Flying… no this was no longer flying. The primal part of the large lizard’s brain kicked in, suddenly thrashing in his harness. He hissed as his eyes open wide showing little more than snake like slits as he tried to process where he was, what he was doing, why he was hanging as he was. His mind continued to bring back images of what had happened…<br/><br/>Krixis struck a quick salute to his superior officer “Staff Sergeant Krixis Rochester sir, it is a pleasure. Marine!”  His head turns as he snaps back to the marine who had accompanied him, making sure his new friend got into the shuttle before he himself joined him.  His shotgun strapped in the case beside him, slipping into the magnetic lock and being locked on either end as the restraint straps tightened around the top and bottom.  The middle of the chair slid down to allow room for his tail as he locked the shoulder bar into place and clipped it down, grimacing, here came the worst part. He was never good with reentry, it was always something out of the marines hands and now…at this moment what was something more frightening than death. The ship rocked violently as it hit atmosphere, the reptilian being tossed in his harness before his head slammed back…then nothing.<br/><br/>Krixis blinked a few times, bearing his sharp teeth in pain as he struggled in the vest. It looked like there were others down below mulling about over bodies of dead marines. Seeing the sights he reached over to check the marine he had helped get off the station, cursing quietly to himself at the fact he had died. All that work to get off the ship and it is the escape that kills you, not a good way to go.  “Those of you down there who can move, get out of the way, I don’t want to land on anyone.” With the statement he reached up and pulled the emergency release, the harass giving a hiss before foaling away, the marine landing gracefully on his feet. “LT, you still alive in here?” he calls, his low-light vision not the best thanks to his heritage, he could make out shapes, but faces were a lot harder.<br/><br/>As he waited for a response he climbed back up to his harness, giving the marine who had accompanied him a quick scan to make sure his death was logged then working on prying his shotgun from the holder. Thankfully the holder had held during the impact and his equipment looked no worse for wear, it felt a whole lot better to be armed again on an alien world, even surrounded by fellow marines nothing made up for the feeling of having your own gun in hand.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>