Bad Day in Hell

Hot on Winston's heels, you slip by the enraged NonCom and race down the main corridor. Hanging a right, you find yourself in the flight deck, if it can be called that. In truth the room contains two airlocks leading to a pair of dropships fastened to the Prowler's outer hull.

Private Teddy "Tits" Larou, always the brown-noser, stands at attention beside one of the airlocks, suited up and ready to roll.

"Hey, Tits," Winston greets, snapping his gum as he sashays through the hatch. Seems the Corporal's regained a little of his spine.

"It's Larou, you dumb bastard," Tits growls between clenched teeth.