"Alright, next question."
"What's the fastest speed you've ever flown at, and what's the top speed of this ship?"
"That's two questions, Jenkins. But I am a generous god. The fastest I've ever gone is a little over 1000Cs – C stands for speed of light, by the way. And max speed in supercruise is 2000C for all FSD-equipped starships."
"Whoa..." Jenkins was understandably more than a little awed.
"At that speed, it takes 4 hours and 23 minutes to cover one light-year," Cortana added to the conversation. "which is still faster than what any UNSC vessel can manage."
"Damn, I'd hate to see how our Navy would fare against yours. You'd have us chasing shadows."
"But we don't have giant 'fuck off' coilguns as main weapons, though. I've read the specs on them, and I'm absolutely sure they'd destroy anything we could field."
"That's if the Navy boys can get a bead on you. Our ships ain't exactly the most agile, whereas yours are like bees fed with meth and avgas in comparison."
"That's a weird analogy, Private. Alright, next question."
"What's the weirdest thing you've ever encountered while flying?" Evangeline recognised Kelly's voice issuing from the intercom.
"Well, there was one pirate named Bob Ross – all I could think of was 'happy little Sidewinders' - but I don't think anything can top being interdicted by a Diamondback Explorer-flying pirate, who comes at you, foaming at the mouth as he demands that you drop your 32 tons of containers filled with literal shit."
The laughter that followed her words was deafening.
"Okay, anyone else?" She asked again once her listeners quieted down.
"What's the furthest you've ever gone from inhabited space?" Fred's voice poured from the speakers.
"A little over 42,000 light-years from Sol."
More than one Marine let out an impressed whistle.
"For comparison, the first real road trip I took was in a Cobra MkIII, to Maia system in Pleiades Nebula, which was about 400 light-years away. After that, once I'd gotten some more experience and a better ship, it was to Horsehead Nebula, with the path also taking me to Witch Head Nebula, Orion Nebula, and Barnard's Loop. Fifteen-hundred light-years each way. Funny thing is, on the planet I landed on before making the return trip, I came across a number of containers with various goods in them."
"Salvage from a crashed ship?"
"No, that's the best part." Evangeline grinned. "Someone had actually put them there, and gone to the trouble of putting several skimmer drones to guard them! In deep space!" This time, she laughed with her crew.
"It takes all kinds then, huh?" Stacker quipped.
"I guess it does, Sergeant. Okay, are there any more questions?"
"What do you consider your most life-changing moment? Well, besides the part where you arrived here from a different universe." John asked.
Evangeline was quiet for several moments before answering. "Well, after my first trip to Sagittarius A, I jumped up, above the galaxy, as far as I could. Landed my ship on the closest planet, went on a spacewalk on top of the hull... and there it was. The entire galaxy, laid at my feet. It is not a feeling I can describe."
"Sounds beautiful, ma'am." Johnson chuckled softly.
"Believe me, it is. Hell, if we get a couple of weeks of free time after this mission, might be you'll get the chance to see for yourself."
"I think I'd like that, ma'am."
It was ten minutes later that Hyperion was making its final approach to their target – due to how an FSD worked, it locked onto the most massive object in a system, mostly a star, before jumping. As a result, they'd ended up a little over zero-point-one light-years from their actual target, which had given them plenty of time to chat. Now, however, it was time for action – Stacker's and Johnson's squads had relocated themselves to the cargo bay, preparing for the impending mission.
"Cortana, do you have the topographic data from Swordbreaker?"
"I do, ma'am."
"Find us a level enough clearing where we can land. Preferably, it should be within an hour's driving distance, or less. If not, well, I'll just make a landing zone."
"Aye-aye." Less than a second passed before the AI spoke again. "Done. Landing zone has been marked on your HUD."
"Appreciate it." Activating the intercom, she addressed the crew. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, this is it! Hold onto your asses, because it's going to be a bumpy ride!"
The two dozen Marines had performed numerous combat drops before, in Pelicans, which had no energy shielding or superluminal capabilities to speak of. Therefore, the spacious cargo bay was a welcome change.
The incessant drrrrrrrnnnnnn of the FSD, however, was less welcome, its unnerving noise changing pitch and frequency as Hyperion performed a slingshot manoeuvre around the planet a mere couple hundred of kilometres above its surface.
"We'll be dropping down to a glide at twenty-five kilometre altitude, a hundred kilometres out or less. And it looks like there's a rainstorm in the path. Well, at least our approach is less likely to be noticed."
"Understood, ma'am." Stacker replied, casting a look across the cargo bay – the Marines were busily checking and rechecking their weapons and equipment, including the four Warthogs belted down to the floor.
"Brace yourselves, people. Leaving supercruise in ten."
Following her command, everyone grabbed hold of anything they could.
"...five, four, three, two, one, mark." There was a muffled thump and the ship became near-silent, save for the muted creaks and shudders of its hull as it gently rocked from side to side. "And we're gliding. Sixty-eight kilometres out and counting."
"Ma'am, I know you're a skilled pilot and everything, but I can't help but feel that we're going to pancake against the ground." Johnson uneasily muttered as he heard yet another series of creaks reverberate through the floor, gazing through the windows at the thick, ominous rainclouds far ahead of them.
"If it makes you feel better, I was just as nervous on my first planetary landing. Ended up aborting the glide and boosting intermittently the remaining fifty kilometres to the outpost."
"So, are there failsafes of any kind?"
"Well, the glide will disengage of it's too steep, or shallow, or when you reach an altitude of about seven kilometres. You also can't, by accident or willingly, ram yourself into any stellar body while in supercruise."
"Well, that puts my mind at ease."
Hyperion shook about, its speed dropping from 2,500 metres per second to a more modest 250, 'GLIDE COMPLETE' flashing across one of the holographic displays.
"There we go..." Evangeline smiled as she expertly manoeuvred her ship towards the lush planet's surface. "I still got it. Alright, Johnson, if you want to get down to the cargo bay, now's the time. Get ready to disembark."
"Aye-aye, ma'am."
The very moment Hyperion touched down, the cargo platform began to descend as the Marines undid the Warthogs' restraints before climbing aboard.
"You guys mind if I tag along?" Everyone's heads turned to see a second, smaller hatch open on Hyperion's belly, dropping a six-wheeled vehicle that quickly wheeled about, revealing Evangeline seated inside a transparent cockpit.
"What's it do?" Stacker asked from his position in the passenger seat of the first of two M831 TTs.
"A little over 115 kilometres per hour, has energy shielding and a dual plasma repeater turret, can climb up cliffs while carrying two tons of cargo strapped to its ass. Oh, and it has jump jets."
"Fancy stuff."
"Well, on planets with low enough gravity, it lets me re-enact that one scene from Armageddon, so it's all good."
"I don't think anyone here's going to decline extra firepower, ma'am."
"Neat. So, just a heads up - whatever you guys say, goes. If I tried to boss you around when the gunfire starts, things would probably go south very fast."
"I don't see how they can, not this time. We have Spartans with us. The Covvies are already dead, they just don't know it."
"I guess we'll get to see UNSC taxpayers' money at work, eh?"
"You better believe it, ma'am."
"Cortana, I'm handing control of the ship over to you. Keep an eye out for any kind of trouble. We'll call if we need fire support."
"Understood, Commander."
"...one thing you need to understand is that to the average Imperial Citizen, honour is very important." Evangeline spoke, the word 'Robigo' still bouncing around in her mind. "For them to live with a debt they cannot pay is very dishonourable. Thus, they'll sign a contract to put themselves into indentured servitude to pay their debts off. Once their contract ends, they're free to go."
"Still seems like a system that could be abused." Fred quipped from his place in the lead 'Hog's turret as the convoy rolled along through the undergrowth at a brisk pace.
"Actually, an Imperial slaver is kept under scrutiny at all times. To even start working as a slaver requires a lot of funding and a mountain of paperwork. Furthermore, any and all abuse or mistreatment of slaves is a grave offense. After all, a healthy and motivated slave will work with more dedication than an abused one."
"That seems almost... alright?"
"When compared to Federal hypocrites who'll decry Imperial slavery while buying slaves on the down low? Yeah, it kinda is."
"So what about the Alliance?"
"Well, what's mostly keeping them together is that they don't want either the Empire or Federation telling them how to live. Each system provides the Alliance Police Forces with some of their ships to patrol Alliance territories..."
"Kelly, we're getting close to the crash site. Go ahead with Linda and get us an accurate headcount." John ordered his squadmates.
"Understood, Chief." The two Spartans disembarked and almost immediately took off at a blistering speed.
"Whoa!" Evangeline exclaimed in surprise. "How are you running that fast?!"
"We ate our veggies and drank our milk." Kelly replied flippantly before she and Linda disappeared from view.
"With you people, I'd believe just about anything." She chuckled before addressing John. "So, I guess now we wait for them to report back to us?"
"Affirmative, Commander."
"Well, could we do it somewhere else? I'm really not liking the look of that ravine right next to us. All this rain's not helping, either. We're not quite yet at rasputitsa levels of undrivable, but I'd rather not tempt fate."
John cast a look around, finding himself agreeing with Evangeline – while a Warthog was an all-terrain vehicle, it wouldn't do much good to get caught in a landslide, moreso considering the rainstorm hadn't let up ever since they'd landed.
"Understood, Commander."
Pretty soon, the convoy was moving along once more, with Evangeline taking point in the Scarab SRV, being that it weighed the least, and would upset the ground less.
Jenkins let out a low whistle as he leaned out from his seat, taking a peek down the bush-covered ravine. He couldn't even begin to guess at how far down it went. However, his train of thought was interrupted as Murphy's Law caught up to them and kicked a lump of dirt out from the 'Hog's front right wheel, causing it to sharply tilt to the side. The driver, Bisenti, immediately gunned the throttle, twisting the steering wheel to the left, which led to the ill-ballanced Jenkins to topple from his position, right down the ravine.
"Jenkins!" Bisenti cried out, slamming the handbrake. "Sarge, Jenkins fell out! We gotta find him!" That idea was quickly shot down as everyone saw more ground crumbling away.
"Damn it, we gotta book it if we don't want to join Jenkins!" Evangeline cursed over SQUADCOM, sending the Scarab's wheels spinning as she floored its throttle, the Warthogs following after her. They didn't stop until cresting a small hill.
"Jenkins, can you hear me? Report!" Johnson barked into his mic as he jumped out from his Warthog. "Jenkins!"
Static issued from his earpiece and he cursed.
"Goddammit!"
"Shit..." Jenkins groaned as he rolled on his side, sore from having struck several sharp rocks that undoubtedly would've gored him if it weren't for his armour. With a grunt, he pulled himself upright, tugging at his helmet's strap and examining it for damage, his heart falling through the bottom of his stomach as he saw a sharp rock lodged in its side. The helmet had most certainly saved him from an unwanted trepanning, but its COM unit had taken the worst of it.
"Double shit..." He muttered before pulling the rock out, putting the helmet back on, and examining the steep ravine he'd just tumbled down from. Climbing was out of question – he was lucky enough that he still was in one piece, and trying to scale it would just be tempting fate. His best bet at the moment was to find a place where he could safely climb up, retrace his way to where he'd fallen, and hopefully follow the tracks left by their convoy. If he couldn't, he was SOL.
Snatching up his BR55 from where it'd fallen, he set off at a slight jog through the waterlogged terrain.
The mood was decidedly somber as Kelly and Linda returned to them, bearing news.
"There's sixty-three hostiles on the ground, probably more inside the wreckage. They've set up a number of weapons emplacements, and have snipers in concealed positions." Linda reported.
"Concealed by their definition of the word." Kelly quipped. "Far as Linda's concerned, they might've as well been wearing fluorescent purple. Well, I mean, most of the time they do, but that's beside the point."
"Alright, Chief, how do we do this?" Evangeline asked from her position inside the Scarab.
"Who here is good at sniping?" The Spartan turned towards the awaiting Marines, and three raised their hands. "Good. Get the spare sniper rifles and go with her." He gestured towards Linda. "You'll pick off the turret operators and anyone else with long-range weapons, or grenades they're trying to throw. And I think you can guess what to do with the Covenant who seem to be in command."
There was a chorus of 'aye-aye' as the chosen Marines exchanged their MA5Bs for the mainstay of UNSC sharpshooter teams, the SRS 99 Anti-Materiel sniper rifle.
"Fred, take the rest, and perform a frontal assault. Commander, it'll be your duty to cover their advance. You said your vehicle has shields and a plasma weapon? Draw as much attention as you can. Fred's team will be the more obvious and easy target during this attack."
"What about me, Chief?" Kelly raised her voice.
"You will flank them the right. I'll take the left flank."
"Understood, Chief." The Spartan nodded, racking her shotgun.
"Alright. Let's move out." The order was given.
He was fucked - so irreversibly, inescapably fucked, Jenkins miserably thought as he curled up against a tree, trying, with all his might, to unjam his battle rifle.
It was no use. The Covenant patrol would be upon him soon. He could already hear their footsteps and alien chattering. With a shaky hand, he reached down to his belt, curling his fingers around a grenade that lay there.
The least he could do was to take down as many as he could.
As he thumbed the ring and prepared to sign his fate, he felt a hand close around his, preventing him from throwing the grenade. It was very much to his credit that he didn't shout in alert. Wide-eyed, he turned to look, seeing a big, broad-shouldered Marine kneeling at his side, looking at him with a pair of friendly eyes.
"Wait," he said in a low voice. "If the Covvies want to tangle, now they'll have two to deal with."
Jenkins let out a nervous sigh in relief, suddenly much more optimistic about his odds. "Well, thanks a lot. I'm Jenkins. Wallace Jenkins. What's your name?"
The Marine picked Jenkins' weapon up, ejecting the mag and working the bolt several times before reloading the rifle and handing it back to Jenkins.
"The boys just call me Camouflage."
Shipmaster Vamel 'Akrinee was in a particularly foul mood today. Which wasn't much different from what it'd been ever since their ship, The Errant Wind, had crashed on this planet. It'd been two weeks, and the Huragok were still at work, making repairs. Any attempt to impart urgency to them was fruitless as they scared easily. If he didn't know any better, he'd say they were purposefully delaying. Truth be told, he sometimes itched to gun one of them down, even though he would never do such a thing as harming a creation of Forerunners. Any of his men would turn on him for such a blasphemous act, and he'd meet a heretic's end.
Though he knew it foolish to indulge in such laughable thoughts, he wished that the ship had seen it fit to crash on a world where the prey they hunted for food didn't send a Sangheili to a foaming-at-the-mouth death. Foraging produced similar results in the shape of horrific seizures at worst, or terrifying diarrhoea that had even his most veteran soldiers howling for a quick death as they purged their bowels at best. It soon turned out that the rainwater was the only thing not poisonous to them. Thus, it'd been decided to carefully ration their shipboard foodstuffs as they waited for the Huragok to carry out their repairs. Or, failing that, wait for a rescue.
However, he never found out if anyone ever responded to their signal, on the account of four 14.5mm bullets that turned his head into minced meat.
Linda had chosen the next target before the casing had even left the chamber – a split-second later, her rifle boomed again, splattering the brains of a Jackal toting a beam rifle. The last two bullets found two Grunts tumbling from their turrets. The three marines were a bit slower in choosing and eliminating their targets, but they were performing admirably all the same, their gunfire bringing two Elites down.
At the very same moment, Fred gave the order to charge, the two squads of Marines backed by the two machine-gun equipped Warthogs spraying a storm of lead against the Covenant positions. Evangeline roared past them in the Scarab, inaccurate plasma fire splashing against its shields as she poured an equally-inaccurate dose of plasma back at them, the speedy vehicle bouncing wildly across the terrain.
Chief and Kelly were circling around, both Spartans using the overall confusion to remain undetected. It wasn't until cries of agony and explosions rose into the air that they made their presence known as the Covenant found themselves in a fight for their lives.
Jenkins ducked back into cover, a flurry of plasma bolts whizzing past his cover as he reloaded his weapon. At his side, Camouflage rose to his knees, spraying precise bursts into the Covenant, scything down a pair of Grunts out in the open.
He didn't know what to think, honestly. Every time a Covvie shot at Camouflage, the bolts always seemed to miss, even though he could've sworn seeing more than one bolt going right through the big Marine's body. Yet his ally continued to fight, none worse for the wear.
The remaining Elite, angered at seeing his underlings dying, primed a plasma grenade, lobbing it at their enemies. Jenkins, still in traction, only could watch dumbly as the burning sphere sailed through the air towards them...
...only for it to be swatted away by Camouflage, who treated the deadly projectile with as much care as a fly. As luck would have it, the grenade ended up stuck to the Elite's helmet, who only had time to roar in surprise before being vaporised. What few Grunts remained went into panic, yelping as they ran off.
"I think it's high time we beat feet, Jenkins. I get the feeling they don't like us too much."
"No, you think?" Jenkins chortled as he took off after his companion.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuc-" Evangeline cursed as she frantically reversed, flinching as the iridescent green beam of energy whizzed past, mere meters from her windshield. With her shields down, that blast would've been the death of her. "Shit shit shit shit shit! CORTANA!"
"Still here, Commander."
"I've got a pair of targets for you! Get over here and turn them into confetti!"
"Aye-aye, ma'am. Hyperion's ETA is thirty seconds."
Still cursing her mouth off, Evangeline gunned the throttle and the thrusters, lifting the Scarab several meters into air, dodging yet another blast of energy. Kicking up plumes of mud, she feverishly manoeuvred her way out of the big, shield-toting aliens' line of sight.
Where had it all gone so wrong, she wondered? Linda and her sniper team were expertly keeping the Covenant suppressed, for most part, eliminating anyone that tried to be brave. Kelly and Chief were making a mess of their flanks, while Fred led their Marines with enviable efficiency, calling out near-constant orders that had limited their casualties to plasma burns from near misses.
And then the two, big, heavily-armoured aliens had lumbered outside from the wreck, crumpling a couple of Grunts under their heavy feet and one had sent the Scarab cartwheeling across the battlefield with a precision shot, while the other kept Fred's team suppressed. Even Linda couldn't neutralize them – though the first few shots had drawn blood, the creatures had soon figured out where the shots were coming from, and held their shields accordingly.
"Air support inbound. Just sit back and relax." Cortana announced cheerfully, and moments later, bright red laser bolts began to pepper the ground around the armoured creatures. Sensing the new threat, they turned to fire at the incoming Condors, but at that range, they would've had more luck shooting down a mosquito with a Bofors.
"Yeah, you'll have to try again, Cortana!" Evangeline shouted as the two remote-controlled fighters soared above them, fast and low, before boosting as they effortlessly climbed at a 90-degree angle.
In lieu of an answer, Cortana simply fired the class-4 multi-cannons as the corvette closed the distance, sending a withering barrage of 125mm high-explosive shells in the hulking aliens' direction. This time, her attack bore fruits – with devastating effects. The aliens had been able to shrug off small arms fire and frag grenades, but when met with munitions meant for shredding ship-grade armour plating, they didn't stand even the slightest of chances as the brief burst turned them into a sloppy puddle of orange blood and scrap metal.
Even Chief had to admit – the ship was a sight to behold, as it swooped above them elegantly, engines rumbling. None of the Marines held back as they cheered, drinking in the sight of its impressive armament on full display, the laser turrets sweeping across what few stragglers remained.
It was when the lasers finally stopped firing that Evangeline heard orchestral music blaring from her SRV's speakers.
"Ride of the Valkyries, Cortana? Really?"
"I thought it apropos."
"Hey, I don't mind. You've got a good taste in music."
"You flatter me so, Commander-Wait! We have two inbound fliers!"
There was a brief burst of lasfire and moments later, a pair of burning wrecks fell from the sky.
"Make that none."
"They really love the colour pink, don't they?" Evangeline wondered aloud as she crept through a poorly-lit hallway, Blue Team in tow. Stacker and Johnson were left to secure as many working examples of Covenant weaponry and equipment as they could find, and load it onboard Hyperion.
Kelly muttered something to the effect of 'fifty shades of pink' and chuckled quietly.
"We've got movement. Thirty metres ahead, through the door on the right." Fred announced, and in an instant, they brought their weapons to bear.
"Hostile?" Chief queried.
"Unknown. I have five signals, maybe more, on my tracker. Doesn't seem like they've set up a defensive position. If anything, they're grouped tightly together."
"Sounds like those things Captain Dare briefed us on, but let's not take any chances." Evangeline checked the compact laser carbine in her hands.
"Agreed, Commander. Fred, Kelly, you stack up on the right side of the door. Linda and I will take the left." Making nary a noise, the four Spartans formed up around the doorway before Fred toggled the activation rune in the middle.
As they rushed inside, weapons brought to bear, they were greeted by a chorus of alarmed whistles from the seven creatures clustered together in the middle of the room.
"Easy, people! They're not hostile, remember?" Evangeline warned as she joined the Spartans, her own weapon slung over her shoulder, arms held up in a placating manner as she slowly stepped towards the alien. "Relax," she said with a soothing voice, hoping her tone would calm the creatures. "We're not going to hurt you, or your friends."
Surprisingly, the alien seemed to understand her, becoming less agitated as it craned its head towards her, letting out a curious whistle as its fellows calmed down.
"See?" She chuckled, turning to face Blue Team. "Totally harmless." Just as quickly, she whirled around again, as the alien plucked the life support unit from her back, scrutinising it with trance-like concentration.
"Hey! Don't touch that! You might..." Her protest died off as the alien, having finished its inspection, took the compact device apart with lightning speed, its four tentacles splitting into a myriad, needle-like cilia as it probed the various components before reassembling it just as quickly. With a cheery whistle, it handed the unit back to Evangeline, clearly waiting for her to put it back on.
"...Break that." She finished dumbly, locking the device back into its place. A quick diagnostics check revealed that the efficiency of its power cell had been tripled, and the OS reacted noticeably faster to all input.
"Wow. Thanks."
The alien let out another friendly whistle in return.
"You wanna come with us?"
"You know, if you'd told me that we'd get a bunch of Covenant to join us by simply asking nicely, I'd have laughed myself into a coma." Kelly quipped as they exited the wreckage, the seven aliens trailing after them, letting out excited chirps and whistles.
"Well, they're not like the rest of them, are they?" Came the reply from Evangeline, and the Spartan had to concede the point.
"True enough, I suppose. I'm still not quite sure about taking them back to Reach, though."
"Which is why we'll jump to somewhere remote and check them and our loot for all manners of tracking devices."
"What place did you have in mind, ma'am?"
"How does Pleiades Nebula sound?" Evangeline grinned.
"There it is! There's Hyperion!" Jenkins exclaimed happily as he and Camouflage walked through the jungle. Sure enough, the corvette could be seen through the treeline, having landed near its Covenant counterpart.
"See? Told you we wouldn't get lost." Camouflage replied calmly.
"I am so buying you drinks for the rest of my life, man! Let's go!" Jenkins took off, eager to be reunited with his friends. It took him a moment to realise he didn't hear Camouflage's steps behind him. Confused, he slowed down, turning around to beckon his companion to follow. "Come on, don't you want to..." He trailed off as he saw neither hide nor hair of Camouflage. "Leave this place?" He finished lamely. It was as if the big Marine had just vanished into thin air. A sudden chill came over him and he resumed his jog, faster than before.
"Commander, there's someone approaching us." Linda announced, raising her sniper rifle to her eyes, staring through the scope for a moment before speaking again. "It's Private Jenkins."
"Jenkins?!" Johnson stood up a la alerted meerkat, frowning as he saw the distant figure break from the treeline, sprinting towards them, rifle held high in one hand. "That crazy fool's alive?"
"It would seem so." Linda replied, letting him take a look through the sniper rifle's scope.
"Well, split my jaw open and call me an Elite, that is him!" The Sergeant grinned widely. "That punk must be insanely lucky if he didn't break his neck during that tumble."
As the Private drew closer, it soon became clear that he wasn't all that unharmed – his helmet sported a nasty crack on its right side, he was covered in dirt and soaked to the bone, to boot. To top it all off, he looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Jenkins!" Johnson barked once the Marine was within hearing range. "You alright? Any Covvies following you?"
"Uh, I don't think so..." The Marine replied distractedly as he jogged up to him..
"You think so or you know so?"
"Sarge, I saw something really weird happen back there, and I'd totally like to tell you all about it, but I'd appreciate if we did it while as far away from this planet as possible."
"I knew a guy calling himself Camouflage." Stacker spoke up once Jenkins had finished his explanation. "Never told anyone his actual name, so the nickname stuck. Kinda ironic, being that he was the tallest damn Marine I'd ever seen."
"What happened to him?"
"Died of a plasma bolt to the chest. 'Semper Fi' was the last thing he said before passing away." Stacker fished out a pair of dog tags from a pouch on his waist before tossing them to Jenkins. "Here. Call me superstitious, but I get the feeling that he'd want you to have them now."
Jenkins caught them, taking a close look – the two small metal plates on the chain had been warped from intense heat, but the UNSC insignia could still be made out. He nodded quietly and pocketed the tags.
Woah-oh-oh-oh, Camouflage
Things are never quite the way they seem
Woah-oh-oh-oh, Camouflage
I was awfully glad to see this big Marine
It took a moment for everyone present to realise that it'd been Evangeline who'd sung the words – they turned to look at the woman, who was thoughtfully looking at the ground, arms crossed.
"Commander?" Jenkins asked uncertainly.
"Cortana, plot a course to Maia System, Pleiades Nebula." With that, the black-haired woman departed for the bridge, leaving the Marines to scratch their heads in confusion. Johnson was the first to speak.
"You know what? I think I'll be giving that food printer a try."