"A day off of the job"

By Kpmh2001

The Dominion, Enlisted Personnel Lounge

In many ways, having his wounds healed and being cleared for light duties did not fix Nathan's boredom. The Dominion was in excellent shape, so maintenance parties weren't even being drafted from the Marines anymore. Even if he had wanted to, there was nothing for him to work on.

Even the swabbies are bored… Nathan thought, the long faces and vaguely irritated glares becoming common even amongst the Dominion's naval staff. It was odd seeing a vessel in the fleet without a long list of maintenance issues, but the Dominion's age proved a boon to it's lifespan, as it was older than the Human-Covenant War, meaning that it had managed to avoid many of the corner-cutting that it's sister ships had suffered from.

Still, there was a certain liberty to not having urgent instructions, something that he sought to enjoy for as long as possible. The extensive Barracks facilities aboard the Dominion held a variety of different Rec Rooms for usage by officers and enlisted personnel alike.

While still featuring titanium paneled walls and the traditional unsightly nature of most warship interiors, some effort had been taken to give these specific facilities a more homely appearance. Wooden tables took the place of the traditionally drab grey metal ones, and some nautically-themed decorations adorned the walls and doorways. Of particular note to him was an ancient disarmed naval shell, as well as an old whaling spear.

Well, at least we have a backup pool cue. Nathan thought, taking a moment to admire the particularly savage-looking tool. It's backwards-mounted hook pointing towards a more brutal era of fishing.

"Magnificent, aren't they?" A familiar Irish voice said from outside his peripheral vision. Sure enough, Mags was also admiring some of the decor right beside him.

Although Nathan had only recently been introduced to her, he quickly found himself appreciating the nautical huntress. Unlike some of his old teachers, she had a way of making her lessons on how to operate an Aura entertaining and understandable. Plus, she had a habit of inventing creative insults for those who obstructed her lessons, which was always a useful skill for an instructor.

"You know, for the way that you fight, you can be really quiet." Nathan replied, eyeing the massively modified naval cannon that she had slung under her shoulder. "Still, I'm not surprised to hear that you're a fan of the way the squids did this place up."

"Oh, why wouldn't I be?" She said, reaching up and taking the ancient spear off of it's mount. She ran her hand along the handle, rubbing her fingers together as flakes of rust came off of it. "Shameful state... if only I had more time, I'd love to restore this…"

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know that you could polish rust, ma'am."

She delicately returned the old weapon to it's mount. "Well, maybe I should teach you all how to do some proper restorative work, it's hardly as difficult as channeling your Aura."

"Heh, I'm sure we'll find time for it eventually…" Nathan said, despite the fact that he knew Mags's schedule was probably overloaded. "On the note of making things not rusty, what do you think of the Marines?"

"Oh, you lads are great." She answered with a grin. "Hearing about the Covenant made me worry that you'd be a mopey bunch, but even though you're lost way out here on Remnant, you guys keep in good spirits. That's something even a lot of Huntsmen can't do, so you've earned my respect."

Nathan pursed his lips as he thought over what she said. It was true that the Marine Corps had a reputation for being a jolly bunch, and it was well-earned, but that didn't mean it was all sunshine and rainbows for them. He'd seen more than a few of his former squadmates broken down by the war, and even more blown to smithereens. He'd lost more than a few family members, and although he hadn't actually checked, he was willing to bet more of them fell with Reach.

I'm sure they're fine… Manny's a stubborn son of a bitch, and Dale's a crafty bastard. Nathan thought.

All of the Marines of Zulu Company were apparently all survivors from the Third Battalion of the 18th Marine Regiment. Whatever battle they had come from, it had churned enough Marines through the meat grinder to turn four companies into one, and that spoke volumes about what those leathernecks had seen.

"It's uh, difficult, sometimes." Nathan decided to admit. "But it's always better to go into a battle with high spirits than being miserable. We've gotta keep fighting no matter what, so we make the most of it."

Mags gave a slow nod as she digested his words. "You know, you're more like Huntsmen than you realize. I think that once the people on the ground really get to know you guys, they'll be thankful to have you overhead."

Nathan flashed her a smile. "Thanks Mags, you ain't so bad yourself."

She gave a hearty chuckle as she turned away. "Oh believe me, I already knew that."

As the nautically-minded Huntress walked away, Nathan thought a bit more deeply about her words.

We're like them, huh? Nathan thought. Or are they just like us?

"Swish Swish Stab"

By Kpmh2001

The Dominion, Foundry

Of all of the lessons that Ben had received at Camp Currahee, none proved to be more interesting than those regarding the weapons and equipment used by the Covenant. Kurt and Mendez had ensured that every single Spartan had gotten a chance to familiarize themselves with every piece of equipment in the Covenant's arsenal, at least, every piece of equipment that the UNSC understood.

Although he'd spent plenty of time driving Ghosts and flying Banshees, he had always taken a special interest in the handheld weaponry that the aliens used. From the hulking fuel rod guns down to the lowly plasma pistol, it seemed like everything the aliens used had some sort of bizarre deviation from it's UNSC counterpart. But the main lesson had always stuck with him, even the most unassuming of alien weaponry would put you down for good, and fast.

Don't let your guard down around this stuff, it's just as likely to kill you as it is to kill the enemy. Mendez's voice instructed inside his mind. Complacency kills, especially when you're dealing with alien killing devices.

"Okay Ben, go ahead and give it a shot." Curie instructed.

He did as she commanded, and the small silver handle in his right hand grew a set of fangs made from plasma. The faint blue glow of the energy sword was truly mesmerizing, but Ben did not let that stifle his thinking. He kept the blade in a relaxed position, and his grip firm.

"Everything good?" He asked, looking to Curie's hologram for guidance. Just because it looked and sounded like it was working fine, did not mean that it was.

"The failsafe reads negative, and the plasma battery is at nominal levels." Curie said, her voice faintly distracted as she admired the weapon. "All in all, it seems that this weapon is in pristine condition."

Ben gave a firm nod, raising the sword into a ready position. "Good. Now, what was the test you wanted to conduct?"

"I wanted to try to emulate something that I learned about from Set, he called it "waving"." Curie answered. "Simply put, by applying strong horizontal force in a clockwise or counterclockwise manner after a stab, you may be able to inflict greater wounding potential."

"Twist the blade, got it." Ben said. "What's the target?"

"That." Curie said, gesturing towards a two meter tall black obelisk of darkened metal and solidified carbon in the center of the room. "Give it a thorough stab, and then try the maneuver."

Ah yes, the filter clogger. Ben thought, well aware of the dreaded combination of soot, filth, low-quality metals, and outright garbage that the Foundry produced with its trash compactor. Standard practice was to dump it into space, along with the rest of the waste the ship produced, in a manner where it would be destroyed by natural means. Although in this case, it would serve as an excellent hard target.

Ben strode towards the dense pillar and assumed a fighting stance, before jabbing the blades into the center of the structure. The blade of the energy sword were practically weightless, but that didn't mean the user could afford to skip out in regards to exerting force. Red hot flakes of metal and smoldering char fell out of the twin gaps before Ben roughly shifted the blade to the right, with predictably devastating results.

Sparks and flaming charcoal blasted from the new indentations that Ben had inflicted into the brick of refuse. Droplets of molten metal followed once he pulled the blade out.

"I'd say it works great." Ben noted. "I still can't imagine it's more effective than a broad decapitation."

"Well yes, Set did say it was only useful in a handful of circumstances." Curie explained.

Ben turned to face her, cocking his helmet to the side to show his confusion. "Wait, so is he telling you these things… willingly?"

"Well, not entirely." Curie answered. "He has a habit of rambling, and it's not too difficult to keep him going once he's sidetracked."

Ben huffed with amusement. "For all his posturing, he's quite the loudmouth. I wonder if his situation is really starting to dawn on him."

"We can only hope for his cooperation." Curie said. "Perhaps in time, we can educate him properly, with knowledge of the sciences, rather than of frivolous religion."

"The only way you'll dig that fanaticism out of his head is with one of these." Ben said, gesturing with his energy sword to punctuate the point, but being careful not to swing it haphazardly. "Their warriors raised from birth Curie, it would be like trying to get a Spartan to defect to the Covenant."

She placed her hands on her hips with a notable hint of sass. "You say that, but we're orbiting a planet who has no experience with the Covenant. If we could change Set's mindset, they could have a genuinely positive experience with alien life!"

"What, was us telling them how to generate a sterilization field not good enough somehow?" Ben joked. "I get that first contact was hardly a breeze, but we've made some allies!"

"We are not aliens, you simpleton." She teasingly replied. "Besides, we aren't even in the Milky Way, there could be all kinds of friendly alien civilizations out there for us to find!"

"I thought we were in a different reality?" Ben asked. "Are we just in another galaxy?"

Curie awkwardly shuffled her feet. "The explanation I presented was just a theory. The observations I made, and those recovered from Auntie Dot, are the only concrete evidence I have of where we actually are."

He let out a sigh as he looked down at his weapons, all of this reality-hopping stuff was way above his comprehension. He severed the massive assembly of trash in half with one horizontal swing, before "sheathing" the weapon.

A joking thought occurred to him as he approached Curie. "Heh, I bet the Split Lip knows exactly where we are."

Curie seemed surprised by his words, before putting on a genuine expression of deep thought. "I… have not asked him."

Oh no. Ben thought, knowing well what happened whenever he accidentally inspired Curie's curiosity. "Curie, that's not what I meant-"

"Oh stop trying to talk me down and pick me up, you big baby." She teasingly challenged. With a reluctant sigh, he picked up her chip, and began the walk to Set's cell.