Ansgar hated CMC armor. Sure, it was considered the necessity of the day and age of combat for most personnel these days, doubly so since he wasn't just out picking up criminals, hunting down vagabonds, that sort of nonsense anymore. So, hardly surprising why one might question why the Marshall was sitting in the dropship, not wearing a full set of CMC armor like the majority of those within the ship itself. Doubly so, when he saw that wearing armor was important enough to be wearing light infantry's armor, a reinforced plate over his torso to protect the vitals as well as combat boots under the greaves that came with the light infantry set. Mainly? Mobility and dexterity. He'd seen a man in CMC armor, when dealing with an isolated feral zerg group, get swamped and torn to ribbons. The rest of them had been fast enough on their feet to survive, but not the Dominion fellow sent to supervise from the local Marine posting. As such, the Marshall preferred the lighter armor that would still stop a few rounds to the torso over the full armor of the Marines.

Though as he looked over the old C-10 Canister Rifle in his hands, noting the weapon that most considered bulky or awkward to use would not suit a Marine too well, at all. Ansgar preferred the 25mm explosive rounds the model used, and it made a very distinct, satisfying sound every time he fired it. Which, before hooking up with the Raiders, was very rarely. Some of his boys and himself, while out on patrol, had found themselves an old Confederate stash of gear. Wisely they had kept the stuff to themselves, considering how little trust they could put in the Dominion since, well, they had mostly just painted over the old Confederate stuff with the new Dominion colors, and flew a new flag to change. Sure, most of it, compared to modern Dominion tech, was rubbish, but the C-10's they had found were not. And considering how the Raiders and Ansgar had met, well, that was a story for another day. But, needless to say, the C-10 he still carried had saved his life.

Once they arrived on scene, Ansgar was, entertainingly, the first out of the shuttle and his boots hit the ground, knees bending to absorb the impact as he swept the area, looking for any sort of trouble. Nothing, small miracle there, and he cracked his neck while the rest of the squad got boots on the ground. The Marshall made sure his hat was in place before they started moving, nothing to say to the group as he ignored the sand that was blowing all over the place. Reminded him of home, really, but he kept idle thoughts down as they marched. He had to use a visor to match the HUD that the armored folks had, but that wasn't a big deal. Kept the sand out of his eyes anyways, which was the main concern in this sort of situation. When they reached their positions, and orders were given to mark targets, Ansgar tagged one of the guards that were above the other two, closer of the two mind up above mind you. He trusted his C-10 over any of the Marine C-14's for that kind of work. Sure, he didn't have any fancy optics, but he was a better shot than folks tended to give him credit for. Besides, those 25mm explosive rounds tended to make short work of a most folks he had to take a shot at. And he knew for a fact it could put down Marines in one well placed shot to the visor. Considering the guards were not overly mobile?

He was locked on target real quick like, aim steady and waiting for the order to fire, and gave Solares a confirmation of such. And included his nickname for the woman, it was a habit, everyone had nicknames, those that dealt with Ansgar for long enough at any rate. [color=598527]"Ready to rock, Sunshine, give the go ahead."[/color]