Marines

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“Ninety seconds to launch. Activating final lockdown procedures now.” The mechanical voice of the assault computer was deafening as it reverberated in my helmet. Almost as loud was the metal on metal sound as the locking bolt on my armor clicked firmly into the steel frame of the landing craft. I was now securely held in place – between the bolt and the sheer weight of my armor, I couldn’t have moved a centimeter if my life depended on it.

I’ve always been claustrophobic, and standing there held rigidly in place was starting to get to me. It was more than just the closed in feeling; to tell the truth I was scared to death. It was cold enough in the launch bay to make the metal of my armor uncomfortable against my skin, but I could still feel a thin sheen of sweat on my forehead. I kept trying to concentrate on the launch procedure and put everything else out of my mind. That’s what they teach you in training, but I can tell you it’s pretty damn difficult when you’re bolted into a landing ship waiting to get blasted out into the upper atmosphere of an enemy planet. Especially the first time.

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