Being thrust into a leadership role really should have knocked me off-balance. Same stuff all-around, the responsibility of leading thirty-ish souls into what was, at the time, largely unknown was daunting. Blah blah blah, responsibility. It's things like these I'd have expected to feel, what with the memory wipe and all.

Thing is, I felt quite fucking exhilarated.

Think about it, I've been thrust into a virgin world under the guise of exploration and reconnaissance, possibly in preparation for an all-out occupation. I'm in charge of a group of men and women who have a claim to being the first to arrive. All the things we could leverage over the people of this world. The things we could withhold from the worlds beyond this one. The fucking monopoly of resources at my fingertips.

I'd be remiss to not see the possibilities, everything I could take. Oh, the joys of the unknown.

Memory wipe or not, I still have the same tendencies. All that talk about not having changed allegiances was accurate, my allegiances are to my self.

For the fatherland, indeed.

Regardless, I had thirty hulking boys and girls looking to me for answers. I had gazes to meet.

"G' day gents and lasses, I'm Major Naird." I raised my hands to calm them. "Now, I know we're all confused and clueless. Let's fix that. Count off from the front, start with the left. Name and rank, followed by a number. "

Nothing quite like being told what to do from the get-go, always helps keep the folks in line. The meatbags began counting off, which is what I'd have liked for them to do until they didn't. Fucking meatbags.

"What's the holdup?" I asked, eyeing each of their name tapes. I looked to one of the scrawnier males, this one didn't seem to know what a count-off was. "Daniels, Corporal. One. That fucking simple." I turned to face the rest of them. "Look at your tits, fuck's sake."

They all gawped at each other's chests. The males eyed the females' chests as if I'd given them a ticket to horntown.

None of them thought to look at their name tapes.

The count ended at thirty-four, just enough for three sections, myself, and an XO. I had them run off to their lockers and take a peek at their dossiers.

I retreated into my locker, taking stock of everything I could see.

I was in fatigues, with a digital watch and glasses I'd failed to notice earlier. The room was quite large, about fifty paces on both sides. Seemed pre-made, just packed really well into the walls.

In the locker was my body armor, the dossier, a few sets of fatigues, and some other protective bits.

I opened the folder to get a read on the situation. There was a note.

Major Naird,

You must already be frothing at the prospect of a world ripe for the picking. Your expedition was sent out to recce this world and provide all relevant information necessary for future occupation. Great leverage, eh?

It's not like the others, I'll give you that. You won't remember any of the other worlds you've seen thus far, but none of them hold a candle to the one you're about to fuck. Everything else pales in comparison to the resources, scale, and complexity. I hope you know this entails more danger, too.

Before you start screaming at me in the next report about the shit you're in, you should know:

You signed up for this.

- COL. Laurelle.

Well, shit. I glance at the men and women in the room. Thoughts filled my head, and none of them were apprehensive. I'll be taking this world by the neck, thank you.