The explosions seemed more distant now. Perhaps that meant we were beneath their target area and getting close to landing. If that was the case, I hoped we'd start slowing down sometime soon.

On the opposite side of the shuttle, another window gave way with a theatrical pop, showering the cabin with shards of glass. The wind hurtled through the cabin now.

The G-Force stretched the skin on our faces comically as we descended. It was difficult to move now, and even breathing was painful as I forced my lungs to expand against the huge pressure building on my chest.

We must still be at a fairly high altitude. The air was thin and unsatisfying. My lungs struggled to expand again, desperate for oxygen.

My vision was starting to blur slightly around the edges, flickering now.

The rest of the squad were rigid in their seats braced against the howling wind.

Robinson had closed his eyes and tilted his head forward; his lips moved as he murmured a prayer.

Kuwta's mouth was drawn back in a savage grimace showing her fangs. She appeared determined to fight to the end.

Sarge stared stoically forward, emanating confidence, and reassurance to the rest of us.

Westcott was grinning like a maniac. He didn't need reassurance. He seemed to be welcoming our imminent deaths.

I scrunched my eyes shut, blocking out reality and attempting to prevent tears from flowing. I was too young to die. I had done so little in my life. All the sensible choices I'd made flashed before my eyes. There were far too many mistakes to be made in my future, mistakes that I wanted to enjoy making. I promised myself if I survived this, I'd embrace more risks.

Air exploded out of my chest as we slammed to a stop suddenly. The seatbelt dug painfully into my arms, as it stopped me from being smashed against the side of the hull. Then I floated for a split second and came down to earth again with a bump as once again the shuttle touched down.

We'd survived the descent. The artillery hadn't hit us!

Then I felt water soaking through my boots. In the distance, I could see the defenses, which were our mission objective. Sadly, we were nowhere near them, floating some distance offshore.

The shuttle's engine spluttered as the pilot attempted to restart it. After the second attempt, there was a momentary silence. Then a red light started flashing as the back door descended.

Dotted in the ocean around us were other shuttles, bobbing up and down. A burst of water flew up as one of them suddenly sank beneath the waves. I don't think any of its squad escaped.

My ankles were soaked now, and the water was rising fast as the craft took on water. More and more of the grey ocean slurped eagerly into the craft. It wouldn't be long until it's embrace dragged the craft under, and our shuttle took its final dive.

This mission was fast turning into a total clusterfuck.

"Time to leave," Sarge indicated, pushing people towards the exit.

Robinson was first in, "Fuck me. It's cold," he acknowledged.

The others followed, launching themselves into the cold seawater without pausing.

The water's dark grey froth lapped at the edge of the shuttle. My stomach lurched as I considered my options, and my legs refused to move.

"What are you waiting for?" Sarge hollered as I stood on the edge.

I stared at him. "I can't swim," I admitted. The idea of swimming hadn't appealed to me. Learning to swim included the genuine risk of drowning, and anything which included the potential for death hadn't been high on my to do list before I'd joined the Marines. These days, sadly, everything I did seemed to contain a high potential for death.

"Time to learn then." With that, Sarge pushed me forward.

The water was freezing, and I gasped involuntarily as I entered it. Releasing all the precious oxygen from my lungs. My feet and arms windmilled wildly as I panicked. There was no ground. I was going to drown. My head went under for a second, and I took in a mouthful of disgusting, salty water. Thrashing around in the water, I lifted my head out of the water and felt cool air on my face. I gulped down a deep breath and kept flailing. There was nothing beneath me but a watery grave. Hopefully, my motions would keep me afloat.

Something hit me, hard. That fucking hurt.

"Stop struggling, idiot," Kuwta said impatiently and punched me again. Shocked, I stopped moving and felt myself sinking. Before I could go under, though, her strong arm looped around me, and she started swimming for the shore. Dragging my useless self along with her.

The water was crowded with hundreds of bedraggled soldiers trying to reach the beach. For the enemy, it was like shooting fish in a barrel.

Kuwta dragged me along, and I watched helplessly as around us, our fellow troopers died.

When we reached the rocky outcrop that the squad was using for cover, It felt good to have ground under my feet once again. We were still waist-high in water, and bullets zipped past with terrifying frequency, but the danger of drowning was in the past.

Always look on the bright side of life.

By some miracle, the entire squad was still alive. A red splotch on his shoulder showed Westcott had caught a bullet at some point, but the kid was uncharacteristically quiet. He watched the beach ahead of us without a word of complaint. Perhaps he realized we'd all be dead soon. Imminent death had a way of changing your priorities.

"You should have left him," Robinson said with a grin. You really feel the love and camaraderie in this squad.

"And waste a perfectly good meatshield?" The Orc replied, "I figure he was good for a half dozen bullets. Not my fault the enemy can't shoot for shit."

Their banter continued as the corpse of a blue-faced humanoid drifted past. The bullets riddling his body told me that the enemy's shooting wasn't as inaccurate as Kuwta liked to imagine. I crouched in a little closer to the rockface; you can never be too careful.

In the distance loomed a huge cliff, and jutting out of its solid stone face were huge turrets. The ground shook as they fired, fortunately aiming for more substantial prey than a few stragglers in hiding.

A plume of water jetted up over us as a rogue shell landed some fifty feet away. It had been aimed at an amphibious assault craft that had emerged from one of the shuttles. The craft spun wildly as it was caught in the current created by the explosion. Screams of nearby soldiers rang out as they were crushed.

Having finally caught my breath, I asked. "What now?"

Sarge paused, picking his words with care. He pointed to the remains of a vehicle some fifty feet forward of our position. "When I give you the word, you move to that position. Run crouched over, so you present a smaller target, but run."

Up and down the beach, other crouched groups of soldiers sat waiting to make their move. A hundred feet to our left, a group of yellow-skinned men lurched out from cover, sprinting forward. Instantly one went down with a gurgling cry as a bullet caught his thigh.

One of his squad-mates paused at the sound of his cry. His head exploded in a spray of gore. The remainder of the runners made it another fifty feet before they too, were tagged by gunfire. The injured man tried to crawl back behind cover.

His body repeatedly jerked as bullets hit him, but he was stubborn and refused to die. Then just as I thought he was going to make it, a shell caught him in the neck, just under his helmet. He fell forward for a final time, unmoving.

He remained silent. Further down the line another group charged and were cut down nearly instantly. This was a bloodbath.

I looked at Sarge nervously, was that going to be our fate? When would he make the call for us to leave the safety of our shelter and rush the bunker.

Would I join the others when they moved, even knowing certain death awaited us?