Snippet #2827528

There's a light but steady crunch as a dozen masked individuals walk through the forest. They all wear flat, black colors, seeming military, but with no identifiable markings beyond the letters SEC etched in silver on their shoulder plates. One of them, in the center, is followed by a hovering box, about half the height of a person, in which a light thud can be heard over the hum of the hovertech, followed by a larger buzz and a muffled cry.
They steadily walk through the forest, rifles at ease until they hear the song. Slowly, the lead individual raises a fist, and those behind them halt, coming to a quick stop before the signal is given to regroup. They each move to be closer to the people around them, forming a triangle, the box in the center.

"10-Charlie to TOC, we have an unidentified noise coming from somewhere. Continue with extraction?" the front individual whispers into a radio.
The radio buzzes with static in all of the member's earpieces with a response. "TOC to FOT-10, do you have eyes on the origin of the noise?"
"Copy, turning on ORDs to scan." Each of the soldiers press the lense of their face shields, and with a click, they begin to scan their surroundings, rifles raised.
"The fuck's that grinding noise?" one of the soldiers whispers to the person next to them, met with a shrug. Across from them, one guy raises his hand, throwing up a fist and then pointing. All of the Death Unit immediately turn, some crouching to allow for those behind them to get a bearing on the target.
The guy who called in the sighting whispers to the officer"Fuck, UL, ORD's are going fuckin haywire just staring at this thing. Can't get a solid recog," as the unit leader raises his hand to his ear to call it in.
"TOC, we have eyes. Distance is forty yards, armed with greatsword. Coming straight at us. Uh, fog is... following them... Sending visual.
"Copy, 10-Charlie. Visual received, hold ground until extraction. 20 minutes until FOT-13 can be there."
"FOT-13? Why the hell-" one of the soldiers says before being cut off by TOC again. "Be warned, FOT 10, base Optical Recognition System says this is almost definitely anomalous. Refrain from engaging unless absolutely necessary. Respond with Anti-Armor if provoked. Keep captive secure above all else. TOC out."
At the finishing of this sentence, all of the soldiers immediately and silently drop their magazines and replace them with ones marked with red tape, pulling the container into the center of their two-layer semicircle.
"Safeties off."