USCMRPG

Sonny pressed himself tighter behind the cargo case, as rounds cracked through the steam.

“Copy, Paulson. Looking for another way out!”
<Tag Paulson>

<First Aid: PASS — 2 Successes>
He turned his attention back to Wynn. Training took over. Sonny worked quickly, controlling the bleeding and ...

The first burst of gunfire sent Sonny down behind a cargo pallet. So much for incognito.

“Fenrir squad, weapons free, suppressing fire!” Paulson barked over the comm.

Sonny spotted Dana Wynn through the smoke, slumped against the cargo case at the base of the elevator. Blood was already soaking ...

Sonny resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. Cowboy's warning was enough. Instead, he slowed near a vending machine, pretending to fish a few worn credits from his pocket while letting the polished metal reflect the concourse behind him.

Gray jacket. Military posture. No company patch ...

Sonny fell into step beside Cowboy, keeping his pace casual as they moved with the flow of workers toward Gate 12.

“I spy something...” Cowboy began, his forced western drawl doing little to hide the thickness of his Scottish accent.

Sonny glanced around without turning his head too sharply. A ...

The boarding ramp clanged against Landing Pad K-17, and Sonny stepped out with the rest of the team, keeping an easy pace as though he'd walked refinery decks his entire life. The depot assaulted every sense—hot metal, fuel fumes, the whine of pumps, and workers shouting over machinery. He pulled ...

Sonny finished securing the last of his gear aboard the concealed Cheyenne before stepping back onto the *Magellan's* cargo deck. His compact medical kit rested discreetly against his hip, while everything that identified him as a Colonial Marine remained hidden with the dropship.

The compartment ...

Sonny had traded his combat armor for a set of well-worn cargo trousers, heavy work boots and a faded maintenance jacket borrowed from the *Magellan's* stores. The fabric smelled faintly of hydraulic fluid and machine grease—perfect. Nobody looked twice at another dock worker.

His medical gear had ...

“Fenris squad grab some food then start drawing gear, double loads of ammo and enough supplies for 4 days, I know that means the rucks will be heavy but we can always drop em if we need too. Meet in an hour for gear check and questions I should have talked with the Lt by then so there maybe more ...

Sonny listened to the mission briefing and tried to process all of the information. Sounded very familiar. WY tries to get its greedy corporate hands on someone, all other priorities recinded. That could and most probably will lead to casualities, a ton of. His job was to keep his brother and sister ...

Sonny listened to the briefing, whispered at least twenty times "what-the-fuck" to himself, shook his head at least twenty times. So, mummys little boy plays lieutenant. He needed a second to regain composure, shrugged his shoulders and thought to himself "what-the-fuck".
He strolled over to his ...

Perez entered the barn, smartgun at the ready. That stench was intense, but he had smelled worse. Giant cattles produce giant piles of shit. But something was wrong, and he knew exactly, what it was, seeing that secreted resin stuff. Xenomorphs.
Well, here we go again.

Second squat moved ahead and ...

"Fuking dumb Brass Pendejo" Perez cursed and strolled away with the others

Perez hopped down to the surface and stayed near his squad members. Being a good marine, he just awaited their orders. In the meantime, he checked his smartgun, and everything was operational and online.

Beep Beep Beep
Hello .... Anyone? .... Hello

is there anyone willing to play ?

hey, i would give it a shot, hopefully, more will show up