Andras shivered as the icy cold sludge of the swamp swallowed his legs to the knee. Gunk was squelching in his boots and oozing from behind his knee guards, but he'd been though worse. His lasgun was slung over his shoulder, suspended safely above the bubbling, stinking swamp. The trees were twisted and their branches splayed out in all directions, the numerous branches were many fingered limbs whose digits were outstretched to the heavens. Through the dense vegetation and swirling mist, he could barely make out his camouflaged counterparts, but his trained eyes could make out the signature blue pilot light of Mathan's flamer through the gloom. The Guardsman's faces were streaked with mud and algae, rendering their pale skin, typical of Calthris' populace, invisible and confusing the sharp contours of their faces. The 'blip' of an opening vox channel piped into Andras' ear, and he wasn't surprised to hear Mathan's voice, heavily distorted by static, say,
"I hate this planet." Shaking his head with a smile, the soldier continued trudging through the thick, black mire.
It was as dawn broke over the warped leaves of the trees that Andras' group emerged from the swamp, stinking and blackened. As they slogged back into the makeshift camp, Leas pointed to a Chimera transport that had been parked in parallel with a line of tents with a cheeky grin on his face. Andras shook his head, knowing fully well what Leas had in mind. The chimera's amphibious capabilities as well as its speed and firepower would make it ideal for traversing the treacherous swamps that the fireteam patrolled. As an additional bonus, they needn't get their feet wet either.
"What did he say?" Mathan's eyes were hopeful, staring up at Andras from underneath his crimson helmet. His flamer was laid across his lap, the fuel disconnected and perched carefully atop an empty ammo crate. Andras grinned and said,
"Well lads, we have ourselves a transport." Cheers and whoops resounded around the chamber, it was a small victory, but it would make their duty far easier. Their celebrations died in their throats as they heard one of the speakers arranged around the camp crackle into life. It blurted an order, and cut out. "We'd best be going," shouted Andras dryly, "we have some traitors to kill."
