Working together can make survival easier or harder, how well you work together is what decides which...
McArthy groaned, feeling soreness throughout his entire body, along with a splitting headache. He grabbed at his helmet, then slid it off his head so he could rub his head.
As he slipped the helmet off his head, however, he felt something distinctly different. He wasn't lying in snow, like he expected. He was on something hard and cold.
The cave.
McArthy flew to his feet and his breathing became heavy as he spun his head around. He was right, he was back in the cave, in the same spot he was this morning. Dumbstruck, he turned his head back towards the bend in the cave. This time, there was no hand, but the light of day was still shining into the cave.
Was all that a dream? No, it was too real, and plus, he could feel the pain from the tumble before he blacked out.
He moved his arm to reach for his smg, but he let out a yell as he felt a sharp pain in his bicep. He shot his head down to see a large cut in his arm, blood soaking into the cloth around it.
How long has he been out? How did he get back into the cave? He had so many questions, but he didn't get a chance to answer them as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him.
McArthy grunted, then reached out, ignoring the pain, and grabbed his smg. A combination of fear, pain, and cold made his hand shake drastically as he tried to hold the smg, then his nerves shot all the way down his arm, making him groan and drop the gun.
He was going to reach for it, but then he watched a red figure round the corner. McArthy yelled, "Hey!" and reached for his pistol. He pointed it at the figure, only for the figure to jump at him. McArthy couldn't even pull the trigger before the figure was on him, hands grasped around the weapon.
With the figure now on him, he recognized it as the skirmisher that chased him to the Covenant base. McArthy grunted, then felt as the skirmisher was able to successfully rip the pistol from his grasp. He took a step back, then watched the skirmisher throw the pistol behind them with a small growl.
McArthy silently stared at the skirmisher for a moment, then yelled and threw his fist forward. The pain in his bicep made it difficult, but he had to work through the pain to survive. The skirmisher, however, was easily able to duck under the blow.
It attempted to grapple him, but McArthy was able to push it back, then he threw his left fist into the skirmisher's side. They let out a gasp from the blow, then McArthy tried to grab the skirmisher's head and drive his knee into it. The skirmisher was faster and ducked their head under his grasp, then it spun around and thrusted it's leg forward in a kick.
The kick hit McArhty square in the chest, sending him flying into the wall behind him. He got the air knocked out of him, then slid back down onto the ground. He was tired, he didn't know if he could go on for much longer.
He raised his head, only to see the skirmisher seemed to be panting. It wasn't going in for the kill, simply standing back, staring at him. McArthy was going to reach for his smg, but something made him stop. This was off, why wasn't it killing him?
After a few more seconds of tired breathing and staring, the skirmisher backed up from him to the opposite end of the cave. He watched as the alien slowly lowered itself to a sit as well, then the two stared at each other.
McArthy was confused beyond belief. He should be dead, but the skirmisher was letting him live. And now the two were just sitting, staring at each other.
The tired ODST took a moment to observe the unarmed skirmisher, seeing not much else to do at the moment. The skirmisher was wearing red armor, though they were missing the helmet their kind usually wore. The lack of a helmet made their red tipped feathers stand out, however, and allowed him to see its yellow, sharp eyes. The skirmisher also seemed to stand at his height, though the plumage made it feel larger.
After staring at the alien for a minute, McArthy realized it was staring right back at him, then blindly reached around and felt his helmet lying on the ground next to him, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. He picked it up and put it over his head, watching as the skirmisher carefully eyes his every movement.
The bird was the only thing he could think of that could've brought him here, but why? It was part of the Covenant, was it not?
McArthy thought about it, then an idea struck his mind. Why not just ask? It hasn't killed him yet, a simple question couldn't possibly warrant it killing him now.
He coughed, clearing his throat, then asked, "Uh, hello?"
The skirmisher perked up at him, but it didn't say anything. McArthy sighed, then spoke a bit louder and asked, "You can understand me, right?"
The skirmisher didn't reply, but they did slightly tilt their head. McArthy groaned, resting his head against the wall behind him. Great, he gets saved by a skirmisher, and it doesn't even understand his language. He's not going to get answers anytime soon.
The ODST rested his head backwards, his eyes no longer on the skirmisher. He was on edge, and yet he was not keeping his eyes locked onto the alien across the cave. It was a bit of a test on his part, to see what the skirmisher would do. If it was the one that saved him, it wouldn't take advantage of him in a vulnerable state.
After a minute of silence, he heard the sound of shifting across the cave. McArthy gripped his smg and pointed it forward in an instant, catching the skirmisher slowly walking towards him. The alien froze at the sight of the smg, their eyes locked with it.
The man's itchy trigger finger danced over the trigger as he eyed the skirmisher, trying to work out their motives. The skirmisher shifted their gaze from his smg to his face, then let out a small chirp and gestured to their arm.
McArthy was confused, carefully observing it's arm. It looked fine, then he felt pain shoot up his right arm again. Realization hit him like a train, then he carefully nodded his head and said, "Oh, my wound?"
The skirmisher tilted their head, still unable to understand him. McArthy huffed, then slowly lowered his smg to the ground and let go. The skirmish stiffness disappeared slightly, then it once again gestured to its arm, now pointing at his.
McArthy nodded his head, then held up a finger and said, "Just, give me a moment, I gotta grab my stuff."
He moved his body forward to swig his sack around, making the skirmisher take a cautious step backwards, their beak chattering quietly. McArthy slowed his movements, not wanting the skirmisher to do anything drastic, then pulled out the half roll of gauze and his small medkit.
The skirmisher took two steps closer, watching curiously as the ODST fixed his wound. He grit his teeth as it burned from the spray, then finished wrapping it in gauze and let out a sigh. He slowly put the supplies away, then as he swung the sack back on, they both heard the sound of rocks moving.
Both of them spun their heads around, then McArthy grabbed his smg and jumped up. The skirmisher let out a shriek at his sudden movement, then leaped at him, using both of their arms to slam McArthy's smg and arm into the wall. He grunted at the sudden assault, then pushed it off him and pointed the smg forward.
Around the bend, he watched as a golden armored elite rounded the corner, simply standing, staring at the two. McArthy pulled his trigger, but nothing happened. He kept squeezing it, then smacked his smg and looked at it. It was loaded, yet it wouldn't fire.
The elite let out a deep warbled laugh, then ignited an energy sword and roared at them. McArthy threw his smg down and backed into the wall, feeling his legs starting to shake. He was going to die, and he barely got to kill any Covies.
What he didn't expect was to hear the skirmisher let out a caw next to him, then it sprinted forward at the elite. The elite swung its sword in an attempt to cleave the skirmisher in half, but the avian leaped over the blade and shot their leg forward. The kick crashed into the elites mandibles, the sounds of bones breaking filling McArthy's ears.
The elite wobbled into the wall, snarling in pain. It wildly swung it's blade at the skirmisher, forcing it to jump back. The elite leaped forward in a thrust, driving their sword into the wall as the skirmisher spun away from the strike.
As the elite ripped his blade free from the wall, the skirmisher leaped onto it back and began thrashing into the elite's neck with its claws. The elite roared in anger, unsuccessfully trying to grab onto the skirmisher on it's back.
McArthy was frozen, he couldn't move if he wanted to. He was stuck, back against the wall, watching the two aliens fighting to the death. After a few seconds, a large spurt of purple blood shot out of the elite's neck, then started pouring out of the deep punctures in it's neck.
The elite gripped it's neck, falling to the ground. The skirmisher casually slid off it's back, then kicked the elite in the side. It fell onto the ground, making gurgling sounds of pain. It seemed to struggle for a moment, trying to get up, then it's body went limp on the ground.
The skirmisher stared at the body, then looked up at McArthy, who was still frozen against the wall. The skirmisher backed up, then spun around and sprinted out of the cave, leaving McArthy alone.
He sucked in a deep breath, realizing he had held his breath in that entire fight. Never before had he been more sure he was dead, then he watched an oversized bird basically tear out an elites jugular.
It took a minute, but McArthy was finally able to move himself from his position, then lowered himself to pick up his smg. He pointed it at the ground and pulled the trigger, but still nothing happened. He grunted, then threw the smg across the cave, watching it skid into the wall. He angrily walked across the cave and grabbed his silenced pistol from the ground.
He confirmed it worked as he shot a round into the elites corpse, then he holstered it and turned to the cave's mouth. It was a fact now that the skirmisher definitely was not in the Covenant, at least, not anymore. How that came to be, he had no idea, and he doubted he'd figure out. At the very least, it means he's not the only one out here trying to survive.
He wandered out of the cave, not willing to use it as shelter anymore. It was obviously that skirmisher's shelter, given the empty MRE's and dismantled weapons. It dragged his unconscious body away from danger and saved him from the golden elite, the least he could do was leave it's own home for it to use.
Now that he was no longer exhausted, and it seemed safely midday, with no snow storms in sight, McArthy decided it was about time to check out all those bodies near the base. He was down a weapon, though, and it was unfortunate the smg is what broke. But, he had to get used to it, in his situation, things were probably never going to go his way.
The lightly snow covered ground crunched under the wary ODST's boots as he marched through the forest, keeping his head swiveling constantly. He knew how close the Covenant was, and he didn't want to be caught off guard by a patrol. He knew the march would take a few hours, but he still had that keycard on him, so he could still take shelter if he wanted to for the night.
The walk was, for a lack of a better word, boring. Nothing was out here, which was strange. For a planet now under Covenant control, he'd expect something more to be happening around. Then again, maybe he was just in a lucky area. It was just a forest, and the outposts that were scattered around were small. When you want to set up control over an entire planet, you can't make every acre of land a fortress of soldiers and defenses. Some places would have to be sparse, some even devoid of any military presence.
After a couple hours of walking and thinking, McArthy heard the sound of snow shuffling behind him, then shot around on a dime. Nothing was there, nothing looked disturbed, it was just an empty forest. He stared suspiciously into the forest, pulling his pistol out just in case, then continued walking forward.
The sun was beginning to set, though this time around, McArthy wasn't struck with depression or fear. Sure, his situation was still absolute shit, and he was likely going to die on this planet, but after making it through two days, he felt a tiny bit more confident. Though, he had that skirmisher to thank for him surviving past that attack on the Covenant base. Well, he could also blame it for chasing him into it, but he wasn't willing to get into semantics with himself over whether or not to be mad at a bird.
Soon enough, he once again heard the sound of rushing water. It didn't take long for him to track the sound and come upon the stream. It was just how he left it, scattered bodies decorating the peaceful stream.
McArthy felt his stomach rumble, then made his way across the stream once more, hopping onto an elite's body to avoid the water.
As he approached the first dead marine, he felt the cold biting at his open wound, making him shutter. He needed to fix the cut in his clothes, soon, this was getting extremely uncomfortable. It may even be fatal if he's forced to stay out in the freezing cold for too long.
He crouched next to his fallen soldier, making sure to keep himself together as he searched the man's body for anything valuable. Strangely enough, as he rummaged through the marine's possessions, there were no MRE's, no medical supplies, nothing. McArthy took a step back, confused, then turned to the rest of the bodies.
Realization struck him. This must be where all those MRE's came from in the cave. That skirmisher already scavenged these bodies. He raised his gaze, seeing a few of the bodies were missing their weapons. He turned to the Covenant bodies, to see some of them were missing their weapons as well. What would a skirmisher need with all these weapons?
He checked two more bodies before guessing the rest were scavenged too, then stood up with a sigh. The skirmisher has been on their own longer than him, so he guessed they were the one who picked the base clean too.
McArthy huffed as he made his way up the incline towards the base. Once he was up the hill, he was met with the broken fence surrounding the base, which was now completely busted open, most likely from the brutes that chased him before.
He entered the base's grounds, looking again at the bodies lying about. They appeared undisturbed since McArthy last saw them, so he guessed no more Covenant came around since he left.
As McArthy approached one of the destroyed garage doors, he heard another shuffle of snow behind him. He spun around, pistol raised, only to see nothing once again. He let out a nervous chuckle, feeling like he was going crazy. He was either paranoid beyond belief, or something was very close to him.
He decided he didn't want to be out in the open to find out, then jumped through the garage door and walked through the empty armory. It was just how he left it, completely lifeless, not a useful item in sight.
The door leading to the main control room was still half open, enough room to squeeze through. McArthy slid through, letting out a sigh of relief once he was safely inside the control room. He pressed the button on the panel, then watched as the door slowly crept shut, creaking the whole way.
The room was much colder than the last time he was there, most likely from him leaving the door open. As he walked further in, he even saw the charred stick kicked against the wall.
As of right now, there was nothing for the ODST to do. He was growing hungry, he could go out for more wood to start another fire. McArthy nodded his head, knowing he'd have to do that, but right now, there was something else he wanted to check.
He walked across the room to the other shut door, then pressed the button and watched the door slowly open. McArthy walked through it and into the first room, once again taking notice of the rotting brute corpse pinned to the wall. Nothing had touched that, though that wasn't why he was here.
McArthy marched through the room, then reached the next door leading into the medical room. He walked in, only to be met once again by the body of the spartan. He approached her body, not liking the idea he had in mind. He shut his eyes as he grabbed her helmet, then slid it off her limp head.
Once it came off, McArthy watched the spartan head slump downward, the hair fortunately covering what would've been her decomposing face. The smell from the helmet was terrible, making McArthy gag, but he ignored it and ran his hand along the back of the helmet. He remembered helping treat a wounded spartan once, and they kept going on and on about if the AI was ok while repeatedly gesturing to the helmet.
McArthy's running theory was that they all had AI's, and if he could get a working console powered on, maybe an AI would come in handy. He hadn't thought about it the last time he was here, he was too flustered with the idea of having to survive. Now, he had a more clear mind, though he doubted it would be that way forever. As he checked the helmet, he found what seemed to be some kind of plug in on the helmet's backside, but unfortunately, nothing was inside. He groaned, feeling like he wasted his breath on that hope. On top of that, he desecrated the corpse of a spartan.
One thing he did notice before he slipped the helmet back onto the body was a chain now drooping onto the ground. McArthy paused for a moment, then put the helmet down and ripped the chain free. It was a dog tag.
He held it up to his visor, the only name on it being, "Kai". He held the dog tag in his hands, not knowing exactly who the spartan was. If the dog tag meant anything, she didn't even have a last name. McArthy looked back down at the spartan, remembering all the rumors floating around about them. Some kind of shady shit done by ONI, nothing he knew much about. He didn't like to poke his head around anything ONI related.
Either way, she died on this planet, just like every other UNSC soldier deployed. McArthy's gripped the dog tag tightly, then slipped them inside his suit and grabbed the helmet. He carefully slid it back onto the spartans head, then let out a long sigh.
He stood up from the body and left the room, not wanting to be there much longer. As he entered the maintenance room, he thought he heard the sound of creaking echo through the base. He froze in his steps, his hand immediately grabbing his gun. It might just be the building settling.
McArthy wasn't going to take that chance, then raised his pistol up and hurried towards the control room. A slight tremble was apparent as his pistol wobbled in his grip, but once he reached the doorway, the trembling disappeared.
He spun into the room, aiming the pistol forward. There was nothing there, but something was wrong. The door he had shut was now open.
He turned his gun to the right to look at the rest of the room, then his blood went cold. McArthy could see the edges of red tipped feathers poking out from behind one of the consoles.
The frozen ODST didn't know what to do. It was most likely the skirmisher from before, but what was he going to do? Shoot it? No, it helped him, but why was it here?
McArthy shook his head, trying to clear his mind of any discussion, then simply decided on a path of action. He'd attempt to be peaceful. Though it didn't understand him, it wasn't some mindless animal, it was smart, maybe smarter than him.
McArthy cleared his throat, then loudly said, "I… I know you're there! Please stand up… slowly! I don't want to hurt you!"
After a few moments of silence, he watched the skirmisher's head poke out from behind the console, staring at him. After another couple of seconds, the skirmisher slowly rose up to their full height.
McArthy was very intimidated, but he didn't get much time to process why it was here when it started motioning him downward. He was confused, watching as it moved its arms downwards more intensely.
McArthy naturally lowered himself, then watched as the skirmisher jumped over the console and hid behind it, clear in his view. Before he could attempt to question it, he saw a shadow pass by the window. His heart skipped a beat, then he threw himself behind a console and gripped his pistol by his face.
A few seconds later, McArthy peeked around the side to look. He could see a distant shadow, so whatever was outside wasn't next to the window. He moved his head to see the skirmisher, who was peeking at the window as well. It then turned to him, then let out a small chirp and gestured to the open door behind him.
He slowly nodded, then crept backwards towards the door, keeping his eyes on the window. The shadow wasn't getting any closer, then he watched the skirmisher begin creeping towards him, focused on the window. They both froze in place as the sound of metal bashing came from the maintenance room.
The two stared at the door leading into the room for a moment, then McArthy bolted for their exit. He rushed through it, hearing the skirmisher follow behind him, then heard a ear piercing shriek come from within the base.
They were jackals, and they were on the hunt.
McArthy backpeddled from the door he came from, pointing his pistol at it, then watched the skirmisher stop near the destroyed garage door and peek out of it. Suddenly, a jackal tackled right into the skirmisher sending the two flying backwards into the base. McArthy pointed his pistol at it, then felt something hit him in the back, sending him stumbling forward.
The ODST threw his elbow backward, striking the jackal trying to ravage him from behind, getting it off his back. He spun around with the pistol and pulled the trigger, shooting the jackal four times. Two of the bullets drilled through its neck, throwing it onto the ground to writhe in pain.
McArthy turned to see the skirmisher struggling with the jackal on top of it, then it got its legs under the jackal's chest and kicked up, sending the jackal flying right into the ceiling. The jackal let out a loud wheeze as it struck the ceiling, then it fell down onto the hard concrete. McArthy was quick to send a round through it's head before it could recover, then looked to the skirmisher.
The alien didn't waste a moment as it moved back to the garage door, then it motioned for him to follow. McArthy was hesitant at first, but as more shrieks and squawks came from within the base, he quickly made up his mind.
The skirmisher bolted out from the base, McArthy following as closely behind as possible. As they neared the fence surrounding the base, he risked a look back, only to see half a dozen jackals, only a couple armed, pour from the base.
McArthy picked up the pace as terror flooded his system, then he looked backward forward and continued following the skirmisher as it dashed through the forest. Every time he seemed to lose sight, he caught up to it again, standing and waiting for him. He didn't know why it wanted him to stick to it, but he wasn't questioning the help.
Despite their running, the jackals behind them kept pace, and now McArthy could hear them getting closer. Without looking, he pointed his pistol behind and began taking blind shots, hoping he'd hit something important.
He did hear squawk of pain once in a while, but nothing more than a glance. As he kept following the skirmisher, he watched it point wildly ahead, then it dipped off to the left, disappearing from sight. McArthy didn't know what to do, but he knew veering off his path would only get the jackals on him sooner, so he kept running forward.
He had to hop over fallen logs and sprint through bushes as he went, not caring as twigs and branches smacked against his body.
Suddenly, a heavy weight grappled onto his back, sending McArthy slamming into the ground. He felt something sharp trying to stab through his clothing, then thrust his elbow backwards, hitting what was on top of him. He dug his feet into the ground and leaped forward, spinning around so he'd land on his back, pistol raised.
The jackal McArthy struck leaped at him, but he was able to shoot it in the head, making it's corpse land on him instead. He threw the body of him, only to see three more jackals about to leap on him, ready to tear him apart. They were stopped in their tracks as a plasma shot raced through the trees and punched through one's head, killing them instantly.
McArthy and the two jackals spun their heads to see the skirmisher off in the distance, a carbine in their hands. They didn't stay there for long as the armed jackals began opening fire at it from out of sight.
McArthy took advantage of the distraction and shot the two jackals full of lead, watching their bodies crumple in front of him. He sat in the snowy dirt, his chest heaving as he took in deep breaths. Once again, he was moments away from dying, only to be saved by a bird.
The bird.
McArthy jumped to his feet, turning to the directions he last saw it. He reloaded his pistol, then quickly ran after it. He trudged up an incline as fast as he could, almost stumbling in the process. Once he made it over the top, the first thing he saw was the body of a jackal lying in front of him.
A loud squawk filled his ears, making him stop looking and move forward towards the sounds. He rounded around a rock to see the two struggling with each other. The jackal was biting down on the skirmisher's arm, stopping it from using the carbine, while the skirmisher gripped its plasma pistol.
They hadn't noticed McArthy slowly approaching, his pistol raised. In a swift movement, he wrapped his left arm around the jackal's throat, yanking them off the skirmisher, then pressed his pistol against it's head and plugged it's skull with lead. Its body went limp in his grasp, some of it's blood splattering against his visor, then he cast it aside and watched as the skirmisher grasped at it's arm.
McArthy holstered his pistol and said, "That's all of them. You good?"
The skirmisher looked up to him without a reply, then he sighed and said, "Right, can't understand me."
As he spoke, the skirmisher's bitten arm caught his eye. As it removed it's hand from its arm, McArthy noticed it was bleeding a bit, and he naturally went into action. The skirmisher recoiled a bit from his sudden movement as he swung his sack around and began rummaging through it.
He pulled out gauze and spray for the wound, then turned to the skirmisher and said, "I'm just gonna…"
McArthy shut his mouth, quickly realized speaking was pointless. The skirmisher saw the objects in his hands, but hesitantly crept away. He sighed, then pointed at its injured arm, then gave his wrapped bicep a light tap.
He watched as it looked at his bandaged bicep, then back down at it's wound. It quickly nodded its head, then outstretched the arm and turned their head away from him. McArthy peered at the arm curiously. This is the closest he's ever been to a living skirmisher without it being at the end of his barrel. The arm had black and red tipped feathers as well, but the wound from the bite was still apparent despite the plumage.
He slowly and carefully applied the spray to the wound, only for the skirmisher to yelp and draw back, letting out a hiss. McArthy raised his hands and shook them while calmly saying, "No, no, calm down. It's supposed to feel that way. Just..."
The tone of his words seemed to slightly calm the skirmisher, then it said something completely alien. McArthy tilted his head to the words, then he heard a huff come from as it once again held out its arm. This got a chuckle from him, then he said, "I see we both got the same problem."
He carefully wrapped the bleeding wound with the gauze, then took a step backwards once it was done, hands raised. The skirmisher drew its arm back, then held it and gazed at the gauze. As it looked, McArthy took notice of the skirmisher state. Like most, it had a skin tight suit under its armor, but this one was covered in blemishes and a few tears. It's been out here a while, either that or the wilderness here was crueler than he thought.
The skirmisher turned to him and gave him what he assumed was a thankful nod, which he returned. He then turned and looked where they came from, gazing at the forest. He let out a long sigh, then asked, "Where to now?"
His question seemed to perk the skirmisher's attention. It let out a questioning chirp, turning McArthy towards it. After a moment of staring, he asked again as a test, "Where to now?"
The skirmisher put a finger to its chin, then began making croaking sounds. After a few seconds of sounds, it squawked out the word, "Where.", then pointed northward. It looked at him with a curious tilt of the head.
McArthy chuckled slightly at the sight, then nodded and said, "Guess that's where. Lead the way."
The skirmisher shifted its feet slightly, then McArthy simply gestured for it to go ahead. The skirmisher nodded, then began moving forward. The tired ODST followed behind it, noticing something new. The two plasma pistols from the jackals they killed were attached to it's waist, along with an energy sword.
He was still curious as to what it needed with so many weapons, especially since he's only seen it unarmed up until minutes ago. Either way, McArthy was actually a bit glad. It may be an alien, but it has more and proven that it wasn't part of the Covenant. And even if they couldn't understand each other, some company was better than none.