Research Level
Corridors 1A-3B
2:30am
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"No one's ever told you that cynicism is most unbecoming of you?" O'Riley mused into the comms unit, her voice using the best attempt at fake-class as she could muster.
"Oh, they've mentioned it once or twice." Anthon returned in his droll tone, placing his weapon around the corner of a hallway intersection: nothing.
The weapon's direct link between his HUD and the camera flickered once before the night vision faded and motion trackers turned on. Click. Pause. Click. Pause. Click. Pause. Again, nothing. Just to be sure, he flicked the safety off his weapon and cautiously took a step around the corner, shoulder braced to the left should something leap out at him. Nothing did. His arm adjusted the aim on his rifle to the classic breach-and-clear style they'd drilled into him when he joined the corps. There was no light in the hallway but for the dull flickering of a near-dead light fixture overhead.
"Contact report." He muttered into his comms unit, barely above a whisper.
O'Riley replied with 'nothing' and Anthon let out a brief sigh of relief; he'd been paranoid for nothing. He'd be damned if anything was on board this ship except for burned out bots, oxygen starved crew, and the rest of the team. Out of the sixteen breaches he'd been through, none of them had contained anything more exciting then a group of local militia. That had been an easy clear: most of them didn't even know how to reload their weapon without jamming it. The idea that this would be any different seemed ridiculous as he crept through the corridor one foot at a time.
"So, tell me why we're here, sir." O'Riley broke the radio silence.
"It's the job you-"
He was cut off. "You could have any unit you wanted and you picked us. Moreover, you picked us three specifically."
Anthon paused, considering the best way to word the response underneath the flickering light. "There was no reason. They gave me a pick of so many planets, and I picked your planet. Sappers are always needed on this type of mission. All of your track records were better than those before you, so I took from second company."
"Right when I was thinking you were entirely a bastard." She responded; the click of her motion tracker could be heard over the silence on her end.
"I'm heading back to the landing unit to wake up the other two. Time we swap watches." Anthon finally admitted, realizing the dull ache in the back of his head and the burning in his eyes.
O'Riley confirmed that and Anthon began his long way back to their landing site. With any luck, Drake and Meson would be up and ready upon their arrival. Something about this ship was unsettling to him, though he couldn't place a finger on why. Perhaps it was the lack of power coupled with the airless and noiseless environment around him. Life support had been cut or destroyed outside of their landing zone, and the only noise was that of their internal systems. Everything else was as silent as the void of space outside.
But why am I so paranoid?