[i]"Wake up assholes, we ain't gettin' paid by the hour!"[/i] Sergeant Bryant yelled. 

Doc's eyes flashed open, the glare of the light dazzling him. He lifted his hand to his eyes, his fingers scraped away the sleep that had developed from the first real rest the marines had in weeks. The man stood from his cot and stretched momentarily before moving to his locker. He spun a quick combination and flung open the door grabbing and donning his combat armor with fluent expertise; he was a natural. His pulse rifle slung easily over his shoulder, a fresh clip slapped in the numbers on the display read "99", and the safety on. The pulse rifle was standard for a USMC grunt, such as Doc, and it sated the bloodlust that can develop with combat. He holstered his pistol, not before spinning it like some cowboy he saw on the classical movie channel.

[i]"Let's roll fellas, we got fifteen minutes--and I don't want the Sarge to be any more of a prick than he already is!"[/i] Doc shouted. 

Icarai "Doc" Stone was a tall, slender man. He was no physical powerhouse, like his cousin Durk (who was better known by his nickname "Dragon"), or a genius like Cade (who was an expert in Chemical Engineering), but certainly Icarai was the medic of the group, he was precise with his hands, which aided in his marksmanship and hand to hand combat. If the need for a wound to be patched, or a makeshift splint be made, Icarai was the expert in that category. He knew his services would be needed, he had a bad feeling that had settled in his gut. The man wasn't nervous, rather overcome with adrenaline, which he calmed down with breathing slowly through his nostrils, and exhaling through his mouth. Word was some colonists had gone missing, which was quite strange, and that variable had given the first taste of action, or so Doc hoped, to the first squadron. Things on LV-629 had been pretty quiet, besides a few skirmishes between marines and colonists. It got lonely when you were far from a loved one, or a squeeze as Doc called them. It was typical for the females to.. get around, with so many swinging dicks on the colony. Anyways, Doc dismissed the thought and headed out in a quick jog, his combat boots thudded and echoed on the metal floor as he moved through the corridors, drawn to the location the Sarge had specified. 

[i]"Doc reporting for duty, sir!"[/i] shouted Icarai, when he finally encountered the Sarge.