Commander Cody's Death Novels & Stories

"BUT NOT TOO LATE FOR THE OTHERS. THE FLEET... THE REMNANT FLEET CARRIES THREE MILLION CONVERTED. THREE MILLION PRISONERS IN THEIR OWN BODIES. IF YOU CAN SAVE THEM..." The commander's form began to dissolve. "THE DEVOURER COMES, PURE CARRIER. IT HAS TASTED YOUR SIGNAL. NOTHING WILL STOP IT NOW. NOTHING EXCEPT..." The commander died before finishing its sentence. Jack stood in the wreckage of the stasis facility, his parents' pods undamaged, his hands covered in silver dust that had once been a living being. Behind him, Marcus and Charon had finished their opponents. They were wounded—Marcus had deep gouges across his chest, Charon was barely standing—but alive.

Robert stared silently at the image on the screen, then muttered, “He died in the Redfall breach. There was a funeral. I was there.” “Apparently,” Elias said, stepping into the room, “someone else was too.” Charlotte didn’t speak. Her fingers tapped against her thigh in a slow, unrelenting rhythm. She had known Caleb. Not just in passing. He had been one of her unit. A loyal officer. Clean record, brave under pressure, and—if she were honest—the only one who ever made her laugh during the darkest stretches of the Pacific Collapse. He’d been vaporized by a rail burst. Nothing left but teeth and fragments of dog tag.

I turned to Atlas and asked, "So, how did I lose my memory?" Atlas's face was filled with regret. "When Annalise died, it gave Celine an excuse to make her move, but she also sensed my presence and intensified her search. The three of us were on the run, and when they closed in, you were discovered. Their car deliberately crashed into ours, and when our car overturned, you were thrown out. Cody sacrificed himself to cushion my fall. In the end, he couldn't escape the car before it exploded... and he died." "He... died?" I stared at Atlas in shock, my voice barely audible.

- Report to the CSU from across the line. - Whatever it is. Tell me. - You felt the spine of your back shiver. - The fingerprint of the phone we found at the scene, the information accessed, everything indicates that we have the killer under our eyes, someone who infiltrated without raising suspicion.... - He paused while the commander’s eyes were filled with tears. - I’m very sorry Petter, but John Martinez is Andy’s killer. - concluded.

“Yes, sir. When you got assigned to that Rodrigues case, their captain got here to detain him for questions. He’s been there ever since.” “Kind of serendipitous, don’t you think?” Bright was browsing the case files when the pictures of the crime scene got cycled to the front. He irked at the sight of the 5 deaths and countless other shots at the lot, including the mentioned officer Voss. “Sir, why didn’t you main this case?” Bright inquired. “I pulled myself out. I’m too close to the case.” August remembered Jameson, who in this death, screamed pity in his...eyes.

If it ever did, he would dismiss it as a mere gossip. Marcus continued staring through the windows as the greenery rushed past them, while he turned back inwardly to something that was troubling his soul. His mind told him he had made a mistake. His ego told him that what he did was right. It was not every day that one got to deal with a witch, even if it was a little boy. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he had not nearly choked because the boy, Jason was looking at him. Dean had died soon after. Problem was he didn’t know how powerful the boy was.

"Alright, we can do that." Eric, sounding like he had been deflated, murmured, "Well, whatever makes you happy, Yara." Right as their words hung in the air– Ding! Ding! Ding! The system alerts chimed in. [Conquest target: Eric, heart rate 100%. Mission accomplished.] [Conquest target: Lance, heart rate 100%. Mission accomplished.] [Conquest target: Ron, heart rate 100%. Mission accomplished.] [Congrats, host! All three conquest missions are a wrap! Tallying up rewards...]

I gripped tight, but he slipped right through and fell. I watched helplessly as Brandon vanished from my sight, tumbling into the abyss. Not a sound from him. Brandon's death was not on me, but it happened right before my eyes. My brain short-circuited for a second before it hit me to call the cops. Maybe Brandon could still be saved? Revenge had crossed my mind, but I never wanted blood on my hands. I dialed 911, and the cops were on the move in no time. The rescue team found Brandon at the cliff's base, his head cracked open on a rock—dead on impact.

I noticed some of my men also coming out of the dark, shadowed areas. I had thought Colt was dead. He was bleeding right there. When I saw him last, he seemed like he was surely going to die. But now, seeing him right here in front of me brought ease, thinking his mother and little sister wouldn't have to face a world without him—the world I had faced without my dad. "Colt... you're alive..." I said. "Of course, ma'am. Those wounds weren't ones to be the end of me. Back in the army, I've faced greater wounds than that before," he said, gesturing even in the situation we were in.

"For them, and for the skies they gave their lives to protect." … The mission turned out to be far more brutal than anticipated. For 17 days, I remained covertly deployed behind enemy lines, narrowly escaping death on three distinct occasions. When I finally secured the intel, my location was compromised, and I was boxed into a valley by enemy forces. I was completely out of ammo, and a bullet had torn through my right shoulder, soaking half my body in blood. Slumping against a boulder, I booted up the encrypted communicator to send out my final transmission.