Marcus listens to the others discussing where to go from here, studying the map. "How many days of supplies do we have?" he asks, tossing whatever's left in the cart. "And how much ammo?" After getting the response, he licks his lips, and sucks through his teeth. "Well, I'm not gonna pull rank, but I think we should head west. Not too far away, and from the looks of it, it'll have stuff we can break down to have our assorted engineers build something from. Like a DV-38." He cracked his neck as he looked over his team.
"Look. We can't expect help. We can't rely or even hope that anyone is coming to rescue us. That means we're on our own. We've got a nicely varied team, enough to last on our own as long as we have resources. But how many of you can use a gun effectively? I can tell just by looking, you may have guns, but you're not great shots. That means we want to stay out of combat as much as possible, for now. Priority one is survival. That means our objective needs to be to find a defensible place we can use as a base of operations. This ship?" He waves at it, then laughs. "They know where it is, it's got a few too many holes in it's hull, and it's already half-blown to smithereens. So we should head west, to get materials, and then probably south to see what weapons we can scavenge, and what defenses we can reactivate or set up.
After that? Well after that we go out, and we kill some of those fuckin' xeno bastards that shot us down. Because we're Space Marines. Never surrender, never forget, never forgive. We are Space Marines! And we do what needs doing for the sake of doing it. Let's move out! Hoo-ah!"
That was a good speech. Didn't usually have to give them back when his team was alive. Fuckin' alien assholes. The question was whether the speech would get them pumped up like he hoped it would, or make him look ridiculous.