Chapter 5: Corporal Sarai “Echo” Hernandez

 Chapter 5: Corporal Sarai 

“Echo” Hernandez

Chapter 5: Corporal Sarai “Echo” Hernandez

Sarai sat strapped into her seat, fingers drumming lightly against her harness. The mission clock ticked down, each second a steady drumbeat in her ears. She inhaled deeply, running through the final pre-flight checklist in her mind, double-checking every procedure. No mistakes. No hesitation. The mission clock ticked down in front of her, every second bringing them closer to liftoff. She had been through hundreds of drills, trained for every possible failure scenario, but this was the real thing. No resets. No do-overs.

The steady hum of the ship’s systems vibrated through the cabin, the quiet before the storm. Around her, the rest of the team was making their own final preparations. Gabe was muttering to himself as he ran yet another systems check, while Aurora double-checked the biological cargo logs. Noah, ever the steady presence, sat relaxed, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest as if counting down the seconds himself. Adrienne, calm as always, ran her final command review, her sharp eyes sweeping over the team as if memorizing each of them before they left Earth behind.

"Hernandez, status?"

Adrienne’s voice broke through the low murmur of the cabin, calm and authoritative. Sarai straightened slightly, fingers running over her straps one last time.

"Green across the board, Captain."

"Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want you passing out on us, Echo," Noah added with a smirk.

Sarai rolled her eyes, smirking despite herself. "Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, Gunny."

"Maybe next time," Gabe muttered, his voice half-distracted as he scanned his console. "If we make it back in one piece."

The banter settled as the mission clock hit T-minus five minutes. The weight of the moment settled over the crew, silent but understood. They all knew what was at stake. They had trained together, fought through simulations, pushed their bodies and minds to the limits for this exact moment.

Sarai flexed her fingers, exhaling a slow breath. She focused on the rhythm of her own heartbeat, the steady in-and-out of her breathing. She could already feel the weight of the upcoming launch pressing on her chest, the anticipation coiling in her stomach like a live wire. But that wasn’t the only weight she carried.

A part of her wanted to reach down, place a protective hand over her stomach, but she resisted. No one knew. No one could know. Not yet.

And that wasn’t the only secret she carried.

Her gaze flicked to the overhead readouts, where propulsion and power systems flashed their stable, reassuring green. To the rest of the crew, it was just another launch sequence, a familiar rhythm of pre-flight procedures. But Sarai knew better.

Because this wasn’t just another mission. This ship wasn’t just another spacecraft.

The experimental warp drive hidden beneath layers of classified engineering reports, buried within the ship’s systems, was the reason they could even attempt this mission in days instead of months. And she was one of the only people onboard who knew about it.

She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to keep her expression neutral. The classified nature of the drive meant she couldn’t tell the others what was happening beneath their feet. They had been briefed on standard propulsion. They had been told this was a long-range mission, cutting-edge but within known science. They hadn’t been told that the ship was bending the very fabric of space to get them there.

    But what was she supposed to do? Tell them the truth? That their ship was rewriting the laws of physics mid-flight? That the pressure anomalies weren’t random—they were a side effect of an experimental drive manipulating space-time in ways even the brightest minds hadn’t fully mapped out? Unpredictable, unstable, and potentially catastrophic if they lost control.

No. That wasn’t an option.

"T-minus two minutes," the automated countdown echoed through the cabin.

She stole a quick glance at Noah, who gave her a steady nod. Gabe was staring at his screens, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. Aurora was gripping her harness, her knuckles white. Adrienne, hands steady on her controls, looked every bit the leader she was trained to be.

Sarai turned her gaze forward, locking onto the mission clock as the final seconds began to tick away.

She could keep the secret. She had to. For the mission. For the crew.

For all of them.

"All right," Adrienne announced. "This is it. Brace yourselves."

The moment was here.

The engines roared to life, and everything turned to fire and thunder. The force slammed her back into her seat, pressing against her chest like an unrelenting weight. Her breath hitched, her fingers gripping the harness straps with white-knuckled force. For a split second, fear and exhilaration collided in her veins, an electric pulse that surged through her as they tore free from the Earth.

The world outside blurred into streaks of flame, the sky darkening as they pierced through the atmosphere. The cabin rattled, vibrations surging through the metal walls as pressure and gravity waged war on her body. It felt like forever, the relentless force holding her in place, her muscles straining just to stay conscious.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the roar softened. The pressure eased. Silence crept in, a vast and endless hush that filled the cabin. The darkness of space enveloped them, the planet below shrinking with every passing second.

Sarai let out a slow breath, her fingers loosening on the straps.

And as the ship’s systems adjusted to the weightlessness of orbit, she could only hope the truth stayed buried long enough to get them to their destination.