Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner
Chapter 357 - 357: Black Saber [The Ark's response]

An encrypted transmission from the Ark arrived at 0800 hours after their initial meeting. Cassandra sat in her quarters, staring at the official seal that marked the message as Priority Alpha—the kind of authorization that could reshape entire military operations with a few carefully chosen words.

Her fingers hesitated over the decode key. Whatever was in this message would determine whether her people lived or died, whether the Vanguard Program continued or became a memorial to promising lives cut short. She entered her command codes and watched the text unfold across her screen.

•CLASSIFIED TRANSMISSION - PRIORITY ALPHA•

•FROM: EARTH DEFENSE FORCE CENTRAL COMMAND•

•TO: VANGUARD STATION COMMAND STAFF•

•RE: SIRIUS SYSTEM RESPONSE AUTHORIZATION•

•Request for precision rescue deployment: APPROVED•

•Operational parameters: Modified per strategic assessment•

•Personnel authorization: Single Vanguard command staff deployment•

•Support assets: Task Force Umbra - Elite Response Unit•

•Timeline: Immediate departure authorized•

•Additional note: Vanguard Program assets too valuable for multiple command staff risk exposure. One deployment only. Selection at station discretion.•

•Good hunting.•

•Fleet Admiral Arthur•

•EDF Central Command•

Cassandra closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. They'd gotten approval, but with conditions that made everything more complicated. One commander. One chance. The weight of it settled on her shoulders like a piece of armor she'd forgotten how to remove.

Thirty minutes later, the three of them sat around the same conference table, but the atmosphere had changed completely. The tactical displays were dark, the holographic projectors silent. This wasn't about strategy anymore—this was about deciding which of them would risk everything to bring their people home.

"The Ark was clear," Mei said, her voice quieter than usual. "One Vanguard commander. The rest of us stay here to maintain program operations."

Volkov leaned back in his chair, his weathered hands folded on the table. "Thirty years of active duty. Combat deployments across fourteen different systems. I've lost count of how many insertion operations I've led into hostile territory."

"Experience matters," he continued, but there was something in his voice that suggested he was trying to convince himself more than them. "The kind of tactical thinking that comes from decades of real combat situations."

Cassandra studied his face, recognizing the careful way he was building his argument. This wasn't about proving capability—this was about justifying sacrifice.

"You've also got the most experience training new recruits," she said gently. "The Vanguard Program needs someone who understands long-term development, not just immediate tactical responses."

"The program needs all of us," Mei said, her sharp mind already working through the variables. "But if we're being practical about resource allocation..." She paused, her fingers tracing patterns on the table surface. "I'm the newest member of the command staff. Least amount of institutional knowledge invested in my position."

"That's not how this works," Volkov said firmly.

"Isn't it?" Mei's dark eyes met his steadily. "You've been developing training protocols for thirty years. Cassandra helped to create the Vanguard Program from scratch. I've been here eight months. The math is simple."

Cassandra felt something twist in her chest. They were all doing it—calculating their own worth, their own expendability, as if human lives were just variables in some cosmic equation.

"You're the best tactical analyst in the EDF," she said. "Your work on battlefield adaptation protocols has saved thousands of lives. The program needs that kind of thinking."

"The program needs its founder more," Mei replied. "The Vanguard Program is your vision, your creation. If something happens to you, we lose the entire conceptual framework."

"Which is exactly why I should be the one to go," Cassandra said, leaning forward. "They're my people. My responsibility. I helped design every protocol they're using, every tactic they've learned. If anyone can find them and bring them home, it's someone who understands how they think."

Volkov shook his head slowly. "Command doesn't work like that. Personal connection clouds judgment. Makes you take unnecessary risks."

"And impersonal command gets people killed," Cassandra shot back. "These aren't just numbers on a tactical display. They're Noah Eclipse, who's barely nineteen and already more powerful than soldiers twice his age. Lucas Grey, who volunteers for every dangerous assignment because he thinks he has something to prove. Sophie Reign, who joined the program to carve a new path different from the one her father made on earth,"

She stood up, pacing to the viewport where Earth curved below them in its deceptive tranquility. "They're Diana Frost, who grew up in the outer colonies and knows what it's like to lose everything to Harbinger attacks yet her and her family pulled through. She's a fighter, by blood. I may have known them for what? A few weeks maybe? But trust me, I know my people!"

"All the more reason to send someone who won't make emotional decisions," Volkov said, but his voice had lost its earlier conviction.

"Emotional decisions?" Cassandra turned back to face them. "Commander Pierce has been missing for three days along with one hundred fifty-three of our best people. The Ark wants to send in massive force deployments that could destroy everything we're trying to save. This isn't about emotion—this is about understanding the mission."

The room fell silent. Outside the viewport, a supply ship was docking with the station, its running lights blinking in the regulated pattern of routine operations. Everything looked normal, controlled, safe. But they all knew how quickly normal could become catastrophic in their line of work.

"There's another factor," Mei said quietly. "If this goes wrong, if we lose whoever we send, the program needs its remaining leadership to be as strong as possible."

"Meaning?" Volkov asked.

"Meaning we need to consider not just who's most qualified to succeed, but who's most qualified to fail." Mei's voice was steady, analytical, but Cassandra could see the cost of that objectivity in her eyes. "Who can the program afford to lose?"

"None of us," Cassandra said firmly. "The program can't afford to lose any of us. But our people are out there, and they need someone who understands what they're facing."

She walked back to the table, her decision crystallizing with each step. "I'm going. Not because I'm expendable, not because I'm the most qualified, but because I'm the one who can live with the consequences either way."

"Cassandra—" Volkov began.

"I created this program," she said, her voice carrying the authority that had made her one of the youngest commanders in EDF history. "I recruited those soldiers. I trained them, I believed in them, and I sent them into harm's way. If they die because I made a mistake, I want to be there to know what that mistake was."

"And if you die trying to save them?" Mei asked.

"Then I die trying to save them," Cassandra replied simply. "That's what command means."

The silence stretched between them again, but this time it felt different. Final. The kind of quiet that came when difficult decisions had been made and everyone involved understood the weight of what was about to happen.

"I'll prepare the mission briefs," Volkov said finally.

"I'll coordinate with Task Force Umbra," Mei added.

Cassandra nodded, feeling the familiar weight of command settling around her like old armor. "Thank you."

Two hours later, Cassandra stood in the equipment bay, checking her gear one final time. The advanced combat suit felt different from the training gear she'd grown accustomed to while on this station. This was heavier, more complex, designed for situations where failure meant more than just bruised egos and remedial training.

Her Beast Gear backpack dominated her profile, the enhanced power systems and tactical support equipment adding significant bulk to her frame. Inside were enough supplies for extended operations, communication equipment that could punch through most interference, and medical supplies designed for combat trauma rather than training accidents.

The Beast Weapon secured to her thigh was a Amg 350 Banshee Ripper—one of the new generation of experimental weapons designed specifically for Harbinger engagement. It looked like a standard sidearm until activated, when it would extend into a rifle configuration capable of channeling enhanced energy attacks. The kind of weapon that regular soldiers weren't cleared to carry.

"Commander," a voice called from behind her.

She turned to see Mei approaching with a sealed container. "Last-minute addition from the Ark. Classified assets for emergency deployment only."

Cassandra accepted the container, noting its weight and the complex locking mechanisms that required both biometric and command authorization to open. "I don't suppose you can tell me what's inside?"

"Above my clearance level," Mei said. "But the deployment authorization came from Fleet Admiral Arthur personally."

That was significant. Arthur didn't personally authorize anything unless it involved either massive strategic importance or massive potential for catastrophic failure. Sometimes both.

"Understood," Cassandra said, securing the container to her gear harness. "Anything else I should know?"

"The Task Force Umbra commander is Colonel Marcus Stone. You served with him during the Proxima Centauri campaign."

Cassandra's eyebrows rose slightly. She remembered Stone—brilliant tactical mind, absolutely ruthless in combat, and someone who'd earned his reputation by succeeding where other commanders had failed spectacularly.

"Stone's leading the response team?"

"Specifically requested for Harbinger engagement operations," Mei confirmed. "Apparently he's been developing some unconventional approaches to alien contact situations."

"Unconventional how?"

"That's also above my clearance level."

Cassandra nodded, filing the information away. Working with Stone again would be either very good or very bad, depending on how much he'd changed since their last deployment together.

"Transport's ready," Volkov's voice came over the comm system. "Dock Seven."

Cassandra took one last look around the equipment bay, memorizing details that might matter later. The weapons racks, the tactical displays, the photos of successful training exercises that covered one wall. All of it representing the work they'd done to prepare for exactly this kind of situation.

"Bring them home, Cassie," Mei said quietly.

"That's the plan," Cassandra replied.

The transport ship was smaller than she'd expected—a sleek courier vessel designed for speed rather than comfort. Its pilot was already running through pre-flight checks when she secured her gear and strapped in for departure.

"ETA to rendezvous?" she asked.

"Forty-seven minutes," the pilot replied. "Task Force Umbra is holding position at Grid Seven-Seven-Alpha."

Cassandra settled back in her seat as the transport disconnected from Vanguard Station and began its journey toward the rendezvous point. Through the viewport, she could see the massive bulk of the task force ships—heavy cruisers and assault carriers that represented the kind of overwhelming force the Ark preferred for complex operations.

But somewhere in the Sirius system, her people were facing unknown dangers with nothing but their training and their determination to rely on. She was coming for them, backed by the best the EDF could provide.

The question was whether it would be enough.