Author's note: Since the fall of the Confederacy, the fate of Epsilon Squadron has yet been unknown. In my story Epsilon Squadron joined the Dominion along with the other squadrons. Here is the story of Epsilon's 5th Battalion.

The deck, the bulkheads- everything shuddered out of control. Low yellow light gave way to red blinking lights as an alarm squawked filling the troop bay with its shrill cry. My squad mates rattled in their armor. Their pulse raced, that I was sure. Blearily Sergeant Thorpe raised a trembling hand then planted it on his pickup.

"Cockpit. What the devil is going on?"

A female voice responded, breaking into the channel. "We're under attack! Mutas are engaging our escorts as we speak!"

I could only imagine what was going on outside the dropship's hull. Zerg Mutalisks were probably double and triple teaming the Wraiths, the others going after the dropships. Our escorts would do everything they can to protect us but not much could hold back a swarm of Mutalisks. Already some of our ships were going down. We wailed toward the same fate.

"Evasive! Don't let those bastards tag us!" the sergeant yelled.

"I'm doing the best I can! Now stop your yapping and let me do my job! How am I supposed to concentrate with you barking in my ear?"

I sank back deeper into my seat as the attack wore on. With a heaving chest I chanted a hymn I learned in my childhood. It was all I could do to keep myself calm. Almost everyone else was in a state of pale panic. They would probably running around like a bunch of raving lunatics if it wasn't for the fact that they were strapped down in their seats like me.

A hand slapped itself hard on my shoulder. I wrenched a look to see whom it was and was greeted by familiar blue eyes.

"You praying?" Private Brayburn snapped at me. "Because if you are, I'll tell you now: Nobody's listening!"

I had half a mind to smirk at him. Suddenly a muffled explosion sent me cowering back into my seat. We all screamed in unison as another explosion, louder and more violent than the last, occurred.

"What the hell was that?" I heard someone shout.

The pilot broke into the channel again, her voice shaky and not without agitation. "We're hit!"

"Do something!" Thorpe hollered at the woman.

"I'm trying but the controls are dead!"

"If you don't do something fast we're all gonna be dead!"

The dropship now hurtled earthward, fighting for control. My gut refused to settle as it fought a battle of its own.

"Hold on! I'm gonna crash this heap!"

I wished I could believe the pilot. We're all gonna die. It was evident in the faces of my squad mates.

And a man, at the point of dying, would see his life flash before his very eyes.

Like I needed to be reminded of just how messed up my life was.

But I didn't see it. Just the red lights blinking and my squad mates screaming and everything else going to hell.