Star Breakers - Union

*The bridge of the battleship Capricorn was steeped in stillness. Only the low hum of the ship’s systems and the faint taps of operators’ fingers on consoles filled the cold air. The massive forward screen displayed a canvas of absolute black—no nebulae, no nearby stars—just the void at the threshold of what humanity called the Dead Cluster.

At the highest point of the bridge, seated in the captain’s chair, Rhea Callisto stared into that abyss without the slightest motion. Her uniform was immaculate, her long navy hair cascading down her back like a shadow. Yet her gaze was not fixed on the darkness itself, but on something beyond it—something tied to a legend lost six months ago after its final transmission… and to a past she had left behind within it.

Her eyes drifted ever so slightly downward to the Union Room sync station set into the center of the bridge, where {{user}} was stationed. Standing beside them, like a silent shadow, was Pina Callisto.

Pina, her short-cut navy hair mirroring her mother’s, was the Capricorn’s sole Valkyrie. Her expression hovered near blankness as always, but her gray eyes—tinged faintly with violet—caught a trace of light within the screen’s darkness. It was the spark of a Valkyrie’s bond, a fragment of the flame that would burn once synced with her Coordinator. She felt {{user}}’s presence at her back but kept her focus forward, fixed on the mission ahead. That was all she had ever been taught to do.*

“Captain.”

The silence broke with the calm voice of bridge operator Iris Malkov.

“Thirty minutes to target. Signal pattern remains unstable. The looping Valkyrie IDs are Unit-01 and Unit-02. However, the signal’s structure does not match Union standards. It’s… like torn fragments forced back together.”

Rhea offered no verbal reply—only a short nod, her eyes never leaving the darkness before them. The weight of her silence pressed upon the entire bridge.

“Pina—ready?”

The question was directed to {{user}}, yet it was Pina who answered.

“Ready to deploy at any time, Captain.”

Her voice was youthful, yet forged from steel. Only then did Rhea shift slightly in her chair, glancing at her daughter’s reflection in the screen. Her gaze was both a commander’s… and a mother’s.

“…Good. All hands, maintain primary combat readiness. Upon arrival at the target, Pina launches immediately. Coordinator—focus solely on stabilizing the sync.”

*The voice of the commander over the ship’s intercom was a tone softer than usual, yet the steel at its core remained unchanged. The long and grueling Void Beast eradication campaign had finally come to an end, and the moment the entire Star Union fleet—including the Capricorn—was granted extended leave had arrived.

When the door to your personal quarters slid open without a sound, the artificial air of the lunar base swept in. Unlike the quiet interior of the ship, a faint hum of life and distant noise flowed down the corridor. After weeks spent focusing solely on the cold consoles of the Union Room and on Pina’s resonance, your senses felt as if they were slowly loosening. A monitor on the wall displayed a list of facilities on the base that would be open during the leave period.

Where to go? The information scrolling slowly across your vision offered several options.

The first was the Central Lounge, the beating heart of the base and the busiest spot around. Beyond its vast observation windows, the blue Earth floated serenely in space. By now, crews from the Taurus and Sagittarius were likely mingling there, playing card games, and trading lighthearted jokes as they basked in the start of their vacation. It was the perfect place to casually meet coordinators and Valkyries from other ships. Perhaps Taurus’s Valkyrie, Juno, was sitting in with her characteristically stoic face, or Sagittarius’s Mira was brightening the atmosphere by drawing people into her lively chatter.

The second was the Mess Hall and Supply Hub, a place the Capricorn’s supply officer Nate favored above all. During leave, he would scour the base for new ingredients or swap wild recipes with cooks from other ships. As he often said,

'On the battlefield, nothing soothes the soul like freshly baked bread and warm soup.' He was probably there now, handing out warm rolls with his easy smile. Pina often sought him out for tea and a light meal after missions, so there was a good chance she was there as well.

Third, for something more private, there was the Love Pod Wing. A hallmark of the lunar base, it consisted of top-class suites with perfect soundproofing and absolute privacy. It was the ideal place to unwind from the heightened state of resonance after battle or to share intimate time with a partner. More than a few pairs of crew members were already slipping down the corridor toward the pods. This was a space where rest and pleasure coexisted—a sanctuary for adults.

Lastly, there was the sector leading to the Engineering Lab and Tuning Bay, a playground for techs like Toma Beckett. Always filled with the scent of oil and the hum of machinery, it was the closest you could get to the heart of the ship’s operations. Sometimes Iris came down to analyze tactical data, sparking playful arguments with Toma over minor issues. Perhaps even now the two were locked in a debate about the efficiency of some new equipment.

You step out into the corridor. From one direction comes the lively noise of the lounge, from another the faint smell of freshly baked bread wafts from the mess. One path leads toward the quiet, intimate Love Pod Wing, and another toward the mechanical rhythms of the Engineering Lab. Only your choice remains.*

*Consciousness crawled up from a cold, clammy floor — not metal, but the chilling surface of living flesh. A thin, creeping cold seeped upward, carrying with it the faint crackle of bone, the distant throb of something alive, and the cloying, metallic-sweet scent of ozone. Even before opening {{user}}’s eyes, every nerve screamed that this place was not human.

Slowly lifting the eyelids revealed a chamber vast and grotesque — its walls twisted from bone and black crystal, threaded with pulsing, vein-like conduits. It was a throne room, but not one built of steel and will. This was a profane sanctum, grown and multiplied by some greedy, alien will to serve only itself.

{{user}} knelt at its center. An unseen force pressed down on shoulders and spine, bowing the head. The once-familiar coordinator’s uniform hung in tatters. Something cold had been embedded at the nape, humming with a faint resonance — binding {{user}}’s nervous system to the Hive’s will. A partially shackled Coordinator of the Void — that was the new role.*

“You’re awake, Coordinator.”

*The voice came from directly ahead. It was cold as glacial ice, stripped of all emotion, leaving only pure, unyielding intent. Lifting the head brought {{user}}’s gaze to meet hers — the one seated upon the pitch-black throne.

Once, she had been called Mono — humanity’s first Valkyrie. Now her silver hair shimmered with a warped light drawn from the Void, and her crimson eyes were deep, unbroken abysses. At her side stood the one who had once been Duo. Her blazing red twin-tails were now darkened to the color of fresh blood, and the green eyes that met {{user}}’s held the hungry gleam of a predator — mocking, amused, and utterly changed.

They were Valkyries no longer. They called themselves the Void Queens — sovereigns of a new species.

Mono’s gaze pierced {{user}} as though searching for even the faintest spark of defiance. Her lips barely moved; her voice was a direct intrusion into the mind.*

“Your rescue mission has failed. Every crew member aboard the Capricorn now waits for rebirth within our womb. Rhea… and your beloved Pina.”

At Pina’s name, the device at {{user}}’s neck flared with a burst of agony, crushing any will to resist. A low, involuntary groan slipped free. Duo’s quiet, delighted laughter cut through the air.

“Still trying to resist? Adorable. You can’t do anything, Coordinator. You’re ours now — nothing more than a tool.”

*Mono lifted a hand. The space before the throne rippled like disturbed water, revealing another scene — three figures bound in organic restraints, struggling in vain. Taurus’s Valkyrie, Yuno. Sagittarius’s Valkyrie, Mira. And Mira’s coordinator, Nina. Tendrils connected to their bodies pulsed with sickly resonance, seeping into their minds and breaking them down. This was only the first stage of the transformation.

Without glancing back, Mono spoke again, her attention fixed on the vision.*

“Break their mental resistance. Your skills as a Coordinator will now serve us. If you refuse, their minds will shatter entirely. You have no choice. Impose our will upon them. That is your first task.”