[TAS] Volume 2 - Chapter 74 - Unexpected Ambush

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Hello everyone, LunaWolve here!

Volume 2 - Chapter 69: Expertise has just released on RR with no changes

For the Wolf Lords, this chapter has seen no changes.

And also: Please do not read the chapters here on Patreon, but go for the googledoc, .pdf or .epub instead. Patreon butchers all forms of formatting and you're missing out on easier and more enjoyable reading experiences.

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Oh boy, more scheming and plans!

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I'm looking forward to hearing your first impressions and opinions on this chapter. \o/

I hope you will enjoy it!

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Here is the link to the chapter:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1BfaiyTz6VryJNqFPMKsveswHPu9zKEe8o-HcerFGRc8/edit?usp=sharing

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Volume 2 - Chapter 74 - Unexpected Ambush

“For most Marines, time dilation is not experienced as what it is intended for: A tool. 

It is instead often experienced as a loss, on a psychological level.

Three months of silence is not trivial to the average human mind. 

You leave conversations unfinished, routines unbroken, relationships placed on pause—only to return and find that, for everyone else, the pause never even existed. 

Your friends and colleagues speak as if you had merely been gone for lunch. Your squadmates pick up conversations from “just yesterday” as if the same amount of time had passed for you. 

The world has not moved, but you have aged inside it.

This mismatch is the core fracture point. 

Humans are inherently built to measure relationships in shared time. 

When that shared time desynchronizes, the mind searches for decay that isn’t there—and often invents it to protect its habits and routines. Marines frequently report feelings of isolation, displacement, and unreality after exiting a Skill Training, despite objective evidence that nothing in their relationship with their squadmates or friends has actually changed.

Interestingly however, a not insignificant number of individuals show almost an opposite reaction.

These Marines—often considered socially awkward by their peers or straight up flagged with attention deficit disorders by the psychological evaluations—operate on a different baseline assumption naturally: 

Relationships do not change unless acted upon. 

Time passing alone does not register as a similar loss nor an impetus for change.

For them, six months without contact feels no different than an hour. When they return, the world behaving ‘normally’ is not jarring but expected, for they have not been a part of said world, so no change could be enacted upon their relationships.

In civilian life, this trait is usually seen as a liability or a downside.
In a time-dilated military environment however, it becomes an unexpectedly big advantage.

As a result, while most Marines struggle to sustain more than three or four Skill Trainings per year without severe psychological strain, this subset can endure as many as they can afford—even back-to-back if time and credits permit—without any measurable degradation.

This phenomenon has been observed in every Drive and is closely monitored by Ship AIs and Officers alike.

Psychological support is available to all Marines—built directly into the cost of Skill Trainings themselves—ensuring there are always enough specialists on hand for those struggling with dissociation or reintegration.

Some, however, never feel the need nor are deemed as required to take that offer.”

[Excerpt from “The Quiet Gap,” a UHF internal psychology brief on the effects of time dilated Skill Trainings on Marines, PFC847]

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Thea and Kara made their way back to Alpha Squad’s dormitory, each of them peeling off to their own room to take a moment and let the Skill Training really sink in.

On the way, Thea had tried to nudge Kara into explaining her sudden, very intense outburst of murderous intent toward the Sovereign, but her best friend gave her next to nothing to work with.

‘It was just a joke—probably,’ Thea had eventually decided.

Now inside her room, Thea sat down at her workbench and started jotting down a few of the major aspects of the [Physics - Basic] Skill Training she wanted to spend some extra time on over the next few days. 

Especially those that directly or semi-directly related to the talk she’d recently had with Peria and those that dealt with the functionality of the Laser-type Gram that sat disassembled on the workbench in front of her.

She didn’t get particularly far, though. 

Around two hours after sitting down, the alarm she had set went off, reminding her of the other, extremely important appointment she had today.

“Haaaa,” she sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair and running her fingers through her hair. “It’s already been a really long day, and it’s about to get even longer, huh?”

After making sure her uniform was sitting right—and, for once, getting out and pinning on the Two-Star Crysium Medal at Corvus’ insistence—she headed for the door to meet up with the rest of the squad.

It was finally time to hear Major Quinn’s announcement on which Challenges had been issued over the past weeks as a result of the Assessment…

—

Alpha Squad made their way to the assembly hall, with Corvus nominally leading from the front, followed by Thea, Karania, Isabella, Desmond, and Lucas.

At least, that had been the order Corvus had decided on—but given the easy chatter between them, there wasn’t much structure to it. 

They mostly walked side by side.

That changed the moment they reached the hallway leading up to the hall and the noise washed over them.

A low, constant rumble filtered through the open bulkhead doors—hundreds, no, thousands of voices overlapping into an indistinct roar, boots scraping against the floor, the rustle of uniforms, bursts of laughter and sharp, nervous chatter all bleeding together into a single, oppressive sound. 

“Alright, best faces on,” Corvus said, slipping into his usual serious-but-approachable look. “Remember—we’re Alpha Squad. We have a reputation to uphold. What that reputation actually is, I have no idea. But let’s try not to disappoint the other Recruits, yeah?”

That earned a few chuckles, and Thea appreciated the way Corvus always managed to ease the tension in moments like this.

Her hands still grew clammy as she took in the sheer number of Marines, and she uselessly tried to dry them by rubbing them against her pants. At the same time, she consciously recognized that there wasn’t really anything for her to be nervous about. 

Not personally, at least.

‘It’s not like anyone can actually Challenge me. I’m safe in Alpha Squad, no matter what…’ her thoughts shifted as her gaze moved over the others, each of them straightening up, checking uniforms and posture one last time. ‘I guess I’m more worried about them.’

Especially after spending three months inside Skill Training, she’d gained a new appreciation for the squad as it was now—Desmond included.

He was still the one she liked the least, but she couldn’t deny that he was trying to make up for how he’d treated her at the start.

‘And he’s a damn good Drone Operator. That matters even more, really...’

She really had gotten lucky with this initial Alpha Squad constellation.

There were probably far more people she wouldn’t get along with than ones she would—and to only have one person like that in the squad, especially one who was genuinely trying to change and make up? 

That was probably extremely rare—not that she had any idea about these kinds of things, but it just felt that way.

‘I’ll make sure we stay together,’ Thea decided, her expression firming. ‘No matter what.’

“You good?” Kara’s voice pulled her out of her ruminations.

“Ahh, yeah. Just thinking,” Thea replied, a little startled.

“What about?”

Thea hesitated, unsure if she really wanted to say it out loud, but in the end she figured there was no harm—especially with Kara.

“Keeping Alpha Squad together.”

Kara’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “You do realize that’s not your responsibility, right? Helping everyone train and get better is one thing, but don’t turn it into your life’s mission, Thea. You can’t control other people’s actions.”

“I’m not trying to,” Thea said right away. “I just… I don’t want anyone to get replaced. I like the current squad.”

A half-pitying, half-fond smile crossed Kara’s face. “So do I. But it’s not always in our power. We’ll all do our best, help each other out, and try to keep everyone together—but the Brass are the ones who decide the outcomes of the Challenges. There’s nothing we can do about that. All we can do is prepare as well as we can and accept whatever happens.”

Thea bristled, but she had no real comeback.

Karania was right—as usual. And Thea knew it.

‘Doesn’t mean I have to like it…’

A moment later, Corvus seemed satisfied that everyone was ready. He straightened and said firmly, “Let’s go. Heads up—don’t let anyone think we don’t deserve to be here.”

With that, he led Alpha Squad the last few meters down the hall and into the large hall.

The moment they stepped into the hall, the noise began to shift.

It didn’t stop outright—but it dipped, as more and more Recruits spotted them and cut off mid-sentence. That hesitation spread, each pause prompting others to look up and search for the reason, only to spot Alpha Squad and fall quiet as well.

It moved like a ripple rolling outward from their point of entry, steadily muting the hall into hushed murmurs and restless movement as those farther away leaned and craned for a better look.

Rows upon rows of Marines were already seated, the vast majority of the Drive packed into the assembly, and heads turned toward them as Corvus led Alpha Squad inside.

They walked with their heads high, shoulders straight, Assessment medals pinned neatly to their chests—one each, the highest they had earned.

That alone was enough to make people stare in awe and envy.

They’d talked, briefly, about wearing all of their medals. But Corvus had shut that down immediately, dryly pointing out that Thea walking in with her entire chest plated in her fifteen medals would look less like confidence and more like outright provocation or mockery.

She had corrected him right away, of course.

She did not have fifteen medals. 

‘Yet…’

Still, one medal per person was more than enough.

Whispers rippled outward as they moved down the aisle.

“That’s Alpha Squad…”
“Holy shit, they all have one.”
“That’s The Wall, right? Look how fucking large he is, Emperor be damned…!”
“Yeah, that’s him. You saw the highlight reel, right? He just holds that shield like it’s nothing.”
“And that one—Isabella—fuck, that’s The Juggernaut! I fucking love her!”
“You think they’re fucking? Like any of them? Or maybe all…?”

Thea kept her eyes forward, jaw set, doing her best not to react—but her Perception betrayed her anyway. The murmurs bled through, overlapping, stacking on top of each other until it was almost overwhelming.

She could have locked it all out—if she had really tried.

But a big part of her didn’t want to. She wanted to know what others thought about them.

“Karania too… People call her the Blood Witch, yeah?”
“Yeah. Medic my ass—did you see what she did in the Assessment? Never seen a “Medic” do any of that shit.”
“Exactly. Scares the hell out of me, man. Thank the Emperor she’s on our side, huh?”

And then, Thea finally caught parts of the whispers she had been looking for—

“That’s her! That’s Thea, right? The crazy sniper?”
“Yeah, that’s her, alright. The Cyan of Alpha Squad… Girl’s a fucking menace, no matter how you look at it.”
“Right. The one from the Awards Ceremony, how would anyone forget that?”
“That was still the craziest shit ever, man. The way she just dared everyone to Challenge her? That was peak. Pure peak, man. I swear.”
“She didn’t miss any shots in the Assessment, did you hear about that? Like—not once.”
“I swear I never saw her get hit either! She’s actually unkillable!”

Thea swallowed.

She tried—really tried—to convince herself to tune out the parts about herself, but it was impossible. The instinct to know what people thought about her was too deeply ingrained from her MMM days. 

On the Galactic Net, your reputation had been everything.

Ego-searching hadn’t just been a pastime back then—it had practically been part of the job. 

Correcting bad assumptions about her builds, calling out people who hadn’t even tried to follow her guides properly, tracking what narratives were forming and where… it had taken a chunk of every day. Letting go of that habit wasn’t easy—not that she truly wanted to, if she was being entirely honest with herself.

If someone wanted to fight her, she’d gladly take the Challenge head-on.

But to do that, she needed to hear them coming.

Still… This time, there was something different about the murmurs, compared to when they had all walked into the Awards Ceremony together.

The whispers weren’t sharp with the same resentment she had experienced back then. 

They carried something else instead… A kind of apprehension and wariness. 

A low, uneasy respect that sat extremely close to outright fear.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever getting that spot in Alpha…”
“I remember the highlights from the Ceremony, dude. That… That just wasn’t normal. You can’t tell me she’s supposed to be the same Tier as us, come on…!”
“You think the parts of the AI that handle the Stellar Republic troops absolutely hate her? I know I would if I lost as many of my toys to one, singular enemy...”
“Did you see how many medals she walked away with? At least she only brought one today. I would’ve fucking cried if she brought all of them, man. I didn’t even get close to earning one...”
“…I don’t ever want to be matched against her.”
“Same. Absolutely not. I’d take my chances with the Juggernaut instead, honestly. At least I might be able to hide from her, if nothing else.”

The words followed her as Alpha Squad moved deeper into the hall, and Thea felt her spine straighten just a little as more and more, similar rumours kept reaching her ears.

Fear, at least, was honest. That, she could live with.

Better to be feared for real reasons than hated for nothing.

Alpha Squad had almost reached their assigned section when Corvus suddenly stopped, and the murmurs around them fell into complete silence.

“Corvus,” a heavy-set voice greeted the leader of Alpha Squad.

Thea leaned slightly to the left to look past Corvus, only to have to tilt her head up as the massive frame of a fellow Recruit—one they all knew well from the Awards Ceremony—loomed in front of them.

“Tiberius,” Corvus replied with a calm nod.

“I apologize for springing this on your squad like this,” Tiberius said, his tone measured and seemingly sincere, “but I do need to speak with your sniper before this whole thing starts.”

Thea blinked, taken aback. 

Of all people, he wanted to talk to her?

“Apologize my ass,” Kara muttered quietly behind her, catching Thea off guard. She leaned in close, her voice right by Thea’s ear. “He planned this. Cornered you on purpose. I’m betting he wants that Challenge from you, especially with the timing and how he’s doing this.”

Thea’s thoughts started to tumble.

Tiberius looked genuinely apologetic—but Kara clearly saw something very different in the situation.

Thea felt a flicker of confusion at the disconnect between Tiberius’ calm, apologetic tone and Kara’s sharp warning—but she didn’t hesitate for even a second in who she believed. 

If Kara thought this was a setup, then it probably was. That was just how it worked. 

‘Trust Kara first, sort out the details later…!’

Corvus stepped aside with little hesitation. “I won’t stand in the way of important business,” he said evenly.

Tiberius moved closer, and Thea had to lean back slightly just to keep eye contact. 

He was about as tall as Lucas, but leaner, all sharp lines and coiled muscle. 

“Again, my apologies for cornering you like this,” he said. “I tried to find you earlier today, but circumstances didn’t allow it. This was… the only option left.”

She nodded stiffly, already feeling the weight of hundreds of eyes on her.

“I wanted to ask,” Tiberius continued, “has anyone taken you up on your offer yet? Your Challenge.”

“No,” Thea replied.

The murmurs started instantly, rolling through the hall like a spark through dry grass.

“Seriously…?”
“Is he going to—?”
“No way he actually tries it…”
“Who the fuck even is that guy?!”

Tiberius inclined his head slightly. “Then I would like to. I formally request that you Challenge me—just as you proclaimed you would during the Awards Ceremony. I intend to take your spot.”

Her breath caught for half a second.

“Take your spot.”

For a moment, the weight of the hall pressed down on her: Too many eyes with too much attention on her.

Then the familiar fire hit.

It spread through her chest and into her limbs and the anxiety burned away almost instantly. 

A predatory grin pulled at her lips before she could stop it, and a few nearby murmurs spiked at the sight.

She didn’t hear them.

Her focus was fully on him.

“I’d never take back what I say then,” Thea replied firmly. “The Challenge is yours. I’ll inform Major Quinn.”

Tiberius bowed lightly at that, genuine respect in the motion. 

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

That… took a bit of the edge off. Not much—but enough to register.

‘Huh?’

Then he turned and walked away, just like that, leaving Alpha Squad behind.

The hall exploded back into noise.

Speculation, excitement, wagers already being whispered—who would win, how fast it would be over, what they would be doing.

Corvus didn’t let them linger.

He gestured sharply, guiding them the last stretch to their seats. 

He had everyone sit—everyone but Thea—then quietly led her along the side and around the podium.

“That was planned,” he said under his breath. “Be careful with this one. Tiberius is very, very smart… That makes him dangerous.”

Thea didn’t look away from the podium to her left as she answered. “That’s fine. I’m ready for anyone. Smart or not.”

Corvus scoffed softly, a hint of a chuckle slipping through. “Of course you are.”

Corvus didn’t waste any more time. 

He guided her to a narrow side door along the wall and slipped through it, motioning for her to follow. The noise of the assembly dulled almost immediately as the door closed behind them, replaced by a muted echo as they moved through a short corridor that ran behind the podium.

They came out just a few meters from Major Quinn.

She was already there, hands clasped behind her back, posture perfectly straight. 

When she turned, one eyebrow rose in clear expectation as her eyes settled on Thea—like she’d been waiting for this exact moment.

Thea felt a flash of awkwardness crawl up her spine at the clear implication that this was, somehow, her fault. 

She swallowed, then forced herself to breathe. 

She had known this might happen the moment she’d opened her mouth during the Awards Ceremony—or at least once she had realized what she had said on that stage in the heat of the moment, after the fact. 

Running from it now wasn’t an option.

So she stepped forward.

“Major Quinn,” she said clearly, squaring her shoulders. “I wish to Challenge Tiberius Soren.”

For a long second, Major Quinn said nothing.

Her gaze bored into Thea and she did her absolute best not to flinch as she looked back up at the taller woman, jaw set and spine straight. The silence stretched just long enough to make her heartbeat feel uncomfortably loud.

Then Major Quinn sighed.

“Sure,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “I figured you’d give me a headache right before the announcement anyway. Consider it done.”

Thea blinked.

That was it?

Before she could even process it properly, Major Quinn fixed her with a pointed look. 

“Anything else?”

“N—No, Ma’am!” Thea blurted out, bowing quickly—once, twice, then a few more times for good measure. “Thank you very much!”

Behind her, Corvus let out a quiet chuckle and gestured for her to move. 

She turned and followed him back toward the door, her head still spinning slightly as they reentered the hall and made their way back to Alpha Squad’s seats.

Just like that.

The Challenge had been accepted and Lucas was no longer the only person that needed to prepare for whatever gauntlet the UHF had planned for the Challenges...

—

—

POV: Tiberius Soren

Things had gone exactly to plan—surprisingly enough.

‘I did spend quite a few hours making sure this would all work out, but… I really didn’t expect it to go this smoothly anyway,’ Tiberius thought, a silent chuckle running through his mind.

Around him, the rest of his squad—and several nearby Recruits—were staring at him like he’d grown an extra head, murmurs and rumors spreading fast. 

None of that mattered to him.

He had spent the last few weeks carefully working his way through the other Recruits. 

Listening. Befriending. And, more times than he liked to admit, fighting his way into the exact information he needed to reach this point.

‘Never would’ve guessed there were this many idiots willing to stake their careers on their ludicrous hatred of a Cyan… Pathetic,’ he thought, a faint frown forming.

There had been a lot of bruised egos after McKay’s proclamation at the Awards Ceremony—far too many for her to Challenge them all. 

After all, there was only one slot for it.

At first, most of them had wanted to rush her and demand the Challenge outright. But once it became clear that plenty of others wanted the same thing—and yet none of them were actually willing to step up and do so right away—everything had shifted.

Fear, apprehension and blind envy had been the determining factors.

Those same things had kept them frozen long enough for Tiberius to slip in among them. 

To guide things. And then, one by one, to fight them for the right to stand here.

In the end, they’d all agreed on one thing: The “Cyan” needed to stop embarrassing Alpha Squad—no matter which of them did it.

So they’d left it to the one with the best odds.

That had been Tiberius.

Not that he had any illusions about how this would go.

‘It would be pure madness to think I actually stand a real chance against Thea McKay in her chosen role…’ he admitted to himself. ‘The highlights alone made that much painfully clear.’

But that didn’t mean the Challenge itself didn’t hold a lot of value for him.

For one, the experience of facing what might be the best Recruit the UHF had ever produced would be downright invaluable—especially one in a similar role as himself. 

It was something most of the other Recruits had clearly failed to comprehend at a fundamental level.

This wasn’t about winning the Challenge at all. 

It was about seeing, first-hand, what Thea McKay was really capable of. 

How she thought. How she moved. How she did the things he had seen in the highlights.

‘Morons. Every last one of them… Absolute morons.’

The second reason was simpler: There was no real downside.

He could only issue one Challenge—but the rules said nothing about being Challenged in return. He had already submitted his own official Challenge to Major Quinn the same day the UHF 101 had finished. 

Getting McKay to Challenge him as well meant free experience, free training, and an extremely slim—but never-zero—chance of taking her spot.

And once the Challenge failed, the groundwork would be set anyway.

He had no intention of joining Alpha Squad before the second Assessment. 

He had made that decision weeks ago.

‘Earning the respect of the people who will still be there when that time comes, though… That’s worth starting on now.’

Thea McKay. Karania Faulkner. Isabella Itoku.

The three pillars of Alpha Squad. Untouchable monsters, all three of them. The first two especially—but even Itoku was impossible to deal with for anyone in the Drive.

Well… almost anyone.

‘If Masters wasn’t so obsessed with Callahan, she could probably beat Itoku this cycle,’ he thought. ‘By the second one, though? If Itoku keeps adapting like she has been, not even Masters will stand a chance. But Major Legacies aren’t exactly known for letting go of their pride...’

In the end, none of that mattered right now.

The groundwork was set.

McKay’s Challenge would earn him her respect, and the inevitable reveal that he had kept many of the more vocal Cyan-haters from harassing her for this entire first cycle would earn him points with both McKay and Faulkner. Likely with the rest of Alpha Squad as well—especially Itoku—assuming they were all still part of the squad by then.

All he had to do now was keep playing the long game.

If he did, Alpha Squad would open its doors to him eventually—right when everything else fell neatly into place as well…

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