ME: Sorry I haven't updated in a while.
The Sim Troopers are useless dumbasses. Luckily for us, useless dumbasses are good for target practice and cannon fodder.
(Freelancer Agent Carolina, musing on the value of Project Freelancer's less-then-stellar soldiers with fellow Agent South Dakota)
May 3, 2553
UNSC Infinity, holding position above Rio de Janeiro
SIMMONS:
"Alright, men!" The brown-haired Colonel announced. "This will be a dangerous mission, and it's highly likely all of you will be killed or worse. Therefore, a skilled yet relatively expendable group will be sent in."
"Good," Grif muttered as he smoked, "he said, 'skilled.'"
"Sarge!" Holland yelled. "Get your squad ready for immediate deployment, you're going to Rio de Janeiro International Airport!"
"What?!" Simmons yelled, thick with worry. "But I'm not expendable! Colonel, where else are you gonna find someone with IT skills like mine?"
The O-6 snapped his fingers, and a pair of beefy ODSTs lifted him up.
"NO, NO, NO!" Simmons cried.
"Take 'em to the pods!" Holland ordered. "I'm not risking a Pelican to insert them."
"ASSHOLE!" Tucker yelled. "GO SUCK A-."
One of the Helljumpers shoved a Humbler electrified baton into the lech's crotch, shocking him.
Simmon's captors merely tolerated his struggling before shoving him into a SOEIV. The nerdy soldier did what he could, but the door sealed him into the metal coffin.
"Serina," Roland said over the PA, "the morons are all in the pods now."
"Good," she responded with what Simmons thought was a smirk.
Suddenly the SOEIVs were fired down out of the Infinity's belly. Donut screamed like a five-year old girl over the radio, while Grif verbally complained about Brazilian food.
"Shut your mouths ladies!" Sarge ordered.
"I'm the only girl, ya stupid old man!" Sister retorted.
"I don't know any Portuguese!" Tucker said. "Lopez, can you translate-."
Suddenly their pods smashed right into an airport restaurant.
"SON OF A BITCH!" Simmons screamed.
ME: How was this?
