Coffee in hand, Obi headed back to the Armoury. Strolling along the passageways of Gateway station he reflected on the brief for the upcoming OP. Can those things even survive in Zero-G? How the hell can we expect to move quickly in a bulky suit, those things are damn fast.
Obi shuddered as he recalled the mission to Anubis Station, at how quickly those things moved out in the open and their freakish ability to jump and climb. Still not fast enough to out run a hypervelocity M42 round.
Obi felt grim satisfaction, knowing that he was able to send a few of those horrible things back to hell.
Sipping his coffee, Obi moved past a view port that offered a spectacular vista of Earth. Stopping, Obi gazed out, looking down at the birthplace of humanity. A flash of movement caught his eye as a trio of UD-4 Cheyenne dropships flew by and rolled into a dive towards the atmosphere. Merchant ships docking and undocking providing the life blood for Earth and her outer colonies. USCN warships darting about swiftly, a pair of Frigates and what looked like a Destroyer, Obi thought as he squinted to make out the ship in the distance where herding a small group of merchant ships that were in the process of forming up. Must be another deep core convoy dash. Those reports must be accurate about raiders and pirates for such a heavy escort for a small convoy.
Obi mused as he watched the final merchie’ take its station and the convoy get under weigh, the warships darting around in their protective screening sectors. Finishing his coffee, Obi looked down at Earth one last time. A hardened resolve swelled up in him. Those things killed the personal on Anubis, my comrades, the poor lass in the sewer. Well no more, not on my planet you fuckers, not on my watch.
Without a further glance Obi tossed his cup in a nearby trash receptacle and headed towards the Armoury.
Rounding the corner in the passageway Obi saw that the entrance to the Armoury was open and sounds of weapons being stripped and chatter carried out into the passageway.
Lt Moore passed the living quarters carrying a datapad and seemed to be in a hurry. He talked to someone over a wireless earpiece, arguing over something. Waved to the marines absently as he passed.
Seeing the LT, Obi raised his right hand in a quick snappy salute, to which the LT ignored and moved right by him, talking the whole time into his earpiece. Well fuck you to Sir!
Entering the armoury Obi waved in greeting as he moved over to the weapon holding/charging racks. Removing his M41A he slung it over his shoulder and moved further down the line and took up the M42 Sniper Rifle that he used to great effect on his first mission. Patting it affectionately, Obi grabbed some cleaning gear headed over to a spare bench and put both weapons down. Looking around he asked,
“Any one seen any of the other lads from Two Section?”
Picking up the M42 first, he extended the bipod legs and stood the rifle upright on the bench top. Swiftly breaking the weapon down to a basic field strip, not a full strip, Obi took up a cleaning cloth, dabbed a little bit of cleaning fluid on it, wiping down the parts of the weapon, enjoying the calm that came from performing a task. He smiled every now and then listening to the comments and calls from the marines around him.