USCMRPG

Morse nodded in agreement at Sam. He knew his destiny was to die miserable and no different than some other warrior or rake in history, with no true worthy accomplishment to show for it other than a million stories to be told to people that couldn't understand then, much less care. Sam was the same way, but there was hope that in the end she might have something to show for it, a family maybe. Morse... just a graveyard of bottles and bad memories. Maybe the sea was the right place for him to end.

Of course that would counter his tattoo with serious irony.

"Born In The Thorns to Die In The Sky." But everything was the sky over Earth... and even Earth was seeming less and less like a place he belonged.

Morse overheard the comment on leaving flamethrowers behind. He nodded at Davros.

"Aint gonna need a nothin' other n' rifles, subs, n'... maybe an M56 in reserve... but those corners'll kill a man who's holdin it."

<Tag Davros

Dwight followed the marines aboard the submarine through the hatch and down the ladder, landing on the grated floor with a clank. Despite looking similar to a ships interior the sub was high quality construction everywhere he looked. Standing aside to let the next marine down, Dwight looked over to his new squad leader Henniger as he moved along to gather with the rest of the men. Dwight thought the man certainly looked like he means business and almost as if he heard the thought, Henniger barked "Third, before you stow your gear, kit inspection in our berthing area."

Grabbing his pack and supplies Dwight checked it over and prepared for inspection. His Smartgun had been replaced with a Pulse Rifle and some low-V rounds when they got assigned to this mission but the rest of his stuff was there, his VP70, an electrical-lockpick, a swiss army multi-tool and first aid kit. While he understood why they don't want a Smartgun firing off at the bottom of the ocean, Dwight was still a bit unhappy to be without it. It just didn't feel right fighting without that harness anymore. It'd been a few months since he last carried a Pulse Rifle and hefting it to look down the sights he'd forgotten how heavy it is. The weight of the Smartgun goes on your hips so you don't feel it too much, still it felt reassuring gripping the rifle again. The gun was reliable and powerful even with low-V rounds.

Lining up with the rest of 3rd squad Dwight waited for LCPL. J. Henniger USCM to inspect his gear

<tag LCpl. Henniger>

Henniger had his squad quickly open utility pouches, packs, weapon breeches, and kit bags. Satisfied that they were not only SOP on the packing list but also not smuggling any contraband ETAP ammunition, he had them stow their gear and get as comfortable and out of the way as they could manage.
He patted Dwight on the shoulder guard.

"You'll get your pig back, don't worry Marine."

<tag Dwight/3rd Squad>

He tapped his headset to the Platoon Command Net.

"Six and Five, Third clear and stowed."

<Tag LT and SMAJ>