We were left in a tense silence, the only sound being the quiet whirring of the ship’s engines and the distant hum of working systems. The weight of what had just been discussed hung heavy in the air. The possibility that we could be boarded by ruthless pirates and taken as prisoners was a terrifying thought.

  Private Ledbetter was still standing across from me. His face was set in a grim line, and I could tell he was deep in thought. We were both relatively new to Red Company, and neither of us had faced a situation like this before. It was a sobering reminder of the dangers involved in signing a contract to serve as a space marine.

  I took a deep breath and tried to push my fears aside. I had to focus on the task at hand and be ready to fight if necessary. It was our duty as marines to protect the ship and her crew, and I was going to do my part.

  We waited in silence for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes in reality. Finally, the intercom crackled to life, and Commander Kaine’s voice boomed through the speakers.

  “Red Company, prepare for possible boarding action. Check your weapons and gear, and get into position. We don’t know what’s going to happen, so be ready for anything.”

  I felt a surge of adrenaline as I checked my rifle and made sure my gear was secure. We all knew what was at stake, and we were prepared to fight to the death if necessary.

  As we waited for the pirates to board, I couldn’t help but think about what Commander Kaine had said earlier. We didn’t know what kind of ship the pirates were flying, and we didn’t know what kind of weapons they had. It was a gamble to hold our fire, but it was a risk we had to take.

  We were like coiled springs, ready to unleash our fury on anyone who dared to threaten our ship and her crew.

  Suddenly, the ship jolted as the raiding ships made contact. The intercom crackled again, and Commander Kaine’s voice came through loud and clear.

  “All front-line defenders, prepare to engage the enemy! Let’s show these pirates what we’re made of!”

  Chapter 7: The Boarding Party

  The pirate had a tall, lanky frame with elongated features that looked almost alien. His skin was a pale gray, and his eyes were large and black, almost insect-like. He wore a sleek, black jumpsuit that clung tightly to his body, emphasizing his thin, wiry frame. In his hand, he held a high-tech pistol that gleamed menacingly in the dim light of the cargo hold. The weapon appeared to be a fusion of organic and mechanical components, with pulsing blue lights and complex circuitry etched into the metal. The pirate’s fingers curled around the grip of the pistol, and as he aimed it at his target, the weapon emitted a low hum, as if it were alive and eager to be fired.

  It was kind of weird, seeing the pirate displayed on the wall. He and his kind weren’t in combat with Red Company—not yet. They were invading the airlocks, breaking down our outermost defenses with ease.

  To be fair, Borag had not been designed with the purpose of repelling boarding parties. The ship was primarily a mining rig. An exploratory vessel designed to find metals, leach them out of large rocks, and return them home to Earth.

  As the human population of our home star system grew, free and easily available sources of rare minerals became harder to get. Someone along the way had figured out it was easier to steal from the hard labor of others than it was to go out and find your own claim and mine it to the fullest.

  Over recent decades some mining ships had mutinied and become pirates. In addition, there were rival corporations that sometimes masqueraded as pirates to avoid prosecution back home on Earth. These rival ships—whether being true outlaws, or the competition in disguise—were ever increasing in number across the Solar System.

  From the look of this rat-like fellow on the screen in front of me, I calculated that he was indeed an honest-to-God, outlaw pirate from the far corners of our star system. He didn’t look like the kind of ruffian that would get hired by earthbound companies to perform this kind of theft. In addition to his appearance, his bold, almost desperate approach pegged him as a genuine pirate. Borag was an armed and capable rig in her own right. The fact these scumbags had dared to tangle with us proved they were truly desperate thieves.

  Ships like Borag were thoroughly prepared for this kind of situation, but the outcome was still in doubt. Yes, Borag had marines. Yes, she had defensive guns. But no, we didn’t have entrances built for combat, the way they built them on true warships. The airlocks on a cruiser from Earth’s defense forces would be nearly impossible to break into with sheer brute force. Such vessels were armored and could be sealed with an external access that was so perfectly smooth and well-machined, it was difficult to even find the crack around the entrance hatch.

  There were many other differences as well. Borag was designed to facilitate work, for the most part, to allow crew members and contracts easy access to the guts of the big vessel. There were emergency access buttons right on the outside of the hull, and even secondary methods of entry—such as pull levers and explosive bolts—all designed to make it easier to get in or out of the ship in the case of an emergency. So, unlike a true warship, Borag was rather easy to break into.

  “Look at that freak! Just look at him!” Sergeant Cox urged us. “He’s nothing. He’s got a skinny pistol, and even skinnier arms—they’re like toothpicks. Hell, I bet Starn over there could break him across his knee like a piece of graphite.”

  The marines flickered a smile and glanced at me. Obligingly, I flexed and grinned back. They laughed. Sergeant Cox was bolstering morale, and we all knew it, but it was still working.

  A moment later however, the still shot of the pirate transformed, shifting into video. Our smiles faded as we watched a full-on firefight in the passages.

  Our foreman and police troops looked more like sheltering civilians than soldiers. They hid behind a hastily erected barricade of tumbled containers and barrels, firing a shower of bolts from the laser pistols they’d been issued.

  Flying in the opposite direction were dozens of return laser bolts. Splashes of energy and burn marks were all over the passageway walls. Lights were knocked out, and spots of molten metal sparked. Those hotspots burned and ran like wax until they hardened again to a deep reddish-gray color, with a fine coat of ash forming over each melted spot.

  We watched, wincing and shouting encouragement. We dared to hope Green Company would hold despite their inexperience, lack of equipment, and obvious fear to expose themselves to enemy fire. For a while, they did fine.

  “They should have given them rifles,” Private Ledbetter exclaimed, holding his weapon up.

  We all carried short-range laser carbines, the usual weapon used by Red Company recruits. The laser carbine was designed for ship defense. It was a compact, short-barreled weapon with a sleek and minimalist design. It worked best in tight corridors and cramped spaces, which were all normal environments on any spacecraft.

  The weapon was made from lightweight alloys with reinforced composites used to reduce its overall weight. The grips were ergonomically designed to provide maximum comfort and control.

  The gun emitted a focused beam of energy that could penetrate through armor and vaporize flesh on contact. It was highly accurate, with a targeting system that could lock onto moving targets with ease. With its built-in power cell and an additional port for extra juice, just one of these guns could fire several hundred shots before needing a recharge.

  I’d been told about, but not yet practiced with, a variety of tactical attachments. These included a holographic sight for improved aiming, a suppressor for stealth operations, and a flashlight for low-light conditions. The weapon could also be fitted with a bayonet for close-quarters combat.

  Ledbetter spoke up again. “Just think what Green Company could do with some real weapons.”

  “Weapons like ours cost money and require training, Ledbetter,” Sergeant Cox admonished him. “Accounting always knows best, you know that. So shut the hell up—right now.”

  “Yes, Sergeant!”

  As we prepared to defend our ship and our crew, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of apprehension and unease, knowing that the next few moments would be critical in determining the outcome of this deadly encounter.

  We gritted our teeth as more invasions were attempted at other airlocks. Our special mission now seemed more clear.

  At first, I couldn’t figure out why we’d been assigned to standing around outside the bridge. If the enemy were coming in the door, why not hit them right there with everything we had?

  The problem was, Borag had many doors. Three of them were under heavy attack, right now. If one of those defensive lines crumbled, the boarders could race straight to the most critical regions and capture the ship. If we lost control of our weapons, helm or engines—the ship would be captured.

  So, we bided our time, watching and cursing. In the end, it was the first defensive line to be hit that collapsed. Perhaps it was only a matter of time until they all did.

  “Red Company, 1st Squad,” Commander Kaine’s voice sounded in my ears. “We’ve got a breach at airlock 11. Sergeant Cox, you are hereby ordered to reinforce the defenders and push back the intruders. Move out!”

  Following our sergeant, it felt good to be moving at last. All of this waiting around and sweating had been nerve-wracking. At least now, we would be doing our part.

  Sergeant Cox led the charge, yelling out orders and marking targets on our tactical displays. Inside my helmet, one of the advancing skinnies was lit up with a red triangle. I lifted my weapon—but before I could release a flurry of bolts, Corporal Tench shoved my barrel down.

  “You’re aiming too close to those Green-company wounded,” he shouted at me. “Follow me, we’ll go around to the cross-passage and hit them in the butt.”

  We flanked the pirates from the left, while Private Ledbetter covered the right side. The passageways were narrow, and the pirates had taken cover behind the cargo containers and makeshift barricades.

  1st Squad was well-trained—with the exception of myself. Our laser carbines flooded the passages with hundreds of bolts. There was nowhere to hide, and what little cover they had was soon shredded and smoking.

  The carbines definitely helped, proving to be superior to the pirates’ pistols. We aimed carefully and fired in short bursts, taking out the enemy one by one. The pirates fought back fiercely, but they were clearly outmatched. They went down, only scoring a few glancing hits on our armored jackets.

  Sergeant Cox led the final advance, shouting out a battle cry, and the rest of the marines followed his lead. We pushed the pirates back, step by step, until they were forced to retreat back through Airlock 11. We pursued them, firing and throwing a volley of grenades.

  Finally, the last of the invaders were taken down. We surveyed the damage, our adrenaline still pumping. Private Ledbetter grinned and slapped me on the back.

  “Good job, man,” he said. “We really showed them what their guts look like, didn’t we?”

  Then Sergeant Cox gave him a shove from behind, and he stumbled. “Look alive, Ledbetter! We can’t let our guard down just yet,” he said. “We still have to make sure there aren’t any more of them lurking around.”

  Our squad moved cautiously through the passageways, checking every nook and cranny for signs of danger. We found nothing other than a few wounded. We’d won this battle, but we knew there would be more to come.

  Chapter 8: Stalemate

  “Sergeant!”

  It was Commander Kaine, and Sergeant Cox reacted as if stung. He straightened up from where he’d been leaning against one wall, congratulating himself and his men, to answer his CO.

  “I’m here, Commander. Go ahead.”

  “While you’ve been celebrating, the pirates have overwhelmed my defenders at Airlock #3. I swear, Green Company is worthless. All they can do is delay the enemy.”

  “Should we secure things here at 11, sir before—”

  “No, dammit! I’ll throw some more hopeless swabbies onto that duty. Move your ass to #3—no scratch that, they’re moving deeper into the ship. They’re halfway to Engineering—that must be their goal.”

  Sergeant Cox appeared visibly relieved. “That’s good news, sir. Can’t 2nd Squad take them out?”

  “Maybe, but I want you to trap them. Get on their six, and slam into them right when they engage the defenders at Engineering. Then, we’ll crush them between two hammers!”

  Sergeant Cox gritted his teeth and nodded. “I’m on it, sir.”

  That was it, Kaine was gone. The sergeant began kicking tails up and down the passageway, getting us up and running. A few of us were wounded, but none seriously. We’d been lucky so far.

  “Move, move, move!” he shouted, and we obeyed.

  Sergeant Cox quickly gathered his squad and began moving toward Airlock #3. As we made our way through the narrow passageways, we heard the sound of laser fire and the shouts of the pirate invaders growing louder.

  “Get ready for a fight, marines,” Cox shouted to his squad. “These pirates aren’t going to take Engineering without going through us first.”

  As we approached Engineering, we could see that the pirates had already breached the bulkhead and were pushing forward. Corporal Tench took point, leading the way with his laser rifle at the ready. Private Ledbetter and Private Starn followed close behind, covering their flanks.

  The pirates were caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the marines behind them. They were trapped between two squads and taking fire from every direction. My squad advanced eagerly, driving the invaders back into the defenders at Engineering.

  As they were surrounded, the pirates regrouped and mounted a counterattack in our direction.

  “They’re trying to break out and get back to their ship,” Cox said. “Don’t let them go home, boys—no prisoners unless they surrender!”

  We took cover behind crates and containers, exchanging fire with our carbines. The battle raged on for several tense minutes, but in the end, the marines of Red Company emerged victorious, having successfully crushed the boarding party to the last man.

  “Well done, marines,” Lt. Quinn said. He was the marine in charge of 2nd squad. Apparently, his sergeant had perished in the fighting.

  Together, Cox and Quinn counted the dead. We’d lost two, while the pirates had lost nearly thirty. The battle had been a resounding success—but it wasn’t over with yet.

  Commander Kaine spoke to us over the intercom. “Well done, boys. Red Company has saved Borag from certain destruction. Now let’s mop up the rest of these pirates and get back to business.”

  Sergeant Cox and Lt. Quinn led the charge, while I tried to lend supporting fire when I could. We found a few more pockets of resistance where the pirates had holed up. They tried to fight back, but they were overwhelmed and outmatched. It was a brutal and bloody battle, but in the end, the pirates were all destroyed.

  As the smoke cleared, the Red Company marines looked around at the carnage. Bodies of pirates littered the passageway, and the walls were scorched and pitted from the intense firefight. Sergeant Cox gave the order to regroup and continue the sweep of the ship.

  It was a hard-fought victory, but we had done it. Red company had successfully repelled the pirate invasion, and Borag’s decks were clear of rebel scum once again.

  Captain Hansen initiated communication with the pirate raiders, who were still locked onto our hull. They were like three angry insects working to break the skin of a larger animal. They were leeches—and I hated them all.

  Captain Hansen spoke calmly but firmly, making it clear that any attempt to fire on Borag would result in mutual destruction. She explained that Borag had defensive measures in place that could easily take out their ship, and that they had no chance of winning a battle against the well-armed mining vessel.

  “You owe us,” the same rat-looking pirate said. “Your debt will never be forgotten. Dump your ore now, let us feast upon it, and you may go in peace.”

  The captain snorted in amusement. “You’ve tried to take our ship. You failed. Nurse your wounds, cannibalize your dead, and leave us.”

  It was an insult, suggesting that the pirates were cannibals. Sure, some of them were—but not all of them. They didn’t like being reminded of this grim fact.

  “You offer us nothing?” the pirate said in dismay. “That will never be understood by my crews. They will lose all respect for me.”

  There was a desperate, almost pleading look on his face. I didn’t get it at first.

  “Uh-oh,” Corporal Tench said aloud.

  Sergeant Cox looked at him in concern. “You don’t think…?”

  Tench nodded his head. He looked pale. To me, he looked more worried than he had when he was facing a shower of laser bolts from the pirates and their pistols.

  “What’s going on, Sarge?” Ledbetter asked, giving voice to what all of us greener men were thinking. No marine ever liked to see his superiors looking freaked out by anything.

  Sergeant Cox showed his teeth. “It’s like this, boys. If these raiders get nothing out of this, after having lost a lot of men… well, there’s likely to be a mutiny on their decks when this is over and done with. That rat-looking captain—he’s probably toast.”

  Ledbetter scoffed. “Good. Who cares if these savages tear each other apart?”

  Tench and Cox exchanged glances. The sergeant nodded to the corporal, suggesting that he should explain.

  “It’s like this,” Corporal Tench said. “That captain has nothing to lose, now. That means he’ll order his ships to fire—even if it’s suicide. What else can he do? He’s dead anyway, so he might as well go for it.”

  Finally, I got it. If we backed this pirate leader into a corner, putting him into a no-win situation, he was likely to take huge risks.

  Concerned, we all turned our attention back to the viewscreens. Captain Hansen had muted the channel while she talked things over with her bridge crew. Now, she turned back to face the pirate and began to speak again.