=/\= Improvised Marine Barracks =/\=
Brent shook his head as he looked over the weapon in front of him. Who had taken care of this piece before him. Whoever they were, they should have been flogged. This weapon was in terrible shape. Corrosion on most of the coils, the metallic parts were attempting to oxidize. Most of the power cells had been near the end if their battery life and had to be recharged. The kinetic shells were at least stored properly so if they ever needed to be used again.
The armor was misplaced. Pieces were missing. He barely had enough to get his squad up and running. Very little spares. Slowly and methodically he pieced the rifle back together. At least now if they needed it they had the heavy guns to use. The phasers worked fine, but that was probably because they had been taken care of by security. Even if they were fleeters, security at least had the occasion to fire a phaser and needed to keep them clean and in use.
The SAW was working too other than that... Brent grunted. He wouldn't trust any of this equipment cleaning to the others. He wouldn't leave anything to chance, not that he figured they'd see a lot of action on a explorer ship with only what a squad? Maybe a platoon of Marines? At least he could get some time in the gym here with his gravity belt on and he could improve his shooting before he was reassigned to a different Marine unit.
"A romulan commander?" Brent said outloud and shook his head. "Straight in the middle of FUBAR here..."
Corporal Brent Warren