Sarge's Boots clunked up and down the aisle of the boarding ship.
"Listen up you flowery, misbegotten, dandelion stringing, tea sipping girl's blouses. This will not be a tea party, so stow your best china and be on full alert"
Private Mac Sorkemski Designation X9356201 yawned. All of a sudden Sarge's manky teeth were directly at his eyeline.
"Am I boring you Private Sorkemski?!"
Private Mac Sorkemski Designation X9356201 peered into the darkness and shivered. " I don't like this Sarge," he whispered. "These old ships gives me the willies".
"I don't care what you like, Private." Mac could feel his superior's eyes boring into his soul. "I want those scouts found. Now fall out!"
"Floor 45 quadrant 2 subsection 3a room 17 clear." Private Mac Sorkemski Designation X9356201 recited.
"Check" His Sergeant responded. "All right Ladies, 20 minute meal break, Dodson and Summers on perimeter watch"
The troop squad began unpacking rations.
In the distance a clatter was heard. It echoed ominously though the vast ship.
Mac giggled nervously.
"Break's over ladies, lock and load." Sarge's voice quickened, "We have incoming".
Private Mac Sorkemski Designation X9356201 reloaded.
The alarm klaxons blared in consternating rhythm. Lights strobed across his visor as he raised his laser rifle.
Jeez it was hard to see through the smoke.
Someone screamed toward his left. Private Summers.
Gone.
He pulled his laser rifle sharply and unloaded 4 short small bursts. A bestial alien voice answered in anguish and pain. Mac started to laugh.
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All of the Pieces