Meeting the Squad.

The Murphy's Law. Gray, banged up with even fresh blaster rounds to the hull, it looked like heaven. To the glory hoger part of my mind at least.

Outside such a thing was a line of four squads. Some green with no scars and a nervous body language. Others covered in them with a nice hint of killing intent behind it. Orderly bags in front of each member.

"Thomas I take it?" A gruff voice sounded out to the group in front of the formation. Said voice coming from a 60 year old looking Male with a grey crew cut. he screamed officer and I snapped to attention fast enough to break a spine. "At ease Sergeant. you are the second to last to arrive. Go get to known your squad leads and mates before we leave."

Walking away and leaving me with two people, a Male and Female. I was the first to speak up. "Thomas. Thomas Linfall." I reached out to shake hands and got a positive response.

"Call me Glenn." The Male responded back. The man was under six feet. With black hair and a even stricter standard to the Marine appearance code. "You smell like a officer Glenn." The man's only response was a smile and "I know."

The woman seemed to be of the silent type. Not wanting to shake hands as she merely nodded in her pilots outfit. "That's Alex. dont try prying she wont budge." Glenn said. He seemed to have already tried.

"On that note might as well give you your squad." Glenn pointed to the second line of men from the right. "Those fellows are yours."

A quick nod and I headed off. Standing before the group and gesturing towards the ship. "Let's go in and be the first to find bunks!" My men, dumb struck for a second before reality kicked in grabbed there duffle and raced up the ramp. The grumbling of squads coming after my order.

"Meet you all inside!" Power walking my way in my guys were smart enough to take the nice bunks near a wall. "Bags on the bed and gather around children. Time to introduce yourself because the fellows around you are going to be watching your back. Be it for a few days or years."

The entire squad was Male. Three of them hardened criminals and one who screamed civilian. "Also. try to take care of that fellow." I pointed to said Civilian.

Silence soon followed as I waited for someone to speak first.

"People call me Flint. I like explosives a bit to much and that is why I am here.." Five and a half feet of Latino spoke up. Though the name oddly matched as the parts of his revealed body showed burn marks. the tips of his fingers blackened and calloused on closer inspection.

"Jenny here. Ran a bit of a trade caravan in one of the more..illegal sections on earth." The man screamed cowboy even though the last one died years ago. The caucasian man even wore one of the hats and tilted belt holsters they loved.

"Good to know. And you?" I pointed at the Newbie of our group.

"Smith. They call me Smith." I could not help but laugh. The man even in a suit! The older 'Mr. Smith' as he was now named looked almost like the main villain in a sci fi flick that still ran all the years later. "I um. Did contract work for certain companies.."

Most everyone looked at the main now. "You were a Hitman?" I was the first to ask. "No no! I was a computer specialist! I tracked and sometimes even helped make a opening for, um, people with more technical experience." The man never admitted to the end.

"Uh huh..well nice to meet you Smith. Next." My eyes hovered on the last fellow. Another caucasian man with slick back, black hair and biker gear adorning his body.

"Jonathan. Was part of 'The Dawn' biker gang in Atlanta. Have shot and killed plenty." His thick southern accent seemed to kill the serious fellow. "Well then. You all can call me Sergeant or Sergeant Thomas. Booted put of the Marines for laying one hell of a hit woman."