"Two contacts! Signals clear. Range fifty meters and closing. They're fast!" Bojan shouted over the Com. The unmisstakeable sound of the motiontrackers "ticking" sound could be heard transforming to the "pinging" sound that meant it sensed movement.
A shrill of fear gripped the marines, like a stone cold hand squeezing their hearts - Something was coming down the two corridors. Something that moved very fast.
With a feeling of despair the Marines painfully realised that the cramped corridors were far from an ideal place to fight in, at most two marines abreast could stand in the corridor. The bends would also let any enemy get uncomfortably close before they could open up. The bulky suits made it very hard to maneuver at all and all senses were hampered by it - Fighting in close combat was out of the question. On top of that the engine room was very hot and moist the thick suits did not improve this - Sweat streamed the faces of the Marines small droplets hanging onto their brows and chins before disappearing down into the suits.
The sparsely placed red lights was mere beacons in the pitch black darkness as the frequency of the pings increased each second. Faster and faster, closer and closer the contacts came. The hears ran in unison with the increased pitch, throbbing in the chest beneath the thick suit armor and uniform. The Marines shoulder lights did their best to chase the darkness away, but as soon as it left the darkness immidiately flowed in like thick sufficating black water from all directions.
"Still closing" Bojan proclaimed.
