Captain Seth Mills, ReCon Unit 3, Sector 437, Hive Controlled Freighter

      Smoke clouded the air as my team swarmed the tight hallways of the small freighter, setting explosive charges. The Hive had maintained control of the vessel for the last eighteen hours. Too long by Coalition standards, which meant I had to get my team in, save the Prillon warriors pinned down in the engine room, and blow this fucking ship into so many pieces the Hive had no hope of ever putting her back together.

      “Seems like a waste, sir.” The man next to me, Jack Watts, was a former SEAL with a southern accent that only confirmed he was from Atlanta. Other than the fact that we were both from Earth, we had nothing in common. I was Army, six-four, two-twenty, and had no tolerance for bullshit. Which was one of the reasons Commander Karter had given me command of this unit. Jack, on the other hand, was Navy, five years younger, and still had the bright shine of excitement in his eyes when we were on a mission.

      But then, he hadn’t lost two brothers out here to these Hive fuckers either.

      “Shut up and set the charges, Watts,” I all but growled. “You know the rules.”

      He placed an explosive on the wall next to us and pushed the button, activating it. “I know, but it seems a waste to blow up all these ships just because the Hive squatted here for a few hours. It’s our damn ship.”

      “Not anymore.” Three hours was the ReCon deadline. Eliminate all Hive on board within three hours or the ship was considered contaminated. Too dangerous to resume service in the Coalition Fleet. We moved on, farther down the hazy corridor with two of the unit on point, scouting ahead, and the rest following behind, checking the charges and watching our six.

      “You humans stop chatting and get your asses down