Jack knew the members of the first exploration group would be arriving shortly. The announcement had just been made; all of those in the First Exoplanet Exploration Division, or FEED, would be arriving because of it. Mainly military, he figured, but the factions weren't balanced. Mainly Euro-East and New Alliance; Sino-Russos don't like mixing with others, it seemed.

They'd arrived over the first planet two weeks after they entered the wormhole. Since then, they'd managed to communicate properly back home. If he had any family worth going back to or talking to, he might of. But instead, he studied what little they knew of the planet they were dropping into- they had no idea if it had a toxic or poisonous atmosphere, though the plants on the ground were suspected to be carbon-based and oxygen/carbondioxide, though they weren't sure.

The announcement was a recording he already had in the system- "All personnel involved with the First Exoplanet Exploration Division report to Hangar C3 for departure."

There wasn't a set time limit, but when most of them arrived, he'd drop. His pilot- he already forgot their name- was already strapped in and firing up the engines. When they were ready, the dropship would be unceremoniously dropped- the floor beneath the dropship, at the moment, was nothing more than a shimmering enviroshield- something that allowed humans to walk on it, and kept the void of the space out and air in- and a single bay door. The blast doors had already retreated into the sides of the ship, as were the secondary blast doors, and the airlock doors.

Feeling a sudden bout of nervousness and a premonition of something BAD, he looked around at the hangar with new eyes, as if taking it in for the first- or last- time. It was cavernous, spanning four flight decks (each deck is 15 feet, 6'6" for each actual level for people to walk through, the rest being maintenance and mechanics), with cranes and catwalks and the like stretching throughout. The hangar stretched along the very bottom of the entire ship; it was long and narrow, with enough space for three dropships wingtip to wingtip for the width, and hundreds of feet from the front of the hangar to the rear. A bad design, if not for the many enviroshields maintaining individual flightgroup areas.

It was just their time to drop, and he felt uncomfortable, for good reason. They may not come back alive, or at all. But he straightened up in his suit as the first member appeared at the door closest to the dropship; it seemed they were starting to trickle in. "Engine start authorized, Pilot. We'll have payload in no time."

Carter ambled into the hangar, scanning for his ship. He took only a second to find it: there weren't too many ships here, if he was being honest. He approached the man standing in the dropship. "Um, you're Mr. Hughes, right? I'm Carter Uberfall." He held out his hand to the man, brushing his dark hair with the other. "Oh," he added, "my luggage was brought to the ship beforehand, right? I really wouldn't want to be caught without it, and I imagine I don't have much time to get it if they didn't bring it."

Comfortably in the pilot's seat Luna sat reclined with her feet on the pilot's console of her dropship an hour before scheduled launch staring at the photo-images the extravehicular cameras of the exploration probe took.
This was it... the ultimate challenge for a pilot. A completely new world no human craft has ever touched the atmosphere of. Nobody could prepare Luna for the challenges of this brand new environment. Finally she could show people her worth, her training could at last bear fruit.

When the first announcement sounded through the hangar, Luna groaned a bit and put her feet down to where they usually belong and closing the photo-images. With the other hand she nonchalantly presses the warm-up button for the engines.

"Engine start authorized, Pilot. We'll have payload in no time.", the commander came over comms.

"Aye, aye! Hop in and strap yourselves up, my lovelies. It's gonna be a tough ride. Barf bags are underneath everybody's seats. If you vomit over my ship, you'll have scrubbing duties after touchdown.", Luna calmly, but not without her usual sarcastic tone, let the exterior loudspeakers holler.

Kelsey sat in her room with her weapons laid out in front of her on a desk along with tools used to repair and clean the tools. She was just finishing putting her rifle back together as her communicator buzzed letting her know that it was time to head to the dropship that was waiting to take the team to the surface. She stretched as she placed the rifle back onto the desk and got up from her seat so that she could get in the exosuit which had been custom built for her frame.

Once the medic had squeezed into the armor, she started to place the weapons in their proper spots with the sidearm being hung on her right hip, combat knife strapped to her chest for easy access and finally her rifle slung over her shoulder on a strap so it wouldn't get lost. After the weapons were in place next came the medical supplies, which were stored in pouches located on her hips and chest with major medical needs being carried in a carry-on pack. Once everything was packed away, Kelsey pulled her hair back into a single ponytail and grabbed her helmet before leaving the small room for the hanger.

As she approached the dropship she did one last once over to make sure everything was were it was supposed to be and to check that her nationality had been taken off to be replaced by the red cross stating she was a medic. The medic saluted the Staff Sergeant that was standing at the entrance to the dropship and saluted him. "Corporal Kelsey Baker, reporting for the mission Sir." After the introduction, she entered the ship and sat across from a man that looked like a non-combatant.

As Sera entered the hanger she was rather taken aback, it was larger than she assumed it would be. There couldn't be enough of them going to fill the damn thing could there? No - it was an exploration mission! There would only be a handful, that's how they briefed her. "They certainly didn't skimp on the budget for this one," she said to herself, her accent was a strange one, most prominently Russian but you could hear it being challenged by other dialects, the most prominent of these challengers being the Italian accent that Sera inherited from her mother. It was a strange combination, the Russian was strong and forceful whereas the slight hint of Italian was full of passion and grace.

She was, as per usual fully geared up. The Shocklance never left her wrist and her Blinkfusor was strapped firmly to her back. Her overly large Solar Rail was the most interesting piece of equipment as when not in use it swung around to her hips, sort of looking like two giant sheaths, it was an amusing spectacle from afar as it almost looked like Sera wore two old great swords on her belt. The Ski's were of course the most bland equipment, they were just boots to anyone not in the know.

Sera wasn't the only one in the hanger there were some ships, as well as other exhibition force members, Sera should probably known their names, she believed one was called Hughes? It wasn't a difficult name to remember. She took one last look around before deciding it was time to get to the dropshop.

The announcement went over the tannoy in his room, "Mr... Slipstream, you've been cleared. Please make your way to the hanger." Dex was in bed, sat up with one leg over the other and casually flicking through a dirty magazine he had found under his mattress. He looked up at the small speaker and smiled, "thanks for the notice." he said more to himself then to the genderless AI that gave him the message. He pulled himself out of the rock hard mattress and went to the corner of the room, to pick up his backpack and the shotgun he had leaned against his drawer. He pulled the lever a bit to see if there were any shells still in, there wasn’t. He filled the Mag tube and put one in the chamber before slipping it over his shoulder with his backpack. As he passed the desk, he holstered his .49 and went down the hall, to where he remembered the the hanger was.
Stepping into the cavernous space, he checked his equipment one more time, his guns were loaded, his bowie knife sharpened, there was only one thing he needed to attend to. He produced a little black device from his pocket that had a red button on it, he pushed it and a bleep echoed through the space as Ronica decloaked. He went straight to her, and ran his fingers over her matt, baby blue paint. He checked her fuel, her battery level and some of the doodads and compartments within and on her, when satisfied, he ordered some of the crew members to attach shoots on it and ready it for dropping into the atmosphere.
He went to the dropship he was selected to board and entered it’s cramped confines, he looked at the people inside, an armored lump and civilian. Dec went straight to the cockpit and took a seat by the pilot.

“Nice bird.” he said, looking at the controls with interest. he felt comfortable here, it felt like looking at Ronica’s dashboard. “What model?"

Isabella moved towards the hangar, her boots clanging against the metallic floor of the hallway she walked through as she went along. She was clad in her armor, her trusty rifle clipped to the back of it, pistol holstered, knife too along with her helmet which too was hooked onto her belt. The woman had checked at least a half dozen of times to make sure she had everything before she left for the hangar.

As she stepped through the doors into the area she felt a sense of nervousness flow through her veins. This was offset by how intrigued she was to be one of the first humans to step foot on the strange alien world they were to depart to very soon. She would never admit to being nervous though.

Isabella approached the dropship, having noticed others enter it right before her. She vagualy remembered the names of some of them, the captain's standing out the most. It was always a good idea to know the captain's name, this man's was Hughes. She gave him a nod as if to acknowledge his presence then quietly entered the dropship, sitting down and strapping herself into a seat.

Her helmet still off Luna typed away on the console in front of her adjusting the flight parameters inputting any atmospherical data the probes managed to gather. To make a successful entrance into this foreign environment she needed every information she could gather.
A short while later, Luna still absorbed in adjusting her ship, she barely heard the scavenger entering the Co-Pilot's seat.
Only when he asked her about the model of her bird, Luna turned her head to face him.

To her he looked like someone stuck in time, like some kind of freak space dandy, but with an added amount of smugness that hinted at more. Definitely not military, she gathered. Scientist...? Unlikely. Probably a mercenary. Or a freelancer. Not that it particularly mattered to her.
Everybody here had a reason for why they were here and Luna certainly wasn't in the spot to criticise anybody. Hell, she herself only signed up for this expedition on the bidding of the Euro-East science group which provided her with both of her ships.

"Phantom Claw, Ravager-class Dropship, modified. Has enough space down there to fit a medium sized strike fighter. Defensively, it can endure the impact of a medium sized asteroid. Offensively, you can pimp this baby up to be able to take out a frigate all by itself. Of course, for this mission we have not mounted the offensive weaponry except for the standard equipment, aka the three gun turrets, top, bottom, rear, and the frontal mortar."
All while she was saying this, Luna grinned smugly.

Piotr walked slower as he approached the Dropship that would eventually lead him to the uncharted territories that the crew was about to explore. He still couldn't believe the fact that he was one of the sole humans to ever step on this place. It simply astonished him how far they had come as a species. When the moment had come and he was called to the hangar, he stood paralyzed for a few seconds, in shock. He simply couldn't digest the fact that something of that magnitude was even happening, and he surely refused to believe he was an active, vital part of it.

He rushed to the dropship and lowered his pace until he had reached the ship. He trembled out of excitement, you could hear the collision of his teeth as his jaw shook, trying to dissimulate his absolute joy, and fear. He didn't know what to expect from the unknown planet. What kinds of life forms would they find, if any? Is the planet a kind host, or would they end up devoured by this new, savage world?

He tried to escape the storm of thoughts that was his mind by tapping his fingers on his lap, along one of the many piano songs he had learned during his formation. He waited patiently, both like a father waiting to see his child for the first time, and a convicted murderer, awaiting his inevitable execution. Only time would tell their fate.

"Wonderful," he said simply, putting on the co-pilot's headset. Dex's hands worked skillfully at the ships controls, the tiny font of the labels clear to his eyes that were use to small writing by now, as Ronica's labels were just as hard to read. After a few moments of what seemed to be absent minding flicking and clicking, a small projection of the ship appeared infont of the pair, turning ever so slowly and displaying information. He leaned back into the chair and put one leg over the other and crossed his arms as he scanned the diagram, he tutted and shook his head.

"The pneumatic pressure in the left-rear landing leg is a bit low, you should ask to get that checked before we take off," he fell silent again and scrutinized the image throw seemingly nonchalant eyes, "Reactor coolant levels are also a bit low for my liking but it shouldn't be an issue." Dex leaned his chin into his hand and continued to look at the floating diagram, he turned to the pilot and smiled, "The name's Dex, Slipstream."

Luna popped open the diagnostics panel and stared at what it showed on its screen.
"Damned software... it's supposed to inform me about any maintenance issues... ugh!" she groaned and shook her head. "Not that important, I have to check it manually for a while, then."
She looked over the results of the diagnosis with a slight frown.
"Yep, you're right. This certainly has to be fixed before take-off." Grumbling she sent a notice to the hangar engineers to fix all the issues immediately.
Finally she turned to face Dex. "Thanks for keeping your eyes open, I guess. I'm Luna. Luna Callahan and I will be your pilot today."
She grinned relieved after her anger about buggy diagnostic software.

Dex smiled, thinking to himself, 'A bit concerning that our pilot did't do any manual checks.' but he decided to keep that to himself, not wanting to anger the woman who would be his only way off of the rock they were orbiting, so instead he said, "pleasure to be flying Air Callahan," he turned slights to grab his seatbelt and buckle up, tightening the straps to fit him, "I hope you don't mind I ride up here, I'm more use to seeing where I'm going as opposed to being taken to where I'm going."

Dex settled into the seat, and did some checks on his equipment, he did not want to be caught pants down if something where to happen on the ex-planet. He decided to initiate small talk to pass the time, "So, Miss Callahan," he emphasized the word Miss, slowly dragging his eyes along her body, from toes to hair, "Tell me a bit about yourself, for the people watching at home." he head heard that saying when he was young, watching hollow-tapes of old reality shows, when the host would want people to elaborate he'd say it, 'For the people watching at home.'

Luna shifted around a bit in her seat making herself as comfortable as possible. "I don't mind at all. Just relax and stuff and soak in the beautiful view."
She cracked her knuckles and leaned back.

"Well... I'm not really that exciting. Just a regular Alliance pilot." She shrugged. "Born on the moon... basically been flying since I've been a little girl. My father was a pilot, my mother was a pilot. Piloting lies in my blood, I guess. Right as I graduated from Pilot Academy, I got deployed in the Ceres Buccaneer Crisis. That was something, I guess."

She turned to face Dex. "Have you ever killed somebody? Even if it was 'just' a pirate? I mean, it's probably different if you're directly face to face with the enemy on a ground combat level, but still. I'll never forgot the sight of the pirate fighter going up in flames caused by my guns. It gets easier the second time, but only a bit."
She laughed.
"Sorry, got dark there for a bit. I'm normally pretty chill."

Jack grunted a short "Welcome 'board, get ready for takeoff" to each of the newcomers as they arrived. He knew more about each and every one of them than they did each other, including medical records and history. While none of the nations were comfortable giving up such records, these were all considered "low risk." In other words, they were sending those who could be glorified, or dispensed, at will. If it went successful, they could say they sent their most recommended- if they were not, they could say that they were simply a first wave of grunts who intentionally volunteered.

It churned his belly, to be honest, but he didn't blame them. He picked out the sniper himself, though that probably actually decreased her chances of getting on the team, whatwith the bickering and pettiness common within the political structure.

Either way, he was the last one standing after the last one arrived. A stern look, felt even through his faceless helmet, gave them enough warning to go ahead and strap in. Accompanied by the pilot's warnings, it was followed automatically or consciously. Either way, no one was arguing.

Satisfied, he stepped fully into the dropship bay, walking fully down it as he triggered an impulse through the implants. The door rose, and began closing; the lights inside went from the basic white/yellow to a red, lights on the wall, replaced others.

So he walked down the rows on both sides of the dropship, already checking to make sure everyone was strapped and locked into the wall. In the case of catastrophic failure, each seat would jet out the side and deploy an environmental shield and a parachute, to provide breathable air and a slow descent. He helped the confused ones' harnesses down, a pair of arms that came from over the shoulder and locked in around their arms, with straps for their legs, chest, and feet. When everyone else was situated, he moved to the front of the spacecraft, resting a hand on the pilot and copilot chairs. He eyed the Slipstream character from within his visor- he had just taken his spot. It wouldn't have bothered him, except the military was pretty much in control of this operation, and he seemed to disregard it.

He walked in as his pilot was talking about killing- something that brought back less than pleasant memories. Through his slightly delayed voice from his helmet, he announced, "Prepare for takeoff, pilot. Command will drop on your go. And by the way- I don't know about Slipstream here, but I've killed dozens. Dark thoughts, neh? I hope you passed your mental examination, since you're piloting this boat."

Dex was about to answer when the Commander of the mission came and stopped him, cutting in as Dex opened his mouth to speak. Dex listed carefully to the commander and when he sensed that the man was finished he spoke, "Nice to see you with us Commander," he said casually, extending a hand, "It seems that you've read my files, because you know my name before i introduced myself." He did this of course out of curtesy, not wanting to piss this guy off either but he didn't really care for the man's name, he probably wouldn't use it anyway.

He turned back to Callahan, "When exploring space, darkness is something that people come across easily. Yes, I have killed people," He said, resting his hand on the shotgun he propped on a console and running his hand down almost three dozen notches in the synthetic fittings, "Though most of them deserved it, so I feel no remorse." He picked up the lever action shotgun and handed it to the pilot, notches facing her, "But one never forgets." He turned away from her, feeling he made an elaborate enough statement, Instead he concentrated on the dash and watched as the coolest levels rose and the pneumatic pressure increased.

"Clear for take off." he said, watching as they ejected Ronica's capsule down to the planet.

Luna swirled around to face the Commander.
"Don't worry, Capt'n, I took my mental exams. I'm completely fine now. Like I said, only the first couple ones are terrible. It gets easier with every next one. I'm at the stage where I can proudly paint my kills on the nose of my fighter."
A very cheeky grin appeared on her face and she let the console boop with a tap of her finger.
"Well, then. Let's get this girl airborne, shall we?"
Playfully Luna let the engines of the dropship roar for a moment.
"Mhhh... sounds good. You might want to seek somewhere to strap yourself into", she suggested to the Commander.
Grinning she grabbed the intercom.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We're good for takeoff! Let's get this party started, eh?"

---Touching down on G2-S1-P5---

As the Ship dropped all manner of nicknacks and widgets rattled around, blood rushed to the heads of the ships inhabitants as it shot away from the artificial gravity well of the carrier. The ships gyroscopes soon kicked into play stabilising it as it plummeted through space towards the atmosphere; then there was re-entry. As the ship collided with the natural gravity pleasant of the planet it burst into flames, sparks of red at first and then a brilliant blue, the atmosphere must of had excess copper in it. Below there were visions of vines and trees forming a great canopy with streaks of purples to oranges, pinks to blues. The views were astounding, who knows what it would look like from the surface.

The shuttle planted itself firmly next to a series of giant mushrooms, towering above the craft. The view from down there was as spectacular than it was from above, it was breathtaking, the sky wasn't the same as back home, where that was mostly blue this sky had a green tint, it was definitely a different universe. The crew could finally dismount onto this strange new world, as soon as there was a confirmation of oxygen that is.

He switched his helmet from within-range hearing to the global admin chat channel, where he could hear everyone in his crew, whether it just be the cockpit in general, or anyone with a transmitter or tactical helmet of some kind. Combined with the injections that everyone was forced to take, he could keep himself updated on everyone's whereabouts, and anything they say or hear. As required by CentCom, of course, and not entirely under the human rights- but they are in a whole different galaxy, and this was very much demanded by all three factions.

Listening in on everyone else's conversations, he strapped himself into the command seat in the small compartment between cockpit and crew bay, where a small desk with monitors and keyboard were, embedded into the desk and wall. Slipping out one of three admin decks- a sort of large, laptop-sized tablet that has the functions to control a small starship- he flicked across the menus to the extra external sensors on the hull of the ship, which were rigged on short notice. Entering the atmosphere showed great promise- a heavy ozone layer kept the planet cooler than expected, but gravitational measurements showed the gravity was rising exponentially. It seemed that the planet would have a significantly higher gravity at sea level than at a level relative to, say, Mount Everest. Rough measurements would say that you could jump closer to two times higher on a Mount Everest-sized mountain, in proportion, than at sea level. Air pressure was heavier, and once they broke into the slightly cloudy green-blue atmosphere, the jungly habitat suggested strong plants. Surface gravity was actually slightly below Earth norm, at about .95 of Earth Gravity. The planet had relatively powerful gravity, since it was 13% smaller than Earth.

With all these little facts in his head- he was forced into a long training to make preliminary theories and thoughts, and then investigate- he figured that the atmosphere, from the admin deck, was probably breathable. Either way, when they finally landed, he was the first to the bay's large cargo ramp, swerving around the three large pallets in the middle of the dropship (Supplies, equipment, and some lighter, specialized weaponry and devices), he switched on the enviroshield that would keep the dropship bay Earth-normal, and then set the ramp to descend.

He was immediately assaulted by a flying monkey covered in snake-like skin, with four arms and two legs and a long tail ending in a small curved claw. Faced with an unfamiliar creature wrapping itself around his upper torso and head, tail striking uselessly against his armor, small claws sliding off, he fell back with a distinctive clatter, and struggled with the unusually strong, wolf-sized monkey. With its face very close to his own, Jack's very much panicked thoughts were absently observing it- five eyes, one in its forehead, another where they would "normally" be, and another set farther apart, allowing a full 260 degree view, with a mouth dominated by a row of flat, squat teeth suited for eating plants or fruit, and then a second row of teeth dominated by spiky, irregular canines that seemed to move on their own.

He groaned, and let the monkey thing try to eat him. After a moment, his fist came up and connected against the muscled, scaly body. The solid impact tossed it to the side, and it scurried out immediately after, recovering quickly.

Watching the monkey... thing claw at the commander for a few moments, Carter stepped outside, fumbling a bit with his pistol. Shame it had ran; he was sure that they would want to analyze it back at the lab, finding all the little quirks of his biology. He inched across the ground, fully expecting to be attacked at any moment, spinning to try to watch everywhere. It was hard to take in all this, honestly. The giant mushrooms probably had some sort of connection like some back on Earth did. He supposed that if so, the planet's largest organism was probably the mushrooms, collectively. He was probably walking over some of it right now. Seeing a small twitch, he jumped. Suddenly, it occurred to him that the monkeys might not be the top of the food chain around here. Well, he'd find out eventually, he supposed.

When the shuttle took off from the hanger, Kelsey sealed the helmet on her head and booted it up to make sure all the functions were working. On her wrist appeared a heads up display showing the vital signs of all the expedition members provided by the same injections that was required for the transmitter. She had been in plenty of dropships during her time the infantry and was very used to the felling of the ship hitting the atmosphere and breaking through to the surface.

Kelsey watched as the commanding officer open the hatch leading to the surface and was shocked when a primate like creature attacked the man activating an alarm on her heads-up display. The alarm indicated an elevated adrenaline level as Hughes fought off the creature and got to his feet. She unhooked her harness and approached the man as the levels returned to normal on her meters. "Well that is an interesting start to this little adventure Sir. Don't worry you will be fine, that's why I am here." The medic smiles at him through her mask and patted him on the back before hefting her rifle onto her shoulder ready for anything that could happen.