The countdown began.
Leah stood exactly where Kael had left her. The floor vibrating beneath her boots as freight haulers rolled across the docking bay. Workers shouted over one another. Forklifts lifted reinforced containers toward the cargo elevators. Every second, another crate disappeared into Ark 0's cavernous belly.
No one moved casually anymore.
Every face carried the same expression.
Twenty-four hours.
That was all they had.
James stepped beside her, folding his tablet beneath one arm.
The countdown clock dominated the command center wall.
LAUNCH WINDOW: 23 HOURS, 47 MINUTES
It wasn't counting toward departure anymore.
It was counting toward survival.
Every second that disappeared belonged to someone who would never make it aboard.
Docking Bay One looked nothing like it had the day before.
The silence was gone.
The bay had become an organized storm.
Massive cargo carriers rolled through reinforced blast doors one after another, guided by glowing floor markers while overhead cranes glided across steel rails carrying containers larger than apartment blocks.
Forklifts darted between them like insects.
Automated drones floated overhead, scanning barcodes, checking atmospheric seals, and projecting loading routes in pale blue holograms.
Everywhere Leah looked—pressure.
The entire dock vibrated beneath her boots as another convoy eased inside.
James stood beside the logistics console, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other.
"...Convoy Twelve is three minutes behind schedule."
One of the logistics officers answered without looking up.
"Traffic."
James deadpanned.
"There are no roads down here."
"They managed to invent one."
James sighed.
"I'll add 'creative driving' to today's list of disasters."
Leah almost smiled.
Almost.
The first cargo containers split open under the cranes.
Rows of vacuum-packed food slid into view.
Protein bricks. Checked.
Freeze-dried vegetables. Dubbled Checked.
Cultured meat cartridges. Trippled Checked.
Hydroponic nutrient concentrates and more arrived.
Each pallet carried a bright digital tag.
YEAR ONE
YEAR TWO
YEARTHREE
Leah frowned.
"They've already sorted it by consumption cycle?"
James nodded.
"Everything."
He enlarged a schematic of Ark 0.
Colored compartments lit across the enormous ship.
"Food."
Another section glowed.
"Water reserves."
Another.
"Medical."
Another.
"Hydroponics."
Another.
"Manufacturing."
Leah stared.
"You planned every kilogram."
James looked offended.
"Of course. I am efficient and very organized. I also like to have access avaliable for trade."
Leah rubbed her forehead getting more stressed by the minute.
The bay doors opened again.
This convoy was different.
Long armored transports.
No company logos.
Just matte-black plating.
Kael walked beside them with six Legion officers. No wasted movement. He simply watched every container being unloaded.
One of the officers approached.
"General."
Kael stopped.
"Report."
"Medical reserves have arrived."
Kael nodded.
"Inspection."
"Already underway."
"Again."
The officer didn't hesitate.
"Yes, sir."
Leah watched him disappear.
"They already inspected those."
James didn't even look up.
"They'll inspect them four more times."
"Excessive much?"
James laughed once.
"You've never watched Kael prepare for war. I don't think he's ever been more alerted."
Container after container rolled toward Ark 0.
Medical nanites.
Surgical equipment.
Portable operating suites.
Artificial organ printers.
Cryogenic medication.
Blood synthesizers.
Leah slowed and looked at James.
"There was one barely operating room."
She watched another container disappear into the loading elevator.
"We have six."
James nodded quietly.
"And twelve emergency surgical stations."
Leah couldn't hide her surprise.
"Twelve?"
"Kael doesn't plan for peace."
Farther down the dock, another convoy arrived.
This one carried water.
Not bottles.
Entire purification systems.
Atmospheric condensers.
Desalination modules.
Ice processors.
Replacement membranes stacked in climate-controlled containers.
Leah stopped beside one enormous cylindrical tank.
"How much water?"
James answered automatically.
"Enough to recycle at ninety-nine point eight percent efficiency."
"And if something fails?"
"There are backups."
"And if those fail?"
"There are backups for the backups."
Leah smiled despite herself.
"You're paranoid. Stupid."
James grinned.
"The right man for the right job."
A loud mechanical thud echoed across the bay.
Everyone looked up.
A cargo crane had lowered an enormous steel container onto the loading platform.
The side doors unfolded.
Inside— rows upon rows of seed vaults.
Leah walked closer.
Thousands of them.
Rice.
Corn.
Wheat.
Soybeans.
Fruit trees.
Medicinal herbs.
Flowers.
She stared.
"Flowers?"
A botanist nearby smiled.
"They're good for pollinators."
Another scientist added,
"And morale."
James shrugged.
"People need reasons to remember Earth."
The words landed heavier than anyone intended. The dock fell strangely quiet.
Only for a second.
Then the machinery started moving again. Leah wandered farther inside Ark 0. The corridors no longer echoed.
Workers filled every passage. Electric carts zipped by carrying supplies.
Engineers climbed maintenance scaffolds. Robotic haulers disappeared into freight elevators. The ship felt very alive and fighting.
For the first time, Leah understood she had made the right decision. They could probably survive for longer ten years if things goes right.
She entered Agricultural Deck One.
Hydroponic towers stretched farther than she could see.
Empty for now.
Workers assembled irrigation lines.
Artificial sunlight panels glowed overhead.
Nutrient tanks hummed beneath transparent flooring.
Leah ran a hand across one of the empty planting beds as she remember the ration paste, dripping water and the life that wasn'te quite a life.
Her comm crackled.
"Leah."
Kael.
She pressed the receiver.
"I'm in Agriculture."
"Come to Dock Three."
"I'm on my way."
His voice paused.
Then—
"Walk through Engineering first."
She frowned.
"Why?"
"I want you to see something."
The line went dead.
Engineering occupied nearly three full decks.
The deeper she went, the warmer it became.
Massive fusion conduits pulsed beneath transparent shielding.
Cooling systems rumbled.
Power relays flashed rhythmically.
Technicians swarmed around machinery the size of buildings.
Leah slowed near the central reactor chamber.
It looked impossible.
The reactor wasn't merely powering engines.
It was powering civilization.
A young technician noticed her staring.
"Beautiful, isn't she?"
Leah nodded. Not having the words.
He smiled proudly.
"Neither has anyone else."
She continued toward Dock Three.
Halfway there—a forklift stopped abruptly.
The operator frowned.
"Huh."
Another worker walked over.
"Problem?"
"Scanner rejected this container."
"What is it?"
The driver checked his tablet.
"Food concentrates."
James' voice suddenly came over the dock-wide network.
"Hold Container C-Seventeen."
The entire loading team froze.
"Repeat."
James' tone had changed to cold precision.
"Nobody touches Container C-Seventeen."
Kael's voice followed immediately.
"Seal Dock Three."
Every Legion soldier in sight moved at once. Weapons came off their backs. Security doors slammed shut with heavy metallic booms.
Loading cranes stopped midair.
The constant roar of the dock died into uneasy silence. Leah looked toward the isolated container. It sat alone in the middle of the loading lane.
One ordinary cargo box among thousands.
James appeared at a run, tablet in hand, eyes fixed on the scanner results.
His face had gone pale.
"That's impossible..."
Kael arrived seconds later.
"What did you find?"
James looked up slowly.
"The manifest says food."
He swallowed.
"...the weight says otherwise."
No one spoke.
Around them, the entire docking bay stood frozen, surrounded by thousands of tons of supplies waiting to board Ark 0.
For the first time that day, Leah felt it.
Not the urgency.
Not the countdown.
The enemy had reached them before they had even launched.