Sup peeps, back at it again. I swear I'm going to find a schedule... eventually. Anyways, hope you like the chapter. Feel free to leave comments/criticisms. Shadow is a baller editor.

The Gamma students disembarked the black car. The weekend had come and the three decided to head to the police station. They already knew about James. They were up to date on all of the ongoing operations. They were still under UNSC jurisdiction and their commanding officer was Tina, whom they saluted as they exited the elevator. Their statures were rigid and crisp. Proper and professional.

Tina had a passive smile on her face and a tacpad in her hand. "At ease Spartans." The trio put their arms behind their backs and relaxed their stances. "I see your classes have been going well, teachers' comments have all been positive, and you've made some friends as well."

Nomad stepped forward, cutting the commander short. "Ma'am, when are we going to be allowed downrange again? You need more assistance in that black market than just that old horse." It's time to end this highschool illusion.

"Old horse huh?" The Beastar's voice rang from the tacpad.

Nomad stepped back in line. Fuck.

Tina let Yafya continue through the speaker."It's a fair assessment. I am getting on in my years. You three could do my job, and do it more efficiently, but you lack the public support. The people fear what they don't understand. It is imperative that you continue to build your relations and create a helpful reputation. Damon has already taken those first steps with his actions."

The medic stayed silent.

"I understand you all are far more mature than your age. Hell, you're more mature than many of the 'adults' that roam the streets of this city, but the people don't know that. Due to your academic prowess you will be allowed to fastrack into your second year by the end of this semester. You'll be done with highschool by the end of next year, just be patient."

That last part did not sit well with the Gamma students. They had been molded into creatures of action, waiting another year did not appeal to the trio.

"A time will come where you will be called upon to help shape a better world. That I promise you."

They all stayed silent and straight faced.

Tina stepped in. "You will remain assigned to Cherryton Academy for the time being. Is that understood?"

"Yes ma'am!" The three uttered in unison. There would be no more questions.

A few hours passed and the trio settled into the barracks to study or work on their own projects. Tina had left at some point to converse with Yafya some more. There had been a cold wave and the subterranean base was getting chilly. With jackets and joggers, all three had their SPI helmets on, blaring music into their own little sound rooms. Damon pondered to an odd collection of jazz, classical, and instrumental alternative rock. Nomad nodded along to punk, rap, and hip hop. Ana destroyed businesses on her tacpad to the noise of death metal and folk country.

The shit-starting Spartan pulled his helmet off as he got a devilish idea. Slowly, Nomad brought out his pistol from underneath his pillow and dismantled it. He pulled the barrel and determined its diameter. He then pulled out a piece of paper and bit off a decent sized section. Swishing the frail sheet with his saliva, he formed it into a ball and loaded it into the barrel. Carefully aiming at his visor, he launched the spitball at Damon. The disgusting orb landed right on target, squishing across the medic's HUD.

Damon ripped his helmet off and jumped to his feet. "You fucking revolting bastard!" Nomad was already halfway to the elevator and the doors were open.

"If I'm a bastard you are too!" The chase was short but exciting. Nomad crossed the threshold of safety, slapping a button on the way in. He flipped off his brother as the steel doors slid closed, laughing all the way. Damon banged on them once, having been too late to punish the instigator.

The rebel pushed another button for the first floor, he'd have to kill some time for his sibling to cool off. Pulling out his phone he texted his commander.

G213: I'm Oscar Mike.

B306: Copy that. Be back before sundown.

G213: Affirmative.

He wondered what there could be to do in a city like this. There was some yen burning a whole in his pocket and he was thinking of picking up a new hobby. Before exiting the elevator he put on a blue surgical mask that he'd "borrowed" from Damon. He also put up his hood, slid on some sunglasses, and slipped his hands in his pockets. Great. Now I just look like a sketchy large carnivore instead of a sketchy alien.

As he left the PD's main lobby, Nomad scanned up and down the busy street. It was overcast and the wind had picked up. He spotted an immense sign above a corner lot. RICHARD'S SPORTING GOODS.

Perfect. Just the place to blow this cash. Maybe I can get myself a new glove!

Nomad sauntered down the street. Most other animals were wrapped up like he was, so he didn't stick out too much. He also made sure to hunch his back a little, not wanting to properly define his figure. His hood casted a decent shadow over his face.

The young soldier entered the store with wonder in his eyes. All sorts of accessories for a variety of activities laid before him. He was drawn to the televisions that broadcasted highlights of major league athletes from around the world. His imagination put him in their shoes, making the game winning play or setting a new record.

"That's a pretty shotty disguise."

Nomad's head snapped to the source of the callout. It was his disheveled sheepdog friend, Collot. This was the first time they saw each other out of uniform. The dog wore a bleach stained black shirt that read GNASHER in flaming letters and a white beanie. In his right hand he held a wooden surface with wheels on it. "Legosi is the only one I know that can pull off the shadowy bystander look."

The Spartan straightened up and pulled off his mask. "Sorry, didn't want to freak anybody out."

"It's okay." Collot cocked his head and it took a second for the human to figure out why.

"It's Nomad." He said with a smirk.

The dog snapped his finger and pointed with his free hand. "See I was thinking you two smelled different. It's just that you're always with each other and your scents blend. Now I can tell you apart."

"Alright." Nomad's eyes wandered to the wooden board. "What's that?"

"Oh this?" Collot extended the object in front of him as if he hadn't realized he was holding it. "This is a skateboard. You run a little bit and hop onto it to coast around. You can also do tricks if you've got the skill. Of course, you can usually only use them at skate parks. Everywhere else pretty much bans them. I came in here to get a new set of back wheels. Broke the old ones off a while ago."

Sounds like something I might be into. This guy seems to know what he's talking about. "Cool. Mind showing me some? They look interesting."

The sheepdog was taken back for a moment by the question. He didn't think the human would be interested in such a pastime. "Uhhh, yeah. Sure. They've got 'em over here."

Collot introduced Nomad to a few basic types of boards. Skateboards, longboards, and cruisers were the few that he covered. The young soldier chose the skateboard because of its adaptability. It would be the easiest to do tricks on. When they finished attaching the wheels the dog looked over their work.

"Not bad. Want to take her out for a test ride? B-Street Plaza isn't too far away." Collot had a hopeful expression on his snout.

"You bet. I've got some time to kill." Nomad grabbed his board by it's shiny new trunk and followed his canine friend out.

After about twenty minutes of walking through the city, the monotony of tightly packed apartment buildings and shops was broken by an open recreational area. Across the street a titanic, disharmonic structure grabbed the area's attention. On it's side, a red neon light sign read B-STRIKE.

The dog pointed it out as they entered the park. "That place over there is awesome. It's full of activities for all different types of animals. My roommates and I go there all the time to burn some energy when we're high strung. Next time we go you guys should come along."

"Sure thing. Not sure if Ana would be up for it though." Nomad had been around his female teammate for half of his life so far. She's not one for… how would she put it? Frivolous activities? I can see it now. I'd ask her to come, and she would stare at me as if I had suggested we jump off a building.

"Oh, yeah." His furred friend looked disheartened for a moment.

"She wouldn't mind if we went without her. She's always busy with something anyway." Nomad laid his board down and stopped it from rolling with his foot. "So just stand on it?"

This pulled Collot's attention to the situation before him. "Yeah, and just find your balance. From there you give a little push with whatever foot you're comfortable with. Then you lean back and forth to steer."

The soldier did as instructed. Standing on the wooden surface, he found that the supports give on whatever side he put the most weight on. He then pushed with his right foot and was off on the concrete straightaway. His starting push was powerful and he was at the other end quicker than the dog anticipated. Nomad jutted the back of his board to the side to make it parallel to the front. The wood scrapped as he slid sideways for half a second and came to an abrupt stop, then looked back to Collot for affirmation.

"That's good! Really good actually. It usually takes people a while just to find their center." The canine followed on his board and slowed up beside the Spartan. "Since you got that down already, if you're confident, I'll show you how to Ollie."

Nomad jutted out his broad chest upon hearing the compliment. "Oh, I was born confident."

Collot snorted a little at the display. "It's one of the basic tricks, but it can still be a little tricky for beginners. It opens the door for other tricks so it's kinda important. So you take your front leg and raise it until it's halfway to your chest, and simultaneously push down with your back foot like your jumping. Once your board's back deck lip hits the ground, bring your back leg up and level it out with your front. If you've done it right then the board should follow." He got ready to do an example.

Nomad's board was already flying about even with Collot's stomach. The Spartan landed with grace and put out a foot to steady himself. "Like that?"

"Just like that! Man, you learn quick." The sheepdog was bewildered by the flawless maneuver. It had taken him a couple hours a day for about a week to just properly land an Ollie. "From there you can do stuff like kickflips." Collot, wanting to do a trick himself now, ran towards the edge of the nearby bowl. He laid down his board, hopped on, and sped towards the edge. The dog Ollied at the last moment and twirled his board with his feet in midair. He landed at the base of the bowl and coasted to the opposite edge. Now out of the bowl, Collot turned to Nomad. He felt like he kinda showed off there and didn't want to put any pressure on his new apprentice. "We haven't really gone over navigating bowls yet so you don't have to do it."

Like hell I don't. That looked awesome. This is what I've been waiting for. "Don't worry, I've got this." The Spartan did just as he saw and began to Ollie into the bowl. He started to move his feet to direct the front of his deck, but accidentally dragged the toe of his foot for too long. This caused the board to twirl AND flip at the same time. Oh shit, I don't got this. Nomad inspected his situation. If he still wanted to land this, he would have to let the board complete both its flip and twirl and perfectly time it to land before he ate the concrete. He had faith that he'd put enough force for the move and waited for his window. He thought it wouldn't come around fast enough, but his window opened up at the last second. His board landed straight, though a bit goofy, and he rode it out to the other side of the bowl. "I almost screwed the p-" PHRASING NOMAD. "I almost screwed up on that one."

Collot eyes were wide at what he just witnessed, but nobody noticed because of his hair. "Coulda fooled me! That was a sick Shuveit Kickflip."

Nomad couldn't help but laugh at how cheery his compatriot was at his near-fall. "Sweet. Know I just need to do a regular kickflip."

The two would continue to practice for another couple hours. A crowd of rouge youthful animals started to gather and watch the human. Some began taking photos and videos, while others started joining in on different parts of the bowl with their boards. One antelope sprinted before hitting a narrow side of the bowl. He wanted enough speed in order to get enough height on the other side. Upon launching up the vertical, he began rotating his entire body in the air. 180. 360. 540! The Spartan counted in his head. The short horned herbivore almost made it to a 720, but came back down too fast and his board hit sideways. This caused him to wipeout and slide on his back for a few feet. He didn't get up right away.

In a flash Nomad was down in the bowl. He pulled up beside the antelope and popped his board into his hand. Luckily, the guy was staying down more out of disappointment than actual injury. "You alright man?" The Spartan stuck out his board for the herbivore to grab a hold of. He would have offered a hand, but he didn't want to risk squeezing too hard.

"Yeah dude, I'm good." The antelope grabbed the trunk and Nomad pulled him to his feet. Now upright, he smiled at the Spartan. "Thanks bro. You're pretty cool for an alien."

Nomad shrugged at the strange compliment. "I aim to please."

Not long after, the human and the dog departed the park. They agreed to meet up on their free weekends and exchanged phone numbers. The young soldier headed back to base with a new skip in his step.

A few weeks later…

Most of fall had gone by and a deep cold had settled into the city. This was made evident by the street lights that exposed Gohin's condensed breath. The giant panda was driving an ambulance through the Black Market. His associate had refitted the boxy vehicle into what many would call an armored transport. Though not apparent from the outside, underneath the layer of white and red paint there was at minimum 20mm of steel plating, the windows had been replaced with armored glass that could stop most assault rifles, and there were small cameras connected to a miniature CCTV above the radio on the dash. The back was stripped of most of its cabinets and was replaced with padded walls and flooring. It made it a whole lot easier to transport crazed carnivores from farther away, and it was more comfortable for any other unfortunate souls that had to be back there.

He never halfasses anything. Gohin thought. He's taller, stronger, and still somehow faster than me… but that's not what's scary about him. No, what's scary is that he sought me out. He knew everything about me before I got a single word out. It makes him seem omnipresent. He'll always be a step ahead of whoever crosses him, so I might as well stand with him.

At some point Gohin had entered an area where the power had gone out. There wasn't a single light to be seen for a block. This was always how it was when the warrior called him. Guess he has control of the grid too.

"Waiting." James' voice flatly stated.

The panda turned down a pitch black alleyway. A dark loading area became apparent to his night vision. This was the place. "Here." He responded gruffly.

Gohin wheeled the ambulance around so that the rear was facing a ramp that led up to the loading dock. The store associated with it was obviously a front for a more sinister business. A business that James had become a master of exposing. The doctor grabbed the M45E Shotgun that had been riding at his side. The firearm was also something that had been courtesy of the alien. It was loaded with 8-gauge slugs, a shell that could rip off limbs just from the force. He exited and watched as a massive figure rolled up a metal loading door.

An eyepiece given to him by the Spartan revealed an arrow above the approaching warrior's figure. Despite Gohin's presence, the soldier's SAW sweeped the box like area beyond the ambulance. Behind him was a straight column of tiny, scared herbivores with their hands interlocked so as to not lose each other in the dark. There were 7 children in total. The leading animal, a mallard duck with an emerald green head, tucked part of his wing in the soldier's thigh plating to follow along. Flanked on either side of the column were several stiff carnivore bodies that the kids couldn't see, but could likely smell. Without a word, Gouhin opened the two armored doors of the transport.

A single red flood light illuminated the small padded room inside. The Spartan had remotely preheated the back after seeing some of the lighter coated animals shiver. They had been stored in the basement of this structure for an unknown amount of time. James took the ducks wing from his plating and turned to him. "Okay little buddy, this panda is going to take care of you and your friends now." James' voice had shifted from curt and quick to warm and welcoming.

Still, the mallard began to cry. The tears quickly rolled down his waterproof feathers. Some whimpers started coming from the other animals. "It's okay. He'll keep you safe from the bad guys like I did." The Spartan's reassurance helped to quell the dismay. "I need you all to be brave." Moonlight caught James' visor so that the duck could see him head on. "Can you be brave for me?"

The little boy wiped his eyes and looked back to the green giant. His new face held a scrappy expression and he nodded. "Yes sir."

"Good man." James picked up the duck and set him in the back. Gohin did the same with the next animal and so on until they were all inside. The door was then shut behind them. Before addressing the panda, James turned his head as if he heard someone call his name. They would be here faster than expected. He swiftly looked back to his associate. "Enemy vehicles closing fast. I've uploaded a new route to your HUD. Get these kids out of here." The Spartan's regular demeanor had returned.

"Gotcha." Gohin returned to the driver's seat and started the engine. He knew that he needed to move quickly, but curiosity overtook him. "And what are you going to do?"

James pulled out a bulbous M9 frag and rolled it in his hand. "Provide a distraction."

4 minutes later.

Three cars pull up and stop in the alley way. Twelve silhouettes emerge from their transports. One stands above the rest, a huge German Shepherd in a black-on-black suit slams his door shut with a growl. Some vigilante hero-type has been messing with his livestock supply. That was going to end, tonight. One of his underlings had managed to send a call for help, saying the punk was still in the basement. The dog racked his pistol and approached the loading dock.

These carnivores think they will keep each other alive.

The Shepherd motioned for a Rottweiler and Pitbull to take point. They had stocky SMGs with drum mags. One by one the dogs crossed into the storage room. Steel shelves stocked with goods in cardboard boxes were parted down the middle by a pathway that led to the basement.

They stalk a wolf disguised as a rabbit.

The two point men cleared the spaces between each of the shelves, but found nothing.

They watch each other's backs, treading through darkness with their night vision, weapons drawn.

They finally arrived at the basement door and the Shepherd eagerly followed his men down.

But it is too late. They have already forgotten the first rule of survival.

The Pitbull tripped over a little wire and face planted onto the concrete basement floor. A ping sound came from halfway up the steps. Right next to the Shepherd.

The leader looked down to see a ball with a smoking top. "What is th-" He is cut off by the fragmentation grenade's explosion. The shrapnel sliced through the henchmen who were following.

A true predator always watches where they step.

The caboose of the group, a German Maliwa, turned around to run. He stopped dead in his tracks when he slammed into an invisible wall, bouncing him back. Materializing from nowhere, a titanium goliath appeared before the dog. The animal freezed up for a moment, not knowing what to do. James brought his sledgehammer-like arm across his body before pummeling it into the side of the Maliwa's head. The dog's cranium folded into the steel shelf and stuck to it. His now lifeless body was left half standing on the pathway, half leaning into the shelf.

Other carnivores, still recovering from the concussive wave, eventually noticed James. They also noticed his SAW which began expelling a flood of Full Metal Jacket rounds. They could only watch the fire coming from the Spartan's barrel as the bullets tore through them, sometimes going through several animals due to the confined quarters. The onslaught ended when the final body hit the floor.

James' boots squelched in the now growing pools of blood as he walked to the basement. He heard a groaning coming from the lower level. The leader and his Rottweiler were dead, no big surprise, but the Pitbull, whose carelessness had killed the rest of his colleagues, had inadvertently saved himself.

The Spartan walked past the incapacitated dog. A full grown Osprey, with its beak taped shut, was in a cage. The bird had surrendered when he had first come through the livestock facility, so James had used him to his advantage. He had been the one who gave the Shepherd the false information on his location.

The Spartan ripped off the cage door and retrieved the cuffs he had put onto the bird's wings. He only had one pair of cuffs. He only needed one pair of cuffs.

James pulled the tape off of the prisoner's beak. "I'm sorry! I'll never step foot in the Black Market again!" James leveled his weapon at the hawk. "NO! WAIT!" A gunshot marked the end of the avian's pleas.

Placing the binder on the only still breathing dog, James hefted the Pitbull onto his shoulder. It was time to return to base.