My hands gripped my M-16 tightly as I took in the scene.

If any of the soldiers on the train had survived, I was ready for them.

The wheels on the train's front carriage were still gently spinning as we rose from beside the tracks. Metal creaked and groaned as the wreckage settled into place.

All Along the track, carriages jutted at crazy angles. It looked like a kid had lashed out at a toy trainset.

"Time to go!" Sarge shouted from the hillside.

Kuwta nodded and started to move up the bank.

I didn't follow her; instead, I moved towards the carriages.

"Peters! What the hell are you doing?" Sarge hollered angrily.

I ignored him.

The thundering of adrenaline from the action was ebbing now and I was able to think more clearly.

We'd completed the mission and prevented the delivery of the resources that the enemy required. But something nagged at me. I wanted to know what those mysterious resources were. Why was the mission brief so ambiguous about them?

The second carriage looked like a passenger carriage. However, the windows had been boarded over with armor plating leaving only small slits allowing slivers of light into the interior. The single door was chained shut from the outside. Whoever or whatever was in there wasn't leaving in a hurry.

A nearly inaudible whimpering echoed out of the carriage, a soft sound, like that from a kicked dog.

Opening my mind, I triggered my Extra Sensory Perception and sent my thoughts, questing into the carriage.

Pulses of pain, resignation, and an underlying feeling of inevitability thrust themselves into my mind. Multiple creatures, their thoughts focussed, sharp and clear. They cut into my mind like daggers.

Their terror tore into my calmness.

I had to help them.

My hands yanked desperately on the carriages door handle, but the chains wouldn't budge.

Inside my mind, I could feel the strength of one of the minds ebbing. His thoughts grew dimmer and more basic as his strength ebbed. Then he was gone. Empty darkness was left in my mind where previously an intelligent being had been.

I pulled harder on the handle. The chains jangled but wouldn't break.

"Peters?" I hadn't even heard Kuwta approach. Her voice sounded concerned.

Within my head, the minds still clamored noisily for attention. The noise deafening and I cradled my head in my hands.

Then the voices slowly dimmed as my psychic powers time limit expired and my senses withdrew. I was alone once more in my head.

"There are people trapped in there," I fell to my knees in front of the door as I struggled to regain some composure.

Heavy boots thudded behind me. "Kuwta retrieve his gas mask," Sarge commanded. "Peters is staying. He's obviously cracked, and we can't carry dead weight with us."

I stood, turning slightly to spit on the floor in front of Sarge.

"Help me open the door," I pleaded with Kuwta, pointedly ignoring Sarge.

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The Orc glanced between us as she weighed her choices.

"Don't any of you want to know what the train was carrying?" I asked, warming to my topic now as I stared Sarge down. "I'm a US Marine, and the only orders I follow blindly are from my President. What about you?"

Color rose in Sarge's cheeks, and his hands clenched into fists as he jolted forward.

I stood my ground and didn't flinch.

Neither did Kuwta. The Orc placed her statuesque body between the two of us. "This will only take a minute," She stated easily.

"You've got two minutes; then we're out of here," Sarge stated flatly.

It wasn't going to take that long. It took Kuwta's pistol a fraction of a second to blow the lock apart.

I pulled the carriage door open and sunlight flooded into the scene of carnage inside.

The people inside had been chained to wooden benches for transport. When the train had crashed, they'd been unable to protect themselves. Arms had been ripped from their sockets. Unmoving bodies sat twisted in unnatural ways, still restrained by their manacles even in death.

"Feeling proud of our mission now?" I spat at Sarge, "Slaves, we just destroyed a slave train!"

The man shrugged, not bothered in the slightest. "War's a dirty business, son. We don't have time for staring at navels, now let's get going."

Ignoring him, I stepped up and into the carriage.

"Help me," a voice pleaded as I entered the cabin. Others took up the refrain as more survivors took notice of my entrance.

Those in better shape strained against their manacles as they tried to get my attention.

"Leave them!" Sarge commanded, his tone was angry now and his voice booming.

Ignoring Sarge, I knelt beside the nearest of the slaves. I smiled reassuringly at the bald, middle-aged woman. Her blue skin was wrinkled and greying with age. Blood coated her shoulder, and it had been torn open when the train had crashed.

She watched me cautiously as I examined her restraints, but she didn't flinch away from my touch.

I jerked upright as the echoing click of a gun's safety being removed echoed loudly behind me.

Before I could turn the familiar stutter of an M-16 rang out, my guts turned to ice, and I waited for the bullets to ricochet within the compartment.

The expected carnage didn't arrive.

"We're outta time!" Sarge shouted, firing off another burst of rounds into the sky. This time something metallic crashed to the earth. He'd tagged a small drone.

"I'm not leaving them," I insisted sullenly as I started working on the woman's restraints.

Using my boot knife as a makeshift screwdriver, I eventually freed one of her hands, then the other. Once she was free, she fled. I didn't blame her. I wouldn't have stuck around either.

By the time I reached the fifth and final person, I felt I was getting the hang of things.

The light in the carriage dimmed as Sarge moved into the doorway. "We don't have time for this. Move out of the way, and I'll finish up here."

The look in his eyes told me that his aim wasn't to free the prisoner but to send them to their next life.

"I'm nearly done," I stated through gritted teeth as I fiddled with the cuffs restraining a young girl. Like the others in the carriage, she had blue skin and no body-hair that I could see. She sat looked despondently at the floor while others decided her fate.

"You're done when I say you're done." Sarge moved forward through the carriage towards me.

My knife skittered, and the final bolt came loose, freeing the girl. I lifted her from the chair and nodded towards the door.

I walked alongside her, positioning my body protectively.

As we moved past Sarge, he stuck a hand out to stop me.

"Where do you think you're going, boy?" Sarge asked. His voice sounded hard and unforgiving.

I looked him in the eye. "I'm leaving. I didn't sign up for this War, neither did you. We don't have to be part of this."

His eyes narrowed, "You're a Marine boy; you don't quit just because the going is tough."

I stood tall, puffing my chest out with pride. "Damn right I'm a Marine, and I signed up to defend America," I looked around dramatically. "This isn't America, and these missions aren't coming from the President. If I fight, it's for what's right."

I turned my back on him and started walking towards the light.

"If you take a step, I'll consider you a deserter."

I didn't look back as I continued forward.

There was the click of a gun's safety being removed.

“You don’t want to do that.” Kuwta stood in the doorway with her rifle raised. It wasn’t pointed at me, though.

“You’ll regret this!” Sarge shouted as I moved past the Orc and into the sunshine outside.

He was probably right about that.

Doing the right thing isn't always easy.

But that didn’t stop it being the right thing to do.