Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Feedback is always very much appreciated, so please continue. Oh, and don't worry, I've got plenty of ideas for the story. ;-) Anyway, since Ch. 13 & 14 are short, I decided to put up both. Enjoy, R&R, and peace!

P.S. Moved the time-and-date heading to this chapter. I thought it didn't make sense for it to be in the last one, since Ch. 13 was a dream.

Chapter Fourteen: Back to a Boring Base

1545 Hours, January 28, 2552. Europa Base, City of Cote D'Azur. "The Calm Before the Storm," Planet Sigma Octanus IV. Prologue to Battle of Sigma Octanus IV

It was always eerie to wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in your own sweat and shivering from a weird nightmare. The feeling was no less true in the daylight hours. At first I just lay there a while in my bed, staring intently at the ceiling and then the room to make sure everything was ok. I was in my quarters on Europa Base, trying to enjoy a moment's rest before heading back to simulated training with my platoon.

Except that for some reason, even a moment's rest always transformed into a restless moment.

Maybe all those simulations are combining in my subconscious with my deepest anxieties to form bad dreams, I thought. Or it could mean that sometime in the future, when I'm busting down shop doors looking for Covies to kill, I'm going to get my neck snapped by an Elite. Either way, it sucks.

There was only one thing to be thankful for: the nightmares were finally excluding Beesner's broken and bloody body.

When I realized there was no way I'd fall asleep again, I sighed at the missed opportunity and pushed the covers back. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, yawned, and rubbed my burning eyes. Life in uniform meant a lot of hours spent away from a nice lovely bed.

Wearing only a gray UNSC-MC T-shirt and underwear as I slept, I was almost finished getting dressed when someone knocked on my door.

"Cooper? Beauty sleep time's over, kid. Get your lazy ass in gear, we've got a sim to run in fifteen minutes."

It was Graham.

"I'm so not ready for this right now," I muttered as I strapped on my gloves. I picked up my helmet and opened the door.

"What'd you say?" Graham asked, a puzzled look on her face.

"Nothin', El-Tee. Let's get going before Kingston pops a vein and Smythe uses the opportunity to talk shit about me."

Lieutenant Graham laughed as I picked up my battle rifle and silenced pistol.

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"Finally, no more sims and no more cares," Graham said when we'd finished training three hours later.

"Yeah," I said sadly. "Just mountains upon mountains of paperwork to do." I rolled my eyes. "Does Intelligence really believe I'll remember something useful to them from the last firefight I was in?" I paused, thinking. "I could tell them the exact color and feeling and temperature of Private Beesner's blood, but not so much about enemy troop strength."

Lieutenant Tracey Graham put her hand on my shoulder. "Hey, kid, think about what I said. And maybe consider honoring that other kid with a citation. I'm sure it would make you feel better."

"I don't know. Graham, if I give Bee a medal, who the hell's gonna receive it? His entire family was wiped out. Honestly, the more I think about it, the more just Beesner's death seems to be." Even though it still tore me up inside. Poor Beesner.

"I'm just making suggestions, Cooper. You've got to find your own way to deal with this. Just make sure you do actually deal with it and not just ignore the issue. Faster you heal, faster you'll be that much more valuable to your current crop of Marines. Remember that."

I looked at her for a moment, then nodded silently. She gave my shoulder a pat and walked off.

Well, it's time to hit the paperwork, I thought, sighing.