Post by Durant, M. on Jun 15, 2016 15:32:05 GMT -5
0700 Hours, August 12, 2542 (MILITARY CALENDAR) /
Hangar 2-C, C-Deck, aboard UNSC Vengeance,
en route to Melfa, Zeta-Zorata System
The hangar was alive with activity. Marines from across the battalion moved to and fro in full armor; they loaded crates onto aircraft, underwent inspections, talked amongst themselves, or ate breakfast. Much to the surprise of Second Lieutenant Michael Durant, the chow hall cooks had come down to the hangar with enough food for twice their number. The atmosphere of the hangar was jovial, excited, and there was an air of anticipation that settled over everyone.
Soon the First Suicide Battalion would deploy to the ground and join the fight. Michael scanned the crowd and was unsurprised to see that even the most pessimistic of his bunch seemed in high spirits. Perhaps it was because of the chow that had been brought down to them, though he preferred to think it was because they were excited for the opportunity to deploy into a combat zone again.
Lieutenant Durant tore his eyes away from the Marines around him and looked down at the tray of food he held up precariously with one hand. His meal of corn beef hash and fried potatoes was half gone, and yet, his stomach growled as if it hadn't received the slightest bit of sustenance. Michael chuckled to himself and took another bite out of his food, savoring the taste upon his tongue before swallowing. The cooks had really outcome themselves this time. The food was delicious.
"Check it out, sir," carried the voice of Gunnery Sergeant Sabre from behind him. Michael turned around and looked where Sabre pointed. Colonel Harrison and the Major were standing by an Albatross with a slew of Marines, armed to the teeth, standing around them. It looked to Durant as if the XO was about to disembark from the Vengeance, as he -- unlike the Colonel -- was in full battle rattle with a rifle sling.
Sure enough, it hadn't been longer than a minute before the XO was on the transport, the large number of Marines following behind him while the battalion commander stood at the ramp and watched as it closed and sealed. "Looks like XO is about to have some fun without us," the SNCO said.
Durant turned and looked at his platoon sergeant. "We'll get our chance soon enough, Gunny," he said. "The Major's headed down to prepare the doggies for our arrival."
"Oorah, sir," Sabre replied with a smirk.
Durant smiled back and then returned his attention to his food. It took all of about a minute to finish off the last scraps of the beef hash and then he moved over to the makeshift chow line to return the tray to its proper place. After that was out of the way, the Lieutenant marched back over to his platoon and cleared his throat. "Listen up," he said forcefully, getting their attention for a moment. "It was nice of the swabbies to bring chow down for us, so make sure you thank them for it. Otherwise next time they might spit in our food. I want all of you to enjoy your chow, but after you've finished stuffing your faces, it'll be time to get to business. Squad leaders, I want PCCs and PCIs executed in fifteen minutes. That is all. As you were."
Hangar 2-C, C-Deck, aboard UNSC Vengeance,
en route to Melfa, Zeta-Zorata System
The hangar was alive with activity. Marines from across the battalion moved to and fro in full armor; they loaded crates onto aircraft, underwent inspections, talked amongst themselves, or ate breakfast. Much to the surprise of Second Lieutenant Michael Durant, the chow hall cooks had come down to the hangar with enough food for twice their number. The atmosphere of the hangar was jovial, excited, and there was an air of anticipation that settled over everyone.
Soon the First Suicide Battalion would deploy to the ground and join the fight. Michael scanned the crowd and was unsurprised to see that even the most pessimistic of his bunch seemed in high spirits. Perhaps it was because of the chow that had been brought down to them, though he preferred to think it was because they were excited for the opportunity to deploy into a combat zone again.
Lieutenant Durant tore his eyes away from the Marines around him and looked down at the tray of food he held up precariously with one hand. His meal of corn beef hash and fried potatoes was half gone, and yet, his stomach growled as if it hadn't received the slightest bit of sustenance. Michael chuckled to himself and took another bite out of his food, savoring the taste upon his tongue before swallowing. The cooks had really outcome themselves this time. The food was delicious.
"Check it out, sir," carried the voice of Gunnery Sergeant Sabre from behind him. Michael turned around and looked where Sabre pointed. Colonel Harrison and the Major were standing by an Albatross with a slew of Marines, armed to the teeth, standing around them. It looked to Durant as if the XO was about to disembark from the Vengeance, as he -- unlike the Colonel -- was in full battle rattle with a rifle sling.
Sure enough, it hadn't been longer than a minute before the XO was on the transport, the large number of Marines following behind him while the battalion commander stood at the ramp and watched as it closed and sealed. "Looks like XO is about to have some fun without us," the SNCO said.
Durant turned and looked at his platoon sergeant. "We'll get our chance soon enough, Gunny," he said. "The Major's headed down to prepare the doggies for our arrival."
"Oorah, sir," Sabre replied with a smirk.
Durant smiled back and then returned his attention to his food. It took all of about a minute to finish off the last scraps of the beef hash and then he moved over to the makeshift chow line to return the tray to its proper place. After that was out of the way, the Lieutenant marched back over to his platoon and cleared his throat. "Listen up," he said forcefully, getting their attention for a moment. "It was nice of the swabbies to bring chow down for us, so make sure you thank them for it. Otherwise next time they might spit in our food. I want all of you to enjoy your chow, but after you've finished stuffing your faces, it'll be time to get to business. Squad leaders, I want PCCs and PCIs executed in fifteen minutes. That is all. As you were."