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Description
The pilots were civilians and that really pissed off Captain Bishamon Hiratsu. To add insult to injury they were Korean as were half his men. That really steamed his rice. Hiratsu struggled to keep his anger and loathing in check.

"We have been in orbit two hours. We should have docked by know. How much longer," Hiratsu asked through clenched teeth.

The pilots gave each other a sidelong glance. Ha-Neul Kwon spoke in an exasperated tone. "We discussed this before we launched. It's not as easy as shooting a helpless Chinese baby, we have to deal with orbital mechanics. Didn't they teach you that in soldier school?" Hiratsu's face flushed with anger. He was not used to such insolence from people who were little better than dogs.

"We must dock immediately. We are going to give up the element of surprise."

"We gave that up the moment we launched. It's hard to disguise one of these things you know. Besides, what are you trying to do, sneak up on them? In space? What are we supposed to do? Hide behind something?" The co-pilot, Yong Gi, all but laughed in the frustrated captains face.

"If you like, you can get out and walk," Kwon added helpfully.

"If the two of you were in the army..."

"I was in the army," began Gi, "and I've had enough of pompous bastards like you coming to my country and treating us like shit. Now shut the fuck up and sit your ass down. We will be docking in forty minutes." Kwon shot Gi an approving look and both men smiled as the fuming captain returned to the troop bay.

The men helped each other don the cumbersome and unfamiliar space suits and studiously avoided looking at their chastened leader. Inside, the Korean and Chinese soldiers were grinning widely. The small minority of Japanese soldiers were humiliated by their captains loss of faith. Had this happened in earlier times all would have committed seppuku.

As if to re-establish his dominance over the men and regain some measure of respect, Hiratsu barked, "Leftenant Toshiru, you will stay on board the ship with your men while I command the boarding party. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," he replied, hiding his indignation at being kept from joining in on the glory of capturing the gaijin spacecraft.

As one, the men looked up towards the ships crew compartment as a soft yet distinct "chumf" was heard. The docking ports had connected. The transport ship of the Asiatic Alliance locked into place facing the darkened hulk of the Cyrano.

Beyond the sealed corridor that lead to the airlock, Kathryn heard a muffled clunk as the Alliance ship docked. The corridor was low, just under six feet. The newly imparted spin on the complex would provide the illusion of gravity and force the invaders to remove their helmets or walk stooped, looking at what was now the floor.

The lock could hold up to twenty suited men. She wondered how many would come through. She held the switch in a sweaty palm. Only a few short hours before she had been so sure of herself and her role in this action. Now that it was here, she had doubts. Not about what she would do. She knew she would trigger the vents, but could she live with herself afterwards. She heard the lock cycle. "Fuck 'em," she said quietly.

Hiratsu was ready at the lock door, waiting for the pressure between the ship and the refining facility to balance. Even though he knew there was air on the other side of the hatch, he was taking no chances that the air hadn't been poisoned or oxygen ratios altered. He cursed himself for not having the fore thought to bring along equipment to test the air quality, then again, he had Koreans for that.

Once into the station proper they could remove the cumbersome environment suits. The crew of miners wouldn't sacrifice themselves. Stupid round eyes. They did not know how to fight. The sacrifice of the few for the many was what counted in war. They valued their insignificant lives too highly. That would be their downfall.

The heavy thumping of the lock's pumps stopped abruptly. The light above the ship's lock switched from red to green. Seven men stepped through. The lock was big. Typical Western waste. There was no reason for this much room on a commercial facility.

He waited for the ships hatch to close behind him before cycling the hatch to the station. No use exposing the men remaining on board to whatever toxins these bastards may have introduced into the air. Finally the ships hatch clicked shut. Satisfied that the ship was safe, he cycled the station hatch open and shoved one soldier into the empty corridor. "Than. Remove your helmet."

"You fucker," Corporal Jae-Kwang Than thought to himself. He briefly considered mowing down the officer but his retinue of Japanese nationals would shoot him down before he charged his rifle. With a sigh, Than held his breath, screwed his eyes shut and cracked his helmets seal. To his great surprise and relief, he remained alive. Slowly he opened his eyes. They didn't burst in their sockets. He felt this was a good sign. He took a tentative breath. The air was stale and stank of sweat and industrial compounds but was breathable.

Katherine watched through the small porthole set into the emergency hatch that separated this section of the facility from the rest of the station. She saw seven men in environment suits mottled in black and various shades of grey. One had a red stripe on his helmet. She guessed him to be the leader. She wondered if they realized the red stripe of leadership was a tradition dating back to the American Apollo missions.

She watched as "Stripe" as she thought of him, shoved one of the other suited figures into the corridor. The figure hesitated before slowly breaking the seal on his helmet. "What a dick," she said to herself as she realized what was happening. One by one the rest of the boarders removed their helmets and took a tentative breath.

Stripe was the last one to remove his helmet. As he placed it on the floor and checked his weapon, Katherine tapped on the porthole, smiled broadly and waved.

Hiratsu dropped his rifle and grabbed for his helmet. "It's a trap," he yelled.

No sooner had those words escaped his lips than Katherine shouted, "Now," and depressed the switch tightly clutched in her sweaty hand. Hiratsu had not sealed his helmet when explosive bolts detonated and the carefully camouflaged vent holes blew. She watched in sickened fascination as the men, not ten metres from her died painfully. She wasn't sure what would happen, but certainly not this.

As one the men fell to the floor as their lungs instantly collapsed. Their mouths worked frantically as they tried to scream in vacuum. They clawed at their armoured environment suits as if removing them would relieve the crushing feeling of suffocation. Pink foam flowed from their mouths, issuing from shredded lungs.

One soldier seemed to stare accusingly at Katherine. His eyes were bright red from the blood vessels bursting within. She knew he was blind, but the image of that mans agony was burned into her soul. The scene was horrific. Worse than she could have imagined. She could not pull her attention away from the men writhing silently in the final throes of death.

Description
The pilots were civilians and that really pissed off Captain Bishamon Hiratsu. To add insult to injury they were Korean as were half his men. That really steamed his rice. Hiratsu struggled to keep his anger and loathing in check.

"We have been in orbit two hours. We should have docked by know. How much longer," Hiratsu asked through clenched teeth.

The pilots gave each other a sidelong glance. Ha-Neul Kwon spoke in an exasperated tone. "We discussed this before we launched. It's not as easy as shooting a helpless Chinese baby, we have to deal with orbital mechanics. Didn't they teach you that in soldier school?" Hiratsu's face flushed with anger. He was not used to such insolence from people who were little better than dogs.

"We must dock immediately. We are going to give up the element of surprise."

"We gave that up the moment we launched. It's hard to disguise one of these things you know. Besides, what are you trying to do, sneak up on them? In space? What are we supposed to do? Hide behind something?" The co-pilot, Yong Gi, all but laughed in the frustrated captains face.

"If you like, you can get out and walk," Kwon added helpfully.

"If the two of you were in the army..."

"I was in the army," began Gi, "and I've had enough of pompous bastards like you coming to my country and treating us like shit. Now shut the fuck up and sit your ass down. We will be docking in forty minutes." Kwon shot Gi an approving look and both men smiled as the fuming captain returned to the troop bay.

The men helped each other don the cumbersome and unfamiliar space suits and studiously avoided looking at their chastened leader. Inside, the Korean and Chinese soldiers were grinning widely. The small minority of Japanese soldiers were humiliated by their captains loss of faith. Had this happened in earlier times all would have committed seppuku.

As if to re-establish his dominance over the men and regain some measure of respect, Hiratsu barked, "Leftenant Toshiru, you will stay on board the ship with your men while I command the boarding party. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," he replied, hiding his indignation at being kept from joining in on the glory of capturing the gaijin spacecraft.

As one, the men looked up towards the ships crew compartment as a soft yet distinct "chumf" was heard. The docking ports had connected. The transport ship of the Asiatic Alliance locked into place facing the darkened hulk of the Cyrano.

Beyond the sealed corridor that lead to the airlock, Kathryn heard a muffled clunk as the Alliance ship docked. The corridor was low, just under six feet. The newly imparted spin on the complex would provide the illusion of gravity and force the invaders to remove their helmets or walk stooped, looking at what was now the floor.

The lock could hold up to twenty suited men. She wondered how many would come through. She held the switch in a sweaty palm. Only a few short hours before she had been so sure of herself and her role in this action. Now that it was here, she had doubts. Not about what she would do. She knew she would trigger the vents, but could she live with herself afterwards. She heard the lock cycle. "Fuck 'em," she said quietly.

Hiratsu was ready at the lock door, waiting for the pressure between the ship and the refining facility to balance. Even though he knew there was air on the other side of the hatch, he was taking no chances that the air hadn't been poisoned or oxygen ratios altered. He cursed himself for not having the fore thought to bring along equipment to test the air quality, then again, he had Koreans for that.

Once into the station proper they could remove the cumbersome environment suits. The crew of miners wouldn't sacrifice themselves. Stupid round eyes. They did not know how to fight. The sacrifice of the few for the many was what counted in war. They valued their insignificant lives too highly. That would be their downfall.

The heavy thumping of the lock's pumps stopped abruptly. The light above the ship's lock switched from red to green. Seven men stepped through. The lock was big. Typical Western waste. There was no reason for this much room on a commercial facility.

He waited for the ships hatch to close behind him before cycling the hatch to the station. No use exposing the men remaining on board to whatever toxins these bastards may have introduced into the air. Finally the ships hatch clicked shut. Satisfied that the ship was safe, he cycled the station hatch open and shoved one soldier into the empty corridor. "Than. Remove your helmet."

"You fucker," Corporal Jae-Kwang Than thought to himself. He briefly considered mowing down the officer but his retinue of Japanese nationals would shoot him down before he charged his rifle. With a sigh, Than held his breath, screwed his eyes shut and cracked his helmets seal. To his great surprise and relief, he remained alive. Slowly he opened his eyes. They didn't burst in their sockets. He felt this was a good sign. He took a tentative breath. The air was stale and stank of sweat and industrial compounds but was breathable.

Katherine watched through the small porthole set into the emergency hatch that separated this section of the facility from the rest of the station. She saw seven men in environment suits mottled in black and various shades of grey. One had a red stripe on his helmet. She guessed him to be the leader. She wondered if they realized the red stripe of leadership was a tradition dating back to the American Apollo missions.

She watched as "Stripe" as she thought of him, shoved one of the other suited figures into the corridor. The figure hesitated before slowly breaking the seal on his helmet. "What a dick," she said to herself as she realized what was happening. One by one the rest of the boarders removed their helmets and took a tentative breath.

Stripe was the last one to remove his helmet. As he placed it on the floor and checked his weapon, Katherine tapped on the porthole, smiled broadly and waved.

Hiratsu dropped his rifle and grabbed for his helmet. "It's a trap," he yelled.

No sooner had those words escaped his lips than Katherine shouted, "Now," and depressed the switch tightly clutched in her sweaty hand. Hiratsu had not sealed his helmet when explosive bolts detonated and the carefully camouflaged vent holes blew. She watched in sickened fascination as the men, not ten metres from her died painfully. She wasn't sure what would happen, but certainly not this.

As one the men fell to the floor as their lungs instantly collapsed. Their mouths worked frantically as they tried to scream in vacuum. They clawed at their armoured environment suits as if removing them would relieve the crushing feeling of suffocation. Pink foam flowed from their mouths, issuing from shredded lungs.

One soldier seemed to stare accusingly at Katherine. His eyes were bright red from the blood vessels bursting within. She knew he was blind, but the image of that mans agony was burned into her soul. The scene was horrific. Worse than she could have imagined. She could not pull her attention away from the men writhing silently in the final throes of death.