Edmund ran his hands through his hair as he thought about where they were headed. It wouldn't be his first time in battle against the Greys, nor would it be his first time in battle against them in a system they didn't want to give up. He had a decent idea of what to expect in the months, possibly years, ahead. He had seen Grey mechs and lived to tell the tale, something that not many men can claim, and he had seen the destruction they are capable of. The signature hum of the microwave emitters starting, the way that men within range of it would pop like some sort of pressurized blood balloon. Even those just out of range or behind cover could start going into seizures, veins rupturing all over their body and skin splitting in a horrifying display. Even if you were out of range of the microwave emitters the weapons the mechs wield is both awe inspiring and astoundingly terrifying.<br/><br/>He had seen a pair of jumper marines mount a failed attack on a mech. They attempted to have one marine go in for a direct attack and draw its attention while the second would spear the mech from the side. Unfortunately the distraction was not enough to occupy the turrets on the back of the mech and when the second marine leaped in to spear it the turrets spun around and targeted the explosive lance, hitting it with a laser and causing it to detonate in the hand of the marine, blowing off his right arm entirely and destroying much of his torso, the turrets continued targeting the falling marine's corpse and sliced it into dozens of progressively smaller pieces while the mech caught the directly attacking marine in a clawed hand and crushed him as he screamed and wildly fired his weapons to very limited effect on the mech, blood pouring from the powered armor as the massive claws cut through.<br/><br/>That scream, along with thousands of others he had heard on the battlefield and countless other horrors he had witnessed were burned into his mind. Despite all that he had seen and experienced he knew that this was where he wanted to be, to face these horrors so that others may live, so that the human race and its ideals could survive. To compound this idea he also knew that what he had been through paled in comparison to what others had faced and survived through, what his own ancestors had been through.<br/><br/>Their current enemy may be terrifying but it was not like the enemy that had taken Mankind's home planet. Fighting the Greys was like fighting a man that had an M16 with a Colt 1911, at least you had a fighting chance. The fight for Earth had been like fighting a main battle tank with your bare hands. And he could do his part in this war, maybe once the PGMC had eliminated the Grey threat they would have a fighting chance at whatever it was that attacked Earth. He shook his head and cleared his thoughts, trying to refocus on finishing cleaning himself up and getting ready to go brief his squad. He went through his usual cleaning routines on autopilot, and stepped out of the shower after a few minutes and drying off. The cloned flesh on his face didn't grow hair, leading to a sharp divide between where the cloned flesh ends and his natural sideburns begin, so he didn't need to worry about shaving. He looked in the mirror for a few long moments anyways, studying his own scars with a blank mind for a few moments before moving on and getting dressed. As usual he completely forgot to comb his short brown hair, his mind occupied by other thoughts.<br/><br/>He put on his standard-issue uniform and boots, going through the whole process quickly and automatically. Before long he was heading out of his room and toward the briefing room. It was a roughly five minute walk from where his sleeping quarters were, giving him a bit of time to clear his thoughts and think on how to phrase the briefing. There was still plenty of time before most of the squad would even arrive, he guessed, and it's not as though the briefing was very urgent to begin with.<i><span style="color: red">Should I mention my own thoughts on the risks in the system? There are a pretty large number of new recruits, might not know what to expect. Then again, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm just getting jumpy, don't want to scare them off from the little bit of rest they still have before we arrive on the front lines.</span></i>Edmund rubbed his face with his human hand in a display of mild frustration as he approached the door to the briefing room.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>