Chapter 6. As promised. Also, please, any reviews are appreciated. Even if you're referring to my writing as the spawn of a hellhound and a kangaroo. It all helps.

Chapter 6

(Max's POV)

Max heard the sound of a shot going off. Quickly followed by the feeling of hot liquid pouring down his arm. After a second, searing pain shot through his arm as the nerves realized they were damaged. His hand flew to his arm, clutching at the large, round gash. He turned slowly to face the direction of attack. He then stopped, looking at the sight before him with a puzzled expression.

The man who had taken out his men was now kneeling and clutching his throat, eyes wide. Above him stood another man who he recognized as one of the men from the table. He was holding a rifle by the barrel in his left hand. The muzzle smoking slight and pointing towards Max. His other hand was lowered to his side and he was regarding the man on the floor with a serious expression.

"Jester, stop trying to kill everyone who talks to you. You're going to get us discharged." The man said in a monotone. He then looked up at Max and smiled an empty smile. "He was going to kill you. I twisted the barrel. Don't make me regret it."

Max wasn't listening. He was just staring into the man's eyes. They were a deep brown, with flecks of green around the pupil. They were keen, clear eyes. That looked as though they allowed the man who owned them to see through any lie or illusion. But despite the clarity, the eyes were empty and emotionless. The eyes of a man who placed no value in life and he himself was dead inside. The only thing he could see in those eyes was hunger.

The man held him in place the same way a snake would mesmerize a bird with it's gaze. He stared Max down for a few more seconds before turning away. Hoisting Jester up by the arm and dragging him back to the table. As he passed by the bodies of the men Jester had taken out, who were now sitting up and clutching their ribs, he dropped the rifle down at their feet and continued on without a word. Once they reached the table he pushed Jester to his seat and sat down himself.

After the man had turned around Max shook his head furiously. That was no ordinary soldier. He thought. He looked to his man clutching their ribs, then to Jester holding a hand to his throat and looking down, and finally to the man with the dead-eyes. I should report these men for misconduct. He thought. But then he remembered the words the man had said to him. 'Don't make me regret it'. He had no doubt that the man would kill him.

Max looked back to his injured men once more before turning and walking away. Remembering the bullet wound in his arm he resolved to visit the med-centre. Have them send some people to collect his soldiers when he got there.

(Medic's POV)

Medic watched the man go with little interest. He knew the threat would hit home. He could see it in the man's eyes. He also disregarded the other men in the room talking about what had transpired. He turned back to face Jester who had now recovered from the shot to the throat he'd received. "Why did you do that?" Jester asked with a slight rasp.

"You were going to kill him. That would not help our mission. It doesn't matter if you beat a few people every now and then, but killing a Sergeant would likely get us put on leave." Medic stated coolly. Beside him, Bishop nodded along.

Jester nodded grudgingly and said "Fine." Then Mentor piped up.

"What did you say to him?" He asked.

"Just a little threat," Medic replied, "We shouldn't have to worry about a report."

"Good. It'd be a pain to deal with that as well as finalize plans for Typhon." Mentor said. As he finished, the doors opened and four men with hazmat suits walked towards the two grunts on the floor. As the reached them one of them crouched down and asked them if they could walk. The soldiers grunted and rose unsteadily to their feet. The man who'd asked them if they could walk began prodding at their chests.

"Looks like some cracked ribs," He said, "we'll have to study more closely to make sure there are no splinters." The soldiers just grunted and began walking away. The medics surrounding them as they walked.

"Hear that, Jester?" Mentor asked, "Cracked ribs." Jester just nodded with a satisfied look. The team left soon after and headed to the bunkhouse. After securing a few bunks in a corner, they settled in to sleep.