Private Disasters Chapter 5: For the HOLIDAYS er REPUBLIC!, a halo fanfic

Charlie: Hello one and all.

Erk: …nobody likes you.

Charlie: Correction, YOU don't like me.

Erk: That's good enough.

Charlie: Egotist…

Erk: Shut up moron.

Charlie: Bastard.

Erk: Dumbass.

Charlie: Retard…

-Continues to fight-

Church: Sigh, they never stop. Well, I know he said it would be by Thanksgiving, but then he got sick, then food poisoning. You know, the works. So sorry about the delay. Anyhow, Charlie does not own Halo, and be warned, there is once again a few lines of script in here to reduce awkwardness. If you are absolutely revolted by this, go away, otherwise, enjoy. Oh and due to the extreme lateness, this will be extended to include Christmas too. Feliz Navidad everyone.

It was a bright morning at Blood Gulch. Private Johnson had woken up early in preparation for the flag raid. This was his first big mission, and he was eager to please Emily in hopes of making up for his screw ups; plus, it was the first time he would get to shoot something, and all privates liked that.

Smith and Jacobs had similar anticipations, but they managed to wake a bit later than Johnson, but still, the three privates caused so much noise in the base that Emily and Charlie couldn't get any sleep. So the two soldiers sleepily got up and dressed after enduring about an hour of clamor from the excited rookies.

Emily was still yawning when she briefed the troop. Johnson, Smith and Jacobs were to defend the base under the direction of Corporal Charlie while she snuck in and swiped the flag. The reds outnumbered them considerably, but Emily assured them that their skill level was below average.

"Don't worry men," She said. "The reds, unlike us, are a bit selective about soldiers. Only those deemed worthy are sent to real battlefields like Sidewinder."

"What happens to the rejects?" Smith asked curiously.

"They get sent here to be 'processed'." Emily answered calmly.

The Blue privates all shuddered. They all had a pretty good idea what "processed" means and who the "processor" was. They all sat rigid throughout the rest of the briefing. By the time Emily was done, the sun had risen. She turned to her men and passed out snipers and assault rifles.

"Good luck men, and hope you don't die."

The rookies all nodded nervously before following Charlie to the top of Blue base. Once on top of the base, each man raised his sniper and looked across the wasteland towards the Red base.

Patric got up before dawn at Red base. He was always excited on raid days; the prospect of killing gives him life. Fortunately for him, his rookies were equally excited, with the exception of his old buddy and now supply sergeant Chris, everyone was up just as early as he was. Patric took advantage of the extra hours before the raid to teach his rookies one of his favorite maneuvers, well, as long as he wasn't the one doing it.

"Men, I'm going to teach you the terrorist charge."

Patric's privates all listened attentively, eager to learn ways of destroying people.

"It is a very simple concept," Patric continued. "All you need to do is rush towards the enemy with either an explosive, rocket launcher, or fast firing sub-machine gun, get within range, and fire wildly at your enemy while yelling at the top of your lungs 'FOR THE REPUBLIC!!!' Is that clear men?"

All the privates nodded.

"Good, unfortunately, I need one of you guys to guard the base against blue intruders. So you'll have to draw straws." Patric said.

The privates soon began to draw straws, and soon after, the loser, Private Peters, grumbled forward to accept the post of defending the fort. After Patric stationed Peters near the supply post where he relocated the flag to, he gathered his men and led them on to battle.

Back at Blue base, Charlie was checking inventory when one of the privates screamed. He quickly dropped his notepad and ran over to the rookie with the sniper rifle.

"What's wrong?" He quickly asked.

"The Reds are charging!" Private Johnson replied shakily.

Charlie's mouth formed a grim line. "Well, the party's about to start. Lets give them a warm welcome." He joked slightly before arming his shotgun.

Just then Smith called out. "They're firing!!!"

Sure enough, poorly aimed bullets and rocket charges slammed into the cliff behind the base.

"What the hell are they doing?!" Charlie asked Smith incredulously. "They're not even aiming for anything!"

"I think that's the point sir!" Smith yelled back from his post. "They seem to be charging at us while firing wildly and yelling some kind of weird phrase."

"What are they yelling?" The corporal asked.

"Umm… it sound's like-" Smith began before a loud shout interrupted him

"FOR THE REPUBLIC!!!"

"Yeah…that." Smith finished.

"Well, looks like Patric taught them the suicide charge." Charlie sighed. "They aren't gonna hit jack the way they're firing, so just keep low and shoot back."

He then armed a sniper rifle and took out the lead Red soldier. Next to him, the bang of snipers firing rang out. Charlie sighed, the raid will probably cost both sides all their rookies. He wished that for once these flag raids could be a bit cleaner. Then he aimed and shot another Red private dead.

Private Peters stood indignantly at the entrance of the rickety tent Patric set up as a supply depot. For some reason, Patric wanted the flag moved there too, so now if Peters wanted ammo, he needed to request it from the new supply sergeant, Chris. Peters looked into the tent to see Private Liang play his gameboy. He sighed, the man took war as seriously as an old Chinese lady would take football.

Just then Peters saw a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. He immediately turned, aimed and fired at the flash of color. One clip later, he discovered that he just perforated a bush. Peters sighed. The boredom was so thick, he could've cut it with a knife. He leaned against the tent. It was gonna be a long day.

Minutes later, Peters saw something else. A flash of blue, and a mess of hair. He puzzled. There weren't any female personnel on the Red team, and there sure as hell weren't any towns nearby. He decided to investigate. He approached the spot where he saw the movement and inspected the area. Sure enough, he found a long strand of dark hair. He gulped, remembering that the drill sergeant on the Blue squad was female. Slowly, he reached for his extra clips of ammunition, only to find that they were missing. Peters began to panic, and suddenly, he broke for the supply tent, hoping to get some ammo before it was too late.

Unfortunately for Peters, the person whom that strand of hair belongs to sensed his panic. She silently followed him, until she accidentally snapped a twig. Hearing the snap, Peters broke for the tent. Emily cursed herself for it, decided to screw the covert detail, drew her assault rifle, and chased after Peters like a hawk after a sparrow.

Peters raced to the entrance of the supply tent screaming at the top of his lungs.

"I NEED AMMO!!!"

Chris threw him an annoyed look. "Yeah, and I need earplugs, leave me alone."

"WHAT?! COME ON MAN!!!" Peters was getting desperate. "She'll be here any minute!"

"Good, then ask her for ammo." Chris replied, not really paying attention.

"Dude, seriously, she's kil- AHHH!!!!!!" Peters' sentence was cut short as rifle fire filled the air.

Chris looked up a bit annoyed. "Dude, shut-…oh you're dead…meh, oh well." He said, not really caring before going back to his game

Emily stepped over the dead Red soldier shaking her head. The man barely put up a fight after dumbly wasting all his ammo. She walked into the tent, curious to see what Patric had put in it. When she stepped in, she was surprised to see piles of supplies, ammunition, spam, and even the flag. Emily smiled. There was only one private guarding the flag, and he wasn't even paying attention; hell, he wasn't even armed. It was time to get her Lieutenant's bar back.

Emily stepped up to the lone red private and cleared her throat.

"Ahem…"

Chris groaned. "Take a number dude, I'm busy."

"Excuse me?" A feminine voice asked.

"I said I'm…wait a minute." Chris froze. "I could've sworn there weren't any girls on the Red team…so that means."

Chris gulped and looked up into the face of death.

"AHHH!!! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME MA'AM!!!" He groveled.

The Blue sergeant smiled and raised her rifle. "Right…and so in the immortal words of your own CO, any last words?"

Chris started to sob. "Please don't kill me miss, I got a wife and three kids back home! They're depending on me and my small salary to support them. Please spare me."

Emily's features softened. Soon, she started to cry too. "…that's…SO SAD!!!"

Chris looked up, surprised to see that his little lie worked. The famed Blue killer sergeant was brawling her eyes out.

"Miss?"

"…sniff, go, just go." Emily sobbed.

"Umm…okay." Chris said, shakily before running out of the depot and into the Red base for protection.

Emily stood there, sobbing lightly, before coming to her senses.

"Sniff, such a young kid, already a wife and three ki-…"

Emily froze. "Oh that bastard, he didn't even have a wedding ring!"

She cursed her self once again for being so soft hearted when hearing sad stories. But she decided not to let it phase her. She'll get her chance to kill that Red private, but now she needed to flag, so she quickly walked across the base and reached for the shiny pole with a bright red flag attached to it.

Back at Blue base, Charlie groaned. The Red privates were all dead, yet Patric managed to slip past him and his rookies. He had Johnson, Smith, and Jacob comb the base for the Red menace, but it's been a while now and still no sign of Patric. Charlie was about to give up when a loud explosion ripped through the hall way. He gasped. It came from the flag room.

Charlie raced towards the flag room, hoping that the explosion wasn't one of the privates getting blown into pieces. Along the way, he managed to collect Smith and Johnson, but Jacobs was nowhere to be found. Charlie entered the flag room expecting the worst. Sure enough, the stench of burnt flesh attacked his nostrils as soon as he stepped into the room. Body parts littered the floor, and sure enough, Jacob's dog tag was among the rubble. Charlie sighed. Another casualty, meaning they were down to two privates, just below the minimum, meaning he had to requisite for more. Charlie groaned, more young men to give their lives.

Johnson and Smith refrained from puking, although they really wanted to. The two looked up to see the flag missing. They attempted to alert the corporal, but surprisingly, he already knew.

Charlie held out a headset. "This thing gives me updates. When Patric took the flag, it told me."

Johnson and Smith nodded slowly before getting out the stuff to clean the mess. Charlie wrapped Jacob's dog tag in a piece of cloth and put it aside before helping the two scrub down the base.

Patric stepped out of the Blue base laughing, and holding the flag. "AHAHH!!! Sweet, I got the flag AND I killed a newbie. This is one of the best days of my-"

Just then, he was interrupted by his headset.

"Blue team has the flag."

"Ahh son of a bitch…" He cursed. "This ALWAYS happens. I get the flag, she gets the flag."

Patric grumbled all the way back to Red base. When he walked in, he was outraged to see Chris cowering in fear under his sheets.

"WHAT THE HELL CHRIS?!"

Chris looked up to see his old buddy and was overjoyed. "Oh Patric! It was so scary! That creepy lady came in and threatened me with a gun, and she killed Peters, and she almost killed me…and" Chris noticed the scowl on Patric's face. "And you aren't happy about the flag right?"

"What the hell do you think?!" Patric screamed.

"Calm down." Chris said. "We can always go get it back."

"Chris…what did I just spend an entire morning doing?"

"Getting their flag?"

"Right, now I can't do anything with this flag until I get our flag back, and Emily can't do anything until she gets her flag back. So now, instead of us raiding them to get their flag and them raiding us to get our flag, we have to raid again to get our flag back and they have to raid to get their flag back."

"And your point is?"

"Because you FAILED to protect the flag, we're NO DIFFERENT FROM WHEN WE STARTED OUT!!!"

"Ahh, I see."

"And now I don't have any newbies to help me, so you're gonna requisite for more." Patric said while taking out a huge stack of papers. "Start by filling out these pages."

"ALL THIS?!" Chris exclaimed. "There must be a thousand pages in there."

"A thousand and twenty-five to be exact, better start working fast." Patric replied tossing Chris the flag. "And hold this, I need to go take a shower."

With that Patric walked off towards the shower leaving a very distraught Chris to fill out requisite forms.

Emily returned to Blue base smiling a bit. She was even humming a happy little tune. Charlie, Johnson and Smith, who were expecting a very angry sergeant, were surprised, and a bit unnerved. Emily was NEVER this cheerful. When she gave everyone a hug and the rest of the afternoon off, everyone knew there was something wrong.

"Either a) she stole some Prozac from the Red base and got high off that or b) the covenant abducted her and replaced her with some evil duplicate." Charlie reasoned with the privates. "I vote b."

Smith and Johnson laughed a little at the joke the corporal made. But something was seriously wrong with Emily, she was a little too happy to be normal. Sure she got the flag, but then Patric also has their flag. So the positions haven't switched. At best Charlie had expected her to be calm, but this was too much.

Just then, Emily walked into the room. "Charlie, could you requisite some more privates?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm about to." Charlie replied before picking up the phone. He loved the fact that all he needed to do was make a call to requisite rookies. No forms, no hassle, he loved it."

Phone: Hello, welcome to Blue Command's automated phone service. For mission updates, please press one, for vehicle repairs, please press two, for location confirmations, please press three, for reinforcements, please press four.

Charlie punched in four.

Phone: You have requested for reinforcements. To hire freelancers, please press one, to requisite for more privates, please press two.

Charlie punched in two.

Phone: Please stay on the line as we get a representative to help you.

Charlie waited for what seemed like centuries before an operator went on.

"Hello, Blue Command private requisite center. Name, rank, serial number, and location please."

"Wu, Charlie, Corporal, 09167832, Blood Gulch." Charlie replied rolling his eyes.

"Ahh, okay, so how did the last batch we sent you two days ago die?"

"Well," Charlie began. "Two got sniped in the head, three were blown to pieces, and another one was eaten by koi fish."

"KOI FISH?!" The receiver screamed incredulously. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"

"You're new around here aren't you?" Charlie said calmly.

"Uhh, yes sir. Private Matthews, just started working here yesterday sir." The private on the line replied nervously.

"Ahh, well you see, it's a long story, but we have a moat here at blood gulch, and lets just say the koi our CO raises there developed a taste for human flesh." Charlie replied.

Over the line, Charlie could hear the private stutter a bit. He was obviously new in this business. The corporal sighed. He wished that young men didn't have to be sent into this god-awful civil war.

"Umm…o-okay sir. We'll get the next batch out to you by tomorrow."

"Excellent." Charlie said. "Thank you private."

Then he hung up and looked at Johnson and Smith. The three men laughed. The place was horrible, but it had it's memories. Besides, Thanksgiving was almost here, and nothing could ruin the Turkey Day spirit out of men. NOTHING.

The days went by, and pretty soon, it was the day before Thanksgiving. Both Blue and Red command have been slacking off, so neither teams received reinforcements until that day. Unfortunately for Charlie, Johnson and Smith, Emily's mood reverted a bit once the new shipment of newbs arrived. As the three men waited for the new recruits, their commanding officer was pacing inside, muttering random angry phrases and reacting to everything rather peevishly.

The new recruits descended the dropship rather nervously, but the sight of three warm faces relaxed them a little. Plus the moat filled with Koi fish definitely improved the spirits of the men. Unfortunately, the spirited mood was soon destroyed as the recruits walked into the base to meet their royally pissed CO. Charlie, Johnson and Smith had no idea as to why Emily was suddenly pissed. However, soon they figured out.

"All right punks." Emily growled to the new privates. "Listen up. This ain't no walk in the park. I expect 210 from each and every single one of you. Slackers WILL be punished. GOT IT?!"

The privates all shuddered and nodded obediently.

"All right. Since stupid Blue command gave me you fools today, and completely ignored my needs, I'll be basically pissed the entire time! So either stay out of my way, or be shot. Corporal Wu has your assignments. NOW GET OUTTA MY SIGHT!"

Charlie blinked. Emily never addressed him by his last name, but he finally figured it out. Blue command apparently ignored Emily's achievements and didn't give her a promotion. Charlie sighed. He had hoped that her mood would keep up for the new privates, but now it was just a lost dream. With Thanksgiving coming up soon, he just hoped that HE would live to see the Christmas snow.

The rookies were rather relieved to see that their brutal CO wasn't going to be training them yet. So their spirits were a bit brighter when they gathered at the top of Blue base for their afternoon session.

Charlie showed up at the top with Johnson and Smith. Since the two survived the first few days, they were promoted…well sort of, instead of Privates they were "Private First Class"es. Personally, the corporal had no idea why that rank even existed, but the army moves in mysterious ways. He faced the new recruits and had his two old timers join them.

"Okay guys." He said, addressing everyone. "Sorry for Emily's cruddy attitude right now, but she's kinda pissed 'cause she didn't get her promotion… you know how it goes right?"

The privates all shared a good laugh and nodded.

"Okay, today's really simple. Since tomorrow's Thanksgiving, I'm only gonna give you advise on how to survive past the holidays." Charlie continued. "Starting today, until tomorrow, NONE of you are to be outside the base…PERIOD."

"Why?" The privates all asked.

"Well…umm…" Charlie stumbled, not sure of what to say.

-FLASHBACK-

Charlie: Hey Emily, what's going on?

Emily: …He's got Joey.

Charlie: What? Wait…he never takes prisoners alive.

Emily: Oh he won't be alive for long…here -hands over sniper rifle-

Charlie: Hmm? -looks-…oh…my…dear…lord…

Patric: Well well well, what was your name again private?

Joey: Joey.

Patric: Joey. Well it's your lucky day. You get to provide entertainment for me.

Joey: How do I do that sir?

Patric: You're gonna be the fireworks.

Joey: WHAT?!

Patric: Yes, I know it's a high price…but I think I can manage.

Joey: But sir! You're not the one getting launched into the atmosphere!

Patric: -sticks a plasma grenade onto Joey- EXACTLY!!! SEE YOU IN HELL!!! -launches the rocket-

Joey: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh…. -boom!-

Patric: -turns towards his rookies- so…who's next?

-END FLASHBACK-

"…umm…lets just say if you value your lives, you'll stay INSIDE the base." Charlie finished.

"Aww…" The privates groaned. They were looking forward to exploring the canyon.

"Well, look on the bright side. At least we get fireworks." Charlie said, trying to cheer everyone up.

"Wow! Really? We get fireworks?" The newbies asked. "How do you guys make 'em?"

"Er.." Charlie said. "Trust me…you REALLY don't want to know."

Back at red base, the supply sergeant finally finished filling out the forms. Slowly, Chris trudged into Patric's office with the stack of papers.

"Ugh…finished…" he moaned.

"Cool, set it on that stool over there." Patric said without looking up from his work. Chris limped over and set the papers on the stool. Just as he was about to leave, Patric pulled out a flamethrower and torched the entire stack of forms.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" Chris screamed.

"Oh, right…" Patric snickered. "You really didn't need to fill out those forms. I already called in for more rookies. That was just to piss you off for losing the flag."

"…F…U…" Chris muttered before storming out the room and slamming the door close.

Patric chuckled, "Heh, I love doing that."

The night came and went, soon it was Thanksgiving morning. Both bases had everything decorated and a big turkey roasting. Patric waited outside for the dropship of newbies that he was about to get. As he looked up, he found a pelican descending from the skies.

"Sweet, fresh meat!" He exclaimed before turning to his supply sergeant "Come on Chris! Those turkey's won't cook themselves!"

Chris stood over the fire roasting the turkeys. "Grr… just because I lose a stupid flag, I have to do this crap…" He grumbled.

In space, a lone advanced stealth fighter zoomed towards the Halo installation. It was a prototype Red-command stealth combat fighter. Brand-new and still in testing, this fighter would turn the tide of the war. Currently, the pilot was a crack sniper being sent to Death Island to support ground forces. Unfortunately, she was also asleep.

"Red command to Sergeant Nam, Red command to Sergeant Nam. Do you read? Is anyone there? Hello? Are you there? Is everything okay? We're picking up that you're on a crash course towards Blood Gulch 500 miles from Death Island. Hello? Sergeant? What are you doing? Hello? DO SOMETHING!!!"

Inside the cockpit, Sergeant Nam snoozed, dreaming of many things, some sweet, some too horrible to imagine. But she slept on, as her 10 billion dollar test fighter shot straight towards a huge horrifying explosion.

The entirety of the Blue team was perched on top of the base, waiting for the fireworks. Emily had definitely brightened up, and was now serving her homemade gravy with the turkey. Everyone had to admit it was delicious. Suddenly, everyone gasped as they saw a dropship land near the Red base.

"What?" Emily asked. The dropship wasn't that scary, but soon she realized that everyone was looking towards a sleek looking fighter plane drop out of the sky like a brick and collide with the pelican in a huge magnificent explosion. Everyone on the roof was spellbound. After the last of the embers died away, everyone stood up and gave a standing ovation for one of the most beautiful fireworks display ever.

Patric stood in disbelief as he watched his entire shipment of "Fresh Meat" get blown up by some jock pilot in some fancy new fighter. He stormed over to the wreckage, expecting to see everyone dead. To his surprise, the pilot of the fighter was still alive, and worse, he found out that she was a girl…and not just any girl.

"HOLY CRAP! JESSICA?!"

"Wha?" The pilot screamed. "Oh…it's you! Patric!"

"What the hell are you doing here Jessica?" Patric asked.

"Huh? Oh me? I'm supposed to be on Death Island helping the ground troops there. Wait…is that Chris?"

The supply sergeant looked up and groaned. Unfortunately for him, it seems like everyone he knew from high school had been stranded here at the dump. Emily, Charlie, Patric, and now Jessica.

"Great, what's she doing here?"

"Well, she's supposed to be 500 miles away from here, but she fell asleep at the controls and is now threatening to take over my job." Patric explained.

"Whoops?" Jessica said jokingly. "Oh well, might as well help you guys since I'm here anyways."

"What?" Patric screamed. "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP! YOU'RE TAKING MY JOB! TEAM KILLING IS MY JOB!!! MINE!!!"

"Well, I out rank you! So there's nothing you can do about it!" Jessica said back, sticking out her tongue.

It was then that Patric and Chris noticed that Jessica had one more stripe than Patric did. Grumbling, the two had no choice but to give her a room.

"Fine, you can stay, but tomorrow, you're gonna help me kill someone."

"Heh, that's cool."

"Oh and Chris." Patric added turning towards the poor private.

"Yes?"

"Go fill out some more forms."

"WHAT?! I thought you didn't need me to do that!"

"Well, Jessica here killed our phone service, so looks like I'll literally have to mail in forms. Get going."

"No way man!"

"Or I'll torch your book and video game collection."

"…you suck."

"That's nice, now go!! MUAHAHAH!"

The day after thanksgiving was rather dull. Everything went back to normal, including Emily's less then festive mood. There was a massive team raid planned, and everyone was trying to get ready. Fortunately for the Blue team, with the arrival of the unfortunate sergeant at Red base, Patric has been toning down with the creepy camping tricks.

One day, Emily was out teaching some of the rookies how to drive a jeep. Patric thought it was a perfect opportunity to take her out. So he and Jessica set out for high ground.

"Okay Jessica, you see that girl over there teaching everyone? She's the one I want dead."

Jessica raised her sniper rifle and found her target. Taking a deep breath, she lowered her sniper. "No! I'm not shooting her! She has pretty shiny hair!"

Patric stared dumbfounded at Jessica. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! SHOOT HER!"

"No! She's too purdy!" Jessica said stubbornly before sticking her tongue out at him.

Patric snarled and picked up her sniper rifle. "Fine I'll kill her!" He shouted.

"NUUU!!!" Jessica shouted before she tacked Patric into the ground. After making sure the rifle was dead beyond repair, she commenced to beat the living hell out of the unfortunate corporal. After Patric had lost enough blood to fall into a state of unconsciousness, Jessica stopped, and dragged him back to base. Finding Chris arguing with the new rookies over supplies, Jessica dragged Patric into the med lab and dumped him in one of the rehabilitation units. Then she stormed out to get a new rifle from Chris. On her way out, a rookie stopped her.

"Umm, Sergeant? I have a notice for you from Captain Dole."

"Wait…What?" Jessica said dumbly. "We have a captain?"

"Well, according to Corporal Patric, we do, but we never see him."

"Oh…" Jessica said. "Thanks."

After the private left, Jessica tore open her note, and discovered that she had been demoted to Corporal. Her face fell. How could this never seen captain know that she crashed a 10 billion dollar project and beat the living crap out of an unfortunate corporal? Her conclusion? He was omnipotent. She looked around nervously.

"Captain Dole. I don't know if you're listening, but if you follow me into the showers, I will KILL YOU!"

With that she stormed off to take a bubble bath.

Before everyone knew it, the first snow of December appeared, and the date for the team raid approached. Everyone was excited since the successful team would gain glory and honor while the losing team would remain in shame and humiliation. In a way, nobody had anything to lose. For the raid, Emily had devised a near fool-proof plan, using a warthog as distraction. The beauty of the plan was, it was way to obvious for people to see through it. Since everything was ready, Emily gave her team the day before off. Unfortunately, there she met her Waterloo.

Patric, after learning of the plan from the superior Red intelligence, or lack of Blue encryption equipment, decided to throw a wrench into Emily's plan. Since he was the de-facto CO again after Jessica's demotion, he had a carte blanche to try just about anything, as long as he doesn't make Captain Dole dish out money to cover up his mistakes. So, after acquiring a gallon of pure alcohol from Chris, he snuck into Blue base, and mixed a few drinks inside. After successfully spiking over fifty drinks, Patric returned in bright spirits. So bright in fact, that he decided to feed one of his rookies to Emily's koi fish. He felt good. After nearly half a month of being ordered around by some pansy girl, he could finally get back to torment newbies again.

The day of the raid was something special. It was just like one of those old fashioned battles like the ones you see in the American Revolution. Both armies lined up and faced each other. The only thing different was as soon as the whistle sounded, both teams charged towards the other at full speed, firing their assault rifles on full auto, and yelling at the top of their lungs "FOR THE REPUBLIC!!!"

As soon as the battle started, Emily could tell something was wrong. The driver of the warthog seemed to be either suicidal, insane or drunk. He swerved left and right, not really sticking to the proscribed course. Then, as she was figuring out what was going to happen, the warthog plowed through her men, killing most of them. Patric's rookies stared, wondering if they were witnessing a mutiny. Patric just stood by, smiling, because he knew what was happening. Just as Emily remembered that she tasted a whiff of alcohol in the drinks in the party last night, the warthog rammed into her leg, nearly crippling her.

Charlie, Johnson and Smith saw their CO go down, and quickly rushed forward to help. After Charlie shot the driver dead and punctured the tires with around 300 bullet holes, he and the two others dragged Emily into the base. After making sure Emily was safely inside, Charlie stormed out and dropped around thirty fragmentation grenades to keep Patric from advancing.

Seeing that his path was blocked by a mess of grenades, Patric had no idea but to pull back, but he was happy. His plan had worked, and Emily could possibly be dead. When he returned to base, he was received with mixed emotions. Chris was happy that the raid went well and most of the rookies were still alive. Jessica was royally pissed that he had hurt Emily. Patric didn't care though. He was happy, and that's all that matters.

Back at Blue base, Emily was struggling with all her might on the operation table. She knew. The Blue team had only one qualified doctor on the Halo installation, and she didn't really trust his surgery, nor did many others who preferred to spend millions on private doctors. But now, she needed emergency surgery so she couldn't be picky, but she was still scared.

"YOU SURE you know what you're doing?" She asked.

"Yeah, positive!" The surgeon, none other than Charlie replied. "I have a medical degree from Brymans!"

Emily groaned. "…I'm…so…screwed." Before being put under.

Soon after the raid disaster, the entire canyon was covered in snow, so all battle action stopped. However, casualties seemed to continue. Emily lost three rookies getting her koi fish into takes and away from the cold, and Patric took a group of ten rookies into the mountains and returned with only three. In addition to the loss of men, the Red squad also has been suffering from massive nerve loss. Rookies would frequently cry for their moms and hug a teddy bear. Sometimes it got so bad that Jessica and Chris had to put sleeping pills into Patric's drink just to stop the crying.

Blue base intel picked up on atrocities in the Red base, including torturing, killing, mass murders, unorthodox training techniques, and illegal genetics experiments. Emily felt very sorry for these rookies, yet there was nothing to be done. Christmas was almost here and she had to prepare, as does the rest of the Blue squad.

Christmas crept up on the Blood Gulch population fast, and the day was very festive. The Blue team spend the entire day playing cards, exchanging gifts, and telling stories, while keeping an eye on the Red base for entertainment. Then, sometime in the afternoon, Emily picked up something rather amusing in the sniper scope.

Christmas at Red base was more or less a circus. Sure everyone exchanged gifts, but also insults, punches, and even bullets. Yes, casualties occurred on Christmas day too. Luckily for Chris, the last forms he filled, he requested for around a hundred new rookies, so the losses were "insignificant" to him. As the day went by, tempers flared, especially between Chris and Jessica.

That afternoon, Chris "accidentally" shot Jessica in the foot. One disagreement after another, and Jessica pulled out her pistol and shot Chris in the arm.

"You did that on purpose retard!" She yelled before shooting.

"Ow! No I didn't!" He screamed back before shooting her in the foot again.

Patric saw this and immediately broke it up. "Come on guys, now fighting. Team killing is my job. So go inside now!"

Jessica and Chris grumbled and stormed inside, but not before throwing a few punches, kicks and other nasty stuff at teach other. Patric had no choice.

"Yo guys. If you hurt yourself, Charlie is the only qualified doctor in this canyon."

The two immediately stopped and hugged each other…awkwardly, more or less in a way to choke the other rather than a hug.

Patric sighed. He had no idea what to do with these two, and being that he knew them too well, he couldn't just shoot them like what he does to every other rookie.

Back at Blue base, Emily nearly fell over with laughter.

"Man, those two fight like a married couple. First they shoot each other, then they hug."

Everyone else chuckled too.

"Heh, maybe they are a married couple." Charlie offered.

"Yeah…maybe." Emily said before returning to the party.

"Merry Christmas everyone!" She called out and everyone cheered in agreement before drinking and having a fun time.

Blue team may be unluckier than the Red team, but at least everyone's one big happy family…at least for now.

Charlie: …that…was…long…

Erk: Nah, it only took you over a month to write.

Charlie: Hey! I would have it done earlier if I could act like you! Doing nothing everyday, no illnesses, no SATs, no School, just being a LAZY BUM!

Erk: Oh it's on now!

-fights-

Church: …it never stops. Oh well, hope you guys liked it. We're sorry for the lateness, and the sorta rushed ending, but he's goin' to Hawaii in a few days so he had to get it out. Well, enjoy and Merry Christmas Everyone!