Into the Abyss

[Dane Summers]

The only sound in his ears was the heavy impact his military boots made against the metal grating as he ran, and his heavy breath, in line with his heartbeat. The rattle of his combat webbing, and the gentle sound of gunmetal against fabric seemed a million miles away. The cracking of stressed leather as his gloved hands wrapped tightly around his issued bullpup rifle, seemed more a feel then a noise. Even his own thoughts were just the echoing of the sounds.

With his breathing in control, he came to a halt in the hanger bay, standing to attention next to his comrades in the Militsiya, his rifle slung, and unloaded.

He let out a shudder - it was cold in the hangar bay. So close to space, the heat bled out - but it was cold everywhere. Whether in his bunk with blankets that were never thick enough, or in the cockpit of his fighter, despite always being covered with sweat - it was always cold.

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