The darkness seemed to permeate out of the room. As it was more then obvious that whatever shuttle or ship he had been on was probably destroyed. His night vision came on after a few moments as he began to see the shades and forms of the objects around him. It was more then obvious that he was in a sort of room of sorts. Maybe not the largest of them, but something like a large former room that was connected to another. The details of what seemed to be medical equipment laid out on the ground as if they were also knocked over in the crash. The corpses, of what seemed to be the other troops also seemed to lay around lifeless. Some could have been even said to have been pretending to be resting.

He gripped his gun lightly, feeling it close by. As he used it to pull himself up. Brushing off one of the dead marines bodies before looking around for anymore possible targets. Pulling it up quickly into a more combat ready position he made sure to move around the bodies silently, and with some sort of ease. It would be best to open the hatch first, to figure out the scenario outside then to move the corpses out and probably tear them apart if possible to see what he could manage to salvage from them. It didn’t take him log to see the hatch button to open the drop gate to allow the main door of this possible transport ship to open up. His hostile environment suit and life support seemed to be undamaged as well. Quite the lucky break he got, though maybe it was because of the location he had been sitting? He didn’t know, nor could he even remember why he was here in the first place.

The Marine that clomped into the room almost shot him in the back, but realized he wasn't hostile. It paused in the doorway, looking at him.

The suit was impressive; almost ten feet tall and four feet wide at the shoulders, whenever it moved the servos in its joints hummed. A pair of orange lightbulbs were set in the eye sockets, where, ostensibly, the visual suite was kept. "The transport hit a buoy. Had to make an emergency landing. Apparently it didn't go well," said the suit in a resonant baritone. "You the only live one?" It stepped further into the demolished cabin and began turning men over with its massive rifle. After briefly looking into the faces of the dead men, the suit would move to the next, until it had worked its way over to the man. Standing straight with a hydraulic hiss, the suit peered down at him. "Lucky."

It watched him for a long moment, then stomped around him to push the hatch release. When nothing happened, it pushed it again. With an angry chuff, the suit jabbed the button even harder. "Fuckin' thing. Screw it," and just like that, the suit ripped the metal door aside with a squeal and tossed it over its shoulder.

The wind that howled through the newly open door was violent in its intensity, whipping purple sand onto the floor and spinning through the air. The Marine blocked most of it, but it was enough to sense how inhospitable the planet was. The light outside was an odd shade of lavender that blazed into ultraviolet sky, and jagged rocks of amethyst jutted like teeth around the crash site. The suit stepped aside. "We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto."

It wasn’t something he would have normally called out to, but still the fact that the marine seemed to act like some of the more aggressive types told him much about the person before him. Though, this wasn’t a bad thing to say the least. She probably managed to live through more of the…more “fun” times of the battles she probably had. He couldn’t deny she was UED, it said so on her id as it was. And he just sighed as he moved out to walk onto the ground. For the most part it seemed she was right. The entire area itself seemed to have been trashed from their crash landing. More so the trail that came from it grinding across the ground. The seeming change in the atmosphere was more then enough to tell him that this wasn’t a really known planet. At least not any he’d been on. With all the assassinations he had to do, he hadn’t really seen these type of planets yet.

They seemed to have a mix of forest of what could be called trees to deserts, though right now that was all he could manage to gather up from the mix of it all. He allowed his own psionic powers to flow once more through the suit he wore as it glew a blueish hue before shuttering down. Looking to the Marine for a moment.

“Well, in a way…it’s easier this way.” he stated, as the helmet he wore changed to a more real vision of the area. It merely shifted it’s lense as to allow him to see things in a more color like fashion. One could say it allowed him to see normal for the moment. “I think the most important part for now will be to figure out our situation. Any ideas of what took us down? Or even what planet this is?” he wasn’t one to care if he sounded odd for not knowing something. He just normally cared about what the target was and how he was going to take it down and leave. Though some missions required a more artistic touch.

He was more then happy though that even though the gust of air from the ship just giving into the balance of pressure, for the most part this planets pressure wasn’t insanely different.

The suit blinked at the man as he stepped out into the strangely-colored light. With a shrug of her massive shoulders, the suit followed him, careful to scan the rim of the crash site for anything unfriendly. As much as she would laugh when the guy got mauled five minutes after surviving a shuttle crash, she could always use someone to watch her back. From the look of him, he was a stealthy type. Most of the time she didn't get along with stealthy types (although truthfully she didn't get along with non-stealthy types either).

Outside the light faded to nearly white; either that, or her eyes were adapting. She shifted her grip on her rifle thoughtfully and spared the other survivor a glance; much like her, he was helmeted and armored. Probably a good thing, considering the nature of the planet. For all they knew, the atmosphere could be poisonous to human life. One way to find out. Reaching around the back of her helmet, she opened the air valve and took a tentative breath. While the air was thick with churned-up dust and particulate matter, with a faint metallic taste, her lungs didn't reject it out of hand. With this in mind, she left the valve open for a moment more, then shut it. "Doesn't seem instantly lethal. Hey, you. Got some scanners you can run? Check out the air quality."

The man was surveying the area a couple of steps away from the ship wreckage. He asked about the crash itself.

She shrugged. "There was a buoy-- you know, one of those little satellite things. Old. Looks like it floated out here when the batteries died, and we ran into it. Don't know how, but we got the worst of it, and here we are." She turned to watch the air inside the ship mingling with the air outside. It looked a little odd, like the outside was sucking the inside air out, but she figured that was just the ship's artificial atmosphere in its death throes.

He took a few moments to look around again before getting the explanation. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand it. More on the lines that he just had hoped it wasn’t something so simple as the trained pilot having a dumb moment of their own. Killing an entire group was more on the lines as outright odd, and more so with the pilots. He however walked back into the ship and looked over what seemed to be a scanner. He pushed a few buttons on it as the lights seemed to flicker on lightly around him as the electricity was reconnected somehow and then with little effort the glass like reflector came on. Showing, a very screwed up and distorted informative description of the air particles. To say the least it wasn’t toxic, but it wasn’t like it was the best air in the world to breath either.

“Well, it’s not going to kill you.” he stated calmly. He wasn’t going to take off his helmet though. Not because of environment more on the lines of because he just rathered the whole suit and the many sort of visions it provided him. He was a Ghost after all, and the suit would allow him to cloak, to vanish into thin air if he needed to. Though, he sometimes wondered if he was able to do that without it, but that wasn’t really a problem in itself. He didn’t really sense any other people in the vicinity either. Which was probably better then not.

“The ship is probably only good as a beacon at best…but even that is questionable.” He stated as he came out near the Marine stopping for a moment. “Though I guess we may as well check out the area around before whenever the sunset comes. Then we can figure out our next plan tomorrow.” he stated calmly as he looked around to the horizon of mixed elements before him. It was a strange environment, but he wasn’t one to be too picky. Merely cautious…they had no idea what could be here.

"Pilot error's a helluva thing, ain't it?" The suit asked, laughing. It wasn't a happy laugh, but it wasn't bitter either-- it was the kind of laugh a person who enjoyed a challenge might have. She turned to the man, towering over him in the massive powered armor. The orange ocular bulbs locked onto him. "So, who're you?" The suit didn't seem angry or suspicious, just flatly curious. In fact, she didn't care who he was; she just wanted to know what to call him if she had to. If she could have avoided the conversation she probably would have, but the planet was unmapped and possibly hostile.

Inside the machine, Nyula Reeve peered hard at the image offered by her enhanced optics. A battle-hardened woman even before her arrest, Nyula hadn't been surprised when she had been asked to join the Marines. The decision hadn't been hard either-- join up or rot in a cryo-cell for the rest of her natural life (which would have been about a month, since she was scheduled for execution). With shocking white hair and canny orange eyes, Nyula didn't pass for a harmless female. The board that had reviewed her had been lucky on that account. If they hadn't secured her well enough, she would have escaped, and quite possibly torched the whole facility as a good-bye present. Even so she had enjoyed the vaguely uncomfortable looks the reviewers had given her as they read her files and questioned her about her skill set. One of the men had even motioned a guard to stand nearer to him, in case Nyula got frisky.

She agreed to their terms and was fitted with a suit the next morning. It monitored her pulse, brainwaves, blood pressure, oxygenation; it took a whole panel of physical readings every five minutes, some more often. Her communications network was linked directly to the prison system's dispatchers so she could be directed as they saw fit. Basically, they said shoot, Nyula shot.

That had been four years ago, and Nyula had been on her way to her second term as a Marine. If she completed three, her sentence was reduced to time served-- another stipulation of the deal. She knew most Marines didn't survive their first term, but she figured she'd cut her loses and give it a shot. Anything was better than hanging around waiting for the bureaucrats to put a needle in her arm. At the thought, Nyula's pulse fluctuated and she flinched. She didn't take kindly to death. No matter what happened, Nyula Reeve would survive. She would live.

He looked up to the machine that was baring down on him for a moment. Blinking behind his mask he just smiled. “ I’m Ghost unit 0-8761. Or you could just call me Charles. What about yourself?” He asked in return. He wasn’t one to pass judgment on anyone at least not when it came to his survival. He had seen marines fight in many situations, though most of them died they were still to some extent loyal to one other. So it was best to get on their good side if you want to live through some of the more insane situations.

He just looked around her for a moment to make sure that they were still in the clear. “Though I do think it would be best for us to probably move the bodies of these men and women out. We can’t risk attracting special animals from point one you know?” he says and looks to the bodies again, making sure to watch them carefully, if any of them had moved they could possibly try to save them. But not even one flinched. Just like he had assumed they were all dead. Well not this Marine here obviously but still it was annoying to think they had lost all their men so easily. What the hell was up with that.

“We can also assume that we wont be getting any help until one of the units comes looking for us. So that may take some time.” He stated calmly as he looked back outside then walked towards it once more. Looking around, and trying to sense the presence of other creatures that may have given off a psionic signature. Though he wasn’t hoping to find it, he did feel a faint one. So faint that he couldn’t tell the distance but it was best he probably didn’t pry to much into it. He didn’t need them to be taken out before they even began their investigation of the area.

"Call me Reeve," the suit said, and the woman in it hazarded a smile. He'd given her a very proper greeting, considering the circumstances. She liked a man with manners. Most of the men she'd dealt with in her short life couldn't spell manners, let alone exhibit them, so it was a pleasant chance. Turning from Charles, Nyula stomped over to the corpses and started chucking them out the door with little ceremony. The hydraulics in her arms hummed. "You're right about the animals. Anything could be living out here, and I prefer not having to punch local wildlife. Can't believe all of these dead ones... Think the life support system failed? Their faces are all uncovered-- you and I have isolated respirators, so if the oxygen scrubbers in the ship got pinged we wouldn't know." She glanced over her shoulder at him as she hefted a skinny female engineer out the wrenched door.

After pitching the last of the hapless passengers out, Nyula ran an infared scan of the immediate area. Nothing interesting. She clicked back to her regular optics. "So, where were you going when the good ship Fuckbolt tanked?" Her scalp itched, so she dragged a hand over it, only to remember she was inside the suit. She couldn't actually touch anything; all she could do was feel it second-hand through the sensors. She wondered if Charles could take his suit off.

Ever since she'd been put into it, Nyula had been trapped. The suit was welded shut around her. The system had a tube through which she was fed every six hours and another to keep her watered. Everything else was just as automated. Nyula preferred not to think about it. Better than being dead, she muttered to herself as she straightened up.

Charles paused for a moment while he helped as best as he could. Unlike Reeve, whom he just learned the name of. His suit wasn’t made with hydraulics like hers. It was pretty much just designed to help him out when need be, with cloaking and other means. He moved yet another un armored crewmen out. “Well it is strange. I mean if we both lived why not them? Maybe there was something in the food? Or just the luck of chance. I really can’t say.” He stated in return to her question. He was more on the lines of confusion as anyone would have been in this situation. It wasn’t that he regretted being alive, that would be a lie. More like it was to perfect. Why he and Reeve? Did they maybe have something in common? Was this maybe an odd attack? He had to many questions to really be bothered with answering any of them.

After he had counted off the last bit of information he could gather on the ships current state, he could easily tell they would have to leave the ship itself. Though at least they still had a few days left in it. It was best they leave as even the beacon and many other needed things that would have given this ship any form of value was down. Right now, the only reason they would have to rest here is so they can get use to the situation around them. Maybe test out the scanners on the ship to see if the wide range would pick up anything. Though his thoughts were interrupted by her returning and asking him a pretty good question.

“Well, normally we are briefed about it. I didn’t get any information until I was going to be deployed, which I was guessing was with this unit.” He stated as he turned and looked at the massive machine. It was still in it’s own way funny to try to talk up to marines. More so since he was normally a tall man. “ So, really I dunno. I mean normally im’ sent on info or assassin missions. Not so much mass scale investigation like discovering new worlds. So…I wouldn’t really know…” he stated and sighed, his suit giving off a blast of air as he did so. “What about you? Any luck on figuring out what you and the team were here for?” He stated calmly, and as politely as he could. Ghost units usually were deployed with a team of Marines just to provide cover for them, and if it was an assassination it was more on the lines of the marines were just around to protect the main area. So it was hard for him to really say anything. He noticed her trying to scratch her head though. But he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t uncommon for some of the Marines to be trapped in their suits as per the rules of whatever they signed up for. So he couldn’t really say anything. As a ghost he didn’t need to keep his suit on. He just generally did for control over his psionics. He didn’t want to be a beacon.