By the time we reached the target zone, I wished that the turrets had killed me. The squad had marched double time for hours. Now we'd stopped, my legs throbbed and twitched as I lay in the dirt atop an unnamed hill. Below us, rail tracks snaked through the bumpy terrain like a child's doodles.

Sarge stood to one side holding a tablet, double-checking our mission's details. Westcott stood beside him like an attache, nodding attentively as the older man spoke.

I ignored them. I didn't care about the mission. Its success meant nothing to me, beyond survival.

"You were brave," Kuwta muttered from where she squatted beside me. "Back there." She clarified, as if it was needed, it wasn't like I made a habit of committing acts of bravery. I was a pragmatist, not a hero. That was why I was still alive.

"Thanks," I muttered self-consciously. My cheeks turned rosy as I inclined my head and accepted the praise. I wasn't used to kind words, especially from women. Admittedly, the lady in question was green, tusked, and with a propensity for acts of extreme violence. Hardly the sort of being considered for a romantic prospect.

Kuwta's voice dropped slightly as she checked Sarge's position. "Have you ever wondered why the Scrael allow their recruits access to nanobots?"

I shrugged, "It seems pretty obvious to me. It makes us tougher and more competitive."

The Orc smirked. "Sometimes I forget humans are from a backward planet. You're so delightfully innocent and easy to manipulate, it's not surprising that other races have been harvesting you for millennia."

"If you're so wise, then how come we destroyed your clan?" I spat back, annoyed with her arrogance. This was more familiar territory to me. I was used to being belittled.

"Humans are malleable but dangerous, that I accept." Her sharp teeth flashed a feral smile, showing my anger amused her. "Your reasoning is partially correct; the nanobots do improve the effectiveness of their cannon fodder, however," she spat on the ground to emphasize her point before continuing. "There is a secondary reason. As well as the changes you might request, the nanites edit your personality, making you less risk-averse, less empathic to your squadmates. In short, the perfect cannon fodder."

My eyes narrowed, "This is why you played ignorant to the Major?" A sudden insight hit me, "You haven't used the nanites yourself?"

Her posture was carefully neutral as she nodded. Her eyes watched me carefully, waiting to see how I'd react to her confirmation.

Breathing in deeply, I kept my bubbling emotions under control. I felt like a rabid dog in a pound, trying to be on best behavior to avoid scaring a potential owner. This Orc knew far more than I did about things, and I needed to pump her for that information.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before now?" I answered as evenly as I could manage. Kuwta flinched slightly as anger seeped into my tone. Apparently, what I could manage wasn't a lot at present.

Kuwta's eyes flicked over to Sarge again.

"I wasn't sure I could trust any of you. At first, I thought I'd have to manage you in the same way I did the clan warriors." She laughed ruefully, "That didn't work out so well, so perhaps it's a good thing that I'm trying something different. You seem less affected than the others. You show concern for the others …"

Her words dribbled out as she waited for my response. I was silent for nearly a minute, considering what she'd said. The time since we'd been conscripted played out in my head. I remembered how it had felt when Hodges had died. Everyone had been affected. We'd all mourned in our own way; even the psychotic Robinson had drugged himself into a stupor rather than deal with the loss.

Fast forward to Robinson's own death, and none of us had even spoken about it. I'd presumed the others had been in silent mourning, but perhaps there was something to what Kuwta was claiming? If so, why hadn't I been affected?

I thought back to the major and his anger at my having taken psychic skills. Perhaps the two were linked?

"Alright." I admitted, "So what do we do now?"

The Orc looked at the floor, "Nothing," she admitted. "We follow our orders and complete the mission. What else can we do?"

I threw a rock down the hillside in frustration. I wanted to scream. This was all so unfair.

Sarge had apparently reassured himself that the coast was clear. He piled several small rectangular satchels on the floor in front of him.

"Peters, Kuwta, get your arses over here and collect these charges. We should have four hours before the train arrives, but I want everything set up and double checked before it arrives."

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"I want them set here, here, and here. We lost four charges when Robinson died, so I need these set precisely, or the entire mission could fail." I watched Sarge carefully as he spoke. His words were emotionless when he mentioned Robinson. He showed more feeling about the loss of the charges than to the man who had served under him.

"Did you hear me, boy?" Sarge bellowed, bringing me out of my reverie.

"Yes, Sarge," I replied dutifully.

"Well, get to it, man!"

We got to it. Kuwta, Buzz, and I split the charges between us, collecting four charges each. Sarge and Westcott remained on the hillside. It was their job to detonate the explosives when the time came.

We hurried down the hill to the rail lines. There was no danger from the charges while they were inert, so we hurtled down the hill haphazardly. It was easier to run down the slope than move slowly.

The chosen point was a bend in the tracks. Any derailment at that point would surely be catastrophic to the vehicle.

Stripping the cardboard packaging away from the white block of explosives was the work of moments. Molding it firmly into the rail's grooved side took a little longer, but was an equally simple undertaking. The final touch was to stab a large metal toothpick into it. The instructions indicated the toothpick was a wireless transmitter and apparently allowed detonation from a distance without a physical connection.

Obviously, a grunt from a backwoods planet like me had no understanding of how such things could work. I accepted that I was an ignoramus compared to the species able to construct such marvels. Perhaps one day, humans could elevate ourselves to that level?

I shrugged and continued with the matter at hand, setting the next charge.

There were two to be set when the ground shook slightly, like a dog shivering in the cold. A deep growling rumble followed this.

In the distance, a long snaking train was approaching. Painted a dark grey color, its carriages seemed to suck in the light, but even at this distance, it was obvious this wasn't carrying commuters. Huge metal armor reinforced its sides, and several turrets were mounted on top of it

Shit, it was early.

When were trains ever early?

It was progressing fairly slowly, but still, we probably had no more than a couple of minutes before it reached us.

Less still before its occupants realized there were insurgents on the tracks.

The charges I'd set would have to do. There wasn't time to place more.

"Time to go!" I shouted as I pulled at Kuwta's arm.

"Nearly finished," She replied calmly.

The train was grinding down the track towards us. The front turret faced in the direction the train was traveling, and its gunner would surely spot us soon.

"Now!" I pleaded.

What did the Orc care about the mission anyway?

"Done," Kuwta replied, and a second later, she allowed me to pull her away from the rails.

Our destination was a patch of scrubby bushes further down the line—a hiding place of sorts.

Buzz moved with alien speed and grace as he scurried rapidly ahead, taking the lead as we fled. With a kick of his huge hind legs, he leaped the last twenty feet into the cover.

Lagging behind him, Kuwta and I didn't make it.

Setting the charge had taken too long.

Large-caliber shells thudded into the ground nearby as the train's gunners tried to find their range.

It was obvious we were in big trouble.

Kuwta kept running, straining her muscles, but there was no way we could outrun the inevitable.

There was no way we'd make it into cover.

Instead, I veered towards the rails and scrambled quickly up a slight incline onto them.

As I ran along them, I screamed at Kuwta, "The tracks, they won't destroy the tracks!"

The gunner had given up on me and was still tracking Kuwta. It must have been difficult to target a single figure from a speeding train, which was the only thing that kept her alive.

She veered right, heading back towards the track.

Huge explosions of dirt split the ground behind her as she ran.

But her luck held.

For now.

"Come on!" I screamed, urging her onward.

My pace faltered as I glanced over my shoulder, watching her sprint for the safety of the track.

As she reached it, the bullets ceased, but the sound of the train was loud now.

We'd only run a few hundred yards, and it was rapidly bearing down on us.

There was no need for them to waste bullets when they could roll right over us.

I stopped running and stood panting on the tracks as I watched the behemoth thunder towards me.

I tensed my legs. Perhaps I could leap off the track at the last minute and survive?

It was then that Sarge detonated the explosives.

The train bucked and snaked haphazardly as the blast blew it off the tracks. Carriages bucked in the explosion. Some rolled end over end as the train piled up. Others were thrown haphazardly into the air like kid's toys.

The important and deadly thing was that they were still heading towards us.

I gasped helplessly as I saw my death approaching, a huge carriage twenty feet across scraping along on its side towards me.

Tears welled in my eyes.

This was it, after everything I'd endured.

Then my breath exploded out from my gut as Kuwta tackled me.

I landed heavily as we flew off the edge of the tracks and down the shallow slope beside them.

Lying there, I watched as the carriage scraped by overhead.

"You can thank me later," Kuwta said with a smile.

At that moment, I could have kissed her, tusks and all.

Against all odds, we were still alive.

For now, at least.