Delta Squad stood alert, their eyes peering into the shadowed end of the corridor. There wasn't really anything to see, but they watched for movement anyway. If the Major wanted them to stay alert, then they'd stay alert. Unlike the Navy captain that had insisted on trailing along, the Major was worth their loyalty. She led by example, not by flashing her rank and perhaps most importantly, she was one of them but also their commander. If the approach she took in leading her troops was a bit unorthodox, then so be it, it worked.

The Major's men were fiercely loyal---more loyal than even she knew---and they were prepared to go to extraordinary lengths for her. Anyone that complained might be paid a little visit by her Marines---without her knowing, of course. Everything would be sorted out within an hour or so.

The newest of the Marines in Delta Squad, whose nameplate read Jenson, was a private known to her fellow troops simply as Boots. No one really knew how she got that name, but it had stuck and there was nothing she could do about it now. To her family she was known as Ace because she liked being the best, especially when it came to less than safe... activities. She did have a name somewhere under all of her nicknames but she didn't like the name Chastity, so she made sure no one used it. It was that simple.

At the moment she was thinking about something called "bungee jumping." It was some ancient form of entertainment for thrill seekers. Who in their right mind would jump off a cliff hanging by nothing other than an elastic band without any other safety harnesses? There weren't any antigrav belts even though the elastic could snap and the person would be splattered all over the ground far below without a belt to slow their descent. But that was where the thrill came from and Boots never really had been in her right mind anyway; she did it.

What a rush!

After stunts like that---and she had done many, to the dismay of her parents=Boots began seeking the ultimate thrill. She wound up joining the Marines to find it. Here was where the rush was supposed to be, or at least that was what she had thought. She thought she would be doing insane stunts and fighting pirates in heroic battles. Home should be nothing but a distant and boring memory. But there weren't many battles, just drills and waiting on a stupid ship. Boring, boring, boring, boring. She didn't join the military to sit and wait around for orders.

Boots impatiently shifted her feet and the metal grate beneath her boots clacked as the warped grate shifted slightly on its brackets. There were only power cables and sensors under it, so nobody gave even the slightest thought to the sound.

They should have.

Behind them, a different grate lifted off its brackets with a very similar sound and a large head emerged. Cruel yellow eyes glinted behind a demonic grin. The creature's powerful muscles rippled under its leathery scales as it smoothly emerged from the opening, its movements so silent and flowing that the beast gave the impression of molten steel. Saliva dripped from the finely serrated edges of razor teeth, each tooth two centimeters long. It rose on its hunches and a deep growl issued from its throat, rumbling from the darkest depths of its being.

At that moment Private Jenson glanced back.

The beast leapt at her with its claws extended. It moved so fast that there wasn't time to register any details beyond that. The surprised private moved equally fast and sent a burst of rifle fire into its chest but the beast's momentum carried the mortally wounded creature into her and she gasped as the claws ripped through her light armor and tore into her torso, bringing her downto the grating. Each heartbeat echoed in her ears and she felt herself weaken in time with each one, her blood dripping into ---what had seemed only a few seconds before, or was it a lifetime?---a harmless little passage for ducts and conduits.

Boots heard the chatter of her squad mates' fire and saw Lieutenant Stewart bring his plasma carbine around to incinerate the creatures now flowing from the hole in the grating and surging forward from the shadows down the corridor where they must have been waiting for this moment, just out of sight. But Stewart was too slow, the carbine too bulky. He was brought down and screamed in agony as the creatures ripped him apart.

The man had never really had a chance.

Horrified now, Boots was a sideline spectator to the slaughter of Delta Squad, temporarily forgotten by both sides of the battle. This hadn't been the rush she expected battle to be. It hurt too much. She didn't want to die like this and so far from home, that boring, wonderful place where her family lived. This wasn't how it was supposed to be!

Almost by their own volition, Boots's hands reached down towards her belt. She was moving slowly, so slowly. She felt so weak. Her hands gripped the grenade and plucked it from her belt with more difficulty than she could have imagined. The grenade seemed an immense weight in her hand.

Her three squad mates had all been killed by now and she didn't have much longer before she was finished off by the horde of beasts that had so easily overtaken them.

Slowly, with difficulty, she reached over and clutched the pin.

A creature's red snout rose behind the corpse of the one she had killed. Mark Stewart's blood dripped from its jaws.

With a grimace, Boots pulled the pin from the grenade; the metal gave with a slight squeak of protest. She looked the creature in its cold yellow eyes defiantly.

"This is for my squad," she whispered, holding the grenade so the creature could easily see it. In that moment she felt more powerful than she ever had before, even though she was dying on the cold grating of an abandoned freighter light years from her home and birthplace, staring at Death itself. She had found the ultimate rush.

And Private Chastity Jenson of the Ermante Marines, known as Boots to her comrades and Ace to her family, let go of the grenade. It dropped in slow motion, tumbling gently through the air to land on the grating with a soft clink. The grenade rested on its side, rocking slowly, hypnotically.

The creature tilted its head in curiosity.

Then the tiny grenade exploded with all the fury of a miniature supernova.

* * *

"What the fuck is goin' on?" Rokuro demanded as rifle bursts erupted from Delta Squad's position. A shrill scream echoed down the corridor and sent icicles down his spine. The sounds were quick to die off and the passageway was silent. Then the unmistakable sound of a grenade rumbled down the long, empty passageway and the echoes faded away into an impenetrable silence. Rokuro shifted uneasily, and saw his brother double check his rifle. He found himself wishing he had been assigned to Bravo Squad, where he was close to the shuttles, rather than to Charlie Squad, where he was out in the middle of an empty corridor.

Just like Delta Squad.