"Magpie Actual, requesting permission to depart from MCS Bishamon." Salter said. "Roger that, Magpie Actual, cleared to depart. Bishamon control out." the traffic controller answered. "Try to get us down there without crashing, huh Salter?" Talon said. "Yeah, yeah. Kiss my ass, there's more to one of these things than there is to a titan." Salter shot back, "Jumping in three... two... one..."
The blinding light of the dropship's jump was seen and the passengers could look out the window to see the sprawling forests of Nostavo below. The destination for the dropship was a FOB (forward operating base) situated in a mountain-side ruin. "Magpie Actual to tower, ETA is ten minutes, out." Salter announced. The next five minutes were silent, save the sounds of the dropship. "Salter, we don't talk as much as we used to." Talon said. "That's because you and I are jack, smart, and dumb asses of equal caliber. Or I guess that's what you'd believe. I'm doubtlessly the better smartass, the other two go to you." Salter answered with a laugh. "I'd say you're just the better ass in this scenario, no one's ever accused you of being smart, Salter." Talon retorted with a laugh of his own. The other pilots on the dropship joined with him.
The rest of the trip went without much banter, and touched down safely. "Alright, everybody out, jackasses first!" Salter shouted. Another pilot tried to get in on the jabs going back and forth between the two men, "I didn't hear you clearly Salter, you say fat asses? How far do we need to back up to make room for you?"
Talon grinned at the comment as he exited the dropship. The temperature was cool thanks to the elevation. There weren't any mission briefings scheduled for the next few hours, and Talon wasn't sure what to do with himself in the meantime.
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