[h3]Geneva is a long way off[/h3]
[hr]

[b]"Litter team stand fast! Keep firing!"[/b] Danny took the change of squad leadership quickly when Park went down, in order to make sure the situation didn't deteriorate. It did no one any good to start jumping out in the middle of the firefight to save a comrade and Danny was tough on the discipline for this; in a combat situation, the Israeli was cold, but he was also calm. Some of the vets knew not to play medic, but some people never got over that impulse to save a friend, even at the expense of the overall fight.

He'd taken his shots at the Salvesh, unsure if he'd gotten a kill there, but also had a much larger weight on his shoulders now. He wasn't getting as heavily engaged as the rest of the squad because he was keeping an eye on them and making sure, though he took his shots. The squad's three LMG's, Negevs, were at work "talking" to each other; rapid bursts, adjusting aim, and more rapid bursts in synchronization. One gunner fired, then another, keeping the fire steady without wearing down the barrels. Once Park was up and back to running the squad, Danny got back to the fight, switching magazines when he saw tracers from his fire in a rapid, practiced motion. 

A couple of the rifles started to fire wildly with the 'increase fire' order and he snapped, [b]"AIM YOUR SHOTS!"[/b] They might want to fire rapidly, but they didn't want to waste ammo out here, a long way off from resupply. There was no need to use the radio net; a loud voice was his friend here. Amazingly, the breather masks were designed to allow full volume, as if there was no filter between their mouths and the atmosphere of Sauna. You could take full breaths in this thing, which was the most unbelievable blessing compared to Earth-tech systems.

When the 'lift and shift' order came, he got his first kill; one of the Salvesh was trying to take advantage of the lull and paid the price. [i]Squeeze it like a tit...[/i] was what one of the IDF instructors told him during his basic, and he never forgot the advice, partially because IDF marksmanship instructors were all women, and Israeli women tended to be a morale-boosting sight for sore eyes. He squeezed until the trigger broke and squeezed the trigger until he just felt the reset, released and squeezed again, muscle memory all the way, the ingrained habit of well-trained marksmanship for rapid-fire. He had the armorer tune his rifle precisely to work with his sense of the trigger reset, and his muscle memory. It paid off.

That one crumpled with a spray of alien blood from the chest cavity; blue on the purple and pink. Once that died down, the place went quiet for a moment, but for the occasional shots fired as the assault team finished the job. 

He took a moment in the grim satisfaction of a good kill-shot. It was countless range-days spent perfecting that in drills of all sorts to get it down to that sort of fast-smooth target acquisition and similarly close shot placement, all with nerves and adrenaline. It was too bad there was no one there to whistle at his accuracy. The moment of triumphant synergy, a decade's investment in conditioning and training would go unremarked. But he lived, it died and that was what truly mattered.

Then he remembered; K-ton was recording this, [b]"K-ton,"[/b] he called out, [b]"You got that one, right? Millionaires and fucking movie stars!"[/b] If the grin looked a little Jack Nicholson under the mask, the dialogue was the sort of casual brutality and surreal levity one expected from a Kubrick flick.

That was a moment of devil-may-care, a way to let off the tension of the engagement, where Danny was calling out orders and watching the performance of his squadmates, worrying about Park and people playing medic and making sure that they weren't being caught off guard by any Salvesh. Stupid shit, stupid humor that wasn't even funny, suddenly was great huge laughs after a firefight where you managed to live and you were relieved to be a survivor. Life had a flavor on the edge.

Back to business. [b]"Fresh mags, fresh belt. Get hydrated,"[/b] he told the team.

He was tempted to say they'd probably be moving, and to expect more Salvesh, but he didn't want people getting ahead of themselves. A minute or two tops of combat, but he felt wrung out already in Sauna's oppressive heat, sweat running rivulets down his back, soaking his shoulders and armpits and pooling around the mask and goggles he wore. 

Despite that moment of fatigue, he was still keyed; the fight had been noisy. He knew there'd be more, and he already had his eyes out. They were on security now, but at least the scout element did their job.

He glanced over at Park to assess the guy's state; it looked like he'd have a hell of a scar from that, but overall it was lucky and could have been a lot worse. 

Collins had third squad putting rounds in the fallen enemies to make sure they stayed down. Danny, a pragmatic fighter, approved. Geneva wouldn't have.

Geneva was a long way off. Humanity was in its first interstellar combat.