It was cold; the chilly breeze crept between his leather knit gloves and armored forearm, but what could be expected from the cargo bay of a Pelican. As a United Nations Space Command standard issue drop ship, it was designed for quick entry and exit not the leisure of its passengers. Small patches of fog blanketed the valley, making it difficult to evaluate the surrounding terrain below. The Pelican held a steady altitude of 40 meters, barely high enough to evade the tall red cedars poking their head through the low clouds. It was barely dawn, the sun itself just waking up over the southern hills. Like a strobe light, rays of light streaked from behind the hills. Even if it were high noon, it would still be cold.

He lifted his rifle, a prototype BR-55 Battle Rifle and inspected it. The Battle Rifle had a long barrel with an optical scope capable of a three time zoom. It carried a 60 round magazine that housed deadly 9.5mm FMJ SAP ammunition. Pulling out the magazine, he confirmed it full. Slamming it back into the stock of the rifle, with one hand he leveled the weapon to his shoulder, sighting the morning sun rise through the optic. The Battle Rifle was capable of taking out multiple targets in close quarters while maintaining accuracy and firepower in long ranged engagements. It was the perfect weapon; perfect for Lieutenant Elijah Balfor.