Chapter One

The pristine room that housed the cryo-beds was filled with the sound of rushing air as the lids on those beds popped open. Within each, a marine lay in gently enforced slumber, which was just then wearing off.

The man known as Chance was taking his time waking up. At just a hair over six feet and about fifteen pounds shy of two hundred in weight, with his brown hair and hazel eyes, Chauncey was the perfect example of a marine. At the moment, he was blinking his eyes against the harsh light.

While the small group of marines woke up, a huge dark skinned man, six and a half feet tall and over three hundred pounds of pure muscle, walked down the length of them. Staff Sergeant Tony Mars had been awake no longer than the rest of them, but by his voice and posture, one would think he had been up for hours. Past the beds of just waking marines he strode, bellowing in his giant's voice. "WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP! This ain't the Paradise Hilton, Ladies. I want those pods empty, now! Move it move it move it!"

The response to this wake-up call was a chorus of groans. Dean Marshal, slightly taller and more built than Chance from having spent his early years on a farm, sat up and immediately knocked his head against the lid of his pod. Groaning, he held his hand to the spot he'd hit. "Oh... hell... we're still alive." Being a farm-boy at heart, Dean hated flying.

As the group stumbled out of their pods, Chance managed to duplicate Dean's stunt with the lid, banging his own head. While he rubbed that spot and cursed, his fellow marine chuckled at him. Dean made it onto his feet and stretched. "Good to see I'm not the only one who still does that."

The sole female in the small group of marines, Karen Tack, tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ears. She was an intense woman, always proving that she belonged within this team of elite soldiers. "You heard the man, let's get moving. Those colonists aren't gonna wait around forever."

Dean turned to her raising an eyebrow, and with a sardonic grin, asked, "Where're they gonna go?"

Finishing his stretch, Chance yawned and then replied. "Home."

The youngest marine in the group, Kevin Janith looked confused as he looked to the others. "Wait... I thought they were home already." Kevin was the baby of the group, having been out of training for less than a year. He had yet to see real combat, and the others constantly teased him for that. They had taken to shortening his last name and calling him Jan, just to get on his nerves.

Now, Chance looked to the younger man and sighed. Sometimes he was sure that Kevin couldn't possibly be this dense or naïve. Eventually, he spoke, motioning the other marine forward. "Just let it go..."

As they worked out the kinks from staying still for so long, Dean asked, "What's the deal here? I mean, this is a tiny group, you know?"

Cracking her wrists, Tack looked up at him. "Kinda like your balls, huh?"

Chance nodded and put his own two cents in. "That'd be a pair."

Dean rolled his eyes and began hopping from one foot to the other to work his leg muscles. "Hey, fuck you."

Snorting, Tack responded while rolling her head to crack her neck. "Not for all the money in the universe."

Dean grinned. "So you'll do it for free then? I'm open Saturday."

Chance chuckled and pulled on a shirt and pants. As a corporal, it was partially his job to keep the other few marines in good order. "Glad to see you're all awake."

Snapping his fingers, Mars pointed to the doorway. "Alright, ladies... pair off and meet up in the gym. We've got work-out before mess."

Chance nodded and looked around "You heard the man, shit 'em and

split 'em, get to the gym. You too Jan."

Rising from his stretch, Kevin scowled. "Damn, man... toldja not to call me that."

Dean chuckled softly and reached over to slap the younger man on the back. "Well he can't rightly call you pussy-boy. That'd be mean."

Raising an eyebrow, Tack spoke up before Kevin could reply. "Dean, with your record, even saying the word, 'pussy' must violate a dozen restraining orders."

Moments later, Kevin had paired up with Chance, while Tack and Dean had automatically paired up. Both grumbled at the other constantly, but the truth was that they trusted one another more than anyone else.

Later, after a lengthy work-out session, the small group gathered in the mess for what was advertised as ham. The taste made them all question this claim.

Staring at the faux-ham on his plate, Chance shook his head. "Dean, don't they raise better quality pigs where you're from?"

Looking up, Dean nodded. "Course they do. I have strong doubts as to this thing actually being a pig at some point, though."

Poking at the meat with his fork, Chance agreed. "I'd guess something gross, but I'd rather not..."

Forcing a fork-full of the meat into her own mouth and swallowing with a grimace before speaking, Tack then used the fork to poke her squad-mate in the arm. "The only pig here is you, Dean."

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I'd taste better."

Shrugging, Chance swallowed a bite of meat and made a face. "At least we know he'd be country quality, no nutrition added..." There was a long pause as he paused midway through chewing thinking about the possibilities.

Coughing, Dean shook his head. "Hey man... that's not fair..."

Putting a hand on his shoulder, Tack winked at him. "Well... at least we'd finally find a use for you."

Chance looked around. "Yeah, maybe even two. Tack might finally get the redwood out of her ass and crack a smile."

Dean leaned over and stuck his hand out to Chance, who returned the gesture and slapped the offered hand. In response to this, Tack sighed. "The smell of testosterone in here is nauseating."

Looking to her, Chance replied. "Maybe you should stop being so manly then."

Confused, as usual, Kevin protested. "But... she's a woman."

Chance just sighed once more. "And you're a boy."

Stammering for a minute, Kevin put down his fork. "I'm a man." Dean and Tack immediately spit mouthfuls of food as they broke into hysterical laughter

Chance gave him a smile and nodded "Sure Jan..."

Kevin grumbled. "Don't call me that, man... it ain't right."

Giving up and putting down his fork, Chance replied. "Neither is this ham. I've tasted spam that was more... ham like than this."

Dean agreed, poking the ham with his fork before grimacing. "Hey, I've tasted chicken that was more ham than this."

"I know I can't say the same for Dean, but I'm sure the best hunting the rest of us have done was through the grocery aisle..."

Chance looked to Dean for confirmation, but it was Kevin who spoke next. "I went fishing once."

Glancing at him, Chance asked, "You catch anything? Cold's don't count."

Kevin was silent for a moment, before admitting, "I caught a boot, but my dad caught a catfish."

Dean groaned. "Great. We'll let you know if the galaxy is threatened by evil boot-men

Thinking for a minute, Chance looked to Kevin suspiciously. "The boot wasn't yours was it?" Kevin's response was a mumble.

Chuckling again, Chance leaned away from his food, just as their leader, Lieutenant Brent Gaimen entered. Gaimen had been in the Corp for fifteen years. He wasn't tall, only five feet, eight inches, but all of him was solid muscle. He wore his slightly balding black hair in a comb over. "Alright, gentlemen... and lady... I'd like to introduce you to our newest arrival."

As the marines looked, their eyes found a woman standing behind him. She looked to be in her early twenties, with short brown hair and an angelic face.

Gaimen explained. "This is River. She's our synthetic." She received several nods and a wave from the ever-enthusiastic Kevin.

Satisfied that she'd been introduced enough, Gaimen turned. "Now, if you'll follow me, I'll explain our mission."