[center][h2]Hal McCormick[/h2][/center]
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[i]Gunfire in the distance. Muted shouting within the brush. The blood was caked along his skin. Sticky and old. From yesterday. Hal coughed and sucked in a breath of air, sick with soot and the smell of burnt flesh. His squad under heavy fire for hours. He could not recall when he had water last. It was what he had been trained to endure. But the death of his soldiers...that was something he was unprepared for. He could still see their faces when the Napalm detonated...[/i]

Hal awoke with a start, which to most would still seem as if a ghost had aroused. A 'start' was him taking a small intake of breath off beat from his usual sleep pattern, and his eyes opened without listening to see who was nearby. In the Central American jungle, where you slept and ate and shit while under the threat of enemies not three paces away in the dense foliage, he had been hard wired for efficiency and discreteness. 

Hal sighed, and swung his legs off his bed. Rubbing the center of his forehead with his palm, he decided to go get some food first off. It still didn't feel real, the realization that he would never again step on terran soil. But he would need to get used to it. A quick dress and outfitting later, and he stepped out of his room in dutiful gear. The uniform and helmet fit snugly on his body, and his primary weapon was lazily held in his hands. It was an M356 Assault Rifle, the heavy caliber grandchild of the old M16. 

Once he checked in, he went on duty. He passed through the corridors of the living areas, followed by the hanger sector. Surveying both twice would take the entire day. But he did not see the end of one round of his service before the alarms went off, and his world was filled with red and black as the signal was given. Suddenly his comm was flooded with incoming information of the impending Devastator attack, and crowds of frightened personnel suddenly appeared in his vision. 

"Attention!" He cried over the throng of shouting and frightened people. His voice a powerful and commanding beacon of noise that drew the eyes and ears of those around him. "Get to your designated stations. Proceed calmly and in good order! Move!" He ordered, and repeated the orders as the crowd turned into a rough line, rank and file. "Move move!"