USCMRPG

Henniger swore as his rounds missed the quickly dodging target, he still had ninety rounds and tucked his pulse rifle under his armpit to prep for close quarters. "Watch the acid spray! Mind your backdrop!" He hollered to his squad, sweat drops slithering down his neck and into his fatigues. Thankfu...

Henniger watched his squad from the corners of his eyes as they advanced in the sweetly rank pens. Perfect deployment. A unit jammed full of vets who could run their own in any USCM line unit was a pleasure to behold, but old habits die hard. "Contact!" He heard. He twisted obliquely to the right to...

Henninger filed out of the drop with his squad. He gave simple hand signals to keep visual vigilance in a 180 degree arc opposite the First Squad, but without contact didn't go to a knee or form a tight perimeter.

Present sir.

His friend Paulson's eyes were large and bright white in contrast to his sooty face as Henniger banged down next to him into their cover. Paulson leaned out and let the enemy pos have it bbq style. Henniger waited for him to finish his long stream, then popped up to engage anything not screaming and...

Henniger had chopped about fifteen meters before he halted and changed direction out more into the open. He was at an oblique to Paulson who was running all out like his recruiter was behind him with his reenlistment docos. Henniger dug his rear boot heal in and stomped his front knee. His fatigues ...

(Sorry everyone for my absence)

Henniger popped smoke, and gave Paulson a decent head start before sprinting off after him. He wasn't leaving him hanging.

Henniger nodded and kept still, assuming as solid a shooter's stance as he could. He swept his eyes across the wreckage as Paulson worked the tracker.

Henniger saw Morse come to, and sort himself. Being behind the wheel, after Morse got himself secured, he gunned the truck into full send and approached the left flank of the wrecked fighter. "Sok, you stay on the gun, cover us weapons free." <Tag Sokolova> "Hey bud," he shouted over his shoulder to...

Henniger absorbed the developments. He looked over at Morse, then back at Paulson. He had two Marines left in his team. Sokolova was already engaged, Paulson was ready to dismount if needed. "Third Team, Sok, good work keep it up. Paulson if we dismount you're with me, extra frags." <Tag Morse, Paul...

Henniger swore and jinked APAC 2 to the left out of the path of falling debris from a destroyed missile. He got the APAC back into line behind the lead victor. "Paulson, bud, reach up and trip the breaker on the EWASP please." He shouted over his shoulder to Paulson. Resetting the electronic warfare...

Henniger nodded, "Roger, five-by." <tag Morse> He pulled into formation. He'd run insurgent ground convoy operations out on the Rim before his keelhaul into The Dawgs. No locals got between vehicles was the cardinal rule, always. A bash to the right spot or a couple rounds from the top-mount gun wou...

Henniger couldn't help but laugh at Paulson, his oldest and first real friend after being transferred in after his first unit in the grunt strike teams. "Roger Sok, you're weapons free, might want to keep that long rifle handy for her Paulson." <Tag 3rd Team> He waited for Victor Three to pull aroun...

Henniger gave a comradely punch to Sokolova's shoulder paldron. "Sok, take the turret on APC 2, I'll drive." <Tag Lcpl. Sokolova> He ran around the APC, jamming his m41 into the weapons mount on the dash. He lit the ignition and tossed his motion tracker back to Paulson. "Stow that for me my man," h...

Henniger swept his tracker in a slow arc, keeping his M41 balanced casually again at his shoulder. He had been relieved to be let loose from the surveillance operations, but Williams' death soured his return to the front line. Williams' body had been secured, no man left behind, his mind clamped dow...