He allowed himself a moment of relief as the shuttle finally reached orbit and started to fall into the planet’s atmosphere.  An hour of being crammed into his battlesuit inside a tiny shuttle didn't please him, even though there was no realistic alternative.  Most of his accompanying squad had retreated into playing music or watching movies through their suit systems, even though the latter was frowned upon by senior officers.  Charles was experienced enough not to blame them for wanting the distraction.  Promising trainees had had to be removed from the program after discovering that they couldn't endure more than a few minutes of isolation in the suits.

The reporter seemed to be bearing up well, he decided, as the shuttle started to shake violently.  There was no hope of hiding their existence any longer, so the pilot was trying to get them down on the ground as quickly as possible.  Charles sucked in a breath as gravity started to catch at them, yanking the Marines around as the shuttle dropped lower and lower.  As always, he had to fight to keep himself from throwing up.  The suit’s systems would take care of it, he knew, yet it was never pleasant – and he would have to buy the drinks when the regiment next went on leave.  It was the simplest way, they’d found, to discourage Marines from being sick in their suits.

There was a final series of shuddering motions that tore at the shuttle, then there was a final crash and silence.  Charles staggered to his feet as the hatch opened, revealing the destroyed settlement right in front of them.  The Marines gathered themselves and advanced outwards, weapons at the ready as they swept for potential threats.   But nothing materialised to greet them.

The settlement was very basic; a handful of prefabricated buildings making up the centre of town, surrounded by a hundred houses and makeshift shacks built from local wood and stone.  Shipping anything across interstellar distances was expensive, Charles knew; it made economic sense to start using local materials as soon as possible, even if some folks whined about pillaging natural resources on newly-discovered worlds.  Besides, stone and wood were much easier to replace or rebuild than anything that had been dragged across dozens of light years from Earth.

It had once been a well-developed settlement, he knew.  Now, it was a ruin.  The metal buildings were melted, while the more natural constructions were burned-out ruins.  His suit’s HUD identified some of the buildings – transit barracks, a schoolroom, the governor’s residence – but it was impossible to link the names with the destroyed buildings.  The Marines spread out slowly, eying the blackened ruins as if they expected them to spring to life with hostile soldiers, yet nothing happened.  They were completely alone.

“Check the buildings,” Charles ordered.