USCMRPG

Date: 17th August, 2080AD, 2100 UT
Location: Barnard's Star, PT-554
Operation: Training Op
Mission timer: 04:25

The Marines in the cave moved closer and closer to the pale light. Suddenly the cave opened up and the roof disappeared, rain poured into the collapsed roof of the cave. Steele immidiately radioed their current position and thirty seconds later the whine of the dropships engines could be heard from above.

The Apache dropship had a wire and a harness that could be used to hoist people from the ground aboard - One by one the Marines of the 8th platoon where hoisted into safety aboard the dropship.

At the horizon the black clouds drew nearer for every minute. Carson, the dropship pilot, fought the gashing winds with all her skill. After ten tense minutes the last Marine, Pvt Green, set foot aboard the dropship.

The completely soaked marines scattered, exhausted, in the bay of the dropship. A single reddish light bulb cast a pale red hue over the interiors.

"Time to haul ass!" Carson yelled from the cockpit.

Hooking an arm around a support strut Jones knows they are about to go near vertical and he doesn't want to slip off his comfy stretcher.

Looking around, Jacob breathed a sigh of relief - it was over. They were safe for the time being...

"Some training mission eh?" He grunted, consciously sitting as far away from Green as possible he lit up a fag...



looking at second squad he saw...well...a mess "Jesus H, what happened to you guys?" He exclaimed, blowing smoke through his nose

Apachetear wrote:"Jesus H, what happened to you guys?" He exclaimed, blowing smoke through his nose

Spitting at the floor, Morrison ran his hands through his hair before answering his fellow squaddie: "We ran into a fortified position. Got fucked up pretty bad- but not as bad as however it was that we met down there." he spat at the deck again, not caring if he hit someone or not.

Bojan looked around to see what had happened to second squad, the dim lighting lit most of his platoon mates faces in a stark relief. Bojan was content just to find a seat and relax after that short ordeal.

To his old squad leader he said, "Morrison, you need any help with anything I'm here. That goes for anyone really." Bojan was still on the mission and if anyone needed help he didn't want them to think they were encroaching on his relaxation.

AstroBoy wrote:"Morrison, you need any help with anything I'm here. That goes for anyone really."

"Naw. I'm alright." Morrison answered his former squadmate "how about you? Anything you need, besides sleep, female company, beer and a juicy steak?" he spat at the deck again.

Morrison shook his head as if he just remembered something, and then stumbled his way across the cargohold, to Bren;

"Doc- you've been awfully quiet since we dis our dustoff- is everything ok?" Morrison asked.

Jocke wrote:
Spitting at the floor, Morrison ran his hands through his hair before answering his fellow squaddie: "We ran into a fortified position. Got fucked up pretty bad- but not as bad as however it was that we met down there." he spat at the deck again, not caring if he hit someone or not.

Looking at the wounded he mouthed to Morrisson 'are they going to make it?'
before changing subject..."Hey, on the other hand I picked up some night vision goggles...nifty eh?"

Ronald Green, the man with red hair and green eyes sat back and sighed softly. At last he was safe for a while and he closed his eyes, smiling even, for now he ignored if people talked to him and hopefully someone would tell him whats going on for real.

Apachetear wrote:Looking at the wounded he mouthed to Morrisson 'are they going to make it?'
before changing subject..."Hey, on the other hand I picked up some night vision goggles...nifty eh?"

Morrison shrugged at the subvocal question, turning his palms up in the universal don't-ask-me-I-just-work-here gesture.

Morrison snickered at the sight of Jacob sitting there, across the deck from him, with a lit smoke in his mouth, and proudly displaying the clearly non-issue NVG's.

"Seems like Con had a bad influence on someone." Thomas couldn't help but to smile.

Date: 17th August, 2080AD, 2100 UT
Location: Barnard's Star, PT-554
Operation: Training Op
Mission timer: 04:25

Slumping into one of the dropships seats, Nick cast an experienced eye over the 'Easy Eights'. First and Recon didn't have any major injuries although all of them were sopping wet from their escape from the tunnel system, but Second Squad had a couple of marines down and Nick knew he had to inform Lt Vincent of what had occured at the tower.

Forcing himself to stand up again, Nick wandered over to where second squads injured were.

"Morrison, who's down from your squad?" he asked.

Jocke wrote: "Seems like Con had a bad influence on someone." Thomas couldn't help but to smile.

"This assassin we caught had 'em on her - I decided to loot her before throwing her outside, she got torn apart by fire from her own people...you know for friendly fire it really isn't that friendly..." Jacob's eyes seemed to be staring straight through the dropship wall, he was considering to himself that he didn't think he'd ever be capable of such ruthlessness...

"Yeah, Con's light-fingeredness must have rubbed off on me..." He said absent-mindedly, slowly dropping and crushing his cigarette end on the floor of the ship

"Yeah, Con's light-fingeredness must have rubbed off on me..."

"yeah if I were you i'd hold onto those google really hard and maybe even sleep with them 'cause i may not be able to help my self."

"Although i'm kinda getting tired of this whole thing, I mean stealing, for me, used to just be away to get abit of cash to stay alive, but now, i dont know, maybe i should do something with my marine career."

StConstantine wrote: "Although i'm kinda getting tired of this whole thing, I mean stealing, for me, used to just be away to get abit of cash to stay alive, but now, i dont know, maybe i should do something with my marine career."

Laughing sharply, Jacob looked at Con "Con, you're a marine - not a thief...you don't need to steal cash to stay alive now...you need to hide behind a fucking huge object with a prayer and a curse on your lips...Career-wise, well - I suppose we all have to sit tight and wait for the brass" He eyed the LT briefly "To tell us how many stripes we're allowed on our shoulder when we're sent off to die..."

A little cheer from the wounded gallery that turns to a gentle moan.

Morrison looked up at the hairless sarge, and ran his hand over his face before answering: "Two- McKenzie and Jones. Three if you count the dog." he said in a monotone voice.



He then turned his attention to the bantering of Con and Smiles.

Good thing that they're in one piece.

"So, Smiles, did you get her wallet, too? Or did Con beat you on that one?" he grinned to the dynamic duo.