Date Point: January 23, 2437

Unity Station

Pan Asian Coalition Security Council

Seven of the most powerful people in Terran space looked at the holodeck in front of them with grim faces. A Senate war fleet approached the linchpin of PAC power in the Outer Rim. Long Kou was home to the single largest station beyond the Iron Belt. If it was lost then there would be no counteroffensive.

“What is the status of the 2nd Coalition fleet?”

“72% of all ships are accounted for,” a general said bringing up a new projection, “this includes all four Dragon class dreadnaughts and eight battleships. The overall strength of the fleet numbers at 666 ships.”

Zhang Fei rubbed the bridge of his nose, “please tell me my son did not reduce the number of ships under his command based on superstition.”

“Moral is important for the men, if they believe that number is special then they will make it special.”

“Fine, what is the word from the 7th Han fleet and 8th route army?”

“Admiral Yamamoto is on route, she will arrive within the week, the 8th, for the most part, is already in the system.”

“Is there any word from the United Nations?” one of the men asked hopefully.

Another general shook his head, “Other than their ‘thoughts and prayers?’ they will not send us aid. This will be another challenge we face alone.”

“Very well, see to it that the men understand the importance of this conflict. For if we fail to stop it here and now, billions more shall perish.”

____________________________________________________________________________

“Prepare for docking in ten, nine, eight…” Oscar flicked through his HUD, noting the various distances between him, the other men of Bravo Company, and the much larger distance between him and Outlook on Forever station.

“You ever been to Outlook?” Captain Bryce asked, he was the company commander and a veteran of the 13th Afro-American war.

“Yeah, it’s one of the few populated human stations this far out. Most people transit from here to the outer rim worlds.” The airlock opened and they entered the docking hanger where the rest of Bravo company was waiting. Eighty-one marines stood in straight ranks chatting to each other over the comms channels.

Bryce turned to Oscar, “hit the channel override for me will ya?”

He nodded and scrolled through his holodeck before pressing a big red button, “right ladies, we’ll be on Outlook stations for a few weeks while engineering gets the Warp engines recalibrated. So go get some R&R, but stay in armor if you’re on duty. Do not forget what the situation looks like out there, humanity is at war. Dismissed.”

The Mistral shuddered and the airlocks cycled open. The sounds of bustling men and women emanated from the bay, they walked off the ship, followed shortly after by the three dozen survivors. The four CC’s gathered together before heading off to one of the many bars. Oscar flagged the barkeeps, “did you guys finally get the FTL coms network connected to here?”

“Yep, we got the Hermes network linked up just a few months ago. I’ll send you the directions if you want them.”

“I would appreciate that,” Oscar said.

Andrew elbowed him, “going off to talk to the Miss?”

“Mostly to deposit credits,” he shrugged, “but it wouldn’t hurt to have a real-time conversation.” His deck buzzed and he pulled up the directions.

“I’ll text you if we get thrown out of here,” Andrew said and one of the other CC’s, a somewhat chubby man of Latino descent named Carlos scoffed.

“More like you’ll get thrown out and we’ll have to take care of you.”

Oscar snorted, “still can’t hold your drink, Drewski?”

“At least I don’t giggle like a schoolgirl.” he retorted, red-faced. Oscar grinned at him and walked out of the bar. He followed the deck’s instructions till he wound up in front of a pretty receptionist.

She smiled at him and motioned him forward, “Hello, how may I help you?”

“Can I make a deposit to Ironwood Finances from here?” she tapped her deck for several minutes, “yes you can, is there anything else?”

“Is Atlas station still connected?” he asked hopefully.

She waited a couple of seconds and when he didn’t continue she asked, “Which Atlas station is this?”

“Oh sorry, Atlas Station in the Vraks system.”

“Yes it is, will that be all?” he nodded and she handed him a card, “Go to terminal 25 and scan this card.”

He thanked her and walked over to the terminal, he pressed the card against the screen and it beeped at him. Ironwood Finances was owned by the Slaters, it was where close to thirty percent of their wealth was stored.

“Hello Mr. Irons,” a voice said and the account he shared with Stephanie opened. “19,843,000 credits.”

Oscar raised a brow, “huh, looks like she’s been hard at work.”

“Withdraw 200,000.” he typed, then frowned when a message popped up onto the screen.

“Access Denied, you do not have permission to transact with this account.”

“Then why the fuck did you let me in?” with a sigh, he closed out of the account and dialed up Stephanie. It rang for close to a minute before someone picked up. There, in all her multicolored glory, wearing her usual white cropped wide, broad-tailed jacket and short dress. Stephanie scowled at the screen.

“If you don’t pay up, then I’ll start taking off more than just fingers.” she snarled and he noticed the blood splatters on her face. “Well, anything to say?”

“Uhhhh, hey babe?” Oscar asked, “can you turn the holo on?”

“What, so you can ogle at me again? I don’t thi-” she gasped, “Oscar?”

“Last time I checked yeah.”

“Finally built up the courage to call me in real-time?” she grinned, trying to wipe the blood off her face, but only managing to smear it even more. She waved her hand and a couple of men dragged several half-beaten to death men away from her.

“Your father sent assassins after me last time he found out I was calling you!”

“And you are still alive are you not?”

“Barely!”

She huffed, crossing her arms, “you whine too much, so hon’ why’d you call me?”

“What can’t I call my girlfriend when I want?”

“You’re working in the ass-end of space and neither of us has that much free time so either you’re horny again or you want something.”

“Could be both,” he shrugged, “well I just wanted to check up on you, see how the family is holding up and if your old man’s dropped dead yet.”

“Right,” she said rolled her eyes, “the last few weeks have been tougher than normal. On one hand, the Belt Barons have been driving their workers like dogs, with the whole removing labor laws thing. It’s given us a lot of opportunities to swoop in and make a quick buck. But on the other hand, the draft is causing us manpower shortages.”

“They removed the labor laws?” Oscar asked with concern.

“You heard me, the UN wants new warships out on the frontlines within two years. That means removing safety, health, and labor laws. Or at least that’s what the barons are saying, workplace casualties have skyrocketed and belters are getting pissed. Angry people mean more people who want drugs, guns, or just basic commercial goods. You know how it is.”

‘I get it, you just stay safe ok?” she opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by her holo. She glanced at it, “One second Oscar.”

“YOU DUMB SLUT!!” a voice roared, “YOU KEEP YOUR WHORE FINGERS OFF MY KIDS!”

Stephanie giggled, “my oh my, it seems that someones in a bad mood. Seeing as it's your kids tied up in front of me, I suggest you start being a tad more respectful. Or I’ll be returning them back to you in pieces and we wouldn’t want that would we?”

“P-p-p-please don’t hurt them.” the voice stuttered.

“My good sir, that will be all up to you. If you comply then nothing bad will happen, but if you don’t…” she paused, “well let’s just hope that you do, it’ll be easier for both of us.” sobbing could be heard coming from both the holodeck at her hip and from in front of her.

“Wha- what do you want?”

“Hmmm that is a loaded question, how about galactic peace and a cookie.”

The line was silent for close to a minute. “Oh god I just want my children back.” the man wailed. Oscar felt bad for a moment but squashed the emotion, people like him. The Belt Barons ruled over their systems and planets like gods. The planets their workers lived on were irradiated, polluted, and barely habitable. They didn’t allow any travel out of the belt and rarely paid livable wages or allow commercial goods into their lands. Billions toiled under their disregarding eye.

“Oooh, I know! How about you and the TerraGen group let me and mine sell commercial goods on your planets?”

“I can’t do that!” the man said hysterically, “the shareholders will lynch me.”

Stephanie tilted her head, “hear that kids, you’re pa’s more concerned about the money than you lot.” She turned back to the holo, “in that case, I’ll start with the oldest one, he doesn’t need both legs.” there was a bang and panicked screaming.

“You’re sadistic!”

“Eh, probably.” Oscar thought. He could see the glint in her eye as she grinned into the camera.

“Right let’s try that again shall we?”

“I’ll do it!” he said quickly.

“Good,” Stephanie purred, “Your kids shall be returned to you upon completion.”

She waved her hand and the call ended, squatting down to face the three kids she said, “My apologies children, I hadn’t expected him to argue.”

The three kids came into view, a boy of around fifteen and two girls who appeared to be twins. They shied away from her and the boy placed himself in front of the girls. None of them seemed to be injured but there was a neat hole in the deck beside the boy.

“Now, now, I won’t hurt you. How about you three go with that man over there.” they scrambled away from her and she brushed the hem of her dress,

“Sorry about that.” she said smiling at Oscar, “so was there something else you wanted to talk about?”

“Yeah, seems like I can’t access our bank account anymore…” he trailed off, “would you have anything to do with that?”

“Of course, I froze your access,” she said matter of factly. Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Can I ask why?”

“You can,” she smirked.

Oscar sighed, “Fine, why did you freeze my account?”

“Because I want you to come home.”

“What! You could have just asked you know?”

“That is what I am doing now.”

“So what about Dylan, has he changed his mind?”

“No.” she sighed, “Father’s words were and I quote, ‘If I ever see that little shit again, I’ll castrate him with a shoehorn.’”

“Then why would you ask me?” Oscar took a deep breath, “ok, I’ll try to come home. But it’ll be a couple of weeks. I just signed on with a new crew, and I need to complete my contract. After that, I’ll go straight back to Atlas ok?”

She nodded happily, “Ok.”

“Right, I’m going to end the call now, love you.” she blew him a kiss and he ended the call. “At least she hasn’t forgotten me yet.”

After the call Oscar went back to the bar where Andrew was already piss drunk, Carlos was singing in Spanish, and the third CC named Riley was playing the knife game. One of the bouncers walked over to him, “Are they with you?”

Oscar had half a mind to say no and leave but he didn’t, “yeah, sorry if they’re causing trouble. I’ll get them back on the ship.”

“See that you do, I would do it myself but they're all in powered armor and I’d rather not have my head caved in.”

He walked over to Riley, “Hey, dude over there said we had to leave, go grab Carlos and pay his tab.”

“Aww, we got kicked out?”

“Eyup,” he said and grabbed the handle on the back of Andrew’s armor. It was normally used for dragging wounded behind cover but worked just fine pulling drunks out of bars. Oscar dragged him back into the ship and set him down on the ground inside the airlock.

“You are not my problem anymore.” he huffed before walking back into the station.

The next day an American task force arrived, seven frigates, two destroyers, and a single light cruiser. Oscar watched on from inside the bridge where he sat behind one of the communications consoles. Michael frowned looking at the fleet, “Intel, what’s with the new deployment?”

“It’s part of the new containment plan, as Outlook is very close to Dawlish space the UN has decided to place small task forces around the outer rim.”

Nodding he turned to another man, “How long until the warp engines are fixed?”

“Another day and a half should just about do it. It’s mostly transportation that's the issue, they have to move the parts all the way from storage.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Li Ming Tao strapped himself into his harness, trying to ignore what was to come. They were inside a massive rail gun, pointed at the sky. Yes, it was by far the fastest and cheapest way into orbit and beyond but also the most nerve-racking. If the inertial dampeners failed then every living thing inside would be turned into chunky salsa.

“Relax man.” Zeng said elbowing him in the rib, “one of these things hasn’t failed in over a century we’ll be fine.”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t fail.” he hissed.

Zeng shrugged, “And if it does, it won’t be our problem anymore. We’ll be dead in a microsecond. I’d feel worse for the poor saps who’d have to clean the container up.”

“Knock it off,” Zeng’s sister, Ren Zhen hissed, “Li if you’re feeling nervous you can always hold my hand.”

“It’s alright,” he said, not seeing the disappointment flash across her face. “When do we launch?”

Zeng looked at his holo, “about thirty seconds ago, told you there’s nothing to worry about.”

Li ignored him, pulling up a schematic of the Tian Gong (palace of heaven roughly) station. It was the largest in the outer rim with close to ten thousand kilometers of deck space. Once upon a time, it had been the sole defense platform that protected the billions of inhabitants below but as Long Kou grew in importance, so had its defense infrastructure, and Tian Gong was converted into a trade station and a shipyard.

“What are you looking at?” Ren Zehn asked, leaning her head into his shoulder. Zeng shook his head in disgust and turned away, watching a movie on his holo.

“Just looking at the layout of the station so we don’t get lost when we’re there,” he said looking at the clock, two days and seven hours until arrival. “Eh I’ve got plenty of time, you wanna play a game?”

____________________________________________________________________________

Alarms blared as Oscar rolled out of bed, “Fucking hell what now?”

He scrambled out of his room, he ran headfirst into a marine in full armor, “what’s going on?”

“One of the frigates just detected jump drive signatures, we’re at battle stations now so go get your kit on.”

Oscar nodded, sprinting into the armory. It was jam-packed with half armored marines, he quickly found an armorer and started preparing his suit. Captain Bryce strolled in already geared. “Listen up retards! At 0600 the American frigate USS Dudley picked up fifteen jump drive signatures. Later those signatures were identified as a Dawlish destroyer group, therefore we can assume they are not here to kiss and make up. To make matters worse, we are currently without a warp drive. That means we can not leave the system and will be destroyed if ET finds us. Fortunately, we can safely assume that they will not destroy us outright, they want the tech on our ship and will most likely try a boarding operation. If 616 fails to neutralize the threat our job is to defend the Mistral and the route to the storage so that engineering has time to fix the ship. Any questions?”

No one raised their hands, they all knew what they needed to do. “Capital, the first order of business is to create emplacements along major corridors and passages. Engineering will be helping us out on that front. I want Alpha Company to spread out and cover the airlocks, booby trap them if you have to.”

“Hah, he said trap.” Oscar snorted.

“Bravo company will help the nut-heads build us some defensible positions, now get your asses out there and try not to get shot. If you do, try to get killed.” That last comment drew some dark chuckles. If someone got injured then their contract said that the crew would pay for their recovery but if someone was KIA then there was no legal obligation anymore.

The armorer rapped his knuckles against his helmet and gave him a thumbs-up, Oscar returned the gesture and stomped out of the door. 83 marines filed into the hangar and split into fireteams. One of the engineering teams waved Oscar over, “you three come with me. We’re going to weld these composite plates to the bulkheads between intersections.”

For the next twelve hours, Oscar and the two other marines along with the five engineers fused five-inch thick composite plates to the bulkheads and created barriers and funnels. The plates themselves were a feat of human engineering. Specifically designed for shipboard defense, they were light, sturdy, and only bulletproof on one side so as to not allow the enemy the same cover if a position was overrun. “No, you ape, the other side! Turn it around you idiot!”

“You do it then!” he shot in annoyance.

“I’m trying to help!” the engineer shouted in exasperation.

“So am I!” the equally exasperated marine shouted back. Oscar shook his head and turned his attention back to his work. They were creating a makeshift bunker at one of the major cross-sections where four corridors met. Several foot thick plates were stuck to the deck and large-caliber machine guns and active protection systems were placed everywhere. Throughout the station, half a dozen other such bunkers were under construction and over the TacLink, he could see that the Dawlish fleet was closing in. Most of the civilian ships had already left and the only ones remaining, three other mercenary ships that had also been undergoing repairs had decided to stay and fight, rather than give up their ships.

The task force had decided to back away, lying in ambush for when the mercenary ships had finished repairs and were ready to leave. Then they would come out and attack, giving them enough time to get out safely before backing off.

Altogether close to a thousand mercenaries guarded the station. However, only the crew of the Mistral was wearing advanced and expensive armor. The other marines, part of a three-ship convoy, wore for the most part. Much simpler ballistic EVA suits and armed with cheap sabot rifles.

“Listen up, get to your assigned positions at the airlocks. We are only trying to hold on long enough for our ships to get repaired so don’t be a fucking hero and pull back when we give the order, got it?” confirmation signals lit up from all across Oscar’s HUD.

“Oscar stay next to me,” Andrew said, “we’re not planetside so there’s really no need for us to be split up.”

He nodded and they followed one of the fireteams to their first stage of defense. It was one of the six massive airlocks that mining ships used to load cargo. Six more men from the Mistral and two dozen from the other ships milled around doing last-minute checkups.

“Ahh, this reminds me of the Atlantis ambush,” Andrew said taking in the view, “Four thousand US marines trapped in a station, fighting off forty thousand Africans. It’s only when bullets are flying over your head every minute of the day do you realize how strong the need to beat off gets.”

Every head in the area turned to him, “what?” he looked around at them then swore, “fuck that was on speaker wasn’t it.”

“Andrew, you are one strange man.” a sergeant said his IFF read Varus, shaking his head, “right lads, time to earn our pay. For those that didn’t hear the plan, we’re to engage ET just long enough for them to activate their shields. Then we back off and hit them whenever they try to turn their shields off, try not to set off any of the traps and we’ll be fine.”

Oscar knelt down behind the bulkhead and did a final systems check, “Four frag grenades, two gravity grenades, eight mags, knife, and revolver. That’s everything.”

“Hey, guys?” one of the marines grinned.

“What is it, Malone?”

“Who here wants to bet that Oz pisses himself five minutes in?”

“Pfff how much are we betting ‘cuz I bet two hundred creds’ he’s not making it past the three-minute mark.” another marine said.

Andrew turned to take a look at him, “I’ll take you up on that, in fact, I’ll pay each of you 1000 credits that he makes it back to the ship without a scratch on his body.”

“Drewski you’re crazy, look at the kid. He’s never seen real combat in his life.”

“Enemy incoming, one minute out, observe radio silence.” the sergeant said and the channel fell dead instantly. Oscar braced his rifle against the bulkhead and selected full-auto, his suit beeped and relayed all its data back to the Mistral. On the other side of the station, fighting had already broken out and gunfire echoed down the halls. The airlock shook, shuddered, and hissed. The seal cracked open less than an inch and white smoke billowed out. The TacLink showed an unknown number of contacts inside the impenetrable fog. A black dot flew out of the hole and alarms flashed across the overlay.

“GRENADE!”

Less than a millisecond before the grenade exploded Oscar’s suit deafened and blinded him before returning full sensory control back. The two dozen marines not wearing powered armor had both hands over their ears and several lay on the deck motionless.

The airlock slammed open and the smoke gushed out, covering the entire entrance in less than a second. Gritting his teeth Oscar turned on his active scanners, the suit gave him a 3 view of the intersection. Forty squat ET’s rushed out into the station, Oscar opened fire, red tracers cutting a swath through the smoke, the pressure wave from each shot pushing it back. The rounds exploded several feet from the closest Dawlish fighter in a crackle of blue lighting.

“They got shields.”

He quickly changed his ammo to specialized shield breaker rounds, they wouldn’t do jack shit against ballistic armor but they were a man’s best chance against alien shields. Sabot rounds puffed to dust and the marines were quickly forced back. As they ran out of cover, the Dawlish opened fire. Hellish beams of purple cut men in half and splashed against the bulkheads.

“We need to punch through those shields!” A marine screamed pulling out a grenade. Andrew noticed this and lunged at him.

“DON’T THRO-'' he roared but it was too late, a blue grav grenade sailed through the smoke and stopped short. Its momentum reversed and it rocketed back before detonating. Everything around it, guns, ammo, deck, and worst of all the woman who had thrown the thing were sucked into a tiny sphere of metal and organic material. For half a second the ball hovered a few feet from the deck before exploding outwards. The explosion rocked the deck and the overpressure blew a massive hole in the station. Air rocketed outwards sucking three men and half a dozen ET’s out with it. Shrapnel pelted every surface and punched smaller holes into the corridor. Oscar’s arm shot out clamping a hand to Andrew’s helmet, keeping him from being sucked out as well.

He heaved back, the motors in his arms straining to pull him from the vacuum of space, “Do not fucking let go!” Andrew screamed, still firing at the ET’s. One of their numbers turned its attention to the two of them. Oscar found himself facing the gaping maw of a Dawlish belcher and he gulped yanking Andrew back behind cover just as the xeno opened fire. Its purple plasma flashed against the shoulder cauldron of his armor and his suit groaned in protest.

“Pull back to Alpha Mark!” a green dot appeared on the TacLink and Oscar raced backward, turned the corner, and hurdled over the defensive emplacements, racking the bolt on the massive 20mm cannon.

“Do you know how to use that thing?” A marine asked, he shrugged, “I played with one on a sim yesterday. How hard could it be?”

Explosions rattled the station as the Dawlish marines walked arrogantly through anti-personnel mines. They knew just as well as the humans that those mines wouldn’t have any appreciable effect. But it did force them to keep their shields online the entire time, draining their finite battery life and putting stress on the components.

The magnetic clamps in his boots activated and Oscar braced his entire body on the cannon, its targeting reticle appearing as a bright red dot on his HUD. The aliens stopped just behind the corner and one of them threw another grenade around it. Oscar ignored it, trusting that his suit and put a finger on the trigger. The flashbang went off and the Dawlish rushed around the corner. He waited till they were all around the corner before holding down on the trigger. The cannon roared to life, its muzzle flashes lit up the corridor like a star. The gun jumped in his hands its tripod mount tearing from the deck, only being held down by the weight and power of his suit. Downrange the effect was devastating, the already weakened shields gave way after the first few rounds, and where moments ago there had been thirty stubby red aliens, all that remained was essentially ground beef and a fine pink mist that wafted into the air before being sucked away by the air recycler.

Oscar fell flat on his ass, giddy as a schoolgirl. Andrew looked over at the blood-smeared wall and the dozens of bullet holes that riddled it. Shaking his head he said, “Well Oscar, you just fired off twenty thousand credits of depleted uranium ammo. How’s it feel?”

He gave a lazy thumbs up, still lying on the ground, “I couldn’t care less that was fucking awesome!”

“Get on your feet you maggots, this is just starting.” Varus sighed pointing at Oscar, “Check that things belt, make sure you have enough ammo, that’s your new weapon now. Everyone else, restock from those crates and for the love of God, do not throw another grenade or I will personally tear your man hymen!”

Oscar looked around his TacLink, noting that all the fighting was taking place on the other side of the station, and began to inspect the cannon. Around him, marines field stripped rifles and took short breaks to eat and drink.

“Looks like Ozzy boy hasn't’ pissed himself yet.” Malone said waggling his eyebrows, another marine grunted, “Yet, he’s still got plenty of time.”

“Hey screw you, if it weren’t for me we’d all be dead.”

“Eh, I can operate one of those.” he shrugged, Andrew cuffed him over the head, “so can half the nut heads, you ain’t special Malone.”

“Hah, your mother said I was pretty special last night.”

“What is up with everyone on this ship and Andrew’s mom?” Oscar thought, shaking his head. He slammed the cover closed on the cannon and sat down, “So how much longer before engineering gets the warp engine online?”

“At their current pace, eight hours but that’s definitely going to change as we move more guys to the front.”

An uncomfortable silence fell and Oscar opened his holo and started writing up a letter to Stephanie. A few incredibly, mind-numbingly boring hours later the silence was shattered by a huge explosion that could be felt from every corner of the ship. Eight more explosions rang out and all the lights cut out, plunging the station into darkness.

“What the hell just happened?” someone demanded over the command channel.

“ET just cut off all power to the station, looks like they’re going to try and gas us out in the dark while the gravity’s off. Turn on active scanners and make sure your suits are sealed up properly, Intel out.”

Sergeant Varus echoed the command to the men, the ones without powered armor turned on floodlights and headlamps while the marines from the Mistral simply pushed a button and a 3D model of the corridor blazed to life on their HUD’s. Andrew tapped Oscar on the shoulder and said, “Let me check your seals.”

He nodded and scooted over, Andrew’s armored gloves roamed over his armor before grunting, “You’re good, just don’t take off the helmet and you’ll be fine.”

“No shit,” Oscar said and started to check Andrew, his armor was peppered with shrapnel that left dent’s and punctures all across the outermost layer of his suit but didn’t affect its function. “You’re clear, there’s some superficial damage on the surface but you should have already known that.”

“Yeah, I got it right h-” he cut off as their suit alarms went off, Oscar spun around. The TacLink tracked a dozen red holographic figures as they raced down the corridor. He slid over to the 20mm and undid the safety. From another direction, a dozen new contacts appeared attempting to flank around the defensive fortifications. That was one of the main drawbacks of using active sensors, it allowed a user to see everything around it, but also worked the other way around as well. The two groups converged on the Terran’s before stopping just out of effective range. Oscar tensed up and he could hear the creaking and muttered curses from the other nervous men.

“Something isn’t right, there should be more of them.” Andrew hissed, looking around. Oscar’s world exploded, the deck below him erupted upwards bathing the corridor in harsh yellow light. A dozen friendly signatures winked out in an instant and he was sent flying through a bulkhead. The ET’s rushed from both corridors and twenty of them floated in through the tear in the deck. He reached for his rifle only to find it a melted mess of slag. His suit beeped and he whirled around just in time to catch the Dawlish knife hurtling towards his chest. The blade stopped several inches from the seam in his helmet. Oscar curled his fingers together, crushing the alien's arm in an instant. It writhed in pain letting out silent screams that he could make out through its transparent helmet. The two orange eyes shut in pain, its face locked in a grimace. For a moment, Oscar noted that it looked almost human. That thought didn’t stop him from pulping its head against the nearest bulkhead, leaving a red smear on it.

He held the corpse close to his body with one hand, using it as a human shield. The other reached to his side and upholstered his sidearm. The same trusty revolver that had saved his life just the other week. Pulling back the hammer he pushed off back into the corridor. In such close proximity, shields were rendered useless and the fighting had devolved into a frantic close-quarters bloodbath. Terran’s and Dawlish alike let loose with their weapons with little regard for friendly fire or overpenetration. Bullet holes riddled the walls, the noise from their guns more felt than heard, and muzzle flashes momentarily illuminating the corridor.

After less than thirty seconds, the fighting stopped as ET was beaten back. The surviving Dawlish fighters scrambling away, the human marines too tired and shocked to follow them. Oscar quickly reloaded his revolver and shoved his shot-up meat shield away.

The air had long since been sucked out of the station causing blood to evaporate. That left in most cases, nearly pristine corpses to float about like statues with neat little holes and cuts. However in the fighting, several bodies had been rendered mangled beyond recognition, limbs held on by flaps of tissue so thin that they would have never stayed together in gravity.

A quick glance at his HUD showed more than half of the mercenaries dead and with them two of the marines from the Mistral. “Check the wounded and prepare to move out, we can’t hold this area anymore.” Varus said before turning to Andrew and Malone, “we can’t let those suits fall into their hands, you know what to do.”

Andrew saluted and floated over to the bodies, he grabbed one of them and carried it to the tear in the deck. He pressed some buttons on his holo and the suit ceased up, electricity crackling and arcing across its surface. He muttered some words of prayer and pushed the body out the hole and into the void. The other body followed moments later, Andrew and Malone pushed off the deck and glided away.

“Come on, we gotta keep moving,” Malone said without a hint of the cheerful teasing that was in his voice earlier.