The airlock opened with a hiss and the Leonian soldiers entered the derelict space craft in a phalanx formation, scatter-blasters poking over the rims of their force-shields. The cat-faced commander, Thundar, shook his head to adjust his mane beneath the helmet then glanced left and right, shooting his cat-face in the direction of his men. The sub-sergeant gave the commander a nod and on they advanced, scanner officer – still very much a cub named Wiley – scurrying behind them, tail swishing with glee as he directed the soldier to the life signs. Looking at the bleeps on the screen and barking out directions for some five minutes, Wiley was given pause for concern as new life-bleeps appeared on the screen, moving in fast. Reporting the abnormality to Thundar, the commander roared his cat-men into a circle formation just in time as the doors hissed open and dilapidated semi-mechanical monstrosities – the corpses filled with cogs known as Dethborgs – appeared in the doorway and rushed the troop. The rush was over quickly in a hail of scatter-blaster fire. But not before Thundar was bitten. With the conversion process beginning swiftly – with machinery spreading from the bite through every vein and blood vessel, and growing outward from Thundar’s wound – the commander quickly and quietly released himself of duty with a blast to the temple.