UNSC Resolute
an excerpt

[i]Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck![/i]
Captain Andrew Stark wasted none of his breath on cursing aloud, as he ran the length of the deck from his quarters to the stairs, eschewing the lifts for what he believed was the faster route between decks. He could hear First Ensign Brendan Mathers right behind him, just a few paces back – there were multiple reasons why he’d picked the young man for his position, and his performance as a soldier was certainly high on that list.
The Resolute’s captain skidded around the doorframe that led onto the command bridge, barely noticing the instinctual shout of “Captain on Deck!” uttered by Lawrence Hicks, as he waved off any salutes… Knowing he didn’t need to because of how well his crew knew him, knowing that they wouldn’t bother with anything more than a moment’s rise from their stations to acknowledge his presence.
Emerald eyes snapped to the Resolute’s Second Ensign, Dean Maylor.
“Report!”
Ensign Dean Maylor let his salute fall, looking completely overtaken by the situation and unsure of what to say.
"Captain... I um..." Ensign Maylor stammered, looking around for something, anything to help him out.
Brendan finished zipping up his jumpsuit as he grabbed his datapad, forcing a download off of Marley's console station.
[i]If anyone knows what the [b]fuck[/b] is going on, it's her![/i] Brendan thought, looking it over.
"Captain, I-"
"Captain! It seems our proximity alarms were set off by Covenant vessels blowing past us before entering Slipspace!" Brendan barked out, handing the datapad over to Stark for his perusal.
Copper eyes fell on Maylor as Brendan shook his head.
[i]Probably asleep on the job again...[/i]
The curses that escaped Stark as he read over the reports were altogether both scathing and creative – a herald back to the Captain’s rather… base upbringings.
“Fuck my ass and call me a bitch,” He cursed at last. “Must’ve been in a hell of a hurry if they missed us like that! Hicks, where-“
“Already ten steps ahead of you, Captain!” Hicks snapped back, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he worked hard at his console.
“Mathers, Maylor, I want all hands combat ready!” The captain snapped – best not to hurry his Slipspace engineer too much. “Issue orders that all civilian personnel are to immediately return to their quarters; they are NOT to leave them unless they are ordered sequestered in their deck’s safe rooms!”
“Captain,” Lieutenant Junior Grade Kyle Nelson called out. “MAC cannons are online and ready to be primed at a moment’s notice!”
“Good!” Stark’s eyes narrowed as he set the datapad aside, his own fingers dancing over his console after a moment or so, keying in the overrides and commands that brought the UNSC’s finest vessel to her full, combat readiness. Everyone knew what it meant, for a Covenant vessel to pass up the prime target that was the UNSC Resolute…
… It meant that they had a suitable target in mind, and that generally meant that another civilian colony was under attack.
Brendan got to his console, tapping in key commands and codes for the ship to come to readiness as soon as possible. Maylor however seemed to be taking his time with his duties.
Brendan growled softly before keying into the P.A. system for the civilian decks. It was Maylor's job but right now, there wasn't room of pettiness.
This needed to be done and now.
"Attention Resolute civilians! At this time you are ordered to return to your quarters! As soon as you are in your quarters and all residents of your quarters accounted for you are ordered to lock down your quarters and stay put unless directly ordered otherwise! I repeat-" Brendan continued on with the civilian orders, watching Maylor out of the corner of his eye.
He knew that Maylor should have been ordering all hands, but it seemed that Maylor was busy doing something else.
"All hands report to battle stations immediately!" Marley called over the regular P.A. systems.
"Prepare for possible boarding attempts and immediate drop protocols! Repeat! All hands report to battle stations immediately!"
"Captain! We're getting a scrambled station distress signal!" Lieutenant Derrick Rolands called, keying it in over to the Captain's station immediately.
"Captain, the signal cuts out at forty three seconds into the message and doesn't loop..."
“Get me a trace on that-“
“No need, Captain!” Hicks called out. “I’ve got that Covie ship’s Slipspace signature, point of termination is Vesperus!”
“Get us there, goddamnitt!” Stark snapped aloud, as he slammed himself into his station’s chair. “Slipspace authorization granted – Commanding Officer: Stark, Andrew!”
“Aye-aye, Captain!” Hicks responded tersely.
“Mathers! I want those ODSTs ready to drop on the fly as soon as we come out of Slipspace! Maylor, get the Marines and the Pelicans ready to haul some ass to that orbital station to rescue any survivors, and as soon as we drop out of Slipspace, I want word sent to Fleetcomm that Vesperus is under attack, UNSC Resolute commands immediate reinforcement from any nearby UNSC vessels!”
"Yes, Captain!" Mathers and Maylor shouted in unison, both men spurred on to do that job that they had to do.
Both men immediately began barking out orders for the armed forces on the ship to get ready and moving.
"Captain! Weapons locked down and ready for immediate fire out of Slipspace!" Marley yelled, fingers still flying over the console before her.

All over the ship, units of ground and air forces launched out of their beds and began racing for clothing and equipment, preparing for the battle that was to come.
In the Hellions’ barracks, Lieutenant Cayde was barking out orders echoed and reinforced by his ACO and Adjutant, ordering his ODSTs to drop their cocks and grab their socks so to speak, and get their asses in gear.
“Sonuvabitch, Ah wuz havin’ a nice fuckin’ evenin’ too!” Cayde raged, as he quickly worked at changing from shipside BDUs to his combat fatigues. Anyone watching the blond, under normal circumstances, might have wolf whistled, or at least complimented his physique, but there was no time for that now.
“Dear all Covie motherfuckers!” Rodriguez half-shouted, half-intoned with a faint smirk.
“Please to not be fucking up our evenings!” Bobby shouted from nearby. A few of the unit’s newer members paused, for a moment, listening to the exchange.
“We too need our time to eat, sleep, and fuck, same as you twisted alien motherfucks!” Damien raged, as he yanked Memento Mori’s case from beneath his bunk.
“We regret to inform you that for this rude as fuck interruption of our schedule!” The twins, Curtis and Carson, intoned in unison.
“We’s gonna hafta blast th’ shit outta all you cocksuckers!”
“Love the 94th Hellions, BITCHES!” The last bit of that little joking, rallying cry was shouted out by Cayde, Erickson, Reaper, and Rodriguez.
“That shit never gets old…” Bobby breathed.
The unit began falling in and getting ready for the combat ahead.
Fresh BDU's? Check.
Full up rucksack? Check.
Boots with nylon under socks? Check.
Two pairs of underwear on? Check.
Full water backpack? Check.
Rations? Check.
Canteens? Check.
Suppliments? Check.
Primary weapons with back up, ammo and extra ammo? Check and double check.
Everyone checked and double checked their packs making sure that everythings was in proper order.
Welsley had flickered and then quickly disappeared from the Hellions' Barracks to start the initial S.O.I.E.V. checks.
The commontion was almost broken by the sound of an angry foot nearly kicking the barrack's door off the hinges as Adrian came storming in. The commotion was so loud, in fact, that several members of the unit nearly jumped out of their skin at the sight.
Ice blue eyes were as cold as the artic ocean's bottom as Adrian moved into the barracks, swift and deadly as he went over to start his preparations.
He was angry, angrier than anyone in the unit had ever seen him before and everything about his mannerisms betrayed that he was not to be fucked with.
Not now.
Cayde took one glance at the red-head who came stalking into his barracks, but didn’t say a word as the man started getting ready. Whatever had crawled up the man’s ass, Cayde figured him professional enough to save that anger for the battlefield instead of the barracks, and all he cared about was that the man was getting ready.
Leo paced up and down the middle of the barracks, staying well out of the way, occasionally uttering a short bark at any Hellion he perceived to be working too slowly at getting ready.
Adrian grabbed Avenging Angel out from under his bunk, slinging the rifle up over his shoulder as he finished slinging his packs and everything together, ready for the battle ahead.
Sands laughed softly before moving over to Fii, grabbing him by the shoulder as he pulled him to face him.
"What's y-"
"Shut up! Suit up and get down to Hell!" Adrian barked, shoving Sands away from him hard. He didn't want to explode.
Not yet.
HIs anger wasn't meant for his unit mates.
No, the Covenant would get the honor of feeling his wrath and rage.
Evangeline and Juliet bumped shoulders before making their way quickly out of the barracks and down towards the launch bay.
Hell's Drop Zone, they called it affectionately.
It was standard procedure.
Get ready, get down to the drop bay, help get everything ready by checking your own first. More S.O.I.E.V.s that are checked quickly, the less time it would take for the A.I. to get it ready.
Adrian scowled before falling in next to Reaper, growling lowly not at Reaper but in general.
"Ready?"
Reaper glanced to him; the mirror visor of his helmet upraised. Yellow eyes swept over Adrian; battle-hungry, bloodthirsty.
“Ready to hit this battlefield like the fist of a motherfuckin’ angry god.” He hissed back, bumping his shoulder against Adrian’s as he resettled Memento Mori over his shoulder.
As the Hellions passed, a slender figure watched from just down one of the hallways, crimson eyes longing, hungry… The Master Chief clung to a doorframe, his gaze set on Adrian as he watched the man pass.
Adrian nudged Damien back, it was hard but not less playful and friendly like all of their rough housing was.
Blue eyes found crimson and a low, hungry growl escaped Adrian before he looked back at his brother.
"You have no idea... Let's go." Adrian nudged Damien once more before making his way out of the barracks. He only lingered for a second, smiling brightly at the Chief before he made his way down towards the drop bay with the others.

"No! No, no, no!" Welsley shouted, waving iridescent, semi-transparent arms in the air as he fussed at the S.O.I.E.V. technicians swarming the Hellion’s HEVs.
"Leave those S.O.I.E.V.s alone, now!" Welsley cried, moving around the Hellions' S.O.I.E.V.s as he ran his diagnostics of each one.
It was completely unnecessary but something Welsley had affected in order to make himself seem more human.
"I've got them! Go fuck with another unit's drop pods!"
The technicians collectively muttered a few choice words about the audacity of the A.I., but none were too keen on questioning it and wasting precious time. Welsley was left to his own devices with the Hellion’s S.O.I.E.V.s
Lieutenant Cayde headed the pack of Hellions, as they reached the drop bay, and immediately shouldered past another, slightly taller ODST commander, whose name he didn’t care to remember.
“Git out th’ way, primary unit’s got priority!” He snapped gruffly.
Adrian followed at the lead of the pack, following aside Reaper as they walked. The whole of the unit was in perfect step, every Hellion in line and dressed to perfection.
A pure unit of well oiled, well times killing machines and damned if they weren't ready to prove their stuff.
It was the first real combat that the unit as a whole was going to have and the new members of the unit were itching to show their stuff.
Adrian snickered softly, eyes flicking to watch Damien for a moment before a hand moved and slapped at Damien playfully.
Damien paused in mid-step, glancing back at Adrian.
“… Bitch.” He whispered, before he slapped back at Adrian.
Adrian stopped and stood perfectly in front of Damien, growling at him as his hand snapped forward to slap Damien again.
"Cunt..."
Damien snarled at the slap, eyes narrowed as he glared down at Adrian. It was only a heartbeat or so before the Adjutant’s hand snapped forward again, slapping Adrian in return.
“Whore.”
"Slut." Adrian growled, his hand snapping forward to slap Damien again mere seconds after Damien's last hit, only this time Adrian didn't stop and wait for the next hit. His hand snapped forward again to smack Damien a second time in a row.
Damien snarled again, his voice low and warning.
“Cumguzzler.” Slap! “Queen!” SLAP!
Adrian raised his voice ever so slightly, turning from the low growl to a medium roar.
"Assbanging." Slap! "Rimjobbing." Slap! "Cockjockey!" SLAP!
“What th’ FUCK ‘RE TH’ TWO OF YAH DOIN!?” Cayde’s tone was high and incredulous, and was enough to make Damien pause with both his next insult and his raised hand.
Adrian coughed lightly, hands raised in the air as he laughed nervously.
"Nothing, Lieutenant!" Adrian barked, moving to fall back into step with the rest of the unit.
Damien scowled at Cayde, as he and Adrian fell back into step. Sometimes, all a man needed was to fuck around a little bit to get his blood pumping, to get him rearing to go for the battlefield…
Matt quickened his pace a bit, and leaned in to Cayde, whispering something to him. After a moment, Lazarus cast a glance back at the two men, gave a nod to Damien, before glancing away…
Damien’s lips curved in a smirk.
“Cocknobbling.” He shouldered Adrian hard. “Ass-eating.” And again. “Dicksmoker!” And again, until his brother from another mother stumbled against the wall.
Adrian's shoulder hit the wall, making the soldier grimace before falling back into step with his brother from another mother.
He didn't yell at him.
He didn't hit him.
He just waited.
For all of about two minutes before he surged to the side, both hands planted firmly on Damien's shoulder before he pushed the taller man...
Right into an open supply closet.
"Gotcha, you rump-riding ranger!" Adrian let out a loud laugh before continuing down to the drop bay with the others.
“ACK!” Damien’s raspy cry of surprise was altogether rather comical, as was the loud crash that sounded when the man fell flat on his ass in the supply closet.
Reaper stumbled out, grumbling something, before he quickly jogged after his unit.
The Hellions were quick to reach the dropbay, each heading immediately to his or her S.O.I.E.V. There was no question as to which HEVs were the Hellions’ – each HEV was special, with the doors painted with stylized images to their occupant’s tastes. A herald back to old bomber paintings, Cayde liked to think.
“ODSTs, you are to mount up and secure yourselves in your S.O.I.E.V.s as we enter Slipspace, in five minutes!” Stark’s voice boomed over the PA systems.
"I want these HEVs locked down and ready for Slipspace in two minutes and you better secure the Hellion's HEVs first!" Welsley shouted at the drop bay technicians as he went back to his HEV diagnostic.