"Downtime"

[Daenerys Targaryen]

When Victoria was finished with her pushups she moved utside with the final wave of marines. She was still trying extremly hard to keep the slightest chuckle on the inside. She moved toward the line which was 'cleverly' placed to the back of a building. As she finaly grouped in the line, were she was atleast safe for now, she let out a small laugh. The show those three put on in there was priceless.

[spartan129]

Corporal Giuseppe Raspallo

UNSC Training Ground, outside Mess Hall B-41

Epsion Eridani system, Planet Reach

Raspallo was among the last dozen or so to finish his pushups, but he endured through the pain. To make it worse, he lost count around the time that the Lieutenant caused a ruckus, and probably wound up doing more like a hundred and twenty-five pushups...All well, he was done now. He knew he shouldn't be thankful, and as he exited the mess hall he imagined what else they must have planned for him...

[Jakob]

Jakob finished his push ups and hopped up. Watching as the men and women milled outside, he sighed and followed them. Deciding he mind as well go with it, he walked outside. Making sure that he would not be taking the sergeant seriously.

Dmitri was one of the first to finish his push ups and jogged outside when told. He waited out there until Norgate walked out. He waited for the man to come out and he ran up next to him, pushing so that he could be shoulder to shoulder. The push got a shout of protest from the corporal who was displaced but he quickly shut up and got back in line. Dmitri gave a grin to the man next to him.

[Domoa]

After finishing the one hundred push-ups Malone had assigned, Saul left the building and lined up outside with the other soldiers. He had made sure to get out of their as soon as possible, he didn't want to have to listen to the ridiculous fight going on inside.

[Dutch]

For whatever reason, Fisher was not face-ground for his mirth. He finished his pushups before heading outside to line up for whatever was next.

[mrkaizer]

Michael sighed inwardly and sat down. Yeah, this was one of the quiet spooks. He took the fork from the tray, and poked the beige mass tentatively. “I should take a sample of this back to the lab.” he muttered to no one in particular, and put a forkful in his mouth. It wasn't that it tasted bad, it was just that it didn't taste anything at all. Michael frowned and reached for the salt and pepper shakers, giving the dish a generous drizzle of both. At least the coffee was decent. He had just started eaten when the sergeant major and his entourage burst into the room. “That's my cue.” Michael said to those around him, got up and grabbed his tray. With a polite nod to Rear Admiral Lakewood, since his hands were full and he wasn't in uniform, he made his way out of the mess hall and towards the surgeons office. The office was a small but well equipped prefab building, distinguished from other such buildings only by the sign by the door. Michael went in, and sat down by his desk to finish the meal. He'd found one positive thing with being camp surgeon, he didn't have to participate in the exercise. Though he would have to hold a lecture. He winced at the thought, remembering that he hadn't written the notes or prepared the presentation for that lecture yet.

[SuperCommando]

Once everybody got outside, the DIs helped arrange them into a long, orderly single-file line on the road, which they all then began to jog down. Gunnery Sergeant Malone, who ran up front and off to the side of the men, set the run at a decent pace.

“It’s about four klicks to the training ground, so we have a little time to kill,” he shouted back at the men. “Let’s get a cadence going! Except I am SICK of hearing the same old cadences every god-damned run. SO LET’S MAKE UP A NEW ONE! Listen up, this is how it’s gonna work: the first person in line makes up the first line of the cadence, then EVERYBODY REPEATS IT. Then the next person makes up the next line, AND EVERYBODY REPEATS IT. Simple enough for ya? I’ll start us off. Ready…

“HUP, ONE, TWO, THREE, I LOVE U-N-S-C!”

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

IMPORTANT: Make sure you remember to do two things in your next post please…

1) Describe everybody repeating the line before you

2) Make up your own line of the cadence

OPTIONAL: If you can, try to make every two lines rhyme. For example, lines 1 and 2 rhyme, lines 3 and 4 rhyme, 5 and 6… and so on.

Also, it does not matter what your order in line really is, just post whenever you can. (We will assume whoever posted first was really first in line, the second poster the second in line, ect...)

[spartan129]

Corporal Raspallo now regretted being put at the front of the line, but on the bright side, endurance and running were his second-best skill, right behind aim.

“HUP, ONE, TWO, THREE, I LOVE U-N-S-C!” he repeated, along with the rest of the line. Thinking quickly, he shouted, "U-N-S-C, WE SHALL KEEP THE COLONIES FREE!" He felt pretty stupid after saying it; it was some lame superhero line. But it was all he could come up with in the heat of the moment.

[Jakob]

Jakob quickly jumped up for a second and landed in a running stance, quickly running up behind the corporal and slowing to a jog. He listened to the sergeant give the rules and he could not really care too much. He was good at running and he could think on the fly. He rocked his shoulders as he yelled "HUP, ONE, TWO, THREE, I LOVE THE U-N-S-C! U-N-S-C, WE SHALL KEEP THE COLONIES FREE." He waited a second and yelled "FOUR, FIVE, SIX, WE WILL BREAK THE SPLIT JAWS JUST LIKE STICKS."

He shrugged, he liked it at least. He quickly got focused on running again.

[Dutch]

Fisher sighed as he began to run, he hated improv. It went down the two guys in front of him before it hit him. Brain flying as fast as it could, Fisher belted out loud and proud,

"HUP, ONE, TWO, THREE, I LOVE THE U-N-S-C, WE SHALL KEEP THE COLONIES FREE! FOUR, FIVE, SIX, WE WILL BREAK THE SPLIT JAWS JUST LIKE STICKS!" He panicked, yelling out, "SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE, THEIR BLOOD'LL FLOW JUST LIKE WINE!"

[SuperCommando]

((OOC: Before anyone else posts, make sure you read the directions and think for yourself, don't just copy what the person above you does. You personally do not repeat the whole cadence before you make your line, you describe all the men repeating just the previous line. Then you make up your own.

Shiloh got his right, but Jakob had a little brain fart. Dutch copied what Jakob did, so he messed up too. (Not to mention you both misquoted the lines anyway...) You two, please don't correct your posts, leave them as an example to the others of what not to do. And to those who post next, be careful you're doing it right! ))

[Domoa]

"SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE, THEIR BLOOD'LL FLOW JUST LIKE WINE!"

Saul had been jogging and not paying attention when it was his turn to say something, there was an awkaward silence before he thought of a new line.

"TEN, ELEVEN, TWELVE, THEY WONT BE ABLE TO SAVE THEMSELVES!"

[SuperCommando]

“DAMN am I glad you people decided to join the military!” GySgt. Malone called out to the jogging men. “If any of you had become singers instead, we wouldn’t NEED the Covenant’s help to destroy humanity!”

Soon, the line of troops were led off the road and onto a huge grassy field, where large, long obstacle courses could be seen ahead.

“LISTEN UP!” Malone shouted. “We are now approaching three sets of obstacle courses. These are no boot camp milk runs either, each of these courses are a real bitch! I’ve heard that ONI trained SPARTAN-II super soldiers on these things once, but of course that’s just a rumor.”

Whether or not the drill instructor was merely kidding was hard to tell. The three side-by-side courses were all quite long and featured many tall or bizarre structures to the point of being ridiculous. It was apparent that the mens’ athletic ability was about to be tested to the extreme.

“You will note…” the Gunney continued. “…that underneath the courses are several pools of water. Should you fall or be knocked off the course, you will fall safely into the water AND WE WILL ALL LAUGH AT YOU. You only have one attempt to make it though one course of your choosing, so if you fail, report to the end and wait for everyone to be done. When everyone is done, remain at the end of the courses and await further orders. Now, when I say go, you will all run to one of the three courses. Don’t bother waiting in line, just go. Work together or alone, I don’t care, just get to the other side. First two people done get something special. Ready? Now GO!!!”

--------

IMPORTANT: Read the RP Lessons in the OOC thread, especially #4. This way I know you’re following the last lesson by checking both threads. If you are still not sure what to do, be sure to ask.

[nex]

This had been the part of the course Crash been looking forward to. He stretched, trying to get the last aches out his legs, thinking back to the streets of Tribute; jumping from rooftop to rooftop, trying to escape the local militia, some stolen wares clutched tightly in a rucksack.
Good Times, he mused thoughtfully.

He eyed up the course in front of him. It ran back and forth a few times, doubling back on itself as it climbed and fell. It was certainly not a straight run, and it split off several times into dead ends.

He took a deep breath, and ran at the nearest obstacle course. Rather than trying to scale the wooden plank wall in a conventional manner, he used his momentum to run halfway up it, before turning his body around and jumping out towards a single support pole that belonged to a different part of the course. He grabbed it, and wrapped his legs firmly around it, and began to climb upwards. He finally ducked under a guide rail near the top. Gazing down, he realised that he'd effectively cut a large portion of the the course, and now found himself near the top level, the ground almost distant to him.

The path in front of him however, dead-ended. He, however, didn't always follow the right path. He ran, and leapt.

[spartan129]

"Staff Sergeant!" cried Raspallo, rushing to the tank commander, "I personally don't feel like getting my feet wet, and we'll get through this more quickly together. Agreed?" Waiting for the man's response, the Corporal glanced at the courses, deciding that the one to the far left seemed like it would be the hardest but also shortest. He raised his hand to begin to point at it once he heard the voice of the Staff Sergeant.

[Deleted]

Redsont had done as he was told, simply not caring for the drill sergeant's speech. He went to the third obstacle course and grabbed the rope that coiled around the ground. Redsont then took the rope in both hands and planted both his feet against the wall and began slowly walking up the wall while pulling the rope with all his strength. In a little over a minute, Redsont had reached the top and pulled himself to the top of the wall. After a quick thirty second breather, Redsont grabbed the rope on the other side of the wall and jumped of the wall. With a less than graceful slide down, Redsont landed on his feet and continued through the obstacle course.

[Jakob]

Jakob sighed and ran full speed, he sprinted towards a large wooden wall and gleefully climbed on top of it. He scrambled up and suddenly felt his arm start to cramp.
"Not now damn it, not now..." he though as his arm began to give way. He slowly raised the cramped arm and reached for the top of the wall. He ruefully held on and tried to let go with his other hand to finish the maneuver when he felt his cramped arm give way.

His foot which was planted on the wall instinctively tightened as he fell off, launching him back. He turned in mid air and screamed curses while he fell, trying to aim for the water. With his luck though, it did not happen. The upper half of his body hit the outside of the pool, his rib cage taking the impact as he heard two of his ribs snap. He coughed and lost all of his air. He tried his best to ignore the pain and drag himself onto high ground but ultimately failed as he slid into the water.

[Dutch]

Doing as instructed, Fisher watched his Lieutenant plunged from the high wall and into the muddy pool of water. Laughing with the rest of the men, Fisher soon realized it was his turn to go. Oh goody. Licking his lips, he analyzed each course before choosing on number two, the one chosen by the ill-fated Lieutenant. Fisher charged at the wall, giving his LT a good natured grin as he jumped at the wall and quickly began scaling his way up.

It was a short enough climb, Fisher reached the top and surveyed what was before him. he sighed as he sighted the twisted, hellish maze of pipes before him.

"The plumber's nightmare, damn." His old nemesis, brutally designed to thoroughly exercise every part of a man's body. With nothing more than another sigh, he jumped on the rope connecting to the wall to the pipes and began pulling himself across the large pool of water below.

He finally reached the pipes and, with a wince, stuffed himself in and began to the squirm. He had found the path through, more or less, he hoped anyway. After a long ordeal with at least half a dozen near-accidents, he piled out of the end, gasping. Every muscle everywhere burned, he just lay on the platform for a while, breathing heavily, before he jumped to his feet and shoved his exhaustion aside and kept going.

[spartan129]

With the Staff Sergeant seemingly at a loss for words or action with the task before them and with a lack of knowing anyone else, Raspallo darted towards a barbed wire ladder that started off the first course. Although he covered his hands with his uniform, the Corporal winced as the barbs dug into his skin. His hands growing warm with blood, Raspallo climbed to the top of the ladder. Upon reaching the top platform, he realized that he'd have to jump to the next platform, which was several yards away. This seemed to be a theme that was followed throughout the course. Stepping back and taking a deep breath, Raspallo ran...and jumped.

[mrkaizer]

Michael looked up from the screen of his office computer as a duo of corpsmen came through the door to the infirmary carrying a stretcher between them. By their apparent lack of urgency, he surmised it wasn't anything serious. He looked up at the corpsman in front, and raised an eyebrow. The large, red haired Irishman who had pulled the lieutenant sputtering and cursing from the muddy water looked like he was barely able to contain his laughter.
“The lieutenant here took a dive off the wall on the obstacle course.” he said in his thick brogue. Michael motioned to the examination table, and got up from his desk.
“Did he now? Thought this was a diving competition lieutenant? By the look of it, the dive wasn't very successful?” The two corpsmen gently laid the lieutenant on the examination table.
“No sir, the judges weren't impressed. Seems he even missed the pool.” The corpsman, through visible effort, continued in a more serious tone.
“Think he's cracked a few ribs. I put the collar on him just in case, but I doubt there are any neck injuries. GCS 15, no suspected LOC, pupils equal and reactive. Oh, and a quite impressive vocabulary when it comes to profanities, if I may say.” The last bit was high praise coming from the corpsman, who was widely believed to have the ability to write an entire book using nothing but profanities, and never once repeat himself.
“Very good boys, dismissed.” Michael said, and walked to the head end of the examination table. He took the stethoscope from around his neck, and gently put it on the lieutenants chest. “Breath normally please.” he said and moved the instrument around, listening for signs that the lungs were damaged. Satisfied that there weren't any such signs, he grabbed the datapad from the bed, and hit combination of buttons on it. “Now lieutenant, please lie perfectly still. I'm going to scan you.” At the foot end of the bed an arc appeared that straddled the width of the table. With a whine of electric motors it started to slowly make its way towards the head end of the table. While the scan was going, Michael called up the marine's medical record, his eyes narrowing as he scrolled through the considerable list. “My my lieutenant, it seems you are one of our frequent fliers. You'll be pleased to know that upon your next visit you'll receive a complementary organ of your choice.” Michael look up from the pad with a grin.

[Jakob]

Jakob coughed a bit and tried to sit up, his flaring sides instantly making him regret it while he tried his best to ignore the pain.
"Yeah yeah, fuck you too doc." He mumbled as he tried his best not to look like he was in any pain.

[mrkaizer]

Michael just chuckled at the marine's continued cursing and apparent attempt at hiding the level of pain he was in, and looked at the datapad. Scrolling through the different scans he ruled out organ and spinal injury. The holopad besides the bed sputtered to life, displaying a life size scan of the lieutenant's skeleton. The holo zoomed and enlarged the ribs, two on the right side obviously broken. The holo zoomed in further to show only the two broken ribs, and started to slowly rotate. Michael leaned over to Jakob and removed the stiff collar the corpsman had put on.

“Now there's your problem.” Michael said cheerfully and pointed to the holo. “Fracture of the 7th and 8th ribs, right hand side. Uncomplicated fractures really. I can have them mended in...” he checked his watch “oh about 45 minutes. Take of your shirt please.”

Michael got up and walked to the laboratory section of the infirmary. He came back with one pneumatic injector, one small syringe with needle filled with a clear liquid, one larger metal syringe with a slightly larger needle, and a tray of various surgical tools. He sat down on a stool on the lieutenant's right hand side, and helped him off with the undershirt.

“Right. What we're going to do now, is inject some bone-knitting polymer into the fractures in your ribs.” His tone had changed to professional, confident and reassuring, from the joking tone he'd had earlier.
“It's basically bone glue. With time your body will replace it with normal bone. That will take about a month or two. Until then these ribs will be a little bit weaker then the rest I'm afraid, so do try and be gentle with them.”

He took the pneumatic injector from the tray.
“This is a small dose of polypseudomorphine. It'll take the edge off the pain.”
Without further warning he held the injector to Jakob's upper arm, and pulled the trigger. A slight hiss told that the drug had been injected. The 2 milligrams were enough to take the worst edge off the pain, and relax the patient.

While the drug took effect, Michael put on a pair of latex gloves, and picked up the small syringe. He held it up and displayed it to Jakob.
“This synthocaine, it will numb the tissue where I'm going to make a small incision. You won't feel the cut, but I have to insert a small instrument to hold the ribs in place while I inject the polymer. That will hurt a bit, but the morphine should take care of the worst of it.”

With efficiency stemming from years of experience he swabbed the incision site with antiseptics, and injected the first dose of the synthocaine. He made three injections over each of the two broken ribs, just under the skin. After about thirty seconds he made three more over each, but this time sinking the needle deeper before injecting, to insure that the tissue was completely numb. Having done that he typed a series of commands into the bedside datapad. The arc came up again, and settled over Jakob's 8th rib. The screen now showed a live image of the bone in question, and the lights above intensified then focused on the area the surgeon was about to operate on

“Now Jakob” Michael said in his most soothing and reassuring voice, “I'm about to make the first incision. I suggest you look away, just so you don't flinch. Don't worry, you won't feel a thing.”
From the tray Michael selected a small scalpel with a monomolecular blade, and made a 1 cm cut about the fracture. Putting the scalped down he picked up the metal syringe and picked up a laparoscopic tool with a tiny grabber on the end.

“Now this will hurt a little, but try to stay still, alright?” he said without taking his eyes away from what he was doing. Using the laparoscopic manipulator he pulled the ribs together using the live x-ray as a guide, and injected the polymer. Satisfied with the placement the took a small laser from the tray, and cauterized the tiny incision. He repeated the process on the 7th rib.

“All done.” Michael said with a smile, and threw the gloves in a waste bin beside the bed. The whole procedure had taken just under 15 minutes.
“However,” he said with obvious mock disappointment in his voice, “there won't be any scars I'm afraid. You'll just have to find some other way to impress the ladies.” He smiled and winked. “Now we just have to wait 30 minutes for that polymer to fully harden, then you can be on your way to new adventures! Hmm, I think I have some special medication for just this sort of occasion...” His voice trailed off, and he got up and walked to the lab.

From one of the storage closets he pulled out a sealed case. It was a metal case with a code lock on it, marked with large, red BIOHAZARD labels. He entered a six digit code, and the lid opened. Inside was pollster holes for 12 large bottles. There were 8 in the case. Michael frowned at the low number of bottles, and made a mental note to restock before he was reassigned. He gently removed one of them, and found two glasses, which he filled with 4 cl each of the amber liquid.

Coming back to the treatment room, he handed one of the glasses to Jakob, and took a seat on the stool again.
“24 year old, single malt whiskey. Proper whiskey from Scotland, on Earth mind you. Cheers!” He took a small sip, and felt the warm, burning sensation as the amber liquid slithered gracefully down his throat. He had found that even the most zealous military police flinched at inspecting containers marked with BIOHAZARD stickers. And besides, they were much more concerned with him smuggling things out of the infirmary then in.

Michael let out a long and satisfied sigh, and fished a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his lab coat. He took one out and lit it. Suddenly remembering the smoke alarms, he opened the window next to the examination table, then sat back down and looked at Jakob.

“So lieutenant, judging by your medical record, you've seen quite a lot of action?” he asked, and took another small sip from his whiskey.

[Jakob]

Jakob took a large gulp of the drink. The alcohol burning his throat which caused him to wince slightly. He coughed a tad and then took another sip, he looked up when the doctor spoke. He said it as if it was a question but the answer was obvious to the both of them. Jakob shrugged and looked up, giving a somber look.

"I do my job and I do it well, some times it gets me hurt and some times it gets me in places that can land me in a prison." He shrugged again and took another chug of the drink. Drowning some of his sorrow.

[Martial Virtue]

Captains Dylan and Sierra Lloyd

Usually, Captain Sierra Lloyd found herself in charge of training – that or her XO, if she was otherwise occupied with some of the greater concerns of leading and managing a company of one hundred fifty Marines in the UNSC’s infantry. Now, the tables were turned, and she was starting to feel the burn.

It’s not that she hadn’t always made sure to keep up with PT herself whenever she was on base or, more rarely, at home. But having to do a grueling unexpected regimen of push-ups, a short run, and a long obstacle course right after a meal wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. Still, she’d seen and done worse when she’d attended OCS nine years ago. Her career in the field hadn't been any nicer to her, either.

Think of it as just another garrison workout, she told herself as stood in line with other Marines and Troopers, waiting for her turn on the course. And try not to look like an idiot and puke on yourself.

Her stomach grumbled. That bad mess hall food wasn’t sitting well with her.

Someone prodded her in the back then and she turned around. “What?” she asked mildly.

The ODST captain behind her flashed a small smirk. “Gunny said we could team up for this event if we wanted to. You game?”

Sierra pretended to furrow her brows. “Hmm. And get through the course extra quick?”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Dylan’s expression darkened a little and the slight smile left his face. “Can’t be anything worse than what the Innies put me through in that dump.”

Sierra frowned but didn’t reply. There was still a lot about her husband’s experiences as a POW that he hadn’t told her about, and she understood why. It was harder to learn to accept the changes in him that they’d caused. “Then let’s get ready, D. We’re up next.”

Captain Lloyd and Captain Lloyd, for the win, she thought, amused.

When the Marine corporal in front of her had scrambled up the first obstacle – a hideous-looking barbed wire ladder – Sierra took in a deep breath and started in on it herself. Being lighter in weight than the men around her, she was able to get up past the barbs quickly and without hurting her hands too much. She paused for a moment to look at them as she neared the top; they were red and scratched but not bleeding. Behind her, though, she heard Dylan let out a muffled grunt.

“Goddamn barbs…”

In any other circumstance, Sierra would have probably chuckled and uttered some overused maxim like, “No pain, no gain”, but with Dylan that didn’t seem appropriate anymore. He’d gone through more than enough in his time as a prisoner of the Innies, and she didn’t want to bring those memories back for him. She settled for a terse, “Keep going!” instead.

Once at the top, she stopped and waited for her Helljumper husband to clamber up to the platform beside her before moving on. They gave each other a quick glance, and Sierra raised an eyebrow at him. “Ideas?”

Dylan nodded, breathing just a little harder than he had been at the bottom. “Yeah. Back up, sprint for the edge, and jump.”

Clearing the platforms behind the corporal was easy. It was the next obstacle, however, that looked to be a tough one – rappelling back down to the ground to go through a long set of monkey bars over a deep pool of brown water.

The Marine captain smiled to herself as she moved. This was what she’d joined the Corps for.

[spartan129]

Raspallo had finally reached the last platform, and there were two Officers behind him. He could see that he had to rappel down, and then cross a set of monkey bars. Grinning, he remembered the last battle he had participated in. From the balcony of a many-storied hotel at a vacation spot, he and Lance Corporal McAbee had provided important support. When their position was compromised, however, they had to use emergency gear to rappel back to the ground.

The young Corporal clipped onto the rail they were to rappel from, climbed over, and jumped back.

Bouncing against the walls every several yards, it took Raspallo mere seconds to reach the ground. Turning, he looked at the monkey bars across the water. This shouldn't be too hard, but Raspallo had never had a lot of upper body strength. Sighing, he ran to the monkey bars and jumped to the first bar. Gripping it tightly in one hand, his left missed and fell limply to his side. As a tall man, the Corporal's boots were brushing the water-ice cold water.

Taking a deep breath, Raspallo swung forward with all of his might and gripped the second bar with his left hand. He wouldn't be particularly fast at this section, but he had been the first to get on this course and no one could get pass him on the monkey bars. As he swung slowly from one bar to the other, he looked ahead. As soon as he touched town on a precariously floating dock, he would sprint about a hundred yards to another wall. This one, it seemed, he would have to climb without a ladder or rope.

Not daring to think about what lay at the end of the dock but remembering getting above average scores on speed and endurance back in Basic, Raspallo tried to speed up on the bars. He knew it wouldn't be long before he heard the officers jump on behind him. He only had four bars left to clear...three...On the second to last bar, he swung forward powerfully and landed somewhat hardly, but still on both his feet. Taking a split second to catch his breath, Raspallo began sprinting forward.

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

Staff Sergeant Wolfe was one of the last to make it to a course. He had always placed his priorities on strength, firepower, and tactics, not petty things like running. That was a coward's job. The army-hardened man chose to take the path that was a short wall with a rope to assist in climbing. He figured that it would become harder later on, but at the moment it seemed much more inviting than the massive wall and the...he shuddered. Why any of those foolhardy Marines would choose to climb a barbed wire ladder he didn't know, but before he could dwell on it any longer he gripped the rope of the wall. Climbing it was easy, especially since he had a wall to assist him. Once he reached the top, he jumped over towards the other side-and instantly regretted it.

The wall that had been short on the climbing side was much taller on this side; the ground didn't come until Wolfe landed hard on it. He could hear something crunch and felt pain everywhere, but he forced himself up. The rest of the course didn't look like it would be merciful either; but Wolfe never gave up.

[Martial Virtue]

Captain Dylan Lloyd reached the monkey bars alongside his wife and darted across fast, taking the bars two at a time. Though his body had been injured and weakened from his time in captivity, he was a few months removed from that ordeal now. He’d gotten back in good shape if not quite as much as he had been before, and having some leave at home with his family recently had helped with his mental state. There was a long way to go still for the ODST captain to readjust back to normal life, but he’d made good progress so far. This test at the obstacle course also gave him an outlet for some of his pent-up aggression – for the first time since leave, he could say he was genuinely enjoying himself.

Before long he found himself just behind the corporal on the landing platform, but he had to wait for Sierra. He glanced ahead to check out the next obstacle and then turned back to his Marine wife, still making her way quickly but a little slower than him across the bars, taking them one at a time. In the meantime he saw the corporal sprint forward, but the wall coming up looked to be much taller than most. Dylan was sure he and Sierra could make up some time there and still try to catch up; that was where their partnership was going to come in handy.

Once Sierra landed breathlessly beside him, she said, “Let’s move!”

Dylan didn’t need to be told twice as they both began sprinting across the ground themselves, hoping to eventually pass up the corporal. In a few seconds they were at the wall. “Hurry, go!” he said, almost out of breath as he lowered himself a bit and interlocked his fingers to form a step for Sierra. “I’ll boost you up!”

Sierra nodded and, bracing herself with one hand on his shoulder and one on the wall, stepped up on Dylan’s hands. He pushed her up quickly with little effort until she was able to get herself over the top of the wall and jump down on the other side, straight into a mud pit. He smiled a little when he heard her groan in disgust but didn’t dawdle. As soon as she was up and over he took a few steps back and ran at the wall himself, taking two steps up it and using his strong arm muscles and long reach to grab onto the top and pull himself up. He was over in seconds and then slithering in the muck underneath even more barbed wire just behind Sierra – a low crisscross of it, designed to get you on your stomach and stay there. The only thing that would’ve made it more of a rush would have been live fire piercing the air above them, but so far it didn’t come.

That didn’t mean the course was done yet, though. Coming up was a balancing obstacle – two long ropes set parallel to the ground, one to walk on and one to grab onto to get across. As always, the fate that awaited anyone not up to the challenge was a cold bath in murky liquid several feet below.

Which might even be welcome after crawling around in the mud, the Helljumper thought to himself. But he was competitive, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to lose. Somehow he had to make sure he and Sierra were the ones to finish first.

[spartan129]

Raspallo didn't know when the officers passed him. He was pretty sure he had made it to the wall first-but they certainly made it up first. Two people could make it over far more easily than one, and Raspallo knew this well. He fell at least twice before making it up-jumping and trying to scramble over was all he could do.

When he finally made it over, the two officers had already passed the next obstacle-crawling through mud under low barbed wire. Damn, whoever made this course really loved barbed wire...But ahead was the last obstacle. A pair of long ropes, which the officers were starting on, lay ahead. Raspallo had engineered an obstacle like that as a teen, simply for fun. He dropped to the ground and forced himself under the barbed wire. Here was an advantage to being thin...Looking ahead at the officers, he began to feel a sinking sensation in his heart. He knew he wouldn't have a problem doing the ropes, he had spent a summer on a pair longer than them, but he wouldn't be able to pass them. He had lost his last chance at winning. He could only hope that one or both of them would fall...

Once his torso was out from under the barbed wire, he pushed forward and up, slightly scratching the backs of his shins on the barbed wire. He ran to the rope. He had no chance of winning-unless he played dirty. If he shook the ropes, one of the officers might fall in. The Corporal's head began racing as he got onto the rope, considering the clever but unsportsmanlike option he had before him.

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

Wolfe dragged his leg forward as he limped to the next obstacle. Of course, it involved jumping to and from narrow poles sticking out of the water. He attempted the first one-and all of a sudden was very cold. He didn't know what was going on, but he thought he was slowly fading out of consciousness...

[Martial Virtue]

With the front of her BDU shirt and pants smeared with mud, Sierra made quickly for the one of the last obstacles of the course; she could see the end now, just beyond the ropes and another long sprint to the finish. When she pulled herself up from the wet ground, Dylan was right behind her. She stole a glance back. They’d managed to pass the corporal after he’d struggled a bit over the wall, and they were now well on their way to reaching the finish line first.

Just one last thing to go, she thought. It’d be nice to win the event, if nothing else because as fairly senior officers, Dylan and Sierra were expected to be the example to the others and excel. They’d made good time so far, but that wouldn’t mean much if someone else made it faster.

Wasting no time, she grabbed hold of the thick top rope and gripped it tight as she started across the narrower rope underneath her boots - it had been designed that way to make it hard to hold onto and difficult to balance on top of. Sierra snorted as she inwardly cursed the son of a bitch who’d made the obstacle, then decided she’d replicate it during training for her own company – just to keep her Marines on their toes. She kept up a steady pace all the way through until she finally touched down on the other side. When she looked, Dylan was already about a quarter of the way through himself. At the halfway mark, she noticed the corporal reach the beginning of the obstacle, too.

Then she saw him grip the rope.

One of the other ingenious features of the final obstacle was that it was right after the mud pit, making it hard to get good traction on the bottom rope with muddy boots. Sierra had made it through because she tried to be more cautious than quick with her movements, but Dylan, spurred on no doubt by the fast approach of the corporal, was moving much faster. He was already nearing the platform.

In the end, she wasn’t sure if it was the corporal’s innocent-looking maneuver – from the angle, she couldn’t tell if he’d done it by mistake or on purpose – or Dylan’s mud-caked boots that had done it, but suddenly she watched as he slipped on one of his final steps. Dylan let out a surprised gasp as he lost his footing, held on tight to the top rope to try to get back on, then slipped again and dropped into the water.

“Dylan!”

Sierra didn’t care so much about their assured loss of the competition now – making sure Dylan was okay was what mattered. She jumped off the platform where she’d been waiting for him to finish and ran down to the water’s edge to help him. Dylan broke through the surface soaking wet and sputtering, and he pounded his fist into the water, clearly upset. Sierra let out a sigh of relief, knowing that despite the bad mood the fall had put him in, at least she knew he was fine.

“Told you not to get too cocky,” she said to him as she walked up, extending her hand above the pool of brown-gray water to help him out. “You know that kid’s good as gone now. We’re out of the race.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Dylan accepted her hand and trudged out back onto the ground, then bent over to cough more water out of his lungs. “Anyway, it wasn’t me,” he added once he’d recovered. “The guy warped the rope and I lost my grip.”

“Guess he really wanted to win,” Sierra quipped with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood, but Dylan was still furious. There was obvious heat in his next words.

“It’s not fair, Sierra. I’m giving him a good reprimand once he gets his scrawny ass to the end, just you wait.” Dylan set his jaw and started marching towards the end of the field, trailing water and mud all the way. He only stopped when Sierra got in front of him and pressed a hand to his chest.

“Dylan, this isn’t a fight. You need to calm down and think about what you’re doing. This is just a training session to get the men moving and to have a little fun and friendly competition. Don’t ruin it by punching the lights out of some poor kid for besting you. Unfairly, yes, but when has war ever been fair? We have to be ready for anything at all times – that’s why we train – and you weren’t. Let me go talk to him.”

Sierra didn’t like the way Dylan stared her down for a moment, but she knew when he relaxed his tense stance a bit that he was going to relent.

Finally, he let out a sigh and ran a hand through his short, soaked hair. “Okay. For you, I’ll let it go.” To her surprise, Sierra even saw his expression break into a small grin after a while. “But I definitely want to see him get the full wrath of one of your lectures.”

[spartan129]

Raspallo glanced at the officer who had fallen off of the rope, the male one. He glanced back at the rope, and realized he had shook it. He had considered the possibility that he had a chance to win, and took that chance without thinking. He shot the two of them an apologetic look (He hadn't really planned on doing that), but other soldiers and Marines were getting closer. The Corporal grabbed the rope and sidestepped across, hoping that the person behind him wouldn't do the same thing he had done.

Raspallo tightened his grip on that thought, and stopped for a moment to glance back. The next person was only under the barbed wire, but he knew it wouldn't be that way for long. He sped up on the rope, nearly slipping in one place, and made it to the other side. He began sprinting, knowing that with his luck someone would have just finished a different course.

[nex]

As Crash flew through the air, his hands outstretched in front of him grasped the rough fibers of the rope in front of him. His momentum pushed him into it as his fingers tightened their hold, feeling the burn that came as they slid a little. He felt his body sway to and throw, as he now hung from the next part of the course; a rope swing. But, as he'd strayed above the course earlier, he now was too high up on the rope to swing to the next. Instead, he interlocked his legs firmly around it, and hand over hand, worked his way up to the thick wooden beam it hung from. He wrapped his arms round it, before transferring his legs. He then tried several times to swing himself right way up, before he ended up astride the pole, balancing somewhat precariously.

He looked up, working his way ahead. The rope swings led to a platform, followed by a set of monkey bars. If he was lucky, he might be able to climb on top of the monkey bars, and run straight across it.

He tried to push himself up, but he his feet slid off the pole. He grabbed against it tighter, worried about the long drop to the murky pool below. He tried again, this time managing to balance. Not pausing to consider if this was wise, he ran along the narrow pole, drawing on past experience that speed would keep him balanced. He leapt off the end of the pole, over the platform below him, and onto the top of the monkey bars. If he stopped now, he'd fall. That much he realised. And whilst it was a much shorter fall than what used to be at stake, he wasn't willing to risk it.

Luckily the next obstacle was a large cargo net to climb. His momentum carried him into it with some force, but his hands were quick to find foot holds, and he quickly scampered up to the next platform. He was expect to rappel down, before jumping between standing poles, to the end of the course.

Gripping the rope loosely in one hand, he raced down the sharp incline, bounding from one stepping stone to the next with surprising ease. He was shocked when his foot at last touched solid ground.

That was it? He mused thoughtfully to himself. He was slightly out of breath, but he put that down to the jog down here. Compared to some of the places he used to hang out, the course was tame by comparison.

He glanced round to see who else had finished