Simulation Time (First Squad + Platoon HQ)

[McMillan, J.]

McMillan humped across the heavily vegetated terrain in silence, his eyes darting between the path ahead (being blazed by First Team) and the Marines on the squad. If it had been hot at the CP, it was twice as hot, if not more, in the actual jungle. Everyone had been consuming water throughout the journey, much to his relief, but even so, he had to be on the lookout. If someone became dehydrated, the symptoms would show quickly, and he wanted to be on top of it.

The squad arrived at a nondescript hill, the incline hardly worth note. However, after the slog that they all endured, Jim could feel it in his calves as he walked up it. He glanced back at Second Team, whom had been assigned the dubious honor of rear guard, and saw similar signs of discomfort written across their faces. Everyone felt the burn, it seemed.

When the Marines halted, Mac was somewhat relieved for the reprieve, dropping to his knees to rest his tired legs. He debated taking the time to run a check on everyone's feet to make sure there weren't signs of the dreaded trench foot, but decided against it. He'd wait til a little later before forcing that upon the Squad, as he wasn't quite looking forward to handling everyone's nasty, smelly feet just yet.

The staccato of gunfire rung out across the jungle suddenly, and the Marines up ahead scattered for cover. Jim, and the Marines of Second Fire Team behind him, had not crested the hill -- thus they were out of the line of fire and therefore relatively safe. He sighed and shrugged his rucksack off, setting it on the ground beside him. There was no better spot to set up a CCP than right behind the danger zone.

"Omen Two-One, Doc," McMillan said into the boom microphone that dangled from his helmet in front of his mouth. "CCP is on your six on the other side of the hill. Over."

[Mihaylov, D.]

Mihaylov had to keep from whistling as they walked through the dense jungle. It wasn’t all that different from his home, once you went inland from the beaches he knew best. It lacked a breeze, which would have done a ton to make them all more comfortable, but the thermal regulators in his body armor were keeping the sweating down to a less than normal level. His comrades were likely not sharing his comfort, but that was their issue and little he could do about it.

Then came the hill. Well, it was a hill in only the barest sense of the word, but it was certainly a rise that slowed them all down to a crawl. Then it stopped them completely. Mihaylov frowned as he started to scan the area, scowling at the disruption to his nature walk. This simulation was fantastic and he didn’t appreciate them just stopping because of some difficulty with the terrain.

The sound of gunfire changed his mindset immediately, and he dropped easily to cover. As the rearguard of the formation he did the most unnatural thing to do in a firefight, look the other way. If there was a flanking attack, or a double ambush, it was up to him and Bravo Team to sniff it out. While the sound of lead from behind was always unnerving, Mihaylov was well practiced and casually scouted towards their rear, praying the enemy had boxed them in. It would be an excellent, target rich environment.

“Mike set,” he called over the TEAMCOM. “Sector clear.”

[Chambers, T.]

The patrol through the jungle was as ever hot, the regulators in his Armour were doing their bit, it wasn't so bad he however had noticed it seemed his Russian friend was coping pretty much the best, at least out of the people he could actually sort of see. He kept his field of vision moving as they made their way through the simulated jungle, he was kind of thankful that the simulation's weather was an unforgiving as it was, it could only help them prepare, as much as they would spend far more time in the air conditioned metallic interior of the Vengence, they would at least know what to expect,

They came upon a hill everyone seemed off a little, the sounds of the jungle once he thought about it for a moment had stopped, mostly he could hear his own and everything else's breathing and moving. Then the heavily accented yelling of Sergeant stone cut through the brief silence as the jungle raged with sound and light. "CONTACT FRONT! ENGAGE!"

Their fire team was still behind the hill a little, standing up wasn't such a great idea however. Dropping to a knee he swiveled a little raising his M247 at the jungle, contact at the front as heavy as it sounded could leave an isolated squad vulnerable to flank or rearward attacks, it was their job to prevent that from happening.

Scanning as much as he could through the dense jungle he awaited the signal to move up and help the rest of the squad or for a potential ambush, it was his job to make sure even these simulated innies couldn't the drop on his team or his fellow marines.

[Edward, Z.]

Edwards froze when the distant gunfire came out of nowhere. Eyes scanning the surroundings for movement. Those guerrilla insurgents could be anywhere. So far they had been lucky that they hadn't come across them or any traps, fearing that he would be the one to step on a landmine.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a green bandana that he wasn't sure he'd gotten from. "Wonder where those Guerrillas are hiding because their out there and they are probably watching us."  He listened to the birds as they tweeted off in the distance. It was that and the gunfire from up ahead otherwise it was calm and quiet.

He held  his gun with one hand while he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out  a bag of sunflower seeds and threw a handful into his mouth before putting the bag back in his pocket. He'd spit the shells as they continued.

[Durant, M.]

It seemed the Insurrectionists were coming out of the woodworks. Rounds whizzed by the heads of the forward elements of First Squad and shredded into the dense underbrush of the jungle. The Marines replied with their own weapons, returning a barrage of gunfire to the well-camouflaged Insurrectionists ahead of them. One round zipped dangerously close to Lance Corporal Avery's helmeted head before crashing into a tree three meters behind him.

Meanwhile, in the back of the formation, Corpsman McMillan set up a makeshift Casualty Collection Point while the Marines of Second Team vigilantly scanned for threats. The racket of war was enough to drown out the noise of a six-man element of Insurrectionists that were slowly making their way into a flanking position. Each step was calculated as they hauled a HMG-38 through the brush to the spot that they had picked out to engage the remainder of the Squad.

When they finally arrived in their position, the Innies wasted no time opening fire, spraying wildly into the Marines' position as their brethren toiled over the machine gun, working to set it up to provide a heavy base of fire. If they succeeded in setting up that machine gun, Second Team and Corpsman McMillan would most certainly be doomed.

[O'Reilly, C.]

O'Reilly was having no trouble keeping up with the rest of the platoon. She was in excellent physical condition, but she was sweating profusely. She took another swig of her water. She had been in the jungle before, but it hadn't been this hot. When Stone gave the order to halt, she noticed it.

The silence.

Silence usually proceeded ambushes. She raised her rifle, looking around observantly. She raised her rifle, her finger resting near the trigger. She was about to tell her team to stay alert when all hell broke loose. Gunfire erupted from the trees, and she saw Wilkas take a hit. She swore, shouting for her team to get to cover. She dove to a large rock, taking a round to her lower leg and feeling it go numb. When she hit the ground, she put herself in a sitting position.

She looked to the rest of her team. "You heard the sergeant, shoot to kill!" she called, popping out from her cover, taking aim at a muzzle flash and letting out a short burst of fire, effectively silencing the shooting.

She had jumped right back into Insurrectionist hell.

[Durant, M.]

The Lieutenant listened to the distant chorus of battle as the sound traveled through the jungle. From the sounds of it, First Squad had tripped the hornet's nest, and now all the hornets were out for blood. He glanced over at Gunnery Sergeant Sabre, whom sat beside him with a grim expression as he eavesdropped on the carnage. "Sounds like they're in it now," Sabre said.

Durant nodded and looked down at the radio pack beside him. They had already been in the simulator for an hour now, and there were other units that had scheduled its usage. He wasn't quite sure how much longer they could go on before they had to call it quits, and the radio pack was designed to transmit directly to the simulator control center, where a Marine was always on duty to monitor the ongoing simulations.

"Think First Squad walked into that ambush?" the SNCO inquired curiously.

"I'd bet thirty credits on it easily," he replied.

The Gunnery Sergeant chuckled and nodded his head. Unbeknownst to First Squad, Durant and the Gunny knew exactly where the enemy were located in the sim, and that was one of the main reasons he had not accompanied them into the jungle. Together they had designed the scenario that the Marines found themselves in, and it seemed by a stroke of luck (or misfortune), they had stumbled upon one of the more trickier ambushes that had been put into place. It was entirely possible to bypass all of them to reach the objective. Theoretically, First Squad could have gone without ever encountering an Innie the entire simulation.

However, luck of the draw would seem that that'd not been the case. He was glad for it. The new replacements needed the experience to bond, as in his eyes warrior's became closer when faced with the prospect of death and loss, and they learned to work more efficiently as a team. First Squad had plenty of new blood to break in, and breaking them in they would. Michael wanted his Marines prepared for their next mission; if only to help even the odds in their favor when they were thrust into real combat.

If they could bond now and learn to work together as one well-oiled, deadly machine, then the chances of them all coming back home were that much more likely. Of course there was always the looming threat of Murphy and his twisted laws, but Durant paid him little mind. Oscar Company had given Murphy the middle finger a long time ago.

"I believe another unit is due for the sim in a few Mike's, sir," Sabre announced, looking up from his watch.

Durant nodded. A part of him wanted to say screw the other units and let his Marines carry on, but he knew that wasn't possible. He'd have to take the diplomatic route if he wanted to avoid some rather uncomfortable situations later. With a heavy sigh through grit teeth, Durant picked up the handset from the radio pack and put it to his ear.

"Omen Two Actual to Control, over."

"Omen Two, Control, send it."

"Kill the mission. Authorization Code: Bravo-Lima-Fife-Fife-Six, over."

"Authorization Code: Bravo-Lima-Fife-Fife-Six, roger. Standby."

Durant waited patiently for the controller to do whatever it was he had to do to shut down the simulator. He and the Gunnery Sergeant sat there for a long moment in silence, and the Lieutenant started to wonder after awhile if the man was ever going to shut it down. Then, finally, it all fizzled away.

The trees disappeared, and the ground leveled out and was replaced with cold, hard metal. Durant breathed in what he had thought would be hot, humid air, only for it to be artificially cold and slightly stale. The jungle had disappeared in an instant, replaced by the cavernous visage of the simulator. He looked down towards where First Squad was, and saw them all standing there dumbfounded.

"Omen Two, this is Control, over."

Durant clicked the talk key. "Go for Omen Two, over."

"Mission scrubbed. You're clear to go, over."

"Roger, many thanks. Omen Two Actual out," he replied with a nod.

With that, he proceeded to regroup with his Marines and then led them out of the simulator for a quick debrief. As they edited the room, Durant spotted Third Platoon heading towards them, and he nodded to Lieutenant Hernandez as the man led his Marines into the simulator.