Sighing to himself, David walked to the far wall and stood silently, his weapon lowered and its pilot light unlit. He was not alone in the room however, as he entered the other occupants seemed to shrink inwards slightly, as if his very presence was somehow offensive to them. It was different from a cargo airlock in the fact that it had partitions for cover that could be extended from the floor and was more robustly armored than a regular airlock. The grated flooring gave way to thick steel panels as he entered the ship's main combat airlock. Walking from the armory briskly, he exited the armoured vault and started down the hall once more towards the ship's airlock. He turned and closed the case, withdrawing his special access card. He knew that anything wishing to do him harm would pay dearly for the offense now. He shouldered the pack and hefted the weapon, its old familiar weight giving him a feeling of solid comfort that little else could. Nothing quite sapped enemy morale harder than a gout of burning napalm turning their friends into screaming torches, and the solitary thought that they would likely be next. It was an old weapon, the design simply a refinement of ancient designs, but it was effective. The weapon was large and bulky, with a backpack housing that held the fuel canisters and a flexible armored pipe that fed the nozzle of the weapon. He smiled again as the case swung open and he was finally able to access his old friend. He inserted his special access card into the case and was rewarded with a sharp tone that quieted after a few moments. Far in the back, locked behind a layer of glazmite, was his Flamer Mk.64. He smiled under his mask, it would almost be worth it just to see their faces, but he stopped himself and continued walking. Of course the room was monitored heavily and he would be looked at a bit strangely by the command staff no doubt if he started making machine gun noises with his mouth like a kid. He saw a few LasBurs and even an M2-Mk12 heavy crewed machine gun, the urge to walk over and grab the handles of the massive weapon almost pulled him over in spite of his common sense. The racks of Jule2000 laser rifles and NUV-L2 Beamers ended and made way to more exotic weapons as he trekked deeper into the bowls of the room. ‘So beautiful.’ He thought to himself quietly as he walked along the racks towards the far corner of the room. He liked guns just as much as the next man, but the sight of the orderly racks stacked with row upon row of ordinance still brought a joyful tear to his eye. He stopped, taken aback by the sight as he always was. Nodding in appreciation as the program decided he was clear, the secondary doors opened and he was able to walk into the ship's armory. Inside was a small security terminal that scanned his biometrics and made the secondary determination that he was indeed himself. Pushing the buttons on the doorside keypanel, he punched in his access code and the door ground open. The door to the armory was three inches thick of titansteel plated metal and would likely resist most weapons that could be conceivably carried onto the ship. Keeping this in mind, he stopped at the large armored door he had just reached. He was more pragmatic about it however, the clean efficiency afforded by the brutalist design led to an innate understanding about the layout of the ship. He smiled, the clean lines and clinical fixtures of human ships were a comfort to him, some other races called the aesthetic bland and boring. The grated floor under his feet clinked slightly from his booted tread, the glowing diodes above casting a harsh white light over the interior of the ship. He walked slowly down the narrow passage to the main corridor and from there walked down the straight steel hall. He knew he was on the side of justice and this assurance gave him the strength to do what was necessary. He was actually a bit excited by the prospect, he wasn't a cold blooded killer like some other soldiers might have been, but the thought of saving innocent lives from the depredations of evil men and women made a fire light in his belly and a storm rage in his soul.

Once visual contact was established and it was determined that the station was indeed in distress, the operation would begin in earnest. Now according to the briefing they would be arriving in the colony’s system in the next twenty minutes and then would have another short five minute journey to establish visual contact with the station.

Little voice common sense media