Authors note: I do not own any characters, places and any other ideas except for ones I make up myself. This is also my first FanFic so don't expect much. If I make any mistakes please tell me. Cheers and enjoy.
Corporal James Cordren looked up from outside the twelve inch thick blast doors and sighed. Everything seemed alright with the base. Radio said that something evil was coming out of the gateways on Phobos but Cordren believed that it was the volunteers that were sent into the gateways that were the culprits. The troublemaker on the team used to have the job of clearing up the mess after those psychos, but now he was back in the marines but given all the crappy jobs.
Cordren signalled the rest of the fire team.
"Brent" he said as he pressed the button on his body armour to kick in the man to man communicators
"Brent are you there?"
Brent was his team partner. That meant that when in a dangerous environment they paired up, each was responsible for watching the back of his partner, and his partner had his back. When on recon the ten man squad split into five groups.
"Brent, where the hell are you?" Cordren yelled, more out of annoyance than anything.
"I'm about ten, no twenty meters from you, to the south".
The reply was loud in his ear, he always intended to get his com fixed one day but never got round to it. Cordren swung his rifle around, the small but powerful lamp pack fixed to the tip highlighting Private, first class, Brent. He had entered through a different entrance to Cordren and swept the entrance hall.
"See anything?" asked Cordren.
"Nah" replied Brent "It's clear".
Cordren returned his attention back to the reinforced steel door. He scanned his light beam across the door
He wondered to himself how the hell you are supposed to get passed that much solid steel. Something caught his attention at the bottom right hand side of the door it was a puddle of some kind of blackish brown liquid. Cordren scooped up a small amount on two of his fingers. It was thick and sticky, he instantly regretted scooping it up and rubbed it on the floor
"Right" he yelled, "Get Sarge and the other teams on the radio, tell them perimeter secure".
Ten minutes later all five squads were outside the main doors. The lieutenant in charge was a bull of a man named Gaskin. He made all orders and made no reference to the sergeants even though the youngest among them was seven years more experienced than the lieutenant. No one was expecting a rear attack but a man was needed to secure the perimeter just in case. The lieutenant had no doubts about the man needed.
"Use the troublemaker so we can stop worrying about him ruining the standard sweep." And so, when the doors were powered up the five teams marched in leaving Private Flynn Taggart to Guard the entrance
