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Eagle's Talon RP - Off Duty RP


D-38 Boss

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"That is all, sir. Have a bird ready in the hangar bay for my squad by fifteen-hundred," James concluded, clicking his boot heels together and snapping a salute before he about-faced.

 

The moment he turned the corner, he pulled his personal data-pad from his thigh pocket and brought up a message prompt, tagging the recipients as every member from Wolfpack 3-1. The message was simple.

 

//WIPE YOUR D***S OFF AND KIT UP. DEPARTURE FROM HANGAR 4C AT 1500.

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Salvinski frowned as he checked over the message now visible on his data-pad.

 

How the hell did the Sarge know about his sexual exploits?

 

He had this wonderful young Marine with low self-esteem giving him a quick 'diagonstic check' to confirm all his bits and pieces worked, and here he was getting orders to grab gear and jump ship. She was taking her time in a way he very much enjoyed and he had to admit, Lieutenant Holiday was quite the gal for setting him up with a high-quality piece of ***. Of course, he wouldn't be enjoying that *** thanks to new developments.

 

She glanced up at him, big blue orbs staring into his soul while her lips were wrapped firmly around his-

 

"Look, I don't want to rush you or anything," a chill went down his spine as she proved once again how adept she was in her field and how much he was going to be missing out on, "But - I - uh, deployment. Yeah."

 

Their was a half-nod of understanding, though her position or current activities didn't cease in the slightest. Instead, she started giving him 110% - in short, she was providing more driven then any other Marine Salvinski had ever met. And here she was being driven to do her best, while sitting between his legs.

 

She finished her rundown, he retrieved his pants, gave her a pat on the top of the head while she finished licking the last traces from her lips and he dashed out into the hallway before taking off at a run.

 

About the point where Salvinski left the room, Lieutenant Holiday wandered in in nothing more than a pair of shorts, "Maddie, where'd that guy run off to?"

 

"Mission," Madaline replied.

 

"How was-"

 

Madaline's impish grin served to answer that question quite well. Her grin widened as Holiday slid her shorts down toned thighs until the black stretch fabric puddled around her ankles.

 

---

 

Meanwhile, Salvinski was rushing down the hallway failing to realize he was actively missing out on the chance at a three-way with a hot Lieutenant and one of her subordinates. Instead, he was slipping on body armor and loading magazines with 7.62 while two hot and ready women set upon eachother like rabid animals.

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By the time Lockett escaped the steamy confines of a shower room in lockdown, with his datapad in hand to act as his hall pass, Smith was already thirty feet ahead of him down the corridor, fully geared with his armor rattling as he trotted down toward the hangar bay. Aaron still had yet to get his boots on, cursing himself as he frustratedly ran a hand over his damp hair.

 

He rushed into the barracks, donned his M52B and web gear, and just as he reached for his M739 SAW with one hand, his helmet was being presented from the corner of his eye as Grey passed with a DMR hanging from his shoulder.

 

"Steam room worth it?" he asked.

 

Lockett snickered. "Stuck on lockdown in a co-ed shower room? How can't it be?"

 

Richard simply rolled his eyes and vanished from sight, lightly punching the support gunner's arm on his way out.

 

 

 

It would be another two minutes before the rest of Wolfpack 3-1 arrived in the hangar bay, standing in a staggered group in front of their assigned dropship, the pilot of which, a female Warrant Officer who didn't seem intent on removing her flight helmet, sat at the edge of its cockpit with one leg over the other, making a habit of avoiding the squad of devil dogs. Grey couldn't blame her, and Aaron would likely bust his balls for understanding, being the more upstanding, more woman-respecting member of the team, right next to Malachi.

 

Speak of the devil, he thought, the Sergeant had just entered, MA5 hanging over his vest and a black balaclava down around his neck. "Aaron, put your sleeves down. You'll thank me later."

 

Lockett furrowed his brow but did as instructed, rolling the sleeves down on his fatigue shirt, tightening their velcro cuffs. "What's the op, Sergeant?"

 

"Colony blackout on Harvest--Dry Falls, apparently notorious for having anti-UNSC elements."

 

Smith scoffed, muttering, "Dumbass colonists..."

 

Aaron laughed. "Hey. Hearts and minds."

 

Loudly clearing his throat, James shifted his weight. "Can I finish?" A combined silence gave him a satisfactory answer. "Comms have been out for about three days. Admiral Parker suspects Insurrectionist activity, and thus we have been given a zero tolerance mandate."

 

"Shoot to kill?"

 

"Affirmative, but remember the rules of engagement if it comes to that and check your targets after calling them. Despite potential threats, people do still live here, so let's try to keep this as recon-only for now, copacetic?"

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((Dryskim, in the interests of keeping the Mods from shutting down the thread, can you keep it PG-13?))

 

Razgriz had just returned from their mission, and we're sitting in their bunk room, shooting the breeze.

 

"I'm telling you, Tupac is the best thing to happen to music." Joe Said.

 

Mathison shook his head.

 

"yeah because music sucked before right? Beach Boys, Doors, The Beatles? Totally irrelevant because of Tupac right?"

 

"I'm not saying they didn't do their part, I'm saying Tupac made a bigger contribution."

 

"How?" Ty said. "I don't exactly recall anyone other than rappers claiming Tupac as one of their influences, while almost everyone had inspirations from The Beatles in one way or another."

 

"It's not the music, it's the Content. The stuff he rapped about was hard, edgy stuff. no one else really did that before him."

 

"If you wanna talk about hard and edgy stuff, listen to Bad Religion. especially the early stuff. Tupac Started in 1990, Bad Religion started in 1973, and people have accused them of being Satanists, bit more Edgy then Tupac if I do say so myself." Ty said with a smirk.

 

"I ain't even mad Ty. I ain't even mad." Joe mocked him.

 

"Whatever. What about you Logan?"

 

"XTC. no discussion."

 

Ty shrugged.

 

"I can get behind that."

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Kel thought he needed a challenge. He unlocked his door and made way to the training room.

 

"Let's see..." he moved his eyes quickly while looking through the list of simulations."Well it seems the last 3 haven't been beaten. I can already defeat a an Imperial Admiral and Councilor." Which in that order, were numbers 48 and 49. He looked at the last one: SPARTAN John-117. Maybe Kel could beat him. He did meat the Master Chief and they trained, each battle leading to a stand off because they simply wouldn't give up or stop fighting or get injured. Kel activated the simulation and Master Chief's hologram, who was already in a fighting stance, appeared. The Arbiter got in one as well, ready to fight.

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((Helljumper, a lazy post is fine.))

 

Mathison turned to Ty.

 

"So what's your plan for the night?"

 

"They got a new game in the rec room."

 

"Of course. Joe?"

 

"Ty challenged me. gonna show him up."

 

"Ok.... Logan?"

 

Logan shrugged. "Prolly gonna sit with them."

 

Mathison sighed.

 

"guess I'll tag along. you kids are really boring, you know that? when I was your age, me and the squad would pull pranks for fun."

 

"That just seems, Infantile." Ty said.

 

"Yeah, but we turned out fine."

 

"suuuure you did."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"Nuthin'"

 

Ty hopped up and walked off to the Rec room.

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Miller appeared in front of the Admiral's desk.

 

"Sir, the Spartan command notified you about has arrived. Want me to check in on her?"

 

"Her?"

 

"Yes sir."

 

Parker sifted through the papers on his desk.

 

"Looks like even command can make mistakes..."

 

"Either way, should I give her a tour of the ship?"

 

"No. it's late, let her settle in, and I'll handle it in the morning."

 

"Yes sir."

 

Miller disappeared. Admiral parker took off his reading glasses and set them down on his desk. He picked up the block of wood he'd been working on and continued shaving it down.

 

"In a few days, I'll be able to paint it." He said with a smile. One of the few hobbies he really had, making wood models from scratch was something he'd done since he was a kid, and he took pride in his work.

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Kel saw the three other squad members crowded around a game screen. He didn't know who, but Kel heard one of the squad members yell,

 

"Haha! Beat your *** again Ty."

 

The Arbiter looked at Mathison. "You know you can say anything. Yell at me for glassing planets. Criticize me for my past. I don't care. Just keep Tyler in check, because if he gets on my bad side, he will have a cracked skull, broken rib-cage, crushed cervical, fractured feet, and shattered collar bones." Kel looked away. "So how did Tyler end up in 'Razgriz' squad?"

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Mathison shrugged.

 

"He's here for his own reasons... And he gets results." Mathison turned to him.

 

"But he's obviously lacking in brains. Think long and hard, split-lip. Your the only Elite on this ship. you go around threatening crew members and generally causing problems. How long do you think it'll be before the UNSC decides to space your sorry A--? You best tread carefully, for your own sake."

 

Mathison walked off.

Edited by D-38 Boss
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Alison gave the elite a final scowl and walked off. She thought to herself, "can we really trust covenant? After what had already happened with their last truce?" She shrugged of the thought for now, seeing as the one elite attack that would happen if the elite wanted to would quickly be dealt with on the ship.

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Ty was lying in his bunk. The events of the mission replaying in his mind. A whole ship, covertly infiltrated and every last crew member killed.

 

With their own technology!

 

If the covenant couldn't tell there were stealth elites on their ship, how could he?

 

He rolled over and opened the drawer next to his bed.  he reached in and moved the box he used to cover the little hidden pocket he dug in. He grabbed the pill bottle and dumped out two sleeping pills.

 

"I gotta stop with these things... there gonna get me in trouble one of these days if anyone else finds out." He thought to himself.

 

Little did he know, Mathison already knew.

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IC: JL

 

New.

 

That was the impression. JL - and most of his squad - was new. He didn't get the place. He knew there were other Spartan's around; and, thank goodness, good cooks. That much came from the rep of the Eagle's Talon. You didn't get around in other places without at least hearing snippets of how the guys serving on Eagle's Talon got all the good food.

 

JL walked out of his room, and looked around for a map. He walked ten paces, paused, then went back into his room.

 

I'm pretty sure that Park guy sent some kind of initiation thing, right?

 

He tapped around on his data pads, lazily shifting through as he looked for information that might pertain to Eagle's Talon and the whereabouts of it's cafeteria. Or maybe even the closest snackbar.

 

Done. He had found the data, and in one smooth motion had it transferred to his Armor's database. Placing his helmet on so he could use the visor, he quickly turned to exit the door - 

 

And smashed into the automatic door, which surprisingly decided to close itself now.

 

I take that as a testament to my speed, o' dear ship. Thank you.

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"Just getting to know our newest crew member. We weren't expecting a Spartan. Although If I'm not mistaken, Command has decided to send more..."

 

Parker stroked his mustache in thought.

 

"At any rate, if you have any questions, feel free to find me or ask Miller, the ships A.I., Or any of the crew for that matter."

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