[h2]First Section, Second Platoon Breaching Point[/h2]

Trad's face contorted and his eyes glassed over as the order buzzed through the receiver of the radio. His finger scrambled to cycle the dial, to the channel which linked him and all his section leaders.

[i]"We are go. Breach, breach!"[/i] Ibus rasped into the small device. He clipped it to his rigging and grasped the A280. A dull beeping sounded before him, echoing out of the docking bridge. Finally, [b]BANG![/b] His men filed down the bridge, automatic riflemen taking lead with Ibus in the thick of his first section.

The mercenaries which greeted them got nary two shots before the repeating blaster-wielding troopers riddled them with shots. All that remained of the enemy was slumped corpses covered in cauterized holes surrounded by black soot.

Ibus' nose wrinkled and his face contorted once more, and he spoke into the radio. [i]"First section take lead. Second section, left flank. Third, right. Sappers cover our rear. Split into fireteams, clear it all room by room, hallway by hallway."[/i] And his soldiers replied an acknowledgement, the radio buzzing and beeping.

They spread in the fashion laid out, and split into respective hallways, moving sternwards.