It may be the twenty-fifth century, but the Marines are still looking for a few good men. The Confederation has finally disclosed the existence of Skinks, fierce aliens bent on wiping out humankind. While the rest of the universe grapples with the news, the Skink-savvy Marines of the Confederation's Thirty-fourth Fleet Initial Strike Team (FIST) have their own worries: they've just learned they can't transfer out of the unit. Who else has the skills to fight the Skinks on their home turf when the time comes? Morale isn't improved by a report of Skinks on the uncolonized world of Ishtar--which means that FIST must turn around and head right back into the jaws of hell with no downtime. But none of that matters to Lieutenant Charlie Bass and the third platoon of Company L. They're Marines, they're the best, and they've got a job to do.
It may be the twenty-fifth century, but the Marines are still looking for a few good men. The Confederation has finally disclosed the existence of Skinks, fierce aliens bent on wiping out humankind. While the rest of the universe grapples with the news, the Skink-savvy Marines of the Confederation's Thirty-fourth Fleet Initial Strike Team (FIST) have their own worries: they've just learned they can't transfer out of the unit. Who else has the skills to fight the Skinks on their home turf when the time comes? Morale isn't improved by a report of Skinks on the uncolonized world of Ishtar--which means that FIST must turn around and head right back into the jaws of hell with no downtime. But none of that matters to Lieutenant Charlie Bass and the third platoon of Company L. They're Marines, they're the best, and they've got a job to do.
