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Jackson woke up in the ship's kitchen to the sound of alarms, and his fellow teammates running by. What the fuck... he quickly got up, throwing down the long dead cig from his mouth, and sprinted after the others. "What's going on!?" One of the looked back, and replied that Scalpel team was in...

Jackson continued down the hallway, disgruntled and angry at himself for both the outburst and giving them an inner show. Must have been the drugs wearing off, but he knew he couldn't pull a stunt like that again. He wondered if they bought anything he said...time will tell. He somehow managed...

Jackson listened to Petar and the Ayr, and they made a lot more sense than the others did. He might have been drunk, but somehow the words found their way in. "God...damnit." It was as if an internal battle was happening inside Jackson. His shitty, selfish core fighting the need to be part of a...

Jackson looked over at him sullenly. "Think I've done just that tonight, doin' the exact job I was hired to do. Might not be employee of the month, but the job gets done, one way or another."

Before Jackson could reply to Karina again, everyone else jumped in the argument against him. He didn't like that very much. He stomped out his cig, and angerly replied to the room, "Oh I'm sorry, did I forget? Did I not have my calendar set? Must be fuckin' bash Jackson day or something!" He...

Jackson took another long drag of his cig, and look over to Karina with a confused look. He then took the detonator out of his bag, and clicked it a couple times. Click click click. He then turned it over on it's side, and pointed to a small, scribbled signature in what look likes pencil...

Jackson stopped in his tracks when Petar called out to him, and a quick flash of anger passed across his safe, then it was gone as quickly as it came. He trotted back to the where the others were, and mimicked a tip hat towards Petar, "As you say boss!" Before lighting another cig and taking a...

As his hand slowly collided with the cyborg's, Jackson was overcome with happiness. If i can teach a robot to high five, I can do anything. "Aye! I'll drink to that! Success and overcoming things! With explosives!!!!" He added at the end. "Speaking of drinking," he continued as he lit another...

Jackson turned toward the scary looking cyborg who spoke towards him, and nodded in return as he walked up to him. "That's what I call a good, successful mission," he said with a wink. He put his hand up to high five the cyborg. "Look like this," and he motioned a clapping rhythm with his other...

As he set off the charges, Jackson couldn't help but smile. It's not everyday you get to take down a massive station with explosives, killing tens of enemies and who knows what else was on board. The blast was beautiful, with everyone scrambling. The weightlessness taking hold as the station...

"You guys need to herd them towards the explosives! I got the detonator ready!" Jackson yelled as he ran for the nearest boxes for cover. His finger was itching over the trigger. Big boom time big boom time come on.

Jackson realized there was no use fighting the man, and let himself be carried, grudgingly while shooting happened all around him. He never minded weapon fire, if anything it encouraged him. Either you get hit or you don't. Simplifies it a lot. Finally making it through the blast doors and...

Jackson let the drugs take over his control and the adrenaline was like a sweet honey coursing its way throughout his body. He watched as if he was along for the ride, as he jumped over the enemy defenses and onto one of the poor, unlucky bastards to be the target of his hammer. The man had a...

Jackson could only see red. Red blood. Red gore. The red flesh of his enemies as his launcher went thump after thump, and boom and kaboaw, the adrenaline rush flowing through him better than cocaine. His brain worked on overdrive and automatic, his muscles and body following its every command...

With a renewed vigor, Jackson's body welcomes the strong stim. "OOOOOHHHHH YEAAAAAAA!!!!!!!" Jackson yells as he stands up out of cover, and begins firing off his grenade launcher at anything that moves, his eyes darting wildly and every pour of his body sweatin' bullets. "EAT MY FUCKIN SHRAPNEL...

As Daniel's stims entered Jackson's system, he went into overdrive. It was like smoking the tobacco of a thousands cigars at once, a pop of Katoika powder, and ten punches to the face. Jackson was in heaven. "OOOOHHHH FUCK YEA!". From there, everything was a blur to Jackson. Combat broke out...

Jackson suddenly felt a slap across his back and quickly came out of his trance, "oh shit. What the fu.." He saw that everyone was gearing up to move, and the ship was also moving. "MISSSSION TIME!" He yelled out to himself, and happily strode down to the cargo bay, where the doors opened. As...

Jackson checks his watch while he paces and then lights up another cig. "Fuck man they're takin' their time. Guess I owe ya." He sighs and then goes looking for a quick drink.

Jackson took a seat on one of the boxes, as he watched Scalpel Team depart from the ship. They all carefully throdded out, and the doors closed behind them. He could tell all of them were tense, and slowly going out on their mission. Ah. Rookies. He shook his head at Lauren's warning of CO2. As...

Jackson stopped pacing and then felt all over his head with his free hand. Huh. "I got caught up in the excitement i forgot. Be right back..." He quickly sprinted back to his room where half his gear was strewn across the floor and bed. Searching through the piles of grenades, shells, dynamite...