It was impossible to keep still.
Everything around him shook and jumped with every moment. It was also impossible to even try to sleep so he opened his eyes again. The small metal compartment jostled the rest of the squad around in a uniform manner.
Sitting in the aircraft Sparek could see just how far everyone had come along. All were buckled into their seats and the spectre crew, behind their almost bug eyed helmets, were chatting over their thick microphones. Yuri began cleaning the excess mess from his rifle, running a finger along the scratched marks in the paint. Pwcca removed his smock, finally, and was running his hand over the rips and tears where the material had become damaged. Harved rubbed his eyes before replacing his glareglasses and observing Pwcca’s jaw. Ezral and Adrian shared a joke. Ezral looked almost as messy as Saethwyr, having both handled the staircase as well as they did. Clara sat, eyes closed and arms crossed. He wasn’t sure if she’d fallen asleep. She deserved it though, either way. They all did.
Leather handles dangled and danced from the metallic ceiling. The engines were loud and drummed out a staccato through the chassis and framework of the flying craft. Equipment was stowed around them them. Strapped down, clamped down, and magnetised to their fixtures and caught in thick netting around them. He envied them their comfort until he realised that he was strapped into his seat too, forced to enjoy every jerking motion of turbulence that the spectre had shared.
Sparek mumbled something that nobody heard, crossed his own arms and fell asleep.
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OPERATION ELANOR TIME REMAINING 00:00:00
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– by Kier Sparey
© Kier Sparey 2014