Most troopers were in the mess hall when the claxon sounded. Most just sat there with a greasy goon-burger dripping from their hands. "Whazzat?" murmured some. "Always when I'm eating" moaned others.

But then the poisonous outer atmosphere from the open air-lock wafted across the room, forced along by the big air-conditioning units stationed throughout the base. A few lucky troopers had a helmet nearby, though most of those were too confused by the clamour of the claxon to actually put it on in time.

Gasping and clawing at their throats the goon-troopers fell in waves.