I could feel my heart racing as we scrambled to take cover, our weapons at the ready. We didn’t have real rifles, just mock ones that fired low-powered lasers to score hits, but they felt real enough in your hands.

  The simulated enemy soldiers were suddenly all around us, and I could hear the sounds of gunfire and explosions coming from every direction.

  I raised my weapon, my fingers trembling with fear and anticipation—and then I fired.

  An enemy soldier hit the ground, his body twitching on the dust. As I looked around, I saw the other marines looking at me with a newfound respect.

  “Who hit that?” Corporal Tench demanded.

  “The scorecard says it was Starn.”

  Tench showed his teeth. “Bullshit. He couldn’t hit a bull’s balls much less a bull’s eye. The computer is off—or Starn is cheating. Are you a cheater, Starn?”

  “Nope.”

  Tench went over the data, and he shook his head. “Okay, so you nailed one,” he admitted at last. “A clean kill. But every noob gets lucky now and then—don’t let it go to your head.”

  We finished the exercise, and as we gathered our things and headed back to the ship, I felt a sense of pride and satisfaction. I might be able to get the hang of this before I died on my first mission.

  As Borag drew closer to Mars, I began to feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. I hadn’t yet proven myself to the other marines, but I felt I had a clue as to what it took to be one of them.

  After another exercise, during which I made an effort to charge the enemy lines first, Sergeant Cox came to talk to me personally.

  “You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you, Starn?” Sergeant Cox demanded, his voice filled with contempt. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, boy. You’re some kind of head-case, right?”

  “I don’t think so, Sergeant.”

  Cox sneered at me. “I know how you weaseled your way in here, preying on the good and kindly nature of Captain Hansen—but that doesn’t mean shit to me. You’re just a D-class Contract. A rock-rat. A nobody who got lucky. You’re going to be paste the first time we deploy—mark my words.”

  “Wooo!” Corporal Tench whooped. “Sarge called it! He’s got an instinct for these things!”

  The rest of the group laughed. I could feel my blood boiling again, but I knew that I had to keep my cool. “Sergeant, I think I showed that I have what it takes to carry this rifle.”

  Cox laughed, and I could feel my frustration growing. “You? A squaddie? Never. You’re nothing but a liability, Starn. You don’t have the training, the skills, or the experience to carry a real gun. You’ll be issued a shock-rod after bootcamp is over with.”

  My mouth sagged open. “A shock-rod?”

  “That’s what I said. Is something wrong with your ears?”

  “No, Sergeant, but—”

  “Shut up. You’re here because everyone in Borag’s security force goes through some training days with Red Company. We’re the only outfit that drills all the time. But you’re destined to be zapping the gonads off one of your former coworkers—at best. Personally, I’d assign you to head-watch.”

  “What’s that?”

  The group laughed again. It was a mean laugh. Corporal Tench walked close and thumped a big hand down on my shoulder. “You know the head is the toilet on a ship, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well then… you figure it out.”

  I frowned, and I did get the idea. These guys had no intention of letting me be a full-fledged marine. They wanted me to join one of the goon squads—enforcers and foremen. The guys who beat on any of the crewmen or contracts that got out of line.

  I turned away, feeling a sense of crushing disappointment. Was I really going to become nothing more than another thug who beat down other men? A bully who cared for nothing but quotas and the ship’s bylaws?

  “Sergeant?” Private Ledbetter said. “With all due respect, I think Starn showed a lot of promise during the exercise. He was able to think on his feet, to make split-second decisions, and to fire accurately in a tough situation.”

  I was stunned. I hadn’t expected any support from Ledbetter. He was a small, wiry fellow with the face of a hound dog and eyes that never seemed to open up all the way.

  Sergeant Cox snorted. “All right, seeing as Ledbetter here is in love with you, I’m placing you in his masterful hands. You’ll practice on targets as a team. If both of you don’t hit the requisite number of kill-shots by next week, you’ll receive demerits and lose a stripe.”

  Ledbetter looked pale. I glanced from him back to Cox.

  “Sergeant…” I said, “I don’t have any stripes to lose. Not yet, anyway. I’ve just got the one.”

  “Oh, that’s right!” Cox said, slamming his palm into his forehead. “Well, as you can see, Ledbetter has three. He’s a private, first class. We’ll have to take two from him.”

  Ledbetter mumbled something, while Corporal Tench released a wicked howl. “Your ass is on the line, Ledbetter!” He laughed uproariously.

  After the rest of the men left us alone at last, I turned toward Ledbetter. “Seems like we should stay late and practice.”

  “You think so, huh? This is what I get for sticking my fucking tongue out—it gets shredded.”

  I squinted, thinking about thanking him for speaking up. Given his mood, I passed on the idea. “Um… you can shoot straight, right?”

  “Not straight enough to fix your score at long range. Come on, rock-rat.”

  Following him to the target room, I spent a few hours plinking away until my eyes were crossing. I got better, but not enough to satisfy Ledbetter’s concerns.

  I had to wonder about Cox and his tactics. Had he set me up with Ledbetter just to harass me—or was he honestly trying to transform me into a better marksman? I wasn’t sure, but either way, it was working. I’d lost a possible buddy and gained an irritable teacher.

  Chapter 4: The Marine

  The marksmanship test was a critical part of our training, and the competition between Private Ledbetter and myself was intense. A short week later, we lined up at the firing range. Honestly, I figured I was going to kick his ass.

  Sergeant Cox stood nearby, his eyes fixed on us as we took aim at the enemy targets. The sound of gunfire filled the air, and I could feel the heat of the laser rifle in my hands.

  I took a deep breath and steadied my aim, squeezing the trigger with precision and care. The target exploded in a burst of sparks and smoke, and I felt a surge of satisfaction.

  But as I looked over at Private Ledbetter, I saw that he had already hit several targets with deadly accuracy. His aim was true, and he moved with a speed and efficiency that left me in awe.

  I gritted my teeth and focused on my own shooting, determined to keep up with him. But as the seconds ticked by, I could feel my focus waning. The pressure was getting to me, and I was struggling to keep up.

  Suddenly, it was over. The sergeant called time, and we lowered our rifles, sweating and gritting our teeth. I looked over at Private Ledbetter, expecting to see him grinning in triumph.

  But to my surprise, he looked just as worried as I did. As Sergeant Cox approached, I could see the look of disappointment in his eyes.

  “Neither of you did well,” he said, shaking his head. “Barely enough enemy targets went down to pass the test. You’ll have to do better next time.”

  I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I hadn’t been kicked out—not yet—and I hadn’t let Ledbetter down. He wasn’t going to be robbed of his hard-won stripes. Still, I knew I needed to work harder if I was going to be pass these performance tests.

  After that day, I redoubled my efforts, training tirelessly and pushing myself to my limits. I was going to be the best marksman I could be.

  After completing our training exercise, I headed for my bunk on the mid-decks. Along the way, I ran into a squad of Red Company regulars coming the other way.

  “There he is,” Corporal Tench growled, pointing at me. “I can’t even believe it.”

  I stopped walking, and I looked at the group. They were sour-faced, one and all.

  “What’s up, guys?” I asked in a neutral tone.

  “As if you don’t know,” Tench said, approaching me with his fists planted on his hips. “You’ve got some nerve. Do you realize how many security men want this post? How many of them have worked for months to earn it?”

  I still had no idea what was going on, but I stood my ground as two privates walked up to stand too close to me. They had their arms folded, and they scowled from my left and my right.

  “You suck at shooting,” Tench said, poking a finger at me.

  I felt like breaking it off—and I probably could have—but I didn’t make a move. Not yet.

  “You suck at everything, because you’re new. Lots of guys have been working shock-rods forever, waiting to get into the marine attachment, and this is—”

  “Wait a second,” I said. “Are you saying I’ve been assigned to Red Company? Officially?”

  Corporal Tench spat on the deck. “No,” he said. “Not until you prove yourself in hand to hand.”

  “What?”

  That’s when the private on his left swung for my face, and the private on my right jabbed at my balls.

  Taken by surprised, I grunted and absorbed both shots. Tench laughed. “Not so tough today, huh? I’m putting this down as a big fat, fail. You’re a loser, Starn. You should just face facts now, and—”

  He stopped his speech, because although my knees were buckling a little, I wasn’t out of the fight. Not yet.

  Both the privates were throwing punches—but you have to understand that the punch of a man born in low-grav feels kind of like when your sister clocks you one. Sure, it hurts, and it pisses you off—but it doesn’t usually have the power behind it to put you out.

  I reached up two thick hands and slammed them together. The two grunting men were so focused on thumping away at my ribcage, they didn’t even see this coming.

  Crack! Their unprotected skulls clacked together. It was an awful sound. Fortunately, I didn’t actually fracture their craniums, but I did scramble their brains pretty good. They staggered back, gasping.

  They wanted to fall to their knees, but I didn’t let them. I reached out those same two ham hock hands of mine and gripped them by their skinny necks. I lifted them up some, and they snarled, ripping at my fingers with their scrawny stick-digits.

  “You fucking animal!” Corporal Tench said, stepping closer. “You’re not getting away with this line-jumping. Just because you diddled the Captain—”

  “Is that what you jokers think?” I said, laughing. “I’ve been working the rocks, boys. Hansen doesn’t go down to the lower decks and slum for the likes of me.”

  The two men in my hands were elbowing me now, and it was becoming uncomfortable, so I gave them a shaking until they stopped. Panting, they glared at me with hate, unable to break my grip on their scrawny chicken-necks.

  Corporal Tench cocked back his fist for a hammer blow, but I stepped closer to him, dragging his two sidekicks. Their heels scraped on the deck.

  “Oh,” I said, “so this is a three-on-one deal, is it? I didn’t understand that.”

  I glared at him, daring him to throw that punch he had simmering over his shoulder—but he never did.

  Instead, he stepped back a pace and showed me his teeth. His hands lowered and straightened his uniform. “Stand down, men.”

  The sudden change of demeanor puzzled me, but then I noticed all three of the men were gazing past me, over my shoulder. I turned and saw Sergeant Cox walking up on my six.

  “Is this some kind of a rescue practice, Corporal?” Cox asked.

  “It’s nothing, Sergeant. Just comradery and high spirits.”

  Cox nodded, unsurprised. “All right, then. Starn, follow me. We’re late for a meeting.”

  I dropped the two squirming privates, who gasped and cursed on the deck in my wake. Brushing past Corporal Tench, I followed Sergeant Cox into his cubby-hole sized office.

  “What can I do for you, Sergeant?”

  Cox smiled at me from behind his desk. He offered me a hand, and I shook it.

  “News travels fast. You’ve been placed under my command as part of Red Company, Starn—but I guess you already know that.”

  “There is a rumor to that effect going around on the decks, sir.”

  Cox whistled, long and low. “You’re a serious piece of work, you know that? The moment Captain Hansen was informed that you’d completed your basic training with acceptable marks, she gave the order to place you under my command. I’m not sure how I feel about that right now.”

  “You’re not going to regret her decision, Sergeant. I’ll serve with distinction. I’ll—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of weird thing is going on between you and her—and I don’t know to know. But whatever it is, you’d best be planning to prove yourself worthy of this amazing jump in position.”

  I tried not to grin, and I almost managed it. “I’ll do my best, Sergeant.”

  He studied me with squinting eyes for a moment or two longer. I just stood at attention and stared straight ahead. I hadn’t been trained to do much yet, but I’d learned that trick at least.

  “All right,” he sighed. “You’re dismissed. Get the hell out here.”

  I turned to walk out, but Cox called me back.

  “Technically, you’re part of Red Company now, Starn. But that isn’t real until the rest of these men accept you. Don’t let those big muscles of yours go to your head. They won’t save you when we’re on deployment, and you catch a bolt with your spine.”

  His words made me blink. I left, thinking them over. Was he saying one of these men—possibly one of the privates I’d just humiliated—might have a targeting error at the worst possible moment?

  Chewing that over, I found I didn’t like the taste. We were going to be living and fighting together in space, after all. Space was all about killing a man. It had a thousand ways to do it, from freezing to roasting, from radiation to streaking meteors no bigger than a marble.

  The last thing a marine needed in such a hostile environment were comrades who wanted to shoot you in the back.

  Chapter 5: Pirates

  After that fateful meeting with Sergeant Cox, I officially joined Red Company, the ship’s marine attachment. It was a surprise to me and to everyone else that I’d been assigned directly to this group. Red Company did the real fighting when things got serious, performing missions such as ground ops and boarding actions. The other groups, including the security enforcers and the foremen, handled smaller matters, policing crewmen and contracts.

  Red Company had dealt with the claim-jumpers we’d faced on the far side of this rich asteroid. It was strange to think that the fact two men had died in that action had greatly benefited me. Captain Hansen had ordered Red Company’s commander to place me in his group precisely because they were down two men.

  Privately, I figured she’d been impressed with the way I’d handled the bandits that had almost killed her. Sometimes, saving an officer’s ass was worth decade of salutes and yessirs.

  When Borag had mined out all the best minerals from the rock under her hull, Captain Hansen called us to a briefing to discuss our next destination.

  I could feel a sense of excitement and anticipation building up inside me as we prepared for a new mission—one where I wasn’t expected to jockey a drill-bot all day.

  “Listen up, everyone,” Captain Hansen said, her voice firm and commanding. “We’ve just received word that three raiders are on their way to these coordinates.”

  There was a lot of muttering at that. “Oh shit…” Sergeant Cox said, and Corporal Tench just went white.

  “How bad is that?” I asked. “It’s real bad, right?”

  “Shut up, you fool,” Ledbetter hissed at me. “Do the math. Three against one is never good.”

  I thought about my meeting with the three men in the passageway the other day, led by Corporal Tench. I guessed it wasn’t like that when you were dealing with ships and counting cannons.

  “That’s right,” Hansen continued. “We’re in trouble. We’re pulling up stakes and hauling ass out of here to deliver this load of ore. Be on alert and ready for anything. Captain out.”

  That was it. We were left grumbling and worrying. Corporal Tench was the most vocal complainer in the group. “Frigging crazy,” he said. “Batshit.”

  “Do you have something constructive to say, Corporal?” Cox demanded.

  “I certainly do, sir. We should dump this load of ore and run. It’s only going to slow us down. What good is a hold full of metal if we’re captured or destroyed?”

  Sergeant Cox formed a tight line with his lips. “That’s not our place to decide, Corporal. Now, kindly shut the hell up and listen to your instructions.”

  The sergeant gave us all posts and duties. They mostly amounted to standing watch at key sections of the ship. I didn’t see what the point to all that was.

  Ledbetter tried to explain it to me. “These ships on our tail—they’re raiders. They’ll try to catch up to us. If they can do it, they’ll demand that we surrender.”

  “Why would we do that?” I laughed. “Isn’t this ship bigger than some raider? Can’t our boys down on the gunnery deck shoot straight?”

  Ledbetter nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, we could fight, but once you start a shooting war in space, things get nasty very fast. We’ll probably be disabled, while they’ll lose one or two of their ships. Then, when they come aboard—they’ll be pissed.”

  I thought about that, and I frowned deeply. “Motivated by revenge for their friends, huh?”

  “Exactly. If had to guess, it will go one of two ways. Either we’ll outrun them, or they’ll get close, and we’ll dump our ore. It’s a rich load. The pirates will probably be tempted to stop and pick up the easy stuff.”

  My heart sank. I’d been counting on my share of that ore. I no longer had big debts to pay back—or at least, not as big, but I wasn’t exactly rich, either. Everyone aboard Borag needed that payout.