Immortal
#9 of Halo Chronicles
We are immortalised by our deeds.
"Six o'clock wake-up call! Up and to attention!"
Based on the Halo video-game franchise established by Bungie
"Up-up-up! I said up, boot! Straighten that god-damn blanket! Too slow, too slow!"
Written by SniperSpartan-977
"What the fuck are you doing, boot? Get your ass in line!"
Halo Chronicles
"Un-fucking-believable! You are going to be the last one again, toots! Move it or lose it!"
Kali Klepto winced as the training-baton smacked into her thigh. The young Sangheili girl almost lost her footing as a jolt of electricity made the flesh around the blow sting and every muscle in her leg contract involuntarily. The drill instructor then poked her in the small of her back before she abandoned making her bed and stood to attention beside her fellow marine recruits.
She felt out of place among them. Then again, she should have. Most of the others in her troop were human men and women about her age in Earth equivalent years. She was their height, about their build and proportions. She even had some traits in common with the furs training on Camp Lejuene. But it was plain as day obvious that Kali didn't truly belong.
She was the only alien among them. A Sangheili with slim, digitigrade legs, a narrow waist and a still developing bust. She was clad in the standard sleeping gear, a white vest and a pair of ashy-grey shorts. Goose-bumps would have formed on her skin in the cold if she had any hair on her body other than on her scalp. Her dark purple plume was pulled back into a taught braid following the deft curve of her neck, and her pink eyes were framed by tired bags underneath and a few stray strands of hair framing her face.
Ever since arriving at Camp Lejuene to train with the other marines she had the privilege to work with on a day-to-day basis, she hadn't gotten much sleep. Every morning was an early start, and now and then the drill instructors and trainers would hit the recruits with a surprise night-exercise. Camp Lejuene was the toughest boot camp the UNSC had. But it was also the best. Many of the marines who trained here went on to join the ODST, or be inducted into the Special Forces. Kali had wanted the best... so she got Camp Lejuene. She had also requested to be treated no different than the other recruits. No special treatment. No favourites.
The drill sergeants seemed particularly happy about exercising that request. Ever since day one they pushed Kali just as hard as the others. If not a bit harder. Sangheili skin was tough, muscle density doubled that of humans and most furs, and their bones were hardened with a naturally occurring carbon fibre. She could take abuse much better than the other recruits. And as such, Sergeant Wesker paid special attention.
Wesker was pretty brutal with the use of his training-baton. But what was more brutal than the sergeant's baton was his tongue. He had a way of throwing his voice the other drill instructors could only hope to one day imitate reasonably competently.
"Oh, my, God!" Sergeant Wesker bellowed across the billets. "You assholes make me sick! I've seen God-damn Chihuahuas with more balls than you pussies!" he rounded on Kali whom he always so 'lovingly' liked to call 'toots.' "Get some fucking clothes on and get to breakfast!"
'Breakfast' was a very loose term for the meal they were provided in the mess-hall. Clad in the loose fitting grey PT fatigues, Kali's troop, Troop Alpha were sat down in silence. There they scoffed down a plate of dry wheat crackers chased by a jug of water. Still under constant verbal abuse from Wesker and his cronies.
Kali glanced sideways and saw one of her fellow recruits scowl while Wesker gave the young man an ear-full. The idea to constantly bombard the recruits with stress and abuse was to condition them to operate in any environment. Marines had to be able to keep a straight head especially when bombs started falling. This was preparing them for that.
All of them were so worn thin and stretched for energy, none had the heart to rip on Kali for being a Sangheili. In boot camp there was no race, colour or species. Every one of them was equally worthless. Nobody cared that Kali was an alien.
With a hardly palatable breakfast only just beginning to settle in her stomach, she was clad in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, the weight of a twenty-kilo rucksack cutting into her shoulders and a rifle cradled in her weary arms. She was made to run. Why? Simply the crackle of energy emanating from the tip of the trainer's baton was enough reason to keep moving.
The winding path lead into the mountains, the blistering cold wind and sleet battering her body bringing sobriety a cup of coffee or a shot of adrenaline couldn't deliver on the same level. They were running in a loose formation, constantly uphill through the winding mountain paths with the trainers between them, yelling themselves hoarse and threatening discipline should they slow down.
It was excessive. It was brutal... it was what Kali had wanted. She had spent some time in the field among marines acting as a forerunner consultant. But every time shit hit the fan she was shoved into the dirt and protected like some damsel by her marine guards. She was sick of it, so she had nagged, and nagged, and nagged... and eventually her handlers broke. They permitted her to become a marine. She had been sworn in with the blessings of Corporal Roads and the rest of Zombie squad, assigned the necessary visas and tracking chips, before she was sent to Camp Lejuene for training. Her adoptive father had gone to the same camp for training when he was recruited, one of the reasons Kali wanted to go to that particular camp. He had warned that it would be brutal.
She never expected this brutal.
But Kali was no quitter. She was determined to see this through. No stopping. No compromise. She would finish this course even if it killed her.
"You are fucking slow, toots! I'd bet if Gunnery Sergeant Buck was waiting for you, you'd get your ass up that hill a lot faster!" Sergeant Wesker ran by Kali's side, keeping pace by constantly yelling at her. "Well? What do you have to say? Sound off, God-damn it!"
"Sir, yes sir!" Kali chanted weakly between her struggles for breath, a hot mist rising from between her slack mandibles.
"Bullshit, toots!" Wesker bellowed. "I don't fucking hear you!"
"SIR, YES SIR!"
Somewhere ahead of Kali another recruit dropped to the dirt. He was somewhere to the front of the formation, and when he dropped face down from exhaustion, everyone gave him a wide birth. The trainers ignored the boy and started directing their attention to the wannabe-marines still on their feet, running weakly uphill. The fellow recruits paid the boy no mind.
Except Kali.
As she ran over, she slowed and stooped. Tucking her rifle between her rucksack and back, she picked the boy up, draping one arm around her neck and wrapping her other arm around his waist. Holding him up she picked up the pace again, the recruit's feet shuffling as he struggled to keep up with her pace.
"Out-fucking-standing, toots! I'll turn you into a warrior yet!" Wesker shouted with less volume this time. Kali gave a winning smile, realising there was a hint of shock and surprise in the sergeant's voice.
The path finally came to an end. The blasting sleet let up and a few rays of sunshine peered through the clouds. The soaked and tired recruits, cold and shivering savoured the few insignificant warm rays that cast over them. Kali dropped to the dirt completely breathless, her legs numb. The recruit she had carried dropped practically on top of her.
He was somewhat thinner than she was, smaller too. The human's eyes rolled in his head for a moment before he realised where he was and struggled to sit up. Kali sat beside him and grinned. The young human gave a small nod.
"Thanks." He mumbled, not wanting to think about what would have happened if Kali hadn't carried him.
"Any time." Kali responded. She wasn't about to leave any of her fellows behind. The way she saw it, all the recruits were in the same boat. The only way they were going to survive was help each other out.
Even as they were all catching their breath, the instructors couldn't give them too much of a breather. Soon Kali heard them un-holster their batons again and start bellowing at them.
"Get the hell up! This is not your grave..."
1) ... but you are welcome in it.
"Get your ass up, toots!"
Through the murky, groggy darkness, Kali heard his familiar voice. Slowly opening her eyes she found she wasn't hiking through the freezing mountain air, but rather sitting in a canned version of it. The pelican was twisted, bent and buckled all around her serving as a makeshift coffin cratered into a snowy mountainside. Though, it would be a coffin had she perished in the crash.
It slowly came back to the young Sangheili girl. The events in the control room. The escape. The crash... James.
"Don't make me come in there and get you, toots! C'mon, move!" Came his breaking voice again, de-railing Kali's train of thought. It was a voice that brought back a flood of memories that could be classed into two categories. Some were good. The rest were hellishly fucking terrible.
"Ryan?" Kali asked a little groggily. Her mandibles felt swollen and she tasted her own tarry blood. Waving a hand in front of her face to dissipate some of the thick smoke hanging in the downed pelican, she peered through the murky light. Somewhere across the twisted troop bay was a neat circle of light surrounding a dark silhouette of a narrow shouldered man.
"Well who the fuck else could it be?" Came Ryan's teenish voice again. "On your feet, toots! We're not out of the forest yet!"
Kali ran a set of slender fingers over her face. What the hell was he doing here? Private First Class Ryan had graduated at Camp Lejuene with her. The two had been friends ever since that run through the mountains, the one where she'd saved him from disciplinary action by carrying him for the final stretch of the run.
Not that it mattered much why he was there. She was glad for the crude wake-up call. Something about being reminded of Camp Lejuene was like an instant adrenaline shot, or a hit of caffeine to the cerebral cortex.
Reaching forward, she used her other arm to push herself to her feet. Feeling the muscles in her calves burn like she had run a marathon, Kali slowly teetered forward and stumbled to catch her balance. The hole in the wreckage seemed to sway and bob from side to side in the frame of her narrow vision. The black edges surrounding her gaze seemed to pulse and shrink in around her from time to time before she jerked a muscle and felt a shocked flutter of her heart push the darkness away again.
She got close to exiting the stuffy confines of the twisted pelican drop ship and fell forward. Her knees struck metal causing the loose deck-plates to rattle noisily in their broken brackets. The broad silhouette in the window of light returned. A hand reached in and grabbed Kali by the collar of her jacket.
Kali felt her body jerk forward in the powerful grip of Private Ryan. With one deft heave he pulled her from the drop ship wreckage and she immediately felt the frozen mountain air blister her skin. Gasping with surprise and immediately regretting the action as the cold air burned her lungs, Kali coughed, feeling the slushy snow hit her hands and knees. She held herself in position, preventing icy water from completely drenching her. It seeped through the knees of her trousers and drained the heat from her hands, making her fingers numb.
Ryan didn't let her go, and didn't let her catch her breath. He half dragged her, half helped her crawl to the edge of the wreckage. Where the pelican drop-ship had cratered into the snow dusted valley it had left a long groove in the frozen dirt, and a crater surrounding the broken tail of the vessel. Kali had been dragged out the shattered troop-bay hatch and found herself in a very rough, makeshift machine-gun nest.
Ryan threw Kali against the bank of the crater and sat over her on one knee. The man quickly straightened his helmet, the marine's chin-strap dangling down by his throat. He was holding an MA5C assault rifle by his side and seemed locked and ready to fight despite the blood and dirt smeared across his combat fatigues. Mist rose from his mouth as he sighed, his weary eyes darting up and down the mountains they had crashed among. They had cratered about halfway down a valley that ended in sheer cliffs about a kilometre downhill. Far above them he could make out the tip of the control room through a flurry of snow carried on the wind.
"Aw, shit." He spotted movement making its way downhill at them. Thick trails led back up the gentle slope to the control room. It looked like they had incoming. "Charlie Foxtrots. Well, this shit just fuels the god-damn comedy. Looks like we're boxed in. Here." Ryan reached back and pulled a submachine gun from the back of his belt.
He flicked out the M7's front-grip and handed the compact snub-nosed weapon to Kali. The Sangheili girl slowly took the weapon and turned it over in her hands. It took a moment for her to get back into the mind-set, but eventually she found herself possessed. Her hands moved on pure instinct, tugging the stock into its longest position with a sharp 'click,' and thumbing the bolt release, loading the first round of the clip into the chamber.
"Where's extraction?" Kali asked, blinking away tears as the cold wind ripped into her eyes for a moment.
"Sorry." Ryan shook his head, shouldering his assault rifle. "This is our last stand."
Last stand? Well that was just perfect! She had survived everything thus far just to find herself staring death in the face? Just to find herself in a fight she couldn't win? Kali's heart sank. This was it.
This was how it would end?
"I don't want to die holding this girly piece of crap." Kali whined holding up the M7.
That made Ryan laugh. Smiling to reveal a distinct gap where a tooth was missing and rolling his eyes, he looked uphill. "Jackass." The Sangheili smiled back at him.
Sitting up, Kali peeked over the bank of the crater to see the wind had settled. With it, the miniature blizzard passed... and she caught her first glimpse of the incoming Covenant troops.
There was a full complement of grunts, squat little aliens with clumsy arms and heavy methane tanks mounted on their backs. Their short little legs didn't carry them far, and what they lost in combat proficiency and discipline, they gained in numbers. There were loads of them, at least forty to fifty orange armoured little dog-like critters sliding and tumbling down the hillside towards the pelican wreckage.
At the front was the brute chieftain who led them, a bulky armoured ape swinging a gravity hammer like it weighed no more than a twig. The monster leapt forward with powerful strides that caused him to bob from side to side, with a mighty cry while he swung his weapon through invisible armies.
This was it...
Kali's stare was interrupted as there was a rapid report of gunfire from Ryan's assault rifle. Tracers exploded from the muzzle every three rounds, empty shells ringing out as they landed by his knee. A burp from Kali's SMG followed, caseless rounds popping loudly against the alien's armour as she felt the butt-plate kick against her shoulder. The muzzle crawled rapidly upwards and the Sangheili had to pull down on the foregrip to keep her aim steady.
In reply, sparks burst across the chieftain's chest plate causing him to twist away to maintain his balance. But his velocity and direction of charge was left unhindered.
Ammo dwindled rapidly as the chieftain closed in like a freight train with a murderous purpose. The gravity hammer let out a whoosh of energy as it scythed through the air. It came around horizontally skimming over their bank and caused Ryan and Kali to recoil. The human private launched himself to one side while Kali tumbled backwards, head over heels, into the floor of their nest. The hammer swung smoothly up then quickly came back down, descending swift judgement upon where sat Ryan.
For a moment he looked up and it looked like he might jump out of the way. Survive to unleash the next magazine of ammunition into the ape...
A plasma bolt scythed out of nowhere. It hit him in the side, burning through armour, fabric and flesh with an angry flicker of fire. Ryan screamed with pain, flinching and dropping to his knees. The next thing he knew the hammer hit the top of his helmet.
The marine just exploded as the projected mass of a small sun jettisoned Ryan's head out of his knees. A shard of army green armour, twisted and jagged, dripping with crimson gelatin slammed into the ground at Kali's feet, causing her to scream bloody murder at the top of her lungs.
"SON OF A BITCH, I'LL KILL YOU!" aiming the SMG in one hand while scrambling back, she fired to discover her harsh language was about as effective as her ammunition. The muzzle crawled from side to side, bullets ripping across the brute's torso, but the chieftain didn't even flinch. Sparks across the power armour were simply swatted out of the way.
The hammer rose high as Kali's weapon ran dry with a distinct click. 'Dead man's click.'
Mist rose from Kali's mouth. Her eyes slowly slid shut... but the hammer didn't fall.
A barrage of shotgun fire ripped into her ear-drums and ignited the air. Each successive blast caused Kali to flinch with a flutter of her heart. The chieftain was thrown sideways and he landed at an odd angle before struggling to rise again. More buckshot tore into the beast's armour, tearing away chunks of armour and meat. There was a wet sound as another shot hit the brute in the back of the knee.
Legs unable to compensate in time, the chieftain fell. The hammer swung low and across the elite girl, but she flattened herself against the dirt. The slipstream was heated and thickened the air; it winded her as the greatest part of the hammer's mass swung past her face. Her eyes fluttered and a lock of her hair brushed over her cheek. Static energy caused an audible crackle in her plume. Gasping she just about saw the blur of the hammer swing onward and the brute twist around with his own momentum against the side of the embankment used for cover.
Scrambling back she looked up to see a guardian angel descend upon her position.
He was better than an angel. Clad in UNSC army reserves colours, Private Third Class James Trent was looking like some kind of teenage Rambo. He was missing most of his gear, left with his BDU fatigues, boots and tac-vest. His helmet was missing, just like the last time Kali had seen him, revealing his short black hair and dark red eyes. The young man had tired rings under his eyes to match the rough stubble developing along his jaw. Still, just like the first time she'd seen his picture on a mission report, she found herself unable to look away.
In Kali's eyes he was the most handsome thing for several lightyears.
"Eat it you son of a whore!" James' broken voice screamed over the next aural assault from the shotgun in his arms. The weapon kicked against his shoulder, causing him to flinch, but he held fast, pinning the chieftain in place with a near point-blank hit to the centre-mass.
The shotgun wasn't all James was carrying. Hanging from a three point sling across his torso was an MA5C assault rifle, judging by the '32' on the ammo-counter loaded with his last magazine. Finally, there was a pistol tucked into the front of his belt, a weapon Kali could only hope had the safety properly engaged, mainly because of where the barrel was currently pointed.
"James!" Kali screamed with desperation and he seemed to lock eyes with her for a split second.
James leapt over the edge of the embankment and cocked shotgun one last time. "Hi, Kali. So, how are you doing today?" The human managed a fake smile while working the weapon's action.
There was an empty click as the fore grip slid forward again and he tossed the weapon at his feet. Twisting to face uphill he reached down and plucked the assault rifle from its cradle. It swung upwards and the barrel flashed. Rounds cut low across the incoming grunts, slicing into snow and earth, but missing flesh altogether. However, the cowardly creatures, with the fall of their leader, quickly recoiled, but couldn't quite grip the earth with all the frozen ice impeding their stubby little legs. It caused them to topple clumsily downhill. The line behind them panicked and tried to fall back, crashing into the charging line behind them, causing a further 'fluster-cluck' in their advance. Grunts piled into each other and what started as an assault turned into a desperate struggle to find out which way was 'up.'
The brute groaned and sat up again, raising his hammer to James' back. Kali went to move forward and warn James, but she found her limbs refused to obey her commands. Noting the motion in the corner of his eye, the human whipped back around, his empty rifle falling from his hands.
In a fairly clumsy motion he managed to pull a pistol from the front of his belt and aim it in both hands. Time froze. Kali was staring at a painting as the muzzle of the weapon flashed. The brute was just about building up the momentum to lunge, only to receive a face-full of burning gun-powder. James' eyes were squeezed shut tightly as he held the pistol at full arms' length, his face angled away in instinctive fear.
A thunderclap met her ear-canals and Kali recognised the sound in an instant. The standard issue low-cal sidearm utilised in self-defence by UNSC archaeological and R&D personnel. Trent must have scavenged it earlier.
Though James was obviously not a great shot, at this range there was no missing his mark.
The brute lurched backwards, the hammer falling with a thud beside where Kali lay in a helpless state. The brute landed a moment later, the back of the chieftain's skull burst open like a smashed overripe melon thanks to the velocity of the forty-five calibre killer.
James stared wide eyed at the dead alien, then down at his pistol before locking his shocked eyes on Kali. "Holy shit, I got him! I actually faced a brute and I'm breathing to brag about it!"
That was enough to make the Sangheili girl smile again. A smile that faded immediately as the cluster-fucked grunts managed to right themselves and resume fire. Plasma splashed the wreckage beside her head, singing some of her plume before her limbs decided to move again. James dropped face down to the deck in an unceremonious fashion as Kali smoothly dove forward and rolled head over heels. She landed neatly beside where James had discarded his MA5C and plucked up the bulpup weapon. Holding it up, she quickly ditched the empty magazine and whirled around, throwing her back against the embankment. More enemy fire slammed into their cover and James crawled over.
Kali's eyes were frozen on Private Ryan's remains for a moment. There was a large smear of red and purple in the dirt, surrounded by ragged, broken limbs, shattered shards of bone and bits of UNSC gear. Her eyes moved to a discarded ammo pouch untouched by the biological desolation. The flap hung open revealing an MA5 magazine within, the brass in the full mag shining in the grim light. With a sigh, Kali plucked it up and loaded the MA5C.
Another bloodlust roar filled the air and drew their eyes up to see more figures make their way down the crash site. More Covenant, a mix of grunts and brute minors. They spilled like water over the edges of the valley and streamed down towards the smoking pelican wreckage, eager to wipe the infidels off the ring-world.
They had to move quickly.
Kali was the first to react. She looped her arm around James' waist and dragged him to his feet, drawing a surprised 'whoa' from the human. Arm in arm they hobbled clear of the wreck and followed the drift of settled snow downhill. Plasma bolts followed them, igniting the air around the duo. Some sizzled into the snow at their heels, spitting smoke and steam into the backs of their legs.
James suddenly cried out as he was thrown sideways by a glowing green force. The human tumbled head over heels out of Kali's grip, rolling through the snow with steam hissing from the back of his vest. There was a distinct burn mark where a low powered plasma bolt struck him.
As the human rolled to a halt and tried to figure out how to right himself, Kali slid on her knees next to him, whipping around and firing her assault rifle. The weapon chattered loudly, spitting tracers up at their pursuers. Sitting up, James just about saw several grunts drop under a fluorescent blue mist.
Next thing he knew, James was pulled to his feet again by the Sangheili girl and they were running downhill. Directly in their path was a boulder, a lone monolith in the midst of a smooth valley, with snow and ice packed along the upper curvature. James gave it a wide birth as kali slipped around the edge and dragged the human in beside her.
James rolled over as he fell into the cover, then scrambled backwards until his back struck the boulder. They were sitting about two dozen metres down-drift from their previous position in the pelican wreckage.
They may have cleared the downed pelican but their escape options were still limited. Ahead of them was the funnel shaped slope overflowing with Covenant. A few hundred metres downhill was a sheer cliff dropping straight down untold kilometres. Plasma filled the space between them and the Covenant. Bolts sizzled with energy hissed as they hit the snow, leaving steaming puddles in the ice. Neither of them had to vocalise exactly how helpless the situation was.
James peeked around the edge of the boulder to inspect the writhing mass of aliens making their way down. Green and blue flashed this way and that, broken up by the odd projectile from a brute spike-rifle. With a sigh he slumped back, butting the back of his head against the stone used for cover.
"Well." He sighed with a flutter of his heart. "I guess this is it."
Kali was staring at the empty rifle in her hands. A bit better than the SMG. She smirked. But she'd still prefer to live. Her eyes shifted over and she looked at the human boy seated beside her. She'd prefer to live with him.
"I wish I could have gotten to know you better, James." Kali said under the whine of enemy weapons as she dropped the useless MA5C in the snow.
Hell seemed to buzz all around them at that moment. But for them, the duo sitting under the boulder in the midst of a valley of ice and death... there was a temporary haven filled with a few more moments of bliss.
James grinned as he turned his head to look at the Sangheili girl. "Same here, Kali." The human said holding up a hand.
Smiling, Kali quickly wrapped her forearm around his and interlocked her fingers between the human's. She held on tight, as if she was reluctant to ever let go.
"But just so you know, I'm nothing special." James quickly added with a blush, realising how close Kali was scooting up against him.
The young alien woman found that hard to believe. Leaning forward, she brushed the tips of her mandibles against James' cheek. "Yes you are." She whispered in his ear.
James' eyebrows cocked with surprise before he slowly lifted his face to look at the Sangheili. They were mere millimetres away from each other. With each passing moment of the freezing cold swirling around them, he felt more of her hot breath warm the skin on his face. Her eyes fluttered as Kali angled her head a little, her light pinks staring into his dark reds...
THUD!
Both leaned away from each other and looked over their shoulders. Landing right above them was a brute, who had leapt atop the boulder they used for cover. Another chieftain, though in lighter armour than the one from before, the ape-like alien let out a mighty roar, holding his gravity hammer high in triumph, about to claim his meat...
This was it...
Kali felt tears well in her eyes as she let them fall shut. She didn't want to go... not yet...
Her grip on James' hand tightened...
"I lo-..."
K'BLAM!
For a dread moment she thought she was dead. She felt James physically jolt with fright beside her. Kali's eyes jerked open as the gunshot echoed off into the valley.
A tracer slashed from the sky, straight down into the top of the brute's head. The tell-tale SRS99-Anti Materiel round pierced straight down through the torso, cutting through alien flesh, organ, bone and armour with ease, before smashing into the top of the rock between the brute's feet - followed by a waterfall of gore.
As the brute fell away dead, it was James' turn to look up and see a guardian angel. The bulky outline of the pelican was impossible to mistake, descending directly upon them. Hanging out the back of the drop ship was a humanoid figure. The sniper was clad in black ODST uniform from the neck down, her head and tail revealed her to be an anthropomorphic wolf. She was firing her SRS99 from an impossible position, with her toes dug into the deck plates of the pelican, rifle aimed down and her body hanging nearly parallel with the troop ramp.
Behind her was another ODST, a human with a monocle hanging from a head-mount over his right eye. One of his gauntlets was clamped around a handhold in the troop bay, the other holding on to his sniper buddy's belt.
The human spotter turned his head into the drop ship and he bellowed over the roar of the engines: "Good hit! Clear to drop!"
The spotter pulled his sniper in and the two disappeared from sight. Covenant plasma fire shifted upward to splash across the gunmetal green hull of the VTOL. The vehicle swooped low, nosing downhill almost immediately. Three figures leapt from the troop bay as it passed and rocketed for the low ground and out of enemy fire range. The falling figures tucked and rolled on impact with the ground, landing right next to Kali and James with pronounced thuds in the snow.
James recognised the first on her feet immediately.
"Sera!" he cried, jumping to his feet.
The panthress was exactly as she was when they had first met during that banshee attack. Black camouflage fatigues hugging her slender figure, with a black ODST tac-vest over her torso. Her baseball cap was pulled low over her eyes, and to compliment the daggers mounted on her chest she had a pistol on her right thigh and a long barrelled rifle with a scope mounted diagonally across her back. Her yellow eyes narrowed angrily the panther leapt from the position where she landed and collided with James before he could properly rise. With her claws digging painfully into his shoulders, the ODST pinned the private flat on his back in the snow with a thud.
"Stay down, you idiot!" the panthress scolded, sounding genuinely pissed off. James had heard her pissed before, but this was something else entirely. "Just my luck! I have to jump into hell just to save your ass!"
"Oh-ho, good to see you too." James shot a little tartly, rubbing his hand over where the back of his head had struck the ground.
He froze when he saw the second and third figures that had dropped from the pelican rise.
James looked Sera and found himself staring at a Sangheili. Her face was partially hidden under her combat helmet, which was olive green to match the rest of her armour, and the colours of the human forces she served with. She had distinct UNSC-DF markings on her right shoulder plate, and a sleek looking plasma carbine mounted on her back. On her collar were the bars of a lieutenant along with a name-tag. 'Zara Sofid.'
First Lieutenant Zara Sofid'. A Sangheili warrior, defected from the Covenant to join the UNSC. James knew of her from a file he'd been provided during his mission briefing... after signing a very strict non-disclosure contract with ONI of course. Basically, if James even uttered the name 'Zara' in public, nasty ONI men would appear and make James go away.
But the Sangheili presence was partially understandable. Kali was working with the UNSC, why not a few others? Still, of all the people to drop into hell to save his ass, James was not expecting to see this. His eyes were literally the size of saucers when the final mass of muscle and armour lifted his machine gun and threw himself into a position to fire.
It was something out of legend, something he never expected to actually lay eyes on. Apparently - by his approximate calculation - his odds of sitting on a mountainside on an ancient alien ring-shaped artefact world, while holding hands with a Sangheili girl were astronomically better than actually meeting a living legend... apparently math never lied.
James had heard they weren't even human. That they breathed water and could change shape. They could see in the dark, and were always watching. That they were the shadows, and that nothing could stop them. It was said they never died, merely went to hell to regroup.
Spartans.
Though, if that kind of Spartan were here, he'd march up that valley and eviscerate the Covenant by shooting fireballs from his eyes, and lightning bolts out his ass.
Though within that armour and behind the emotionless veil and the advanced electronics, James knew damn well the Spartan was human.
Still. A Spartan truly was a sight of inspiration to behold.
The markings of a master chief, along with the name-tag 'Matthews' adorned the spartan's armoured collar.
The Spartan threw his shoulder against the rock for cover, and then stepped around with his weapon shouldered to unleash an unholy hell storm of lead from his machine gun. The ammo belt chugged up and out of the ammo box, feeding directly through the open bolt mechanism. Clips holding the rounds together, along with empty brass shells showered from the side of the weapon as white hot ammunition spat from the muzzle. Titanium tipped rounds thudded through the snow, churning up dirt and ice in lines that traced left and right across the slopes. The lines cut through enemy aliens, punching through armour and bone with explosions of multi-coloured blood that sprayed across the fields of carnage.
"Lieutenants!" the master chief ordered, simultaneously keeping his mind on suppressing fire. "We're going to be overrun! Suppressing fire, now!"
Sera was the first to nod. From where she straddled the human's waist, she slapped away the pistol still gripped in James' hand and pulled an ODST issue M6C from her right thigh. She yanked back the slide, chambering a round before flipping it over and catching the pistol by the barrel. James slowly took it as she climbed off him and pulled loose her scoped rifle.
James scooted back against the rock and turned the pistol over in his hand, inspecting the long-barrelled weapon. It felt a little front-heavy thanks to the optics hanging on the rail underneath the snub-muzzle. But judging by the diameter of the barrel, this gun fired monstrous bullets.
To his side Sera leaned around the edge of the rock and fired bursts up-slope into the Covenant infantry. Zara leaned over the spartan's shoulder and fired her own weapon in the same direction, though on a different overlapping arc, maximising their fields of cover. The alien advance screeched to a halt as the Covenant dove to ground in an attempt to find cover behind the limp bodies of their fallen comrades.
James figured he had to start helping. Twisting around and sitting up on his knees he prepared to fire, when all of a sudden a delicate set of fingers tapped him on the arm.
"Uh, James?" Kali leaned closer with a distinct grin on her face.
"Hmmm?" James met her eye and frowned. It took him a full five seconds to realise she was pointing at the pistol in his hand. "Oh, right! Yeah, I'm a terrible shot. So, y'know... maybe you should..." he held out the weapon.
"Yeah." Kali caught it by the barrel and threw it into the air, catching it neatly by the grip.
"... thanks." James muttered watching the nimble Sangheili girl clamber up the face of the boulder and perch herself just over the summit.
Laying her shooting arm just over the top of the cover, she carefully lined up her sights, squeezing shut one eye and began to join in the fire. She wouldn't be doing much suppressing fire, what with only a mag of twelve rounds. But the M6C/SOCOM sidearm was powerful and accurate enough to act as a backup DMR when facing weak opponents like jackals and grunts.
Twelve 'twips' of air puffed from the pistol's silencer... twelve Covenant infantry fell to the ground, spitting blood from their cracked skulls.
As the girl dropped back, she pulled another mag from Sera's gear and reloaded. James just watched. He felt useless. There was nothing to fix. No computers to hack or electronics to repair. What could he possibly do to help?
And then he saw it. A higher ridge not far above the wreckage of the pelican that still smoked a dozen metres uphill. Up-slope about a hundred, say two hundred metres was a bank of packed snow along one of the valley walls...
"This isn't going well!" Sera cried as she was forced into cover when Covenant fire thickened. Plasma exploded against the carpet of snow all around them. The air they breathed seemed to catch fire as clouds of steam and foul smoke emanating from the glassed dirt swirled all around them. "We won't make it to the extraction bird without some better cover fire."
The Spartan ducked back to avoid a charged plasma-bolt before sitting up and resuming fire. "Just hold them off! Just hold them off!"
James leaned back, separating himself from the boulder keeping him safe from the onslaught of enemy fire. He was looking past the surging waves of alien bodies streaming towards them, and up to the grooves of packed snow and ice along the flank that arched down-slope. He scanned the packs along the steep valley walls and noted several long, black cracks formed along the base.
"Scruffy! This is not good!" Zara yelled as she flinched with a bolt of energy skimming her shields. Golden light arched across her body as she ducked back to let her weapon vent excess heat. "Do we have air support?"
"Negative!" Matthews replied. "We're on our own!"
"Well we need a better plan than sticking around here!" Kali cried as she paused to reload again.
"Hey, you wanna move? Go right ahead!" Sera sarcastically invited the Sangheili girl to take a stroll into the thick blur of plasma fire screaming all around them.
A bolt slammed into the ground beside James' hand as an idea flashed into his mind. His eyes visibly widened, though not with shock - but with realization. Quickly - and rather clumsily - the human scrambled back to where the others sat.
"Two o'clock high!" James pointed. "You see the packs of snow? This is an avalanche zone! A bit of ordinance and we can bring a mountainside down on this valley!"
Sera shrugged. "Death by Covenant, death by avalanche? Toh-may-toh, toh-mah-toh! So what?"
"So, I think a few tonnes of crushing snow and ice travelling at a few hundred kilometres per hour would cover us a better than your pea-shooter there." James bellowed in a matter-of-factly tone. He suddenly faltered under the panthress' glare. "Err... ma'am." He added respectfully.
Matthews dropped back into cover and shifted his golden gaze between the human and the panthress. "Are you sure about this?" came his boyish voice.
"James is a certified nerd, sir." Sera said before turning her head to look at the master chief and give a nod. "He knows this stuff."
"Uh... thanks?" James' brow furrowed.
The master chief seemed to take the plan in for a moment, then gave a chuckle and a nod. "I love this plan!" he shouted, suddenly very enthusiastic. "I can't wait to be a part of it."
"Scruffy, all we have is grenades..." Zara started, but the Spartan cut across her by resting a hand on her arm.
"It'll work. Give me all your explosives!" the super-soldier suddenly ordered everyone. "I'm the fastest, I'll run up there an plant a det-pack."
"What?" James suddenly exclaimed as Sera and Zara started pulling loose explosives and the Spartan holstered his weapon across his back. "That's over five hundred metres through the thick of enemy fire!"
"Yeah." Matthews sighed tiredly as he accepted the grenades from the two lieutenants and attached them to his belt. "Pity it's all uphill."
James gaped. "Hubris."
The master chief gave the private a light punch in the shoulder, a fist able to smash through bone and steel with ease lightly patting James on the shoulder. "Soon as the Covenant have their attention averted, get to that pelican. Copy?"
James stared silently. It was unbelievable. Matthews was throwing himself into enemy fire and not even sounding remotely distressed. The eighteen year old Private Third Class gave a slow nod. "Yes sir."
Matthews nodded, then moved to make his sprint up the valley-side.
He was stopped by a vice grip locked around his wrist. Scruffy looked back and locked eyes with Zara. The Sangheili had a concerned look in her eyes. The Spartan levitated it by de-polarising his visor. His glowing grey eyes gazed into hers until he saw that small smile form on her mandibles again. A smile she only wore on certain nights they were along in their quarters. It was what Scruffy strove to see. It was his inspiration to keep fighting. To throw himself on the line for those he loved.
"Come back to me, demon." Zara teased in a firm tone.
"Wouldn't think of disobeying you, ma'am." Scruffy smile back, then added in a whisper; "I love you, Zara."
The lieutenant leaned closer until the front of her helmet gently touched his. "I love you, Nathan." She whispered back.
In one fluid movement, Scruffy rose to his feet and sprinted out of cover, leaving the Sangheili lieutenant to take care of the others.
Alarms blared in the spartan's helmet when a thousand degrees' worth of plasma slammed into his flank shields. But he didn't stumble, he didn't falter. He pounded his boots harder into the snow and ice, propelling himself like an armoured missile uphill. The shadow of the dead pelican flashed over him, bringing a break to the torment on his shields. The green glow on his visor disappeared, replaced by a golden tint and a hum of energy from his shield capacitors. He did not slow though as his shields only charged a quarter ways. There was no time to wait.
No seconds to spare.
Scruffy launched himself out the other side of the temporary cover and raced uphill. Fields of fire slid closer and shifted away from the boulder protecting his objective... protecting his love. Plasma screamed over his head and slammed into the ground at his heels. Clouds of powder sprayed into the air in his wake. Hundreds of metres were covered in mere seconds...
But with the onslaught of a Covenant battalion out to get you with walls of plasma, seconds dragged by slowly, feeling like hours. Days even.
But James' assessment was right. There were indeed loose banks of snow, tonnes of frozen water hanging to the rocky valley's edge, waiting to be unleashed upon the aliens harassing the UNSC personnel below.
Scruffy was nearly there... when he exploded.
The crash was deafening and left a permanent ringing in his ears. His auditory sensors didn't block fast enough and the spartan's ear drums ruptured painfully. When the green light of the plasma blast faded and the Geiger counter stopped clicking furiously, he found himself on his back.
Warmth trickled down his face. Forcing open his eyes he found himself looking at the sky, grim grey streaks over the blue. There was spiderweb of cracks across his vision, OLED fluids leaking through his broken visor and blurring the scene. There, in the distance was the far end of the halo ring, glittering across vast miles of space. So beautiful. So familiar.
He always knew he'd die on this wretched piece of ancient alien history.
His eyes stung as he blinked away the blood flowing into them. He forced his arms to move... but could only react with the right. Gasping for air, Scruffy lifted his head. He looked down at himself, his armour scorched, machine gun missing... several of his tac-pouches were torn free laying scattered in the glassed dirt around him. His gaze shifted to his left arm.
It was gone. From the elbow down was nothing, just a bloody stump of charred flesh, melted bone and twisted, jagged armour framing the grisly sight. There was no pain, just cold as the blistering wind snaked its way into his armour.
Coughing, Scruffy managed to sit up and find the stock of the pistol still locked to his leg. He pulled it free with a click of the mag-lock holster and aimed downhill. There he saw the Covenant massing. Little to no attention was paid to the boulder where the others were hiding. From where he sat high above them he could see Zara had made the call.
Figures the size of ants dashed from cover towards the pelican waiting at the lowest point of the valley, beyond the covenant range of fire. Scruffy's pistol barked at the incoming Covenant as they turned more of their attention towards the Spartan. The aliens obviously felt claiming the life of a 'demon' was worth more than the lives of four other UNSC personnel. They were already swarming uphill to claim the Spartan as their prize, clambering over each other in an attempt to close the gap faster.
'Good. Get them away from Zara. Let them come get me.' He thought as the slide on the pistol locked back. He saw Zara board the pelican below and let out a sigh, dropping the empty sidearm. She was safe. The objective was secured. That was the most important thing.
Following James' plan through with the avalanche was quite moot at that point. But still. Scruffy smirked at the thought. It was a good plan. And he'd hate to see it go to waste.
Reaching up with his remaining arm, Scruffy felt over his collar and found his shield generator's emergency release latch. He gave it a twist, and with a click and a hiss the back-portion of his MJOLNIR armour fell away.
Rolling over, Scruffy managed to sit up on his knees. The sudden change from a prone to upright position made his head spin as the blood drained away from his brain. He ignored it, fumbling over the access port on the generator pack.
"From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli. De-da-da-da-dee. First we'll fight for right and freedom... lala-de-dee..." Scruffy sang in a mumble to himself as he found the emergency kill switch.
"Our Flag's unfurled to every breeze... da-da-la-dee..." his fingers worked over the codes.
A bolt of energy seared into the small of Scruffy's back. He cried out with pain as the bolt burned through cloth and flesh. His lungs felt like they were venting air into his gut. He ignored the pain, suddenly realizing his heart had stopped beating. The Covenant were close now, he could hear their screeches and practically feel their breath on his neck.
"Every clime and place, where we could take a gun..." the Spartan hummed on absently, feeding in the last string of digits. "The covvies and innies ever look on heaven's scenes... they will find the streets are guarded..." the overload-priming switch popped up into view. A crimson handle with a warning sign printed clearly on it.
Scruffy ignored the warnings and grabbed the handle. A brute loomed over, shadow clearly visible on the scorched earth surrounding the Spartan, the alien letting out a mighty cry. With a click, Scruffy's hand rotated the switch right around.
"By UNSC marines."
There was no sound. There was no pain. No warmth, no cold... just light. Blinding white light. And Scruffy's last thoughts were of Lieutenant Zara 'Sofid.
Perhaps spartans didn't regroup in hell per-se.
**************************---
2) Roll Call.
The UNSC Sharkbait was silent across the decks. The only bustle was in engineering as a skeleton crew worked on getting them home. The drum of the Shaw-Fujikawa slip-space drives drowned out the respectfully low whispers of the crew. There were no rabbles among friends. No loud exchange of words. Not during the eulogy.
Archer bay six was dead quiet in respect for those lost on the Halo instillation. The gantries were home to the smartly dressed mission co-ordinators and support companies. The fire control console was manned by Captain Reynolds on a balcony overlooking the chamber. The other attendees, the ground forces including the sniper-squad Straight Shot, the ODST from Zombie Squad and little under a company of accompanying marines were lined neatly in lines before missile launch tube nine. Even James was among them.
He stood out in his civvies, a pair of jeans and a green hoodie bearing a white UNSC-Army Reserves crest on the left breast. He was a fleck on the canvas of pristine white military dress uniforms that surrounded him. Even Specialist Klepto was out of armour, with his cap pulled low over his brow. Kali stood beside her adoptive father, also clad in a white naval uniform tailored to fit her form neatly. James hadn't considered he'd be attending a funeral, or any other kind of formal event for that matter. He'd neglected to pack his dress uniform for the mission, and all he had left were his civilian clothes after the armoury had collected the remnants of his combat gear for repair and refit.
He felt strangely naked without his body armour. Amazing what one could grow accustomed to in such a short period of time when the pressure was on.
Shifting his eyes over from where he stood at ease, James saw the launch bay doors open and a figure march neatly before them. It was Lieutenant Zara 'Sofid, though it took James a double take to recognise her. She looked completely different out of combat gear. Dressed immaculately, she wore an ornamental looking tunic with a skirt, or hip-scarf, decorated at the trims with golden threads and pendants. She looked like a dancer, or a priestess of sorts.
And it seemed she had been crying.
There were tear tracks down her mandibles despite the brave face she put on. And as she positioned herself before the attendees and spoke, there was a noticeable break in her voice.
"In honour of those lost on Halo." Her head turned and her hand waved over the coffin laying in the missile tracks for launch tube nine. "In the year I have fought for the UNSC I have met many humans, and I have learned plenty about them. And not just about the things that make humans, but I have discovered what it is to be human. I have learned that to be human is to be courageous, dedicated, and defiant. Qualities I respect... qualities I have come to love.
"Master Chief Petty Officer Nathan Matthews. Those who knew him better, knew him as 'Scruffy.' Of all the souls I have had the privilege to serve with, his was the most..." her voice broke and her mandibles twisted awkwardly. James saw a fresh tear blinked away before Zara took a deep shuddering breath. "His was the most human." Her mandibles twitched as she fought away more tears.
Looking down over her, Captain Reynolds snapped to attention, for possibly the first time in his military career looking and acting like an immaculate navy officer. "Attention!" he commanded.
There was no resistance to the order. Even James reacted with admirable professionalism, and failed to stumble over his own feet as he stood to attention. As one the watchers stomped to attention with a rap of polished boots... James was the exception as his civilian trainers made comparatively no noise whatsoever.
With his arms neatly by his side, feet next to each other and his back straight, chin high, James let his eyes follow the sleek black coffin as it slid along the tracks and was smoothly loaded into the missile launcher with a metallic 'clack!' The locks clamped into place and the firing protocols primed with a chime of energy that built up under the drum of the slip-space drive. Above there was a soft 'boop' as the captain keyed the fire controls and clicked the ship's comms.
"Reynolds to the bridge. Prepare to fire archer bay six, tube nine, on my command."
"Bay six, tube nine, aye... firing solution locked. Ready to fire, sir." Came an immediate response on the intercom, as if the weapons-ops were huddled around the controls and ready to jump on the orders.
"Fire."
The coffin breached hull and shot across the splay of slip-space colours that smeared past the archer-bay observation window. It breached the slip-space field and literally crumpled under the sudden bombardment of radiation and instantaneous pressure change. In a puff of glittering superheated slag the souls lost on Halo were laid to rest.
"Funeral detail..." the captain paused for the nod from Zara, and took a breath. "Dismissed."
The bodies eased and turned, beginning to file out of the chamber. Reynolds neatly turned away and disappeared from sight. A pair of navy officers folded away a UNSC flag and departed. Soon it was just James, standing alone lost in the space of the archer bay, still at attention. Still staring at the splay of colours streaking past the observation window.
Zara had not departed either. She walked right up to the observation glass and pressed a hand against the pane of transparent material. She was staring, like James, at the point where the coffin had been obliterated.
James did not know Master Chief Matthews. He did not know Lieutenant Zara 'Sofid. However, James would have to be a blind idiot if he didn't see some kind of connection between the two. But what was that connection?
The human's curiosity got the better of him as he quietly moved closer to the alien's back. Either she heard his footsteps, or saw his reflection in the observation port, Zara glanced to her side and let her hand slide from the glass as James halted a few feet from her shoulder.
"Ma'am..." James waited for the taller Sangheili to turn her head and acknowledge him. "If you don't mind me asking. How close were you and the chief?"
Zara didn't answer at first. She just turned with her hands on her hips and faced James. Slowly the elite held up her right hand and looked at a silver band around one of her fingers. James only noticed it now as the grinning alien held out her hand for the private to see the wedding ring.
James was left for words, his mouth agape and staring at the ring. It couldn't be... they couldn't have... could they?
James didn't even need to ask. Zara had read his mind and nodded.
"Very close." And with that the Sangheili patted Private Third Class James Trent on the shoulder and walked out of sight.
James sighed. He was staring. Out the observation window, into the splay of colours streaking past the Sharkbait's hull. Everything that had happened since arriving on halo... he tried to make sense of it in his mind.
The human rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted. Just trying to piece the flashes of memory together into a tangible report for his official debriefing was going to be a pain in the ass. Not to mention all the top secret stuff he'd been exposed to.
ONI would not be pleased. That thought alone made him break out in sweat.
"You okay?" a voice asked behind him. It was instantly soothing, like her vocal chords were laced with honey, and that sweetness transferred into James' auditory senses.
James lifted his head and turned to see Kali step up beside him. The Sangheili girl was in her white fatigues, the top few buttons of her jacket un-done and her cap clutched in one hand. Her other hand was undoing the braid that held up her plume, letting the wavy and bouncy hair flow down over her shoulders. Just seeing her made James smile, and he couldn't quite figure out why.
"Yeah." The human quickly answered with a shrug. "Just been thinking how much of a nightmare it's going to be to write my report." James sighed.
"I could give you a hand if you like." Kali suddenly said suggestively. Without a hint of hesitation she moved shoulder to shoulder with the young man and grabbed his hand.
With wide eyes, James looked her over. She seemed to be grinning as her eyes strayed over the human.
"Uh..."
"Who's this?" came a new voice.
James half turned and saw Sera approach from his other flank. He quickly turned his head to find he was boxed in with a slim panthress on one side and a Sangheili girl clutching his hand on the other.
Kali gave a suspicious look as Sera moved closer, the two women eying each other with James caught in the crossfire.
"Oh, Kali?" James quickly coughed. "Meet the woman who's saved my ass three times now, Lieutenant Sera..."
"I'm a potential girlfriend, actually." Sera snapped in a matter-of-factly tone.
"You're a what?" the Sangheili girl exclaimed with shock, letting James' hand fall from her grip.
James looked equally shocked as he took a step back. "A whatnow?"
"Yeah, a potential girlfriend." Sera said with a smile, looking quite proud of herself. "Who are you?"
"Actually, I'm the potential girlfriend." Kali said tartly before patting herself on the chest. "I'll have you know that back on halo, James and I shared a moment."
The human in the middle only got a few words out, glancing between the females. "You know the two of are starting to sca-..."
"Oh, you shared a moment? Well, while we were crawling around in those alien ruins," - the panthress pointed between herself and James - "James was staring at my ass." She gave her slim, toned rump a pat.
"Whoh, okay. I was no-..."
"Staring at your ass?" Kali exclaimed with some shock and looking James dead in the eye. Twisting around she rubbed her hands over her rear and craned her neck to get a better look at her waist's profile. "What the hell is wrong with my ass? Is it too small?"
James tried to maintain his shit-eating grin to little avail. "My common sense is telling me not to answer tha-..."
"Too small? Hah-hahahah-haaaaaa!" slapping her thigh, Sera doubled over and let out a severely over the top fake laugh that echoed through the launch bay. So she did have a sense of humour.
Kali huffed with her hands resting on her wide hips. "Well it's smaller than yours bubble-butt. How about you take that stick out of your ass, it may deflate a little!"
"Y'know the two of you seem to have an obsession with your a-..."
Both women rounded on the solitary human standing by innocently and yelled in unison: "SHUT UP!"
James slowly held up his hands in self-defence and took another careful step back. This didn't really seem like an appropriate issue to get killed over, so he zipped it.
Kali huffed and crossed her arms defiantly across her chest. Sera on the other hand was watching James, thoughtfully tapping her bottom lip. She suddenly bit the tip of her finger and looked back at Kali.
"We can settle this later." Sera reasoned. "How about the sparring mat?"
"Half an hour?" Kali challenged.
"One hour." Sera suggested. "You two have quite the report to write... isn't that right, Private Trent?" the lieutenant rounded on James, causing him to gulp loudly.
"One hour?" Kali frowned, then glanced at the human beside her. "Okay, I can do an hour?" without hesitating, or wanting to waste a single precious second she snatched up James' hand and pulled him to the exit, drawing a 'whoh' from the young man.
"Oh, one more thing!" Sera called, causing them to stop.
The panthress moved closer and grabbed James by the collar. The confused boy watched her with wide eyes as Sera pulled him in close. He visibly flinched, expecting her to punch him right in the face... something did make contact with his face though. But it wasn't a fist.
One second he could smell the toothpaste on her warm breath blowing in his face. The next, James' muffled complaint forced its way into Sera's mouth as her warm lips pressed firmly against his. The young human could do nothing against her vice-like grip holding him in place. Her rough tongue slipped over his and he could feel her whole body press against him. He sensed every motion, every beat of her heart and every subtle breath she drew while connected to him. Their wet, warm kiss lasted for a brief ten seconds before Sera let her arm go slack. James pulled back with a cough, trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.
Sera just grinned, but not looking at James. She was watching Kali's reaction, and the Sangheili stood by speechless, her mandibles hanging wide open. "Two for flinching."
She pulled him in again, only this time left a light peck on his lips before letting the speechless human go.
"As you were, kid." The panthress teased, again shooting a sly glance to the other girl who obviously liked the young man.
"I... uh... we... um..." was the private third class he could stutter.
Grabbing James by the hand, Kali very hurriedly pulled the boy along. Sera just giggled. Giggling like a giddy schoolgirl. Watching James getting dragged to safety by Kali made her feel like a silly little kitten with a schoolyard crush.
When they disappeared from sight she looked out the viewport to where MCPO Matthew's spirit had been laid to rest in the very depths of infinity. She had the Spartan to thank for the feeling. He had given his life, sacrificed himself for them to get away.
Master Chief Nathan Matthews wasn't gone. Not really. Succeeded by the love that blossomed thanks to his sacrifice, his memory would live on.
He was truly immortal.