CadetNewb
Well-Known Member
As the machinegun's short, cobbled together belt of ammunition jammed in the feed tray, the Private swore. "Shit, I missed." He then turned a more observant eye on the other Nepleslian Marine and looked about for a rank and name patch. It took a short bit to get his eyes to focus again after the bright muzzle flashes. "I'm Private Third Class Matteo Witt. Just Matt though." He jumped off to the opposite side of the truck, and rummaged over the legless ID-SOL. "I wasn't assigned a unit yet; just told to run out and kill anything not following the good old Nepleslia Way." Matt gave out an exclamation as he found what he was looking for.
"Skwigleff, cold potato!" A pineapple grenade was chucked over the truck bed and right at the other Private. "Grab that and let's get out of the open. I'd rather not have the guy who lent me a hand biting the dust the same way he helped." He popped back up from behind the other side of the truck, holding another SMG and belt of magazines.
"Hey, you want this? The big stick says you're compensating, but this doesn't."
"Skwigleff, cold potato!" A pineapple grenade was chucked over the truck bed and right at the other Private. "Grab that and let's get out of the open. I'd rather not have the guy who lent me a hand biting the dust the same way he helped." He popped back up from behind the other side of the truck, holding another SMG and belt of magazines.
"Hey, you want this? The big stick says you're compensating, but this doesn't."