Chapter 15: Comrades

Covenant Crash Site

Karla tried to ignore the blank looks of pure surprise as she escorted a fully armed and armored Elite out of the wreckage of the Covenant craft, but she knew that was impossible. It was very rare to be able to capture an Elite, and even rarer for an Elite to be willing to surrender. The Elite, Holy was his name, walked out, with restraints cuffing his arms. Seeing what strength Elites were capable of, Karla seriously doubted that those things would hold against an Elite. The only reason that she had put them on in the first place was purely for show. It seemed to lower the stress of the Marines somewhat to see the Elite restrained to some level.

Karla sighed. She knew she was definitely going to deal with ONI about this little event. She didn't exactly look forward to the prospects of explaining all this to some low level flunkie for the rest of the day.

"Hey, Holy."

The Elite cocked his head curiously at the Marine.

"Yes? What is it?"

Karla still couldn't get used to the fact that this thing could speak English so fluently and eloquently while she had no idea how to even comprehend the Elite's own native tongue.

"I was sort of wondering. Why are you doing this? I mean, surrendering to me and all."

The Elite stayed quiet and merely stared into the distance for a long time before answering.

"You could say I had a dream, or more likely, a vision."

Karla still had trouble comprehending what the Elite had said, even as they drove back to base.

Outskirts of Robles

Sam did her best to keep up with the other Marines as they trudged through the forest. Though she was used to these long distance marches, she was somewhat hampered by the extra weight produced by the second weapon she was carrying.

"Jeez, Sam. Why are you lugging that thing around? I thought you hated assault rifles."

Sam felt a slight flash of annoyance and scowled.

"This isn't an assault rifle, Leo. Try using your damn eyes for once."

Sam's harsh tone made Leo recoil. He had never heard Sam talk like that, and he had certainly never seen her in such a foul mood.

Sam quickly realized what she had just said, and was about to turn around and apologize to Leo but stopped. First of all, she didn't even know why she was so irritated in the first place. She wasn't even quite sure what to say to Leo, so she kept her mouth shut and continued walking, hoping Leo wouldn't take her words too seriously.

It wasn't surprising that both Marines hoped for something to break the awkward silence. Fortunately, as if by divine intervention, their prayers were answered.

"Hey Sarge, I've been thinking."

Paccone, still leading, didn't even bother to turn and look.

"I doubt that happens much, Riker, but go ahead."

"Well, doesn't this place remind you of Sera Gamma?"
"Oh yes, Riker, this place is EXACTLY like Sera Gamma, except for a few minor discrepancies. First, we've got adequate supplies, and hot food in our stomachs. Second, we're not living in shitty little foxholes for weeks on end. Third, the trees aren't fucking exploding from Covenant artillery, and lastly, we're not under fire from a constant stream of Covenant plasma every five fucking seconds! But yeah, besides, that, it's exactly like Sera Gamma."

All the other Marines snickered at the sarcasm dripping in Paccone's voice, while Riker was noticeably more subdued.

"Sorry sir."

"You god damn right you are. Harolds, hit for me."

"Yes sir."

The tall, thickly build Marine quickly complied with Paccone's order, and gave a swift, hard smack to the back of Riker's helmet.

"Hey!"

While all this was going on, Leo took another chance to glance at Sam. Tears were literally streaming down her face as she tried not to laugh. Leo was slightly confused and intrigued at her sudden mood swing, but shrugged it off. Maybe it was just some sort of battlefield sickness.

Unknown Location

Chaos momentarily stirred from his meditation. His psionic sweeps had detected quite a few humans in the immediate area. Chaos was familiar with, and not worried about, these creatures. Though he did have to thank them somewhat for contributing so greatly to his recent successes. What piqued his interest, however, was that one of the humans seemed slightly different. Different enough to warrant Chaos diverting several minions to investigate...

Mackhall Airbase

Karla sat back in her Warthog and tried to relax. For the past four hours, she waited outside the ONI Ops building waiting for them to finish debriefing her new Elite friend. She hoped that the Elite would remember the tips she gave him about ONI interrogations. Basically, you just told the spooks whatever they wanted to hear. Nothing more, nothing less. The arrogant little jerks were pretty gullible to the point of stupidity, and as long as you knew what to say, you could pretty much get out of any interrogation quickly and easily.

Actually, why had she given that Elite advice? Karla stopped to think. She didn't know why, but she somehow trusted the Elite, even though she only met him for a few hours. Also, the Elite seemed to be feeling the same way, and was just as confused.

However, before she could delve further into her thoughts, Karla heard the front door of the Ops building open, and she turned to look. She saw three ONI personnel, the interrogators, walk out and hop into a black Warthog, obviously satisfied with their interrogation. Holy followed a few seconds later, with a full squad of Helljumpers with weapons ready.

"I'll take the Elite from here, Sergeant."

The sergeant, who was a hardened Helljumper, didn't take orders from normal Marines very well.

"This is a level 5 prisoner sir. Regulations state that any prisoner with a rating of 5 or higher must be escorted by at least four Marines, sir."

Karla felt a muscle twitch somewhere near her eye, but it was imperceptible enough that she doubted the Helljumpers noticed. She pumped as much venom in her voice as she could and quickly replied.

"Well, sergeant, you're disobeying a direct order from a superior officer. Regulations state that I can court-marshal you for gross insubordination, which will result in either getting you and your squad thrown into jail for the rest of your miserable little lives, thrown out of the Marines, or put on the frontlines of some distant god-forsaken backwater fuel dump on the edge of the known galaxy, Helljumper or not. Do you still want to question my authority, sergeant?"

The Helljumper managed to keep his face even, but Karla knew he had to be more than a little shaken. Even Helljumpers knew when to quit when the battle began to get tougher. Without a word, the sergeant made a hasty retreat, and motioned for his men to follow.

After making sure that the Helljumpers were out of earshot, Karla turned to Holy.

"You know, you could've backed me up there."

"What? You were doing fine."

Karla sighed. She wasn't looking forward to what would happen when that sergeant went to appeal to his commanding officer. She glanced over at Holy and finally took note of his armor.

"Hey, Holy. I've always wondered, why do you wear that bright red armor."

Holy sniffed and straightened up, as if he were proud of what he was wearing.

"It shows our status in Elite society, and conveys the powers and responsibilities we possess."

"Oh, so that's what it was for."

Holy glanced at Karla.

"What did you think it was for?"

Karla shrugged and gave a lopsided grin.

"Target practice."

The Elite stopped for a second, and then gave a short, high-pitched roar that Karla deduced as an Elite version of a laugh.

"I am familiar with your 'jokes'. They are meant to convey humor, correct?"

Karla gave a positively evil smile.

"Who says I was?"

Holy immediately stopped laughing just as Karla started to.

"Man, you're just way too gullible. Now come on, and let's do something about that armor before some hick with a shotgun nails you in the head."