, the pods launched from the Constellation, streaking toward the Xorathian warship in perfect formation. Cloaked and invisible to their sensors, the pods moved swiftly through the darkness of space, their explosive payloads primed to target key systems on the enemy vessel.
“Pods away,” Erikson confirmed, the tension in his voice now replaced by cold determination.
Williams watched the screen intently, her eyes following the path of the pods as they closed in on their targets. If this worked, it would level the playing field. If it didn’t, they were likely out of options. The seconds stretched into an eternity as they waited for the pods to make contact.
And then, the Xorathian ship erupted in a series of brilliant flashes.
“Yes!” Erikson shouted, unable to suppress his excitement. “Direct hits on their propulsion and weapons systems. They’re crippled.”
The crew erupted in cheers, but Williams remained composed, her expression barely changing. “Don’t celebrate yet. We’ve still got a war to win.”
The Xorathians, for all their power and might, hadn’t anticipated this kind of attack. The explosions had knocked out their key systems, leaving their warship adrift and vulnerable. For the first time in the history of their conquests, they had been outmaneuvered by a weaker opponent.
With the Xorathian ship crippled and the immediate threat neutralized, the tension on the bridge slowly began to dissipate. For the first time in hours, the crew allowed themselves a moment to breathe. The relief was palpable, but there was still work to be done.
Captain Williams glanced at Erikson, who was grinning with the satisfaction of a mission well executed. “Not bad, Commander,” she said with a hint of a smile. “But don’t let it get to your head.”
Erikson chuckled. “I won’t, Captain. But you have to admit, that was one hell of a shot.”
She gave him a nod, then straightened up, ready to give the next set of orders. But as she moved, something unexpected happened. The clasp of her utility vest, which had been strained by the weight of her chest during the tense moments of battle, suddenly gave way with a soft snap. Erikson noticed it immediately, though he tried his best to remain professional.
Williams, unfazed, adjusted the vest and continued giving orders to her crew, but Erikson couldn’t help but notice the faint strain that had caused the malfunction. It was a strange confirmation of what he had always suspected about her titties. For all her strength and resilience, Captain Williams wasn’t invincible—and neither was her vest’s button.