...until someone vents the airlock!

“Diaz! Fall in. HUP two three four HUP two three four!” Sarge barks in cadence over the squad intercom. LEFT! HUAH!” The squad turns and passes into the airlock.

“Squad! HALT! I’m on point for breach.” Sarge’s gravelly voice declares as he takes his position in front of the exit door. “Corporal, you are number two. Jones and Diaz are three and four. Seal your helmets and sound off.”

“Aye, Sarge,” says Oleg as the bulk of his personal battle suit hides Sarge from Diaz’s view. “Aye,” says Jones as he steps shoulder to shoulder with Diaz.

Sarge’s bark startles Diaz, “Well, Private? Are you still with us, or did you decide to head back to your girl instead of fighting bugs today?”

“Aye Sarge!” Diaz yells. Too loud. Ugh, why can’t he get himself together like the others?

“When I give orders, I expect you to sound off! Either you pull yourself together, or you’ll find your ass back in civies. This is the Solar Marines, not a personal vacation, Diaz!”

The lighting changes from bright white to red indicating that the airlock is in vacuum.

“Aye, Sergeant!” he says, trying to sound brave, but his voice still wavering. Suddenly an alarm sounds in his helmet as the entry door locks closed, he yelps.

“Hey! Diaz, good to meet you. Glad they got someone to fill in for Smith.” Private Jones's voice over his helmet speaker on a private channel grabs his attention, and Diaz switches his mic over.

“I just came from the D Company, second platoon. They just had me report without any details. Have you been in this squad long?” said Diaz, hoping this Jones guy would be decent.

“Six months, three combat drops. Don’t worry, Sarge is tough; pay attention, and you’ll make it. I remember my first breach from a few years ago. Hoorah! I love this stuff.”

“Thanks,” he said, not feeling all that thankful. “I’ve got a girl back home, we’re gonna get married after my enlistment is over. I figure I can get a job running equipment or something. I thought this would be a way to get a leg up you know? Just something to get some credits banked. I didn’t think I’d end up fighting!”

“My suit has taken plenty of hits from those things, relax. Look, just follow my lead, we’ll get through this. The guys who don’t make it let themselves get distracted. Get your head into it, Diaz, eyes up and ready to rock, brother.”

Sarge’s voice cuts in over the team channel, so Diaz closes the private channel to Jones.

“We are here to breach the bug ship. Do NOT touch the red panels on the sides of this airlock; that will fire the breach charges and start the party. The commander will trigger it all in sync with the other units. Our orders are to wait, so get comfortable, kids!”

As if on queue, a shock travels through his boots, the ships must be close now. Sweat trickles down his forehead, “It sucks not being able to wipe the sweat off your face”

Jones’ voice chimes in on the private channel again, “You want to play a game?”

“What? What are you talking about?”, Diaz looks to his left and is horrified to see Jone’s gauntlet poised over the glowing red panel that read “EXIT CHARGES”.

“We take turns, you close your blast visor so that you can’t see and then poke the wall. Yell fire and we both look to see how close your finger is to the panel. Whoever gets closest without actually triggering the panel wins and gets free beer when we get back.”

“Are you freaking insane?!?!”

“One more thing. You have to do it manually, with no AI assistance. If you hit the panel, it arms the charges, and you have three seconds to tap it again to reset before all hell breaks loose.”

“Sarge would kill us if we hit that! And without the assist, it’s impossible to be accurate!”

Jones groans, “Don’t be such a wimp, all the breach squads do it. What else are you going to do while we wait for the nod?” “I’ll go first.” Diaz sees the black visor snap down over Jones's face plate, and with no delay, Jones’s gauntleted hand slams the wall, his finger just next to the border on the glowing red plate.

As Jones’s visor slides back he yells, “All right! HUD says that it measures 20 centimeters. You’re up.”

“I’m not doing it, Jones, it's nuts.”

“Don't be a pansy! Come on, you’re up!”

“No! It’s bad enough that the bugs want to shred us, I’m not giving Sarge an excuse to beat the crap out of me.”

“Jones! You idiot, I know what you’re up to. Lay off!” Sarge barks over the squad channel. “Remember, it’s all fun and games until someone vents the airlock.”, Sarge chuckles. The sound of his harsh laughter making Diaz even more nervous. “By the book people, you’ve been trained for this. Follow your helmet HUD and we’ll be back in the suds in no time.”

The steady thrum he can feel through his boots shifts to a deeper, heavier vibration. As if reading his thoughts, Jones says, “You’re feeling the reverse thrusters; we’ll probably make contact any sec.”

The room lighting begins to strobe, and Diaz finds himself swimming in a fog of fear. The door vanishes, and there is space in front of him where Oleg and Sarge had been. The chaos erupting around him and in his helmet radio is overwhelming.

Sarge yells, “GO GO GO GO!” Oleg and Jones are screaming something that he can’t make out. Where did they all go? His boots are frozen to the floor. This is how his career ends. They would court-martial him for cowardice and instead of getting married and having a family, he would rot in military prison.

A blast flashed off the edge of the airlock, blackening the edge and jolting him back to his senses. The door beckons him and shows him his path home.

NO! This is not where it ends.

As he launches himself through the door, he takes in the scene. The other three squad members are hurling bolts of fire in every direction, he jams himself between Oleg and Jones, raises his blast rifle, and gets to work.