When Brad met Tamora

Chapter 1: The First Encounter

Cy-bugs. That was all I could see for miles around. Just an endless sea of black and luminous green, flying towards me menacingly. I knew I should have done something, but you know when you're just frozen to one spot even though you know you should really get the hell out of an area? Well, that was exactly how I felt. Exactly how.

Without further delay, I drew out my gun and, aiming it at random cy-bugs, consequently found that it was empty. I was out of ammunition, and at such a time, too. The only way I could see out of this was to be eaten by one of those monsters, which was something that I really didn't want to happen. Something that, if I could help it, I would not let happen to me.

I presently found myself backing further and further away from the advancing threat. Where were my men when I needed them? At the local bar, probably, drinking away all the stress that was constantly placed upon them. Right at that moment, I couldn't say I blamed them. A fair few drinks was what anyone would need in such a harsh environment, even if they were a seemingly fearless Space Marine – like me.

Anyway, I was not prepared for what happened next.

Suddenly one of the many cy-bugs came full force at me. I barely had time to defend myself before I was knocked to the cold, hard ground. I found myself looking into the terrifying steely jaws of a cy-bug, which were opened with the full intent of consuming me. I couldn't see any visible way out of this. Whether I liked it or not, I was doomed, pretty much.

I closed my eyes, silently praying that the end would be swift. I wasn't scared, of course (would you expect me to be?), but I was pretty close. I had accepted by now that my life was more or less over.

Suddenly, I heard a series of shots in quick successsion from somewhere behind the cy-bug. I curled up into a ball, and thought to myself, "This is it. I'm dead." Although, I thought further, I couldn't have been. No, I was still (miraculously) alive. But how? Who could have saved me from such a brutal attack?

Turns out I was just about to find out.

I opened my eyes, and saw, where the monstrous cy-bug had been seconds before, a pool of green cy-bug gore on the ground, as well as splattered all over my armour. I got to my feet, a little shakily (yeah, little is the operative word. I'm not weak) and saw, standing in front of me, a man I did not recognise, a gun slung over his shoulder. Noticing I had got to my feet, he rushed over to me and and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," I replied, "but I didn't need saving."

"You did," the man pointed out. "You were out of ammo."

"I know," I thought to myself. "I was the one almost devoured by that monster. There's no need to state the obvious."

"Look, I don't know who you are and what you're doing out here, but I can look after myself, okay?" was my somewhat annoyed reply. "I don't need you to help me shoot up those damn bugs to hell and back, so just-"

I broke off when I realised that there were no cy-bugs left in the immediate area. Had this guy somehow killed all of them? I looked around, and all I could see was a horrid mess of green gore amidst mangled cy-bug bits. I looked back at the stranger. Come to think of it, he looked kinda familiar, though I had no idea where I'd seen him before.

Noticing my somewhat surprised and confused expression, he said to me, "I know what you're thinking. Yes, I killed every single remaining cy-bug in the immediate area."

"Really?" I found myself incredulously thinking to myself. I blinked a few times in astonishment, to the amusement of the somehow-familiar man.

"Well," I replied, somewhat coldly, "thank you."

I started to walk away, only for the man to follow me. He placed his hand on my shoulder. I turned around quickly (I suppose I have quick reflexes) and he said to me, "Hey, aren't you Sergeant Calhoun? The tough-as-nails commander of so many soldiers who positively hate you?"

I paused. I smirked a little, and thought, "That's me alright."

"Yes, that's me," I answered. "But how did you know?"

"I'd recognise you anywhere," the man replied. Inwardly, I grimaced at this notion. I couldn't stand when people said things like that about me. But I let it stand in this instant. After all, I supposed it was true.

The man continued, "Anyway, this morning I saw, from the window of our temporary laboratory building, you leave to fight off an incoming swarm of cy-bugs."

"Oh," I replied. "You're a scientist?"

I started to piece it all together in my head. I was certain that I knew this guy from somewhere, even if I had just seen him briefly.

"Yes," he replied. "You may know me already. I'm Dr. Brad Scott, head of technology and beacon development."

So that was where I recognised this man from. I had seen him briefly a few times before, working in the laboratory. But why had he decided to save me at this moment? I wanted to ask, but instead found myself replying, "Oh yeah, I knew I could have sworn I'd seen your face somewhere before."

I was completely surprised by what came next.

"Well, I know a lot of people would instantly recognise you, anyway," Brad said to me, "the beautiful woman you are."

I was surprised. No-one had ever dared call me beautiful before. If they did, they would have got a good, hard punch in the face. So why did I accept Brad's compliment? Damn it.

I just said "thanks," and began to walk off again. I hadn't gone very far before I heard the sound of footsteps behind me. I turned around, and saw Brad. What was he doing, following me like that? Men. I really didn't understand them sometimes.

"Why are you following me?" I asked him.

He stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it again. (Personally, I didn't think I could have that effect on some people, but okay.)

I was starting to get annoyed with this guy's behaviour.

"Well, if you're just going to stand there looking like a prat, you could at least go off and make yourself useful," I said to Brad, only it didn't come out half as authoritative as I would have liked. What was wrong with me? I certainly wasn't falling in love with this guy – hell, no – but even if I was, I didn't want to admit it. Although...

"No," I thought sternly to myself. "I will not think these things about someone I hardly know." But, despite that, I started to feel a little funny inside. Maybe I was slipping under after all.

I waved a hand dismissively at Brad, but he didn't leave. He just came closer to me and said, "Seriously. Has no-one ever told you how beautiful you are?"

I paused. He had said it again, something that I supposed was true, although it was something I had long since refused to believe. I decided to tell him the truth. After all, if he was one of us, I felt that I could trust him.

"No, actually," was my reply to his question, and then I added, "because if they ever dared to do such a thing, they would have got a good, hard punch in the face."

Brad smiled a little then. Oh Mod, he looked good when he smiled. Hang on. Had I just admitted that to myself? Damn.

"I know," Brad replied. "I've heard a lot of your soldiers complaining about you, saying that you're nothing but a grumpy old cow. Which I now doubt is true, by the way."

"Well, it is – sometimes," I said, and we both laughed a little. Laughed? "Depends on how I'm feeling."

"I know," Brad replied. "I've heard what you can be like most days. They definitely didn't make you Sergeant for nothing, it seems."

I smiled. This must have surprised Brad, as he said to me, "Hey, I've never seen you smile before."

"Yeah, I usually don't have any cause to," I answered. "Between fighting cy-bugs and trying to keep those pathetic excuses for soldiers in line, well-"

I stopped. I thought I saw something behind Brad. Something cy-bug shaped. Something that was a cy-bug!

"Behind you!" I exclaimed.

Bard turned around quickly, and saw what I was seeing – a real live cy-bug, looking ready to kill. He instinctively drew out his gun and fired a few rounds in the direction of the monster. They ricocheted uselessly off the cy-bug's outer shell, enraging it even further. Trust me, there's nothing worse than an angry cy-bug. Well, hardly anything at least.

I knew I had to take action.

Seeing that Brad was now out of ammo, I shouted in his direction, "Go and get help. I'll distract it."

Brad started to look slightly worried. "But-"

"No buts, soldier!" I replied. "That's an order! Just go!"

He looked reluctant to leave me to the mercy of such a monster, but, obeying my orders, he obediently started running in the direction of the lab building. I watched him go, and then turned to face my opponent. I had to admit, I felt a little scared (yeah, little is the word if you know me), but of course I couldn't show fear or the cy-bug would probably consume me in two seconds flat. Less.

Without further delay, I started running to – I don't know, anywhere would have done really – all the while thinking to myself, "Come on, please let help reach me soon," because, let's face it, if it didn't – I didn't like to think about that for the moment.

I just kept running, not caring where I was headed. I looked behind me, and saw the cy-bug following me, flying at great speed. I supposed I had no hope of outrunning it on foot, but even still, I kept running towards my unknown destination.

Suddenly, my foot caught on a protruding rock, and I was flung to the ground. Damn it, now I really would end up as a cy-bug snack. I looked up, and there above me was the cy-bug, preparing to go in for the kill. I screwed up my eyes as tightly as I could, and once again prayed that the end would be swift.

All of a sudden, a searing, unspeakable pain shot through my right arm. It felt like someone had stabbed a knife into it and tore a long, gaping hole in the skin, and, judging by how strong the pain in my arm was, through several layers of muscle as well. Come to think of it, that probably wasn't too far from the truth. That bloody cy-bug must have found a weak spot in my armour when it pinned me to the ground. I tried my very hardest not to yell out in pain. I could feel the armour on my right arm getting warm and sticky from the blood that poured from the open laceration, as it ran over my skin and seeped through the armour. It was torture – pure, utter torture – even for a tough-as-nails Space Marine to endure.

"Please let help come soon. Please!" my mind was all the more urgently thinking to itself, as I waited for Brad, and possibly more of my soldiers, to come to my aid. Brad. What if the same thing happened to him on his way to find help? And, if it did, then why did I care so much? I didn't have time to mull these thoughts over in my head. Hell, I didn't even have much time left, judging by how close the cy-bug's jaws were to my vulnerable form. The wound on my arm throbbed all the more heavily as I lost more and more blood, every strong pulse of pain counting my final seconds. The cy-bug was now so close to me that I could feel its hot breath upon my face as I waited for my inevitable demise to occur. I had no hope whatsoever of surviving my current predicament, the way I saw things.

Turns out I was wrong.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of powerful shots being fired, as well as footsteps running quickly in my direction and the sound of several voices. Good, that meant I wasn't dead. I gradually opened my eyes, and saw that the beastly cy-bug was no more. All that remained was a pool of green gore and a few scattered bug bits. The danger was over, for the time being at least.

I looked around, and saw Brad, Kohut and several more of my soldiers approaching where I lay, wounded. When they saw that I was alive, but severely injured, they all rushed over to me with concerned looks on their faces.

"Sarge! Are you alright?" Kohut asked me, a noticeable hint of concern in his voice, and then he caught sight of my injured arm. He drew in a sharp intake of breath, and then said to me,"You're bleeding very badly. You're going to need medical attention straight away."

I weakly got my feet, with a little help from Brad, and glanced down at my right arm. Kohut was right. It was a ghastly sight. The flesh had been torn apart savagely, exposing more than one layer of ripped muscle and cracked (though not fully broken, thank Mod) white bone, the surrounding armour becoming increasingly soaked in fresh blood as more and more oozed from the painful wound. I supposed it hurt a lot, but being me, the brave Sergeant Calhoun, I decided not to show it too much.

"I know," I replied, trying not to have the pain lace my every word, "but it doesn't hurt as badly as it looks. Trust me."

I don't think my soldiers believed me when I said that. I didn't even believe myself when I said that. It was all I could do not to cry out in sheer agony, and I think they all saw that, but they didn't try to question it. Instead, we all started walking in the direction of our distant rest – our underground, pretty much cy-bug-proof bunkers. The constant pain from my right arm refused to be ignored, however. Within minutes of us setting out for our bunkers, I started to feel a bit funny. A powerful feeling of dizziness enveloped me, and I felt weak and nauseous almost instantly.

Brad must have noticed that I had grown quite pale and sickly-looking, for he stated as I walked beside him, "You don't look too good."

I didn't feel too good either, to be honest, but nonetheless, I tried hard to disguise that fact.

"Trust me, I'm-" I started to say, and that was when it all became too much for me. The world around me started to blur as the throbbing from the wound continued relentlessly, and then I collapsed.

The last thing my mind registered before I lapsed into unconsciousness was Brad catching me in his arms.