USCMRPG

The section marched up the ramp in single column, equipment and weapons slammed against eachother and part from the boots against the metal ramp that was all that could be heard. Everyone thought about the mission at hand, in their own mind, focusing. The last boot had merely left the ramp before it started to retract, the electric pumps driving the hydraulic arms whined considerably but the ramp slowly started to fold up.

Seats had been installed along the two side walls of the ship and squad 1 sat to the right and squad 2 to the left. Everything in the belly bathed in a red hue. This was to give the troops better nightvision, if the trawler should be blacked out. The bay smelled of spacecraft fuel, grease and dust.

Last word while on the ready line was that Priest had managed contact with the crew. They had the airlock under control currently, they also said that there where 3 mutinees in total and that at least one of them where armed with a pistol.

"Ok, everyone online looking good...MacGuire, pan your head around...perfect" The LTs voice crackled over the intercom in everyones headseats.

The dropship suddenly shuddered a bit, the muffled sound of the airlock closing above it could be heard. A few seconds later a "woooosh" could be heard as pressure was equalized...then silence. "Ok stand by...release on my mark" The female dropship pilots voice echoed through everyones headsets.

"3...2...1...mark!"

With a "clonk" everything became weightless and only the belts held the troops down. A pulse rifle magazine slowly floated away from an unsecured ammunition box and struck the ceiling, sending it graciously spinning across the bay. The steering thrusters worked frantically for a few seconds then a muffled rumble of the main engines for almost thirty seconds then silence again.

The LT came in over comm again as the engines silenced. "I want Squad 1 going in first with Squad 2 close behind. The crew will wait for you in the air-lock area, so easy on the trigger. But be ready for shit hitting the fan at any time. Secure airlock and await further orders from there..." The LT disappeared with a static click.

"Two minutes" The dropship pilots voice could be heard

His eyes were closed now, and he focused on the hum of thrusters, the whining of servo's. There always was somthing about dropship travel that did this to him, but he was thankful for it, he'd seen flip-out's during a high G drop and they weren't pretty.

Somthing awoke Rednus then,a movement of an obect that should not be there. Few eyes noticed it , but he was seated perfectly...

A pulse rifle magazine was floating in front of him.

This he'd seen before, but what really drew his attention were the details.

..... the devils in them..... Chappell thought.

Inches away now, its tumbling reflected some light occasionally from the base of the magazine, and he clearly made out the '2x'sticker he'd labelled it with minutes ago....this was one of 2nd squads clips.

Attempting (unsuccsessfully) to draw eyes away from it,(and any more of the 2nd's slip-ups) he loudly proclaimed;

"...er, Damn I look good in this light ! "

Nodding, he looked around for signs of agreement ,
..... there were none.....

Bojan was trying to stay relaxed on this drop. Being in zero gravity was never a comfortable experience and the suspicious and sketchy nature of the mission details was not helping either.

Bojan scanned around the room to see how the others were doing but was distracted by a floating magazine. Trying to check all his equipment but ultimately unsuccessful in the confines, he resolved to fiddle with his book in his pocket prefering the reflective silence rather than starting up a conversation.

Ronald shouted and laughed the first minute. "Here we go guys... and girl!". After the first minute Ronald just sat and tried to not puke under the trip but did fine, in the later part of the trip it looked like he could have fallen asleep, smiling slightly with his eyes closed.

The dropship suddenly started to break and the breaking thrusters came to life with a subtle hiss. Suddenly a metallic "clonk" could be heard and the dropship shook slightly as it came to rest on the WY-109. Some more metallic sounds could be heard as the umbilical attached itself.

"Ok we hare hooked...do your thing!" The dropship Pilot said over the com.

The Marines detached and grabbed their gear, gathering around the small round airlock at the bottom of the dropship bay.

Magus had long since lost the acid churning stomach that accompainied the beginning of a mission. Now it was pure adrenaline. "Whoo," he yelled, "lets clean up some company crap!"

Sgt Caden could tell the Section was getting restless. He unbuckled his harness and headed toward the airlock. ...here's the moment of truth... He held up his arm to get everyone's attention.

"OK, Squad One, line up front. I want Dufrense tracking point with Shirak. Green, you take the heavy and follow them with Steel. Move in quick and get us a parameter. Squad Two... Bojan scans with Chappel; I'll fall in with you. Macguire and Carter, bring up the rear."

Caden felt the dropship bay was tense with anticipation.

"Remember your training. I want call-outs on any movement detected and visual confirmation before firing."

The atmospheric indicator on the airlock display went from red to green. Suddenly, the hatch's mechanism sprang to life, cracking the airlock open and forcing a gust of air over the Marines as the pressures equalized. The members of Squad One leaned forward, prepared to rush headlong into the unknown.

Kelly took her position at the rear of the group, hefting her smartgun, ready to move quickly through the airlock. She grinned in a savage anticipation. Nothing like starting the day charging into an unknown situation through a nice, vulnerable choke point.