There are screams and gunshots in the distance.

'It was supposed to be a simple job, they said! Just a delivery and a safe cruise, they said. Just a small step to the next promotion, it will give you the impression of reliability.' Nobody warned him about Insurrectionists attacking! This was at the edge of the Inner colonies, for god's sake!

"I think I heard someone over there!"

He didn't know how to fight. He never even liked guns, even the toy variety as a kid!

'T-the column over there, it might be a good cover.'

So when it seemed silent, he made a break for it, and nearly got shot a dozen times over as a clever insurrectionist shot in his general direction on a just in case.

"Told you someone was here."

"Maybe. Come out come out, wherever you are, we won't hurt you."

The door to the cabin to the right was busted inwards. The wall beyond it sprayed with bullets.

'This was meant to be a quiet trip, with some spare time to relax a bit. I even considered myself lucky to have been chosen to be the one sent on this task.'

Ten steps.

"Think maybe it's a chick? Could you give me a few rounds before poppin her if it is? It's been a long while…"

Seven steps.

"You know the boss frowns on that kind of thing. Let's just clean up the place and go on, you can get a call girl later if you want, after we finish on this planet."

Five steps.

The doorway to the left is checked, in the same fashion, it's empty as well. He almost wishes that someone was there, and it would satisfy these man, spurring them to go back, thinking there aren't any more people in that part.

He feels guilty about even thinking it a moment later.

Just three steps between the gunmen and his hiding place.

Next thing he knows, the there is a sound of something breaking through the wall, and automatic gunfire. Then silence.

Rukuro Okajima doesn't move a muscle, doesn't even dare breathe, as he hears heavy footsteps slowly approaching his position.

He closes his eyes and shrinks into himself. The end doesn't come.

Death talks to him instead, strangely in a feminine voice.

"Are you unharmed?"

As he opens his eyes, he sees a freakishly tall figure, bigger than any man not on lethal overdose of steroids should be. Covered completely in a greenish armor, with a gold yellow visor hiding its face, and a large rifle in its hands.

"I repeat, are you unharmed?" the… apparently woman asks.

Even the voice seems gruff and military, somehow.

Rokuro gulps, and tries to find within himself the strength to move on from his cowering awaiting for death, to answer.

"Y-yes, I'm unharmed. But who are you? What's going on?"

"I am Spartan-314. Identify yourself."

Looking around at the corpses of the two who were about to kill him, filled with bullet holes, he decided that if she were to kill him, he was dead anyway, and too mentally exhausted to consider lying for any reason at that point, he answered truly.

"I'm Rokuro Okajima, I was sent to this colony on business on behalf of Asahi Industries."

The helmed figure nodded.

"There is no one else alive in this sector, follow me if you want to live."

Reluctantly, he did so, with her in front.

As they made their way, he saw many more dead Innies on the floor.

She commandeered a local car, and had him drive to her directions, only for a rocket to be shot at them as they got near what he assumed to be her destination.

Rokuro somehow turned sharp to the right in the correct moment, missing the projectile, but hitting a wall instead.

The Spartan called "Take cover", and shot back as he did, and he heard the launch of another rocket, followed by a premature explosion.

The Spartan soon entered the building, and more gunfire was heard from inside.

Deciding that at the side of his rescuer would be a better place to be, even at the thick of things, he followed her inside, passing more dead men with weapons on or near them.

Soon the building shook. Rokuro hurried up, and having found his companion in none of the rooms he checked, searched for the roof.

As he climbed the stairs, he reached a floor, the one just beneath the top one by the look of it, with its sealing collapsed, having buried the armored woman under debris, with only the helm and one arm peaking, the rifle thrown to the side.

Rokuro Okajima was no expert of ships, but he thought that the ship above, that he saw through what used to be a roof was a fighter of some sort. One that has just fired at them, at the 'Spartan'.

He no longer cared, no longer thought about his death. Rokuro was just tired of being afraid and helpless and cowering, and frustrated-frustrated beyond words. At his current situation, at his unsatisfying work and at bosses that took advantage of him and bullied him, of the routine and entrapment of his daily life, of his submission, be it to his superiors at the company, or the killers that seemed to have killed everyone in that city and were about to kill him to.

He only wanted to spit in the eye of his killers, to actually defy for once.

He slowly crawled, taking cover between the broken walls and debris, until he reached the rifle. He then checked the safety pin, as he once seen in a movie (such things were unavoidable now days), and as turned to look for the Flyer that attacked the building.

As he spotted it, Rokuro took aim as best as he could and pressed the trigger, not releasing it even as the recoil had him tossed backward a meter and falling on his ass.

He was surprised, but elated, when the Flyer turned sideways, until it collided with another building and exploded.

Unused to such stress and adrenalin, Rokuro 's last thought before he lost consciousness was 'got you, bustards'.


He was surprised to wake up afterwards.

When he did, he found himself on a hospital bad, a familiar large armored figure from before sitting near.

"You are awake." The female voice spoke dispassionately.

"Y-yes, thank you for saving me from these men."

The figure extended large armor covered arms, almost as thick as his head, and removed its helm.

Behind it gazed at him a surprisingly young face that had the oriental features, somewhat smoothed by western ancestry, with pale skin, amber eyes and hair reaching her shoulders in the color of plum.

"They told me you shot down that VTOL back there. You saved me.

I'm Rebbeca-314, you can call me Revi.


Author Notes: I wanted to read or write a cross between Black Lagoon and Halo for over a year (preferably both), ever since i saw a picture on Deviant Art of Revi as a Spartan, in Mjolnir armor helm in one arm, and lighting a cigarette with the other.

I now finally got the inspiration. What do you think?