Louis Bentley and Jeffrey Tilamor both donned their space suits with great care. They both knew that even a millimeter of exposed skin could kill them both in slipspace. Neither of them were very happy with the assignment before them, but orders were orders. The ship would fall right out of the sky without substantial repairs.
When Louis and Jeffrey were sure that their suits were adequately arranged, they headed for the airlock. Normally a captain would dispatch some kind of rover to repair a ship, but the fuel leak was at such an angle that a rover couldn't reach it.
"You ready?" asked Louis, sensing that Jeffrey was extremely nervous.
"Uh…yeah," Jeffrey replied. "You know, repairs have only been done mid slipspace once before, and that was a Spartan doing that. Why can't we just go into realspace and make some repairs then?"
"Because emerging into realspace takes a significant toll on the fuel supplies of this ship. We already went into realspace once. If we fail, we might have enough fuel to land on Alpha 88 if we go straight there, but if we go back into realspace before we reach Alpha 88, we're dead in space. Stop being a wimp, Corporal. We've gotta do what we've gotta do."
Jeffrey sighed. Damn her logic. He secured his "life line." That was the nickname that the marines gave to the length of wire that kept a person anchored to a ship while a person was making ship repairs.
The airlock opened, and both Louis and Jeffrey slowly jumped out. They both gazed at the infinite color of slipspace. It was a constant rainbow of colors, mainly green. They both quickly located the fuel leak.
"Okay, Louis, get out your torch," Jeffrey said over his suit's radio. "I'll hold down the equipment, you screw it on."
"Got it."
"Okay, on three, we start."
"Okay."
"One, two three."
Holding their breaths, Jeffrey and Louis immediately jumped towards the fuel leak and began to seal it. Jeffrey finally began to breath again. He stared at Louis. She was better at her job than he expected.
"Good job, Doombringer," Jeffrey said with a smirk.
"Good job, yourself, Plasma."
Jeffrey winced at the name. "Plasma" was what he had been called when he had worked on Alto 4 as the head of a Tank crew. His crew had been known to have 25 Covenant kills, and also had employed a number of Covenant weapons on their tank. He had been a sergeant back in those days, until his men were killed in the conquest of Alto 4 because of a poor decision on his part. He had then been demoted to the rank of corporal.
Suddenly, Jeffrey was brought back to the real world with a surprising jolt. His "life line" had snapped. He tried to grab onto the ship, but to no avail.
"Oh Shit!" Jeffrey yelled. He thought for a second how he would never see Earth or Victory 1 again, and would never live to see the end of the war. Suddenly, Louis grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
"You okay, Tilamor?"
"Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you. Are the repairs finished?"
"Yeah. C'mon, I'll get you back to the ship."
Jeffrey looked at Louis again. He silently smiled to himself. God, thank you.
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Edith Dantrey held Catherine Alon in her arms. She had fallen asleep after the group of refugees had eaten lunch, and Edith felt a certain moral responsibility to protect her. Edith knew Catherine's mother probably had died on Victory 1, and had decided that she would take it upon her self to take care of the young child.
"Mommy…?" Catherine whispered as she woke up.
"No, Catherine, it's Edith. Remember."
"Oh, hi Miss Dantrey. How long have I been asleep?"
"Only a half hour, Catherine."
"Thank you. Is there anywhere I can lie down? I feel sick."
"Yes there is. We're taking you to the cabins now."
Once the group of refugees entered the sleeping area, they realized how many people were aboard the Jade Heart. Half the population of Victory 1 was aboard. The refugees found a good sleeping area, and sat down. The nuns began praying silently, as the rest of the group lay down and fell asleep.
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Private Gregory Harrison walked into one of Jade Heart's bathrooms, and was surprised at what he saw. A 20 something year old was lying on the floor. Gregory approached the man, trying to wake him up.
"You okay, man?" said the marine as Will awoke.
Oh hell, they've found me! Will thought in his drug-addled state. Immediately he punched the marine, sending him reeling. Before Gregory could react, Will charged him, grabbing him by the throat. Gregory pulled out his marine combat knife, trying to stab his assailant. Unfortunately for Gregory, the Silon Will had ingested gave him a temporary strength boost, along with a great rage. Will grabbed the marine's knife and stabbed the marine in the neck. Gregory didn't die immediately, and managed to say a few last words.
"You-worst than the Cov-Covenant."
Silently, Gregory died. Will rushed out of the bathroom, throwing the knife to the ground, hoping no one would catch him. Silon had finally consumed his life.
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Five hours after Louis and Jeffrey's repairs, the Jade Heart exited slipspace. Captain Wanta turned to his A.I.
"Winston, begin landing."
"Negative, sir. We're receiving a distress signal from the UNSC cruiser Omega Point."
"The hell? I need to hear this."
"Yes sir."
The ship's radio turned on. "To anyone who can hear me, Alpha 88 has been attacked by the Covenant. I'm using the only available radio system here. Any refugee cruisers, turn back immediately, I repeat, turn back imediat-"
The reception became static.
"What the hell!" yelled Captain Wanta.
"Sir! Three Covenant cruisers have located us! They're firing!"
"Start firing the MAC cannon, and arm the archer missiles now! Evacuate the survivors! Give them a marine escort and have them land of Alpha 88! Pray to God that the Covies don't find them! Winston, protocol is telling me to evacuate you with the survivors, but I need you to help hold the line so the refugees can get away. Are you prepared to do this?"
"As my predecessor once said: 'I'm am prepared to meet my maker. Whether my maker is ready for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter."
"Well than, to the bitter end it is."
"Yes sir, to the bitter end, Captain."