USCMRPG

"I'll try and remember that, Ma'am." He replied jokingly, touched by the care. Moving at a racing walk, which seemed far less jarring on his new bruises then jogging, Mark crossed back to the hanger's airlock and searched for the receiving panel. The nice thing about the civilian hangers, they were ...

Mark was standing, then he wasn't. Working under adrenaline, his brain had registered the change in orientation before the discovery was quickly augmented by pain from his chest. He felt short of breath, and quickly tried to fill his lungs again, only to discover a wide and gestalt pain across his c...

"Yes, Ma'am" Giosso replied before starting to move out of line. Realizing that he was breaking formation, he gave a quick glance to Sam to make sure there weren't any supplemental instructions, and that she realized he was moving, before finishing the distance to the door. As he moved, his motiontr...

"Ma'am." Mark noted as acknowledgement as he drew his usual armament of pistol and motion tracker, crossing them in front of him. It was a trick he'd picked up from a cop girlfriend, once upon a time. The main benefit was that it let him keep a very close eye on the 'tracker the whole time. Particul...

"Yes, Ma'am." Giosso replied, "Not a problem. The door doesn't stand a chance."

Mark sat perched on one side of the dropship, reading his ebook intently. It was an escape. A way to, just for a moment, live in a world where good and evil were relatively clear cut and heroes succeeded after brief, dramatic struggles. He flipped the page with a well practiced tap of his thumb. Tho...

"Ma'am." Mark announced, interrupting the conversation to get someone's attention. "I think I've isolated the location of our observer. It's clear on the other side of the planet, though." Mark continued typing away, trying to pull up the local maps and other useful information. "I'll see what optio...

"On it, Ma'am." Giosso responded automatically. He holstered the pistol he'd never even managed to fire in the chaos and dropped back down into the computer chair. He tapped the keyboard to wake the machine up, then took a moment to pull out the portable motion tracker and place it on the table. Des...

"Ma'am." Mark replied as acknowledgment, maintaining his complete disregard for appropriate use of honorifics. He stood up and pushed the chair he had been using away, sending it rolling across the room to the far side. Drawing his sidearm from its holster on his leg, he lined it up on the doorway, ...

"Those doors are designed for vacuum, not impacts." Mark stated in a somewhat alarmed voice. Already looking at the security's camera system, he quickly tried to pull up the feeds for the areas right outside the two doors to the room. It wasn't much, but even a slight warning of what was about to co...

"Nothing stands out." Mark said as he skimmed and scrolled through the mass of nestled folders and data files. "At least not in the data I can find here. Though…." He paused for a moment, checking something quickly before continuing, "Ok, that's kind of odd. It looks like some-one else is accessing ...

Yeah. An integrated chat box (like at the bottom of this forum) would have the added benefit of bringing people to the site to use it (or be persistent at the bottom when people log in)

I've also seen forum where the first post is persistant (top of every page) which might help with Pants' issue.

Once it was clear the room was secure, Mark bushed by the rest of the team and made a beeline for the consoles. He selected one on the closest side, dropping his bag in the chair next to it. Sitting down, he examined the console. There was a fair chance that if they were overtaken by sickness quickl...

There was a level of disassociation that Mark felt being in the APC. The metal walls and sound dampening lead to a particular feeling of safety – as though the threat was not really to him, just to his friends and colleagues outside. That feeling didn't make him feel particularly more comfortable at...

My sympathies.