The whole ship was thrumming with excitement. Spartan Wargames were often private events on board the Infinity. They were mostly put in place to keep the many Spartan IV's onboard to the legendary standard they were held to in the UNSC's ranks. So when the rare opportunity comes along to actually allow the crew to watch them duke it out in a virtual arena filled with high-tech UNSC and sometimes Covenant weaponry, Warthogs, tanks and mechs to see who comes out on top?

Needless to say, everyone gets excited.

Public Wargames are often an opportunity for the Spartans to really cut-loose and show off to the rest of the crew. It's an exhilirating display of acrobatics and skill that completely changes the atmosphere on the Infinity. Bets are made and cans are cracked open. All too reminiscent of sports fans coming home to celebrate every November with food and the time-honoured game.

Corporal Amanda Holland of ODST Hornet Squad and her team was no different. They sat around a view screen on boxes and folding chairs. Some in full-gear, others half dressed in their fatigues or even some in their underwear. The Wargames were not something to be missed lightly, so a lack of modesty wasn't a big deal. The squad chattered amongs themselves as the two Spartan teams to battle were announced on-screen.

Honour Team on Red.

Amanda's heart fluttered in her chest.

Valour Team on Blue.

A collective "Ooooooh" in jeering tones bubbled up from the ODST's, apart from Amanda.

"Hey Manny! Isn't Valour the team your...girlfriend is on?" Came a voice muffled by a helmet. Amanda recognised him.

"Fuck off, Taz. Or I'll superglue your helmet to your scalp." She snapped sourly. The squad all continued their teasing. Saying things like "touchy, are we?" And "someones pretty defensive of their ladycrush." Amanda knew exactly who they were talking about.

Naomi Bhatia. Spartan VI-324. She was tall, strong, charismatic, devastatingly beautiful. Even seeing her in the cafeteria, her strong back hugged tightly by a tank top, dark-skinned arms; fantastically knotted and toned. She was the cause of a familiar, old ache Amanda often fell asleep with on more than one occasion. So far, their interactions consisted of briefly exchanged glances and smirks from across the way, small words spoken from the few times they interacted with each other. Apart from a few, strictly-proffesional missions they were on together (bloodshed and violence not being particularly romantic themes), her "crush" was something physical and base, but as much as she longed for her, she couldn't guarantee it'd lead anywhere, let alone work out. She wasn't even sure if Spartan/Military relationships were allowed, let alone if the feelings she had were shared.

Eventually the jeering subsided, not that she cared much. She'd die for each and every one of her squad. Anything less, then she shouldn't be an ODST. The combatants were in the Virtual Reality Pods, their loadouts were chosen and then...the awesome display of power began.

5

4

3

2

1

Deathmatch. Last Man Standing.

Naomi took a deep breath and opened her eyes, assault rifle in her hands. She took a brief moment to assess the situation. The Red Team was on high ground, a machine gun turret in the nest. She put one foot forwards, as did her teammates. The arena was brightly lit, a mettalic structure with walkways rising up above the arena and lower levels suspended in a sea of clouds. Empty space just beyond a few feet of virtual metal. Another step forwards. They broke into a run as one. She recognised the map, the spawn locations of weapons came back to her, appearing in her minds-eye. She blinked. A hail of bullets buzzed from the turret nest, biting at her shields and the metal floor. She threw up her hands, projecting forwards a sapphire energy shield. Round after round crumpled against the hard-light structure, its hue fading from blue, to orange, to a dangerous red. Then it broke and she dived for cover behind a waist-high wall. Her teammates were with her every step of the way. They looked at each other and nodded.

Now the real show begins.

Naomi rolled over the barrier to her right and fell onto the platform on the floor below and broke into a run, her boots thumping against the floor. She bent down and picked up the shotgun she knew had spawned there, simultaneously discarding her assault rifle over the edge of the map and out of sight. She pumped it once out of habit and carried on forwards, the sound of a firefight above. Bullets being spat out by both sides of the war. She reached the middle of the bottom floor where pink missiles were fired in her direction. Some rebounded off of her, her plasma shielding absorbing the damage. She brought her shotgun to bear on the enemy running straight towards her, a needler spitting rosy darts towards her. Everything slowed down. Everyone tensed. She closed one eye.

Her enemy lunged towards her.

She squeezed the trigger.

There was a momentary notion of contact between the enemies helmet and the rim of the shotgun barrel and she swore on her mothers life, she saw through the Red's visor and saw their eyes widen into a look that can only be described as: "Fuck."

An ear-splitting boom and the Red was flat on his back, shrapnel splintering the visor, energy shields giving way immediately and a red mist of virtual blood bursting into existence.

Hornet Squad collectively winced.

Naomi didn't slow down to see the body disappear from sight as the Red was ejected from Virtual Reality and his pod. Naomi didn't even break her stride as she pumped the next shell into the chamber. One down, four to go.

Then, another red rounded the corner of the walkway from the far-end, opening fire and stinging Naomi with burst after burst of rifle fire. She skidded to a halt as her shields succumbed. Desperately, she summoned her hard-light shield and backed away into the central room under the main field where the battle still raged. She disabled her barrier and went to the very center where she knew there was an escape route.

As she passed over a pair of fragmentary grenades that had spawned on the floor, they materialised on her belt instantly, disappearing from their spot on the floor. She put one foot on the wall of a rectangular inlet in the wall, she pushed herself up and towards the opposite wall. She did the same with her right foot in one fluid motion and rolled through the window and to her escape.

The Red sprinted after her, putting his rifle to his back, he followed her up the very same route, rolling in the same way. Except he rolled right over something hard and round. He looked up and saw Bhatia for a split second before he was lost in the detonation of the grenade.

"Thats two." She murmured to herself, grinning from ear to ear.

The battle that raged above had quietened considerably. She poked her head out into the artificial sunlight and saw her last remaining squadmate, rocketing through the air with a jumppack, she held a Saw that chattered bullets at an alarming rate down at the only Red she could see, who was crouched behind a heavy-duty crate.

The Blue touched down to allow her jetpack to recharge and Bhatia took in her surroundings. Spent casings and empty clips were strewn across the battlefield. She turned her head skyward and saw a steely glint. The Blue took flight once more and that steely glint flashed with fire bursting from one end with a crack! Bhatia didn't even need to look to know the Blue was dead before she hit the floor. Naomi scaled the wall of the nest the sniper was crouched with decent effort, before pulling herself up and behind the sniper. A heavy tackle and her combat knife was already wedged into the throat of the Red sniper before they had the chance to turn around. She pulled her knife out from the already disappearing body of the Red when she heard a snap and hiss that sent her blood running cold. Her eyes all but locked with the last remaining Red. In his fist was a titanium handle, ill-fitted for human hands. The edges of the handle were flanked with ice-blue and crackling blades of pure, deadly plasma.

She ran. Harder than she ever ran before. She didn't need to look behind her to know that the enemy spartan was hot on her heels with that blasted energy sword. Her legs pounded up a walkway and into the upper-reaches of the arena like a locomotive. Her minimap on her Heads-Up Display showed a red dot slowly gaining on her. Her lungs began to burn.

She rounded a corner and saw her salvation at the end. A rocket launcher, followed by a very infinite drop into defeat. She urged herself forwards, despite her power armour protesting against the exertion. She took her pistol from her hip and fired blindly behind her in a vain attempt to buy herself some more time. She could almost hear the hum of the energy sword, biting at her back like a wasp and that was all she needed as motivation. She flung her pistol to the side and into nothingness before diving forwards. Her hands found, by some miracle, the grips of the launcher. She pulled it into her chest and rolled onto her left shoulder. She found her feet at the very precipise of the walkway and, in an act of pure, brazen stupidity, she launched herself off the edge. She twisted around and found the Red still lunging after her. As if by pure, animal instinct, she pulled the trigger as the twin tips of the plasma blades slid cleanly into her chest armour. Then, everything was fire and she woke up in her pod.

Amanda's jaw hit the floor. Watching Bhatia suicidially leaping to her doom and eliminating the last Red and herself with the missile launcher was insane and possibly the most badass-fucking thing she ever saw.

Boy, if she wasn't gay before...