A Commander's Vindication

My name is Melissa Lawrence, the ace commander of the interstellar guard, Starshield. That morning, ten years ago, the base alarms pierced the silence of the Mars Colony like a dull blade. The newly developed Aurora Vessel had vanished; it was the pivotal weapon capable of breaching interstellar barriers, embodying five years of the entire team's dedication. I frantically scoured the surveillance footage, but the screens showed only emptiness—someone had erased all traces beforehand. My subordinates' faces were ashen, and the air was thick with panic. I forced myself to remain calm and immediately activated the highest-level search protocol, yet after half a month, the Aurora Vessel remained missing without a trace. Three months later, disaster struck as foretold. The Shadow Clan's warship suddenly appeared in Mars' orbit, its firestorm pelting the colony like relentless rain. I led my team in a desperate stand, laser cannon beams streaking fiercely through the dark void of space. But the enemy's firepower was overwhelming, as if they anticipated every flaw in our defenses. The battle endured for three days and nights. When the smoke cleared, the base lay in ruins, and thousands of team members were lost forever on the battlefield. I knelt amidst the ruins, my hands stained with the blood of my comrades-in-arms, my heart as if being torn apart alive. While I was consumed by grief, Willa Sharpe approached. She was my deputy, and also the unattainable lover in the heart of my husband, Benjamin Jackson—I had known this for a long time but refused to confront it. A strange calmness rested on Willa Sharpe's face. She handed me an encrypted communiqué, saying she had detected traces of the Aurora Vessel near the asteroid belt by Pluto. Without hesitation, I immediately gathered the remaining team members and piloted the Meteor Craft to set off. I thought this was an opportunity to correct my mistake, unaware that I was walking straight into a deadly trap. As the Meteor Craft entered the asteroid belt, dozens of Shadow Clan warships suddenly appeared surrounding us. The laser cannon's lock-on alarm blared sharply; I instantly realized we had fallen into an ambush. Willa Sharpe suddenly drew her laser gun, aiming it at my chest. "Melissa Lawrence, don't blame me; blame yourself for standing between the chief and me." Her voice was icy cold, devoid of any warmth. I could hardly believe my own eyes; the girl who always wore a gentle smile now seemed utterly transformed. The Chief of the Shadow Clan, the infamous cold and ruthless Simon, appeared on the enemy warship's display. He slung his arm over Willa Sharpe's shoulder, smiling triumphantly: "Melissa Lawrence, thank you for delivering the Meteor Craft as well. Now our fleet has gained another prized asset." At last, I understood—the theft of the Aurora Vessel and the Shadow Clan's assault were conspiracies masterminded by Willa Sharpe and Simon. I struggled to activate the counterattack system, only to be kicked to the ground by Willa Sharpe. She snatched the control wristband from my hand and then shouted into the communicator: "Melissa Lawrence has betrayed the organization, colluded with the Shadow Clan, stolen the Aurora Vessel, and intends to defect to the enemy with the Meteor Craft!" Rage swept through me, my entire body trembling as I tried to refute her accusations, but a stun grenade from the enemy detonated nearby, plunging me into darkness and knocking me unconscious.