"Downtime"

[SuperCommando]

On the 28th of February, 2531, the daring actions of United Nations Space Command Navy and Marine personnel prevailed in an operation in the Gilese 876 system that arguably saved all of humanity from destruction at the hands of the alien Covenant. Dubbed “the Heroes of Lethe”, the surviving servicemen enjoyed a brief period of R&R on the colony of Gloamingwood, where they both celebrated their victory and mourned lost comrades-in-arms. Yet the war for survival rages on across the stars, and eventually they were sent to the planet Reach to train and await redeployment.

"Downtime"

UNSC training ground, mess hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

0600 Hours, Monday, April 15, 2531

Early morning sunlight shone in through the windows and doorways of the busy mess hall. Scattered in small groups throughout the rows of benches, groggy men chowed down on the last of their breakfast or chatted amongst each other. Standing off to the sides of the room were uniformed drill instructors who quietly observed the soldiers as they finished their meal.

These were the “Heroes of Lethe”?

To the DIs or anyone else, they didn’t look like anything special. Just men. Just like any other group of soldiers. Yet many of the Marines and ODSTs sitting here stuffing their faces were now seasoned combat veterans. And on top of that, they were credited for having prevented the Covenant from escaping with vital data that would have severely compromised the entire human race. Even after roughly a month and a half, the story was still big news in media across the colonies – ONI propaganda saw to that. After a rough start to a frightening war, the boost to morale was well-deserved. But was it their combat prowess to thank, or simply luck that granted their victory? And even more importantly, after all the praise and pampering, did they still have their edge?

After today’s exercises, they would find out for sure.

-----------------

NOTE: You are currently unarmed and have no NPCs with you for this RP, just your main character. Take this time to get into character a bit and mingle with other players. Training will start once a good number of people have posted.

Be sure to check the OOC thread for more details.

[dementedspartan]

John sat at one of the long brown benches, his arms resting on a white table; his food was infront of him, on a white plate. He sat there, picking odd pieces of "meat" off his plate, and putting them into his mouth. He doubted that it was meat, it was more likely some protein mush compacted into chunks, but he didn't care. He looked around, to see several Marines and a few ODST eating and chatting.

[Jakob]

Jakob picked at his food with an old military fork. The rations the chef made was nothing compared to the delicious meals he had at Gloamingwood. The thought of the nice hotel room and bar made him sigh a bit. In his other hand he played with an old photo of lost family, his girlfriend, just making him all the more depressed. He looked at the other men and women in the room. Marines, ODST's, all served with him on the carrier. They all held a bond few could say they had, but still, he could feel slight tension. The barriers of the ODST and the marine still not crumbling.

He took a small bite and laid his fork down. Looking down to better inspect the photo. He took in her features and tried to forget she was gone. As long as he was a hero, he did not have to care if she was dead. After all, he was a hero, no one could judge him for lost love.

_

Dmitri looked around. Bored with the lack of any action or fun around. He had already scarfed down his meal and the chefs refused to give him seconds. He idly replied to the other marine who was occasionally shooting a question at him. The small talk was nothing Dmitri felt like getting involved in. The marine shrugged and turned to the man next to him, giving him the same treatment he gave Dmitri.

Dmitri yawned and looked around, he noticed a soldier he did not know and walked over to say hello. Maybe he could have some interesting conversation for once. (If any of you want to take the persons place, feel free.)

[dementedspartan]

John looked around to see who was asking him the question. He saw a short, and thin asian Sergeant stood next to him. He spotted a large burn on the side of face and noted his blond hair. It wasn't that common these days. He put down his cutlery and stood up. He stuck ut his hand out infront of himself for the new Sergeant to shake "Hello. I'm John, John Norgate. Do you want to sit?"

(I changed my OP so it fits in the story better)

[nex]

Second Lieutenant Steve 'Crash' Colsten

UNSC Training Ground, Mess Hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

Crash brushed a crease from his dress jacket, as he strode with some semblance to purpose, into the Mess Hall. He was late, and he knew it. He was still adjusting to the military's early mornings, after several weeks leave.

He'd hoped that the freshly polished gold bars on his shoulders that had recently become a source of personal pride, would deflect attention away from his tardiness. And if that didn't work, the ONI patch would certainly have the desired effect.

Hastily, he made his way over to the serving hatch, and grabbed some food.

What was he doing here anyway? Training? As if he didn't have enough to do, that they could drag him away from his research and throw him into some dead end Infantry Training base. And on Reach, of all places. If there's one place that would have hated him more for his past, he'd yet to find it. Just as well all that was classified.

He moved towards an empty table, and for the second time today, found himself wishing that Paula and SOG-A, were sharing this assignment.

[Deleted]

Redsont gave out a pleasurable sigh after his meal, than thought what the rest of his crew was up to with their free time. He glanced around and saw that alot of people he had seen on Lethe were here too. He also wondered if any of them recognized him, though being an ODST aiding a spartan aboard a Covenant ship does kinda make a person stand out. Redsont didn't mind though, he was given a mission and he followed it through. Then he looked up at the observers who watched him and the others.

"Wonder what they have in store. Maybe a surprise commendation?", He thought allowed.

[Dutch]

It was a disgrace, absolutely unforgivable.

That they would DARE serve Corporal Jonathan L. Fisher anything but REAL meat. Fisher stared at the pile of beige product before him. They claimed it was pork loin but Fisher knew better. If it didn't smell like pork loin, taste like pork loin, or look like pork loin, it was NOT pork loin.

"And I'm a damn hero" He sighed into his hand, all the while prodding the mass with his fork. Why the hell was here anyway? Last he checked, he's just went through a complete baptism by fire, going in rifle cocked to save the world. They'd all done just that, and now this? Training, really? What could they possibly reach him?

He exhaled heavily, who knew what the behind-the-lines suits thought? Craning his head around, Fisher spotted his new CO Lieutenant Zaborowski eating a table away and staring reminiscently at a picture or something.

"Wonder what they have in store. Maybe a surprise commendation?" Fisher turned to see Redsont pondering their future aloud. To this Fisher only snorted,

"More like a drill in spit 'n' polish. Too long out in the field and you forgot how to clean your boots I guess."

[Jakob]

Jakob looked around, trying his best to push out the past. He folded the picture on the well folded lines and stuffed it in his pocket. He looked for some one he may knew, most of his platoon were god knows where, Jacob was getting R&R or some shit and most of the faces were unfamiliar. After gazing through the crowd, he finally saw Corporal Fisher. Deciding talking was better than sulking, he grabbed his tray-stood up and walked over to his seat.

Jakob walked over to him and grinned a bit,
"Fisher, right? The corporal who now has the honor to be in my platoon? Mind if I have a seat?"

_

Dmitri grabbed the mans hand and shook it with a strong grip. He stretched a bit and sat down, expecting the man to do the same.
"Now my friend! Let us exchange tales of the battle and laugh at good times and heroism!"

[spartan129]

Corporal Giuseppe Raspallo
Scout Sniper, UNSC Marine Corps

Giuseppe raised the fork to eye level, looking at the unappetizing bit of "food" stuck on the end of it. Closing his eyes, he quickly stuffed it into his mouth. It wasn't as bad as he had expected-but that didn't mean that it was good. He took another forkful, draining it with water from his canteen.

He looked around at the mess hall. He felt out of place here...he had yet to come across someone who hadn't served on Lethe, although he knew there were some. Taking another drink from his canteen, the Corporal turned back to his plate and resumed eating, wishing he knew some of the people here...

----------------------

Staff Sergeant Mark Wolfe
Squad Leader, UNSC Army

Wolfe didn't understand the problems everyone else had with this food. Compared with what he had had on the Harvest Campaign, this was a delicacy. The battle-hardened Sergeant tore a large bite out of his pork, chewing it with a satisfied expression. He glanced around the mess hall, trying to find other men from Army. Seeing none in the immediate vicinity, he shoveled down the rest of his food and stood up, walking away to weave through the veterans of Lethe.

[rom]

Staff Sergeant Ethan Rom

UNSC Training Ground, Mess Hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

Hero's of Lethe. That's not being full of themselves.

Ethan Rom sat drinking a cola... or at least what he thought was Cola, something from the outer colonies that was printed in a language that he didn't know.

Ethan Rom was a tank commander. He didn't have the option to be at Lethe if he wanted it. His 808 would have probably melted.

Oh that would be fun.

[spartan129]

Corporal Giuseppe Raspallo
Scout Sniper, UNSC Marine Corps

Glancing up from his food, Giuseppe noticed someone a table away who looked almost as out of place as he did. Leaving the mess hall food in slight disgust, the Corporal walked over to the Marine, a staff sergeant based on his rank patch, and held out his hand.

"Hello, name's Giuseppe Raspallo. Corporal. Mind if I take a seat?"

[rom]

Jul 31, 2011 11:56:38 GMT -6 Shiloh said:

Corporal Giuseppe Raspallo
Scout Sniper, UNSC Marine Corps

Glancing up from his food, Giuseppe noticed someone a table away who looked almost as out of place as he did. Leaving the mess hall food in slight disgust, the Corporal walked over to the Marine, a staff sergeant based on his rank patch, and held out his hand.

"Hello, name's Giuseppe Raspallo. Corporal. Mind if I take a seat?"

Staff Sergeant Ethan Rom

UNSC Training Ground, Mess Hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

"Who you calling 'Corporal' Corporal?" Ethan said with an annoyed looked on his face, but he quickly smiled. "I'm just kidding, I'm kidding! I knew what you meant."

"Staff Sergeant Ethan Rom, UNSC Marine Corps Armoured Cavalry. Take a seat."

[spartan129]

Jul 31, 2011 12:12:07 GMT -6 @rom said:

Staff Sergeant Ethan Rom

UNSC Training Ground, Mess Hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

"Who you calling 'Corporal' Corporal?" Ethan said with an annoyed looked on his face, but he quickly smiled. "I'm just kidding, I'm kidding! I knew what you meant."

"Staff Sergeant Ethan Rom, UNSC Marine Corps Armoured Cavalry. Take a seat."

Corporal Giuseppe Raspallo

UNSC Training Ground, Mess Hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

"Thanks," Giuseppe replied, relieved that the Staff Sergeant hadn't misunderstood what he said. "So, armour? That means you probably weren't on Lethe...Nor was I," he added. "Scout Sniper Corps," he said, indicating the symbol on his chest. "So, how'd you wind up here?"

[dementedspartan]

John sat down next to Sergeant Domborvski. "Yes. We must. Although, I must warn you I haven't seen that much combat, only on Mamore against Insurgents. But please, tell your stories." He placed another piece of "meat" in his mouth and took a sip of tasteless coffee.

[mrkaizer]

Lieutenant Commander Dr. Michael Sinclair

UNSC Training Ground, Mess Hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

Dr. Michael Sinclair frowned at the pile of beige…something that had been piled on his plate, and looked up at the person with the ladle. The mess worker behind the counter just shrugged. With a sigh Michael turned away from the counter and surveyed the mess hall, looking for a place to sit. He felt a bit out of place. Just about everyone was in uniform, while he stood in green scrubs with his white lab coat over it, his name and rank embroidered on the left breast pocket. But he was not the one to bother with uniform unless it was absolutely necessary. The air was thick with conversations, banter, laughter and the smell of humanity. And the smell of what passed for food around these parts. He spotted an empty seat next to an ONI lieutenant, and started to make his way over. This would either be an interesting dinner conversation, or a very quiet meal. You never knew with these spook types. In his head he went over the few case files he had. It was mostly just post-op cases in rehabilitation that needed checkups. They would be on reduced exercise regimes, as if any of them would actually follow that advice. Just as well this was a temporary assignment, he thought. Not only was the food terrible, but the posting was dull. He had been temporarily assigned here as camp surgeon, a position he thought of as a glorified cough drop dispenser. There were more important things for a trauma surgeon to do. He had put in for transfer to a front line unit, a field hospital or hospital ship. Working the hospitals on Reach was not only dull, but a waste of his skill. He wanted to be there on the front, to save lives. It was a wish that went back to his days as a paramedic and critical care practitioner in London, and it was what had driven him to apply for medical school in the UNSC.

He arrived at the lieutenants table and set his plate down. “This seat taken?” he asked with a smile.

[Daenerys Targaryen]

Lance Corporal Victoria Landcaster
UNSC Training Ground, Mess Hall B-41
Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

Victoria walked through the rows of tables, frowing down at what-ever-the-hell was infront of her. She was still trying to figure this out when she looked up, there was an empty seat across from a doctor and a spook. 'I'm always up for meating interesting people.. I guess' she thought to herself, still morning over the fact that her partner in crime, Chase, was somewhere else for the time being.

Victoria took a deep breath and strode over to the table, only getting there when the doctor himself was asking for the seat next to the spook. Without a word she sat down across from the two, the oni spook hadn't replied yet, her gaze soon returned to the "meat" as she poked it half heartedly with a fork.

[nex]

Second Lieutenant Steve 'Crash' Colsten

UNSC Training Ground, Mess Hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

He'd off-handly gestured to the chair the moment the surgeon had arrived. He was taking his time trying to identify the meal in front of him. He'd elected for the vegetarian option, after seeing the regular meal on offer. It wasn't that much better in appearence. An Assorted Vegatable Medley, with some unpronounceable local fish. He speared something on his fork, and raised in front of his face. It had the bland, soft appearence of a boiled cube of potato. He popped it into his mouth. Swede. He laid the fork back on the plate, and raised the cup of coffee, taking a hefty swig. It was only lukewarm, but strong enough to be worth it. With his other hand, he reached into an inner pocket, and drew out his palmtop.

He'd had some of the intrusion software updated. The ONI had taken the loss of data on Arcadia as an opportunity to seriously bulk up their security systems. Now, he needed a way round most of them, should the need arise. The lab technicians had also installed a rudimentary translation program. The software was still relatively primative, and he'd have to correct some of their mistakes at a later date.

Another newcomer sat opposite him. He nodded his head in greeting, then returned his attention to the small screen.

[SuperCommando]

“EVERYBODY SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!”

That was all the warning they got. Bursting through a side door at the front of the mess hall was the senior drill instructor, identified by the black color of his belt and signature round hat. As he power-walked his way front and center, men who were in line getting more food or standing around chatting immediately scrambled to find the nearest seat and plant themselves there. The room became instantly quiet.

“I am Gunnery Sergeant Mike Malone,” the senior DI announced. It was amazing how one man’s voice could be so incredibly loud. “You may only call me GUNNERY SERGEANT, or SIR! Anything else, and I WILL grind your face into the ground! I expect to only say things ONCE, so make sure you PAY ATTENTION, or else I WILL grind your face into the ground! If you have any objections, then GET OVER THEM, or I WILL grind your face into the ground! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD!?”

“YES SIR GUNNERY SERGEANT, SIR!” everyone in the room boomed in unison.

“Good. Now then, last time I checked none of you are snot-nosed recruits. You are SOLDIERS! When you are not in combat, you are PREPARING for combat. And that is EXACTLY what today is all about. Specifically, today’s exercises will focus on TEAMWORK. As I’m sure you’ve managed to figure out so far, your usual squads, teams, and units have been divided and jumbled all the hell up. This is intended to drill into your brains that IT DOES NOT MATTER if the man fighting next to you is your best buddy or a total stranger. WE ARE ALL HUMAN, and WE ARE ALL ON THE SAME SIDE. The enemy doesn’t give a damn if you’re Army or Marine, man or woman, soldier or civvie. Say what you will, but petty differences DON’T MEAN JACK SHIT WHEN YOU’RE ALL GETTING SHOT AT! It’s an old military cliché that a soldier doesn’t really fight for honor, glory, or country… in the heat of the moment, he fights for the men fighting next to him. Don’t you boys ever forget that.”

At that moment, a new figure entered the mess hall. Walking calmly, slowly, and straight-backed to the front of the room, she wore a pristine white uniform decorated with ribbons and medals, including two silver stars on her shoulder boards.

“Officer on deck!” cried one of the DIs as everyone jumped to attention.

Gunnery Sergeant Malone stood aside for her as she took her position up front. When she spoke, it was not in an unkind voice, “At ease, please resume you seats.”

“Observing today’s exercises will be Rear Admiral Jennifer Lakewood. Not only is today for practice, but it will also serve as an evaluation of sorts.” GySgt. Malone said. Lakewood stepped forward, hands clasped behind her back as she addressed the troops.

“Thanks to the recent victory at Lethe, you are now, for the moment, among the military’s most celebrated combat units. Both ONI and UNSC High Command are eager to see your continued performance. We hope you meet our expectations. That is all.”

Following her short, cryptic statement, the Rear Admiral then took her leave, exiting the mess hall the same way she entered. When she was gone, all eyes were back on GySgt. Malone.

“In case you knuckleheads didn’t catch that,” he said with a hint of a sneer in his thundering voice, “What the lady REALLY meant is we gotta make sure you didn’t GET SOFT during your leave! Now when I give the order, you will all hit the floor, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW, and show me ONE HUNDERED PUSH-UPS! Then you will exit this building and form ONE SINGLE FILE LINE outside where you will await further instruction! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD!?”

As the senior drill instructor spoke, others were already opening up the main double doors for the troops to exit through, letting in a blast of chilly morning air. All that awaited beyond the doors was an empty road… a long empty road.

“ALRIGHT,” Malone shouted. “NOW GO!!!”

[Jakob]

Jakob laid down his tray and turned around, when told to sit, he sat down half way, a small sign of rebellion but not enough to warrant any real berate. As he squat over the bench next to the corporal, he listened to the bull shit the man ranted. He grunted a curse and muttered under his breath,
"we have seen more action than you ever have so shut the hell up."

[SuperCommando]

While the others began their push-ups, Gunnery Sergeant Malone noticed one who was giving him a little attitude. “Is there a problem over here?” he replied. It wasn’t a question. It was a challenge.

The man marched right up to Jakob’s face, nice and close so the insubordinate officer could hear nice and clearly… and feel the spit as he bellowed his retort.

“Is there something wrong, Zaboroski? Am I pissing you off? Do you think I’m treating you unfair? Well guess what? THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD! You think you’re something special just because you had one successful op? Well WHOOP-DE-FRIGGIN-DOO! Service in the line of duty is EXPECTED! If any of you think you’ll be treated like royalty simply for doing you jobs, then THINK AGAIN! The big wigs up at HIGHCOM tasked me with making sure you boys still got your edge… so you better believe that’s EXACTLY what I’m gonna do!”

His words, while spoken to Jakob, were clearly directed at everyone in the room. When he was done, he actually gave Jakob a slight grin.

“I can tell you must not make a lot of friends with that attitude of yours, son. I like that. Reminds me of me. Now hurry up with those push-ups. I’m letting you off just this once, but trust me, if we have to have another one of these lovely little chats, your face WILL be grinding the ground. Now GET MOVING!”

[Dutch]

When the Gunnery Sergeant marched in and began yelling in a true drill sergeant fashion, Fisher had to restrain an urge not to break out laughing. As he shouted and threatened everyone and ranted about grinding faces into the ground, Fisher struggled to keep a straight face. After getting charged by a nine-foot alien swinging a damn energy sword, everything else kind of paled fear-wise.

The Read-Admiral came and left, that sure raised a few eyebrows. Of course the Gunny did his job by ripping apart any self-pride that came from her little speech, along with ordering a hundred push-ups there and then.

With a shrug Fisher threw himself to the ground and began pumping out the push ups. Next to him Lieutenant Zaborowski muttered something about the Gunny having no combat experience or something. He didn't hear all of it, but the Gunnery Sergeant sure did. He marched right on over and gave the Lieutenant a good dressing-down.

Fisher couldn't help it, the sheer stereotype that was blowing up next to him. He dropped to the ground and stayed there as be broke out into helpless laughter.

[Domoa]

Corporal Saul Abrams had only been in the room for a short time before the drill sergeant marched in began shouting at them. He could already tell this guy wasnt very friendly. The ranting only stopped for a few minutes while some Rear-Admiral said something, after that the soldiers were told to do a hudred pushups. Then one of the lieutenants that had apparently served on Lethe got into an argument with the drill sergeant, which seemed to cause another soldier to burst out laughing.

[Deleted]

Redsont could bear alot of things. He could bare fighting ugly aliens, he could bare being bald, he could bare being in enemy territory. But he couldn't bare a yelling drill sergeant, a rebellious lieutenant, and a laughing soldier. Redsont stood up from his seventy three push-ups and walked over to the drill sergeant.

"Do we have a problem here?!", Redsont yelled catching everyone off gaurd, "Lieutenant, I'd hope a man of your rank would be a little more respectful with others! And can we kill the damn jester who thinks this is funny?! Also dear Drill Sergeant, Sir, I would love to see you grind my face or anyone elses in this room when we all fought creatures you probably have nightmares about. Almost everyone in this room is more than three times the man you are, and if you don't like my tone, You can glady bite me Sir. I did not come to this little gathering to be yelled at by the likes of you. So if there is nothing further to delay us, can we all move along?"

Redsont waited and watched as everyone seemed to eye him up. No doubt some recognized him as the ODSt who aided the spartans, others saw a balls-to-the-walls crazy ODST. Redsont then looked at the lieutenant and the drill sergeant, both looked equally red and stared right back at him.

[dementedspartan]

Norgate was used to this. He only recently passed basic, about 8 months ago. In comparison to these combat-hardened "veterans" he was a rookie. A newbie. But he realised it was the DI's job. These people didn't. He just listened to the DIs comments and pushed over his shoulder as he listened to the music in his head.
He'd done it 8 months earlier. These people were clowns, jokers. Sure they had seen creatures that could give the DI nightmares, and maybe they were three times the men he was too, but they could atleast humour him, just for a few minutes. Seriously.

[spartan129]

Corporal Giuseppe Raspallo

UNSC Training Ground, Mess Hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

Raspallo tried to ignore the insubordination of the Lieutenant and the inexplicable laughter of another NCO, but it was hard to blot out the only sound in the mess hall. He had followed all of the DI's instructions as soon as he heard them. He may not be the best at pushups, but it wasn't like the DI was torturing them! The other soldiers and Marines who were being rebellious...Well, they were one of the things in the military that really pissed Raspallo off, and the young Corporal had seen his fair share of ugly and brutal.

[Jakob]

Jakob was about to do his push ups, smiling at the sergeant as he knew his game until a sergeant came up. He sat in a half prone, his arms out as he was about to do push ups when a sergeant walked over. He waited for the man to stop eating him out when he stood. He looked at the DI for a brief second with a snide look and turned to the sergeant.
"You're right Redsont" he said, vaguely remembering the man from Lethe. "I should act my rank, so that is why I am pulling it and telling you to do as the damned instructor says, sit your ass down and do some damned push ups."

Jakob was now heated, he did a brisk tone to the DI. He crossed his arms and started shouting at the top of his lungs,
"AND YOU SERGEANT" he yelled, adding emphasis on the 'sergeant, "I DO NOT CARE WHO ORDERED THIS. I AM FIRST LIEUTENANT ZABOROWSKI, THIS IS SERGEANT REDSONT. YOU ARE OF EQUAL RANK TO HIM AND LOWER RANK TO ME. YOU CAME IN HERE AND ORDERED US TO EXERCISE WITH NO REASON. THAT IS AN UN LAWFUL ORDER." Jakob took a deep breath. He knew he was sticking out his neck but he did not care.
"THIS IS SOMETHING WE DO IN BC, THE MEN WENT FROM HELL AND BACK SERGEANT. I CAN UNDERSTAND DRILLING A PRIVATE BUT YOU DO NOT DRILL THESE MEN."

[SuperCommando]

Malone took Jakob’s painfully insubordinate outburst with surprising grace. In fact, it just made the man smile.

“You got something against exercise, L-T-Z?” he chuckled.

The Gunney turned his back on Jakob and Redsont, ignoring them as he paced down the center of the mess hall. “Ain’t you pansies done with those push-ups yet? This should be no sweat for you; I thought you were all bad-ass “heros” or something. HURRY IT UP and get in line outside. We’ve got work to do and you’re wasting daylight!”

[Jakob]

Jakob chuckled at the mention of his nick name. He always had liked the way it sounded. He shrugged and looked to the sergeant who was walking outside.
"See you out there Drill Instructor Malone." He quickly rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck and looked to the laughing corporal. Giving him a slight kick, more like a nudge with his foot in order to get him out of his fit. After that, he dropped to the ground, on his palms and began doing the exercise.

[nex]

When the gunnery sergeant had first arrived, Crash had used the intrustion to scarf down the rest of his food, and tucked the computer tablet back into his jacket. He knew that something was soon to follow. They don't normally give troops a pep-talk, then give them another half-hour off. He hadn't even looked up from this meal when the Admiral had entered. People had to do a damn sight more to earn that kind of respect from him. He had however, understood what she and the sergeant had said. The 100-push ups were nothing, compared to what he was sure was soon to follow.

He wasn't one of the first to jump straight to it. In fact, he was one of the last, as he finished off the last morsel from his plate, and carefully laid the fork down.

Since Tribute, he'd never had much of a problem with physical exercise. The streets had been much harder than any boot camp. But as he begun, and felt the ache spread through his arms, he realised those days were farther back then he remembered, and he'd let himself get out of shape. He tried to tune out the arguments and jeering comments some of the others present made. He just wanted to get on with it, and focused purely on keeping count.

[dementedspartan]

Norgate finished the press-ups quickly enough. He then got up, shook his arms to try and get the ache out of them, and he mustered outside with a gathering crowd of Marines and Soldiers.
They were trying to form into a line, but it wasn't working too well. The DI was watching them, his face getting all the redder. Norgate then got into a line that some of the more capable Marines had formed, their backs against the side of the building. There were still several troops finishing exercises in the Mess, and more trying to get into the line outside.