Captains Log; June 18th, 2018:

"Here we sat in open space, above our Beloved Earth. Not even a decade earlier was life so simple that the worst of our worries was how American Idol would end. Now I long for those days, long for such ignorance.

That was before the Red Eye'd ones came. Machines built for war, built by their first likely victims. We never met them, and only god knows who they were, but I will say that I compassionately hate that race. We are on the verge of collapse here. Half the world is gone in a nuclear wasteland. Half the population with it. That was 4 years ago when they first came.

The only reason we survived was due to our excellence in our new favorite toy: the laser. Yes, a missile can only get a missile so quickly, but the speed of light is much quicker. Now we stand united, because our old enemies are either dead or just as likely to die against the Red Eye's as we are. We are United because of our enemy, and because of what is the same for us.

And as I wait here as captain of Humanities first 'Jump' capable ship, aptly named Enterprise, we prepare to embark to take the fight to the enemy, no matter how bad the odds are. Maybe Millennium Falcon would have been a better name; never tell us the odds. We know we're going to die, but if our families and friends can live from our actions, then I guess it makes it all worth while. They can still be happy. And I'm happy, too. We get to be the first to exorcise the best an the worst of humanity on the Red Eye's. Revenge is sweet, and when we find that next WhiteStar with the Crescent fighters, well, no human words can describe the pain they will feel, if they can feel. What they have against us, I will never know.

Maybe I can ask when I see one in hell someday."

Captain Mike Mitchell Renolds took up the center spot in CIC. No one ever called it that, though. Everyone called it the bridge. Everyone here had taken as many lessons as they could in space warfare, both fictional and nonfictional. They were the best of the best. Renolds himself had always been torn between Mater Chief and Darth Vader, but when it came to his favorite ship, The Enterprise C had always been it. Not just by how it looked, but for what it stood for. It was why he pushed so hard for the name to be given to the ship rather than 'Defiant,' or 'Gaia.' Fate protects fools and ships named Enterprise.

Enterprise was a ship unlike any before her, and it wasn't just because of her Jump Core. She was well over twice the length of any other ship in the defense fleet, and armed to the teeth with Heavy laser batteries, Point Defense lasers, and multiple Nuclear Ordinance bays. They were intended for use as missiles, but could also be used as mines, when the decision came down to the wire. Her Nuclear reactors that powered everything were so extensive, and large, that they had to leave an open spot between the sublight engines in order to allow proper cooling to take place in the depth of space. Of course, some could argue that the designers were just fans of Star Trek, but then one would have to say that she had a number of similarities to a Star Destoyer on her front side, minus the bridge on top.

Of course, they had gotten most of the tech in one of the first battles with the Red Eyes, and had downed a WhiteStar. It took them a while to figure out the tech, but when they did, it was a big advantage. It turned out that their programming language was so radically different from Earth's, that they could not hack into it without first capturing some of Earths' own computers. It guaranteed a certain safety in the computer barrier, as well.

Captain Renolds was a strong man, but he was also kind, when he wanted to be. He was just under 2 meters tall, but relatively muscular. It didn't show too much under his uniform, but the figure was still there to be seen. An African American, it was peculiar that he had white hair on his head, even for an older man. Any way you looked at it, there was nothing common about him. He had served as a Fighter pilot during the Gulf Wars, and one of the first few to shoot down a Redeye Crescent. Besides his tactical mastermind, there was another reason he was in command of the ship. He was a person everyone could serve, be loyal to, and could be counted on as fair to, whereas his XO was much less forgiving. At least outwardly.

Commander Chelsea Alexas Prager was not someone you wanted to trifle with if you were below her rank. She was the force of the Captain's power, as if he needed any. She could beat Mike with relative ease in an arm wrestling contest, as well as pretty much anyone else. If her face wasn't imposing enough, she was nearly 2 and a quarter meters tall, with a long ponytail coming down past her waist. Military regulations were that you could only have your hair 25 cm long, but the rumor was that when she was in military boot camp, she'd keep that hair her CO had her cut off and tar him or her during the night, and making sure that hair stayed on them. It wasn't like Renolds cared much anyway. Earth Regulations went so far as Earth could reach, and no ship was capable of catching up to Enterprise yet. It'd be more than a decade before they return to Earth, if they could find the food to keep themselves supplied after a couple of years.

Still, Mike and Chelsea were on a first name basis. They had been good friends when she first started her first Space Duty during the last couple years before the Redeyes came. There hadn't been a war yet, but they were preparing for one in space. Only reason Earth wasn't completely destroyed in their first attack. Some said they were romantically involved, but the real relationship was more of a father-daughter one. Neither had had the best childhood, and they shared their experiences with each other. Behind the hard wall was a nice young woman, caring and daring, even if the crew never realized it.

Especially Lieutenant Thomas 'Hellraizer' Elizabeth. Never make fun of his last name, or his British heritage. Commander Prager witnessed that first hand, having been the only one to ever beat him in a fight. He's also the only one to ever have fought with Prager for more than a minute, let alone draw blood at all. While he was born and raised for a while in England, he considers space his home. One of the British Admirals was his father, and took him up when he was 7 years old. He only occasionally returned Earthside for a visit to his mother, who refused to go into space. He was the best pilot on the ship, let alone the fleet.

Of the three fighters on the ship, he oddly preferred the American over the European and upgraded Chinese, who's nation only had a small number of survivors in terms of their overall population, counterparts. The American Lance IV was the least maneuverable of the three fighters, but had the most firepower and was the quickest to accelerate in space. The European Landlord II was the 'recon' of the three, most well suited to solo combat, and had the best sensors. The Chinese Helldragon III, as it had been come to be known, was named for it's distinct ability that, when it was combined with the American nav programs, It could spin and slide much like the dragons in the old Chinese parades. Only a fool would dispute the maneuverability of the craft.

That's what the Cag Abraham 'Lincoln' Tzu liked best about the craft. He was short for an American, and wasn't considered all that special, but Renolds held him in high regard. He had originally been in the Chinese Stratospheric Navy, but after the destruction of most of his homeland and the joining of the space forces of the world, he gained both admiration for and respect from Mike. The two had a patrol skirmish just weeks before the redeye's came, and even with all the disadvantages the Helldragon IIs had against the Lance III, he put of a strong fight. The most impressive thing was his tactical ability, since he was always making traps Renolds almost always just barely missed. Eventually, their battle only ended when their fuel ran out, and each had to be towed back home by other friendly craft.

"Captain Renolds?" Someone asked. He looked over at the helm officer, one Lieutenant Mia Alison, and caught what was on her eager eye. Some said Mia was too young. Others said she was too blond. Chelsea herself said that she was too 'girly,' but Mike had a gut instinct. She had graduated the top of her class in her field, and on top of that, was also somewhat of an inventor. There was nothing she had made practical yet, but her bunk was automatically reset each day by some kind of device who's only power was her pulling a lever. It wasn't elaborate, but for having such little material around, it was good.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" He responded. There was no hint of emotion in his voice, and her face began to get a slightly worried look. Renolds smiled, and it went away soon after.

"The US President has given us authorization to jump, with a personal message to you."

"Oh?" He had met the President not too long ago. The two shared a number of things in common. They both hunted, although they hunted different things. It wasn't the only thing, though. "What did 'Crazy Lady' say?"

"She said 'Go kill as many Metalheads as you can, I bet the name of our next jump ship against the European Head Minister'." Go figure.

"Give the order. Jump away." He said. "Just a quick trip to the neighborhood next door." She set her mike to shipwide, and prepared to broadcast.

"All Hands! Prepare to Jump in 60 seconds. 59... 58..."

Finally, Earth was going to strike back. Finally, he'd get to show the 'Christmas Lights,' as one of the designers had put it, on the ship to the Redeyes. Oh, yes, this was going to be fun. Colonel Prager walked up and bent over a bit to talk into his ear.

"Exited now, aren't we?" She said in a slightly taunting voice. Mike could tell it was more of from her own excitement than trying to taunt him, though.

"Of course," He casually responded. "I heard that some of the tester's lost their lunch after the first few times it was tested with people onboard. Its too bad you haven't eaten anything for a while."

"Those were your orders, Captain." She replied, back to her normally cold self.

"Still, it would've been fun to see the crew's reaction to your weak stomach." He smiled. So did she, but in a more murky manner. She would have responded, but the countdown was getting close.

"3... 2... 1... Jump."