"I think Im gunna puke"
The artificial gravity kicked in a lot later than it should have on the dropship and Church's muttered word through clenched teeth expressed what everyone onboard felt. Bound into a biogenetic harness that barely let them breathe and then the engines kicked in making the reactive strapping feel like some internal organs where being rearranged, the agents in the hardened powersuits had a better time of it but not by much. About the only one who didnt care was O'Connor the frother who was too wired on drugs and maybe Sandy who obviously didnt seem to care either judging by his trance like state.
The trip up to the foldship had been a relatively uneventfull affair, as had the fold to the war world Dante but apparently the "real fun" began now on the final destination according to O'Connor. If skidding off the atmoshphere at hypersonic speeds, turbulance and having ones teeth rattled out of their skull was his idea of fun then it was a reminder to never travel in a one of the big wallowing garbage cans ever again. It was a crude mode of transport that was simply a case of brute force horsepower to drive what was essentially a 150 ton vehicle with all the aerodynamics of a common housebrick, that was painted grey and had two large Hoshe-Maht fusion engines attached to it.
A few extra violent manuevers suggested to everyone onboard that everything was not well, something impacted into the side of the ship moments later confirming that fact. One of the huge engines made some whinning noises as something inside fell off and proceeded to bounce around for several thousand revolutions before finally destroying something vital enough to stop it altogether. "Damn", thought Church, "Im dead". Serravalen began screaming along with some others for a moment before gforces finally caused everyone to black out.
For the first time in what felt like years Sandy felt alive, not much had changed on Dante, it was a blasted wasteland of water filled shell holes with a thick light brown, grey mist and dark reddish brown mud. Much like he'd remembered it 4 years ago when he had come here as an operative on a black BPN, hell was a sodden muddy planet worth nothing, where thousands died every day in the most awful ways for no apparent goal millions of miles from anything. The ground was full of anti personel mines, unexploded ordinance and if a person was unlucky they could sink into a quagmire of quicksand and drown. In fact a soldiers main problem was not so much hunting parties of airbourne Thresher with assault cannons or vast human wave Darknight assaults that could last for days. It was the planet itself, it hated life and he could feel it at the depths of his soul.
"Wake up sleepy head", Church for a breif moment dreamed she was back at Meny and her room mate was waking her for a test in the morning. Everything hurt and the air tasted of propellents, hot metal, dirt, stank faintly of death and this was not Meny, it was even uglier than Mort. Serravalen carried the semiconcious ebon out of the half buried dropship wreck into the wan sunlight that filtered down through the mist. "You broke some bones, so Ive fixed them. Are you still hurt?" There was some genuine concearn from the brainwaster which was also shocking to Church's rattled senses, "yes Im ok." Gnk'rll began barking orders in clipped speach, wanting a sentry picket, weapons check, where they where and a radio uplink, it didnt matter which came first as long as it was immediately. The team worked together with its customary efficiency and got the Shaktar what he needed but it did little to assist the big aliens disposition at having his mission not go exactly to plan.
"Det the ship, make for 12 Alpha Mark on the navmap, O'Connor and Sandy take point, rest take a staggered formation behind me. You two, dont wander more than 5 metres away from me", it was obvious to the commander that the two women who where used to an urban enviroment would find it hard going over the next two days. At least the bigger waster was helping the smaller ebon. It pleased him that at least they obeyed orders, worked to help each other and didnt complain, he would made a mental note of their professional performance to report later.
Sandy and O'Connor led a strapping pace across a quagmire of the heavily shelled landscape as the two forward scouts, the frother was amazed at the wasters ability to spot areas that held mines and the occasional artillery shell that hadnt exploded. For what seemed like years Sandy followed the phantom ebon boy who he had nick named 'Big grin' by this stage who danced 50 metres ahead of him, pointing out the mines, leading through mazes of SZ 09 biogenetic razorwire and occasionally stopping to snear at him if he fell or stumbled in the mud. O'Connor didnt ask any questions on the move but he was wondering if it was some magical ebb effect on the tireless waster to guide them through the danger like he did. In all his years with SLA, extended through the issue of special drugs, O' Connor couldnt explain it. Their only contact with anything living was a buzz of radio traffic on the headsets and on the late afternoon O'Connor bayonetted a lost SLA militia soldier, probably a new recruit, who had the unfortunate mistake not hiding, orders where to kill anything they came across.
Lord Gnk'rll decided that a blasted convoy of APC's would be a good place to lie up for the night. It would attract scavengers but at least there was some cover out of the rain and some protection if they where attacked. By the looks of it the 6 vehicles had already been worked over by looters several times, the bodies of the former occupants missing presumably for their armour and equipment. They checked for booby traps and set up camp, "it gets cold at night. Stay close and use the thermal blankets in the supplies to keep warm, eat, you will need the energy tommorow." Gnk'rll assigned a younger shaktar to watch over the two women and make sure they did as he said. Ktr'n waited patiently for the two women to finish the meals and then showed them how set up their blankets to keep dry. "Keep the sensor on, keep your mask close to you, sometimes the wind shifts and that can bring poisons in. Make sure your weapons are dry otherwise the water can freeze the mechanisms." They did as he said silently and without any questions so he set up outside the wreck with his sniper rifle to wait out the night. "This place is bad", Church said to Serravalen with ebb telepathy as she moved closer for warmth. "There are worse places", Serravalen replied back to her in the same fashion, "just stay close and I'll look after you. Then we'll go home."