USCMRPG

Kurosaki was tired of waiting.

"Lieutenant Andersson? I need the schimatics of this here building now!"

Thanks Cpl!
Erik holstered his VP, securing it in it's place.
Erik accepted the flame unit plus an extra fuel tank from his Cpl.
Erik checked the unit over for fuctionality which was A-OK and checked the fuel guage a little over half.
He stowed the addtional tank within easy reach in a cargo pocket and secured it so it couldn't fall out but he could pull it out easily.
The larger weapon made him feel more safe, at least for the moment.
He went back to following his Cpl and monitoring his tracker.

The thundering of boots, the clattering of armour clanging away on the narrow confines of the airshaft and the sound of his own heart hammering away in his chest seemed to drown out everything else as Obi moved as quickly as he could in a crouch.  His legs started to burn under the strain from moving at such a quick pace while in such an awkward position.  Suck it up Marine!  It will hurt more if those things get you!   He urged himself along.



"Come on 3rd Sqd, keep it moving guys."  Obi called out to encourage the remainder of 3rd Sqd as they clamoured along behind him.



Continuing to move along the air shaft, his shoulder lamp lit up a sight that made his face split into a wide grin.  "Hi! Morse!  Never fear third is here!  You can stop walking backwards and get your arse moving!"



Great, linked up with the rest of the platoon, better make the SGT's aware...  Keying his radio headset, "Honeysett, Simovic, this is O'Brien,  3rd has linked up with the rest of the platoon, over."

Looking at his pulse rifle and seeing the number......96....... did not  make him feel good at all. Running right after Dirks, Erik and Morse, made him feel good but then looking back at the big group of limbs, teeth and darkness, it didn't help.
"Oh god sir, we are almost out of here,right,right" the private asked.
"whatever"he said, the private stopped in his tracks, turned around, began to run toward the horde and started to fire.
"It was  a good life" he whispered to himself, while shooting three grenades into the aliens.
"Fuck this"
(roll shooting, grenades and anything else)