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[NewsMuffin]

Arphus, the melee specialist, grins wildly at the hint any hint of the up and coming combat.
He methodically cleans his high caliber pistol and chain powered sword.

[Digital Hellhound]

The co-pilot pops her head in from the cramped cockpit, awkwardly positioning herself in the doorway. The wind outside slams against the windows, causing them to shake violently.

'Better strap on your helmets and filter masks, gentlemen. Weather conditions out there are getting pretty hellish, we'll face a sandstorm if this continues.'

[Strife26]

The weird higher-authority add-on in the greatcoat doesn't say anything, just snapping his mask into place on his head before going back to looking at the ceiling and tapping his fingers on his rifle.

[NewsMuffin]

Spoiler: OOC (click to show/hide)

(( OOC: Mechs? Stealth trainning? Those two terms do not even belong in the same sentence. ))

Stealth Mechs?

Arphus looks up from his weapon at the copilot, smiles a bit, before fumbling with his mask. After a minute or two, it slips on, and he straps his helmet in place.
He glances at his weapons. They shine with the radiance of the rising sun behind him, an absolutely perfect shine. He grins inside his mask, and looks out the windows.

[Fniff]

"Hey, guys... I think the management just sent us on another pointless mission. They seem to have very conflicting objectives. So, if this is just a pointless mission, let's just fuck everything up. I am tired of this megacorp shit."

[NewsMuffin]

Arphus revs his sword a bit.
"Amen to that, brother."

[Fniff]

Grunt loads his weapon, and puts on his gasmask.

"Shit, I hate this stupid fucking gasmask. It serves no point! They just want us to look like those space marines in the fucking movies! It's pointless..."

[NewsMuffin]

"Yeah, and all of the main ones didn't have to wear them. That never really made sense to me, though. Wouldn't all of the gasses n' shit fuck up their lungs?"

[Armok]

"Hey wait I think I read about these things somewhere ages ago; they give a squad conflicting orders and hax the chain of command. It's a psychological test to see how we handle it. We're probably in VR right now."

[Ochita]

*Another standard grunt shakes his head.*
"This isn't inception, or any fancy VR bullshit. This is real."

[Dwarmin]

The Tech guy speaks up again "Very real...the air here is poison...you can survive about 24 hours outside without long term effect, but after that you'll start to have flu like symptoms, shortness of breath, dizziness, confusion, vomiting, dementia...non-natives usually don't last more a few months without protection."

[Armok]

"I hear they can do all that in some of the higher end VR systems. Or maybe they designed a meatspace version of the same test."

[Fniff]

"Guys, you do know that VR is... Not that great? The best they can do is wireframe. Haven't you even seen one of them? It's big and clunky, they only use it for Blackops. Which we aren't. Even if this is meat space, it can't be a test. We are out of basic training anyway."

[Strife26]

((If no one minds, I'll start to drive the plot, shall I?))



The guys who's not really part of the team stands up and moves to the back of the aircraft, right near the opening door. It's not an easy task with the space packed with people and gear, as well as with the buffeting of the craft.

"Okay, listen up. This is going to be a hard and fast mission. Keep up, keep your shit tight. Some unknown lifeform has infected this planet. Blindsided our sorry asses, we're on damage control here. Place has been overrun."

"We're landing in the midst of the capital city, epicenter of whatever attacked here. The locals had a facility for containing their cultural history, as well as, hopefully, records of whatever happened here. We're going to get to that building and get whatever we can."

"Hostile presence is considerable, and includes the local population. We're not sure what the hell has happened to them, but we've got reports that they're rushing en masses with clubs and the like. We're the only ones in the area we can trust, no reports of hold-outs in this area. There's a chance that we might encounter some though. If anyone points a weapon at us, waste 'em."

"We're the fucking US Army. If we don't stand for something here, we'll fall for anything. EVERYONE UP. WE'RE GETTING OFF. PILOT, BEGIN DESCENT, DROP THE RAMP."

The light on the back turns green and the door opens, revealing the ruins of the city quickly approaching. A lone trail of AAA fire lances up into the sky. It's noisy as heck, even through the mask and helmet. Agent Strife's coat whips in the gusts.

"ONE MORE THING. THE REST OF THE ARMY IS TAKING THIS ROCK BACK PROPER IN FIVE HOURS. BEST THAT WE'RE AWAY BEFORE THE RODS START COMING DOWN."

The craft touches down hard, smoke conceals outside.

[Fniff]

NOTZING