The clatter of boots down the landing ramp sounds like any day in training, but as you heft your assault rifle you remind yourself that training is over. You can already smell the metallic tinge of alien air, and as you step down out of the drop ship, the landscape dazzles under the glare of the star Sirius. All around you, fields of green and brown stretch away across the plains, interrupted eventually by rocky outcrops. In the distance, you can see red mountains standing tall against the pale sky. It's your first time on the planet Cerberus, and this is no sight-seeing tour.
You only joined this platoon twelve hours ago, having been flown in practically right after your graduation parade. Fifty men and women now under your command, and there hasn't been time to learn anybody's name yet.
Except for Sergeant Shah. You spot him giving instructions to a squad and you make your way over. If strike officer training taught you anything, it was to stick close to your sergeant.
His stocky figure looks very much at ease in armor as he steps toward you. He's shorter than most troopers you've seen, but doesn't seem the least encumbered by all his gear. His dark features are set in a neutral expression and his eyes flick up and down in what you interpret as a professional assessment.
"Sublieutenant," Shah says quietly. "I know this is your first real drop. But there are real rebels out there with real guns. Do you want me to lead the assault?"