I have the best fucking job in the Alliance.

Seriously. What other job would pay you to rescue a bunch of nuns from goddamn space pirates?! Can you get more noble than that? Well, I suppose it would be more noble if I had to rescue a bunch of virgins from the tentacles of a Cthulu, but...I think virgins went extinct around 2070. I remember hearing something about it in one of those Discovering holos.

So here we are, our 3-1/2-foot-tall Tech Sergeant, piloting the ship like a the mad bat out of hell that he is, while the rest of us gear up to infiltrate the command ship of a rebel fleet. There’s nothing like unbeatable odds to get the adrenaline pumping. We were supposed to have two more teams for backup, but the bloody pirates got here early, and I’ll be damned if I let those nuns suffer at the hands of those blood-thirsty scoundrels any longer. Besides, our party works alone. We’re tight. Tight like...

“Major, canya quit talking into that talky-thing and help me get this CR-357 strapped on?”
“Sorry, just putting an entry into my captain’s log before we...”
“Major. I’m mounting now. You’ll have about 70 seconds to bust open the hatch before the maintenance bots notice me.”
“Got it! There. That work for you?”
“Yeah, let’s blast some pirate ass!”
“Can you please refrain from vulgarity, at least until the gunshots can drown out your voice?”

Kliim glares then shrugs and we make contact. We’re on this bird like a tick on the back of a farming dog. Kliim pops the hatch and I bust out the torch. We are in the hatch and closing the airlock doors with three seconds to spare. This is going to be a good mission.

Continue...