So I started writing again.

Southeast loading dock; 00:19 hours local time.

The calm darkness of the hallway was brutally interrupted by a sudden brilliant spark followed by a yelp of pain that blurred into a stream of curses in no less then 3 different languages. “Piece of terran crap”, exclaimed a young male voice.

“Awww.. Did the bravest little trooper burn his finger??” mocked a female voice, obviously enjoying the pain of her companion.

“Come over and I’ll give you one too..” he retorted.

“Can it you two…” came a billowing command from an older man who was waiting slightly further down the hallway. “Report!” He continued.

“Kurtz burned his little finger sir!” replied the female, attempting to stifle a sinker.

“Cut the crap, Lieutenant Stant”. The older officer cut back.

He took two quick boot steps and then a dim light illuminated the group.

Technical Sergeant Dean Kurtz looked up at his superior officer from a seated position near an emergency access panel inset into the wall. “Sir, the access code we have is NFG, so I’m attempting to bypass the interlock system..”.

“How long?” interjected Capitan Peter Moon.

“Not sure sir. This layout isn’t what I expected. There have been a number of recent modifications; none of this is anything like the other CTR installation we’ve seen. And.. I .. um burned my finger.. sir.”, Kurts said, wincing in anticipation of the inevitable retort.

“Just get it open, Sergeant; we’re on the clock here”. Said the Capitan turning on his heel.

The renewed sounds of tools on armored steel was the only acknowledgement Capitan Moon required.

The Capitan had no reason to mistrust his subordinates in any way. Sgt. Kurtz was one of the best security specialists in the battalion. He had been personally hand picked for the squad. It was just that Something wasn’t sitting right about this mission, it had a bad taste.. He knew that it was supposed to be a simple snatch and grab. Get some kind of research data or whatnot, Kurtz was supposed to know it when they found it. The team had completed countless similar missions, on a myriad of worlds.

“No two missions are the same.” He thought, reaching back to his training. The third rule of Officer’s Candidate School had been drilled into him countless times before. He had been trained by the best instructors the Alliance has to offer. Moon was a soldier to his very core. Nearly everything he had learned in life had thought to him by the corps. His father was in the corps, his mother was in the corps, and now Lieutenant General Moon’s little boy is in the corps. Everything drilled, practiced, categorized, and codified, that’s how he liked it. Leave nothing to chance, do it by the book and everyone go home. This mission was beginning to smell like something outside of the book.

This is just the first part of an older thing I did, supposed to be part of the intro to open combat. I' recently went in an cleaned it up and redid some things. Mostly to get in the mood to start a book.

Now I'm on page 40 :/