The IR floods with a piercing, laserlike green, then compensates. I’m in the hangar now, a vast and cavernous zone with ships and personnel flitting about. Some unsecured ships and individuals are floating up now, unsecured when the grav system disengaged. The blinding light comes from the blue glow that rings the hangar opening; the plasma curtain, superheated argon held in place by magnetic fields, keeps the air in and the vacuum out. This technology predates even metamaterials.

I move over behind a secured one-person fighter craft, instinctively taking shelter under its wing, although I don’t need to. I turn and see the fuzzy projections of some other Spec Ops guys getting behind me and kneeling. I motion for us to move on closer to the personnel, and we quickly do, with the sound of the nitrogen gas jets from our suits masked by the inherent noise of the machinery.

The LT orders us to start taking out the targets.

The Invisible Men are about to make history.