DarkC
-KMC THREAD KILLER-
Clark rounded a corner and smashed headlong into a Grunt.
His first instinct was to shoot, but he remembered his orders. Instead, before the startled alien had a chance to raise its plasma pistol, Clark brought the BR-55 butt down on its head, dropping it like a sack of potatoes. Clark policed its pistol, and checked on him. His breathing was shallow but steady, and Clark looped a muscular hand in one of the armour crevices and tossed it behind their lines.
Plasma fire slashed through the hallway and hit the bulkhead. It sizzled and Clark instinctively ducked.
"No HE grenades. he told his marines. "Flashbang, fire in the hole." He took out a flashbang, pulled the pin, and tossed it into the next room.
The bang assaulted his ears and eyes even under his eyelids, and Clark heard the frustrated yell of the Elite. Clark dumped an excess energy charge into the confiscated plasma pistol and fired at the Elite; its shields snapped out. The Elite's aim went wild, but one shot nearly took Clark's arm out, and in turn Clark's aim was thrown awry as well. His rifle burst was a tad low, and nailed the Elite near the preradical hip. It howled, and Clark took out its weapon arm with another short burst.
The other troops in the room were a file of grunts, and all were knocked unconscious from the blast.
"Police their weapons, and take them to the medical bay." he ordered a three-man fire team, and turned back to his marines. "Riley, you're on point."
"Yes, sir!"