USCMRPG

The Marines moved further into the depths of the station. They leap frogged past the location of their previous conflict, the bodies of the xenomorphs were no longer in site, the massive form of the queen was also absent. The doorway down into the engine room was slagged, leaving the only entrance the queen's emergent point. They carefully descended into the opening, dropping down on their lines. No sign of living Xenos, whether visual or on the motion detectors was visible. The atmosphere, was warming and a thin fog filtered the light. Closer examination revealed the walls to be covered in a black resin like substance.

"I've got a really bad feelin' about this." Ward said aloud for the platoon to hear.



The bodies were gone. Even the hulking corpse of the queen of the xenomorphs had somehow disappeared into what seemed like thin air. They had to enter through the queen's emergence point, which was not a fun experience. The more they advanced, the warmer the area became. The resin like substance surrounding them disturbed him. It was almost as if they were stuck in some sort of bee hive.

"So I guess this is where those fuckers' like to hide, eh?" Ward whispered to his squad leader.



Last thing they needed was to be ambushed, though, his shoulder lamp was becoming less helpful by the second. The fog was breaking up the illuminating beams and it was almost impossible to see more than a few meters due to the thickness of the fog. He scanned the area with his rifle, more alert than ever. His heart was beating fast. Abnormally fast. His adrenaline was pumping and if someone were to feel his pulse, it could be described as a machine gun going off in speed.

Ward took a deep breath. He needed to remain calm. Getting hyped up or scared would only make his situation worse and would impair him from working at one hundred ten percent. He needed to give the platoon as much attention to detail as they were giving him. He would do it. He reminisced back to recruit training and remembered when he lead Schrodder and a few of his old and new friends through the forest on PI, eventually ending in a confrontation between Artan and himself. He wondered what happened to Artan. It had been quite some time since he had seen him.

Ward shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind. He needed to stay focused. For the platoon's sake, he needed to stay aware of what was going on around him. Not reminiscing about a past that felt like occured ages ago.

(roll detention and sense danger)

So here we are... Morrison thought.

"Lissen up hooligans" Morrison snapped his fingers above his head, and spat at the deck before continuing; "command team, we are going in with first squad. Dugan, you lead the platoon in setting up a defensive perimeter here- we might be coming out in a hurry, so be ready for that. I don't like this shit anymore then you do, but let's get this over with and go home. Any questions? Good, get moving Marines, we're not gettin' paid by the hour!" as his habit went, he barked out the last two sentences.



As he held his pulse rifle at the high-ready, he turned to first squad "Yo, Fox- you got point. I'll be right behind ya."

Tyler slid down the rope, into the xenomorph hive. When he touched down, he was confronted by a bizarre atmosphere, catching him off guard momentarily.

No longer did it feel like he was on a space station. Rather, it felt more like an alien planet to him. The metal walls which he was familiar with was now replaced with some strange black substance, and a fog floated through the air. The strange part was that it fascinated Tyler, a little.

Lt. Morrison's voice snapped Tyler out of his stupor. He regrouped with his squad upon hearing the orders, taking the tracker off his belt and firmly grasping it in his sweaty palm. But there was one thing which annoyed him. Namely, the vary vague orders that they had received. Go collect intel. Might as well just tear this whole section of the station out

"Sir, what exactly should we be looking for? I mean I know intel, but that's rather vague. Pretty much anything in this chunk of the station could qualify as intel. Anything specific?"

Roberts hated watching the men enter the hole without him, but he would have to deal with it. He turned to his squad. "Do whatever Sergeant Simovic says."

Erika felt really puzzled in this strange zone. She did not feel confortable, her hearth was pumping.

"We will succeded. Do not worry... We will come back" she whispered

Corporal Dwayne C. Hicks wrote:Roberts hated watching the men enter the hole without him, but he would have to deal with it. He turned to his squad. "Do whatever Sergeant Simovic says."

"Yes sir" answered Erika

(roll motion detection, tracking, sense of danger and female 6th sense)

Morse both liked, and disliked this place. He liked that it was so warm, in a way it reminded him of home, and he hated the cold, but he really disliked how thick the air seemed, and the fog on the ground made it a very dislikable situation. So he kept his weapon at the ready

We are still lookin for the guys we lost we lost right, maybe we should, call some names out

<tag anyone

"Negative. I would say that we move silently. If we yell something out, those cockroaches will come out and attack us and eat us"



Petrova continued to look at the ceiling.

Simovic descended into the gaping void left by the queen with the rest of the marines. He noticed firstly the air around them quickly turning humid, then the walls of the metal station quickly giving way to black swirls of organic looking material, a thin veil of fog clung to the floor covering their boots. This place seemed to him like the hell that the priests sermons had told him of as a young boy. As they entered the opening Simovic lit a few M94 flares dropping them near the entrance, incase they had to make a quick retreat at least they'd know where the exit was.

"Lissen up hooligans" Morrison snapped his fingers above his head, and spat at the deck before continuing; "command team, we are going in with first squad. Dugan, you lead the platoon in setting up a defensive perimeter here- we might be coming out in a hurry, so be ready for that. I don't like this shit anymore then you do, but let's get this over with and go home. Any questions? Good, get moving Marines, we're not gettin' paid by the hour!"

"Roger that, good luck".



"OK 2nd Squad set up the two Sentry Guns, in the corridor near the entrance incase the Xeno's try to flank us, they're also be able to cover our retreat once out of the hole. 3rd Squad try to throw up some barricades so we can get a bit of cover, one on the left and one on the right. 3rd Squad will defend the left barricade and 2nd the right. Watch your fire as the potential for friendly fire is very real. Lastly we can't risk any explosives down here".





[O.O.C any chance of a map of the area?]

Jerome heard the orders as he approach and moved behind Lt. Morrison.Looking at the alien wall jerome though damn this things could be everywhere as the walls resemble the monsters it self.

"Sir do you have a rough idea on where to start our sweep?"

"Orders, Gunny?" Ward inquired, looking at Screaming-Eagle.



He really wanted to get out of this place. It gave him the creeps and he could tell there was something off about it. The only good thing was the warmth. He was born in Virginia and to him, it had the weirdest weather in the U.S. He had always hated the cold. Never had he gotten used to it. He enjoyed the heat of summer as long as it was not too hot. Though he was thankful he did not grow up in places like Arizona where the heat was almost unbearable.

Ward kept his rifle at the ready. No telling what they would see here. He felt he was being watched and was sure others' felt it too. He would have rather been in a squad like Roberts', but nope. He was put in Screaming-Eagles'. Luckily, it seemed Eagle was a vet. Knew what he was doing. They might even come out of it alive. He originally wanted to kick ass in the outer reaches of space, not be a hero, but definitely get some action in. Now, he just wanted his first mission to be done and over with. That is, if he came out of it alive. It would suck if he died on his first op, but it has happened to Marines in the past. Whose to say it would not happen here.

He shrugged these thoughts off. He had to stay focused. Something he was having a problem with. His overactive mind was distracting him with the 'what ifs'. He needed to tune that out. Though it would be hard in any case. He needed to nonetheless. He awaited his orders from the Gunnery Sergeant. They would be moving out soon, he knew that much for sure.

(roll detection and sense danger)

Morse kept stepping advancing with the group, weapon up, ready to fire, medical bag at his side, ready to give aid to anyone who might need it. He knew he wasn't gonna be the best of use in a fire fight, he was about average when it came to aiming, and he wasn't the best at physical combat. No he was a medic through, and through.

As he walked, something came into his head, the problem from earlier, and he had to bring it up again, It was to late to be turned around now anyway, so he just decided to go forward and say it.


He walked very slowly and quietly to Erika and said very quietly to try to have no one hear, but since it was very quiet anyway it was likely it was louder then he thought.

How much longer do you think you can go with no one noticing, im gonna have to tell the sergeant about it sooner or later. You got what you wanted, your still here, but one way or another he's gonna have to know about it

<Tag Erika

He knew Erika would understand exactly what he was talking about, he just was still trying to make sure that no one else did either, as it would do everyone else good to stay with the mission, but he would still have to tell the sergeant about what he knew eventually

James looked at where the battle had been fought. I should have been there. He thought to himself.

"Stay alert Marines. They could be anywhere, and hit us anytime." He said looking into the darkness for any movement.

"Ya look at these walls it even looks like the xeno monster itself who know we would walk right pass one?"



Jerome felt that they should flame the walls for safety precaution

"Hor, shut it. Just keep looking for a target. The more you open your mouth, the greater chance they'll find us with our pants' down." Ward said.



Was he the only one who changed significantly after seeing the death of a comrade? They were in the middle of enemy territory and some people still could not shut their mouths for more than a minute. He shrugged. They would learn. It just took Ward less to learn then it took them. Ward moved forward and stood alert. After what Screaming-Eagle just told him, his bad vibes had grown from an annoyance to a headache, figuratively. His senses screamed out at him to turn around and forget about the mission, but his training told him otherwise. Besides, he was a Marine. Marines never retreated from a fight unless ordered.

He shut off his shoulder lamp. It did not do a knick of good down in the foggy tunnels created by the aliens. The fog was too thick for the beams to penetrate. Ward had wondered back in recruit training, one night before inspection of their rifles, what type of enemy he would be using his rifle to kill with. He had not known the answer to that question was only months away. Ward was becoming afraid of being down in the tunnels. In so doing, he recited the "My Rifle" poem he had to recite in boot every night before lights' out.

'This is my rifle, there are many like it, but this one is mine.
My rifle is my best friend. It is my life.
I must master it, as I must master my life.
My rifle without me, is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless.
I must fire my rifle true.
I must shoot straighter than my enemy, who is trying to kill me.
I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will...
My rifle and myself know that what counts in this war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our bursts, nor the smoke we make.
We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit...
My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life.
Thus, I will learn it as a brother.
I will learn its weaknesses, its strengthes, its parts, its accessories, its sights, and its barrel.
I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage.
I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as I, am clean and ready.
We will become part of eachother. We will...
Before God, I swear this creed.
My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country.
We are the masters of our enemy.
We are the masters of my life.
So be it, until there is no enemy, but peace.'

Before the Corps, he had much trouble reciting the full poem. Now, Ward knew it by heart. Something he was proud of. His nerves were now calm and he gripped his rifle tighter. This was his rifle and no xenomorph was going to wrench it from his hands. He would die holding this rifle, even though he would rather much survive. He would fight and if he died, at least he knew he would go out fighting.