Senior Sergeant Rasczak was StormCorps down to his very bones and he knew he always would be. That's why he was always sure he would survive.
"Mud, blood, sweat and tears!" He shouted this so the men aboard the LAAT transport could hear him above the internal whine of the engine. All ten of them looked at him and responded with "Tastes good sir!" They went back to checking their gear, quiet except for the occasional joke. He studied their faces. He could detect no sense of fear, only excitement and the steady pulse of pre-battle adrenaline.
StormCorps o the core.
The orbital bombardment had ended some ten minutes ago, when they had received orders to pile into their transports and make ready for the invasion. The entire platoon was in this region, headed straight for a city that reports indicated held defensive structures and a possible base. Whatever had occurred in space had left their platoon as the only one currently capable of making landfall for this city.
He grit his teeth and went about checking each of his boys equipment, cuffing Crolins ear for not properly securing his ammo belt. He made sure Jor and his heavy weapon, a specialized Z-8 rotary cannon, was outfitted and functional. Zevlin, the sniper, quietly prepped her Verpine shatter snipe. He had seen the girl shoot 2,400 yards, taking out two gunners within five seconds of each other, before then taking out their cannon with other precise shot. Hotshot, the demo specialist, pilled another grenade into his pack. "Hotshot, don't you think that's enough grenades?"
Hotshot grinned at him, white teeth at odds with the leathery muddy brown skin that marked him as Weequay. "Enough?," he said in a mock questioning tone. "Wuzzat?"
Rasczak snorted. "Sec the pack."
The intercom crackled. "Approaching designated LZ."
Time was here. "Alright folks, lock and load! Secure your gear and double check weapons. Helmets on. I see one unsecure white head, that's a full ass demerit. Do not piss me off!"
The squad went about finals preparations, helmets snap-hissing as they put on their helmets.
Rasczak put on his own and was briefly overcome, as always with the sudden blue white flurry of info on the helmet eyes that always occurred when his helmet I-Link connected with his armor SIS (Suit Informational System). He pressed the commlink under his helmet neck. "All linked to me?"
"Yes sir!"
"Sound off!"
Each trooper rattled of his callsign and confirmed their link. He rose, checking each helmet and ensuring their secureness with a hard slap to the head.
The intercom buzzed again. "Brace for impact. Clearing LZ."
Suddenly the transport shuddered as brief anti air rocked the LAAT. He knew that bombardment would not have taken out every anti air, but there was far less rattle than there could been had they skipped it.
He heard the fisskkkk as missiles shot from the LAAT and they shifted from side to side as they struggled to avoid contact.
"Above LZ. Prepare to disembark!"
The doors on either side of the LAAT hissed and slid open with a croak.