Warfighter: Operation Shatterfall

Chapter 12

Orbit of Euphoria
Exact coordinates: Unknown

Johnson never liked the idea of carrying around his heavy revolver around. In fact, he had never holstered it, loaded it or even fired it since the Thilian Skirmish, which was almost 10 years ago.

Until today.

He carefully inserted one of the pre-loaded hexagonal cylinder below the retractable top rail. With a soft clink, the rail moved downward, securing the chambers in place.

The revolver was a custom B-25 Xiphos manufactured by Northern Atlas Kinetics. Designed with a match-grade trigger, it's well accurate up to at least 150m under normal atmospheric conditions. Johnson acquired this pistol due to it's sheer kinetic energy it's bullets imparted upon impact. He remembered that he almost got banned from one of the ranges in the Southern Colonies as he completely obliterated one of the digital target plates to pieces. Let's say the range owner wasn't happy how much those individual plates costed him. The last time Johnson used this on a close encounter with a human target, he tasted blood, literally.

Of course, a typical hard-hitting revolver like the Xiphos had some drawbacks. It was heavy and kicks like a mule whenever fired.

But it didn't really bother Johnson.

Then three, urgent, consecutive knocks sounded on his cabin door.

Johnson slid his Xiphos into his leg holster, "Who is it?"

"Captain, we got some ideas that you may want to hear," Richard said.

Johnson put Richard in command for now. He had to think. Think about everything: What's the enemy going to do next. What information he should relay to Mendoza's marines. He had rehearsed everything in his head.

And most importantly, he had to think of his crew and family, and people he cared about the most.

Before he left for Euphoria, he called his daughter, who at his own request, begged her to move to the Inner Colonies. She did, fortunately, with her entire family. Akureyri was a long way from the Frontline, she would be safe. It always bothered Johnson that whenever he was on a Terminal call with her, there was always a chance her connection would get cut off due to the frequent air-raid drills. But now, he didn't have to worry about that anymore.

Johnson slipped the Xiphos into his leg holster, looked at his messy bed, one that he had not slept on in a few weeks.

I'll clean that mess later, he thought to himself.

As he opened the lock, he was greeted with ensigns and bridge crew shuffling around. With haste he proceeded to the bridge.

"Captain on deck!" Richard announced and crew snapped to attention.

Johnson stood before a holographic image of Marcus and his executive officer standing in the middle of the bridge. "At ease, everyone."

Marcus was rubbing his chin with his right palm, deep in thought, before facing Jenkins, "Johnson, I think your helmsman could be right, we may not be the only ship that's actually still in the sector."

"I got a feeling there's a 'but' somewhere along the lines," Johnson replied.

"Aha," Marcus raised his finger, "But, my rangefinders can't even get an eye on that corvette."

Richard stepped behind the hologram, circling around his spot, "It could be a Zaslon-class we're trying to find."

"He's right cap, if the corvette was well armed, it should perform hit and runs," Marcus' XO said, "Right now, al they're doing is jamming long range comms and waiting."