Chapter CXLIX: Unwinding

July 12, 2547 (UNSC Calendar)/two months later

Esztergom (Ezhtergom), Viery Territory, Reach, Epsilon Eridani System

"Watching a movie, getting a drink, talking with friends, and secret meetings with ONI spooks. One of those is not like the others."- Gunnery Sergeant Francisco Castillo

You would've thought that I was staring at something interesting, or that I had found the face of Jesus on the bottom of my mug, but in truth, the bottom of that glass was as interesting as staring at an old brick wall. There were some froth formations that one could interpret as cats, but most of them just looked like clouds. White clouds floating in a vaguely yellow ocean.

Suddenly I found myself disgusted at the thought of yellow liquids. I should've asked for a stout or at least a dark lager. Instead I had tried a Corona for the first time in a while. The Mexican beer was good, light and easy to drink. But it looked like aged piss.

I groaned and pushed the mug away.

"Trouble in paradise?" Murphy asked me. Next to him Corporal Shaw chuckled and took a small sip of his whiskey glass. "I'm kidding Frankie, when they told me that I was being drafted back into action I almost drank myself to death."

I sighed and shook my head at Murphy. He had been drafted back into service recently, much like every single young and able men that the UNSC could get their hands on. "Nothing too serious," I assured him. "Only my second glass."

"Aye lad, but it won't be your last."

"What are you?" Driscoll asked him, elbowing him slightly. "A seer?"

"Seer?" Shaw scoffed. "Most people in the twenty-sixth century use the word psychic."

"Piss off."

The trio of Brits made a very quaint sight in here. They used to be security as well as costumers, now they were just like me, coming here to try and forget that any day they might look up to see Covenant ships burning their homes and families. I had it better than most. I didn't have a home or a family.

Hanna wasn't too happy about that.

"I know that look," Captain Montgomery told me from across the bar. "How's the missus?"

"She's not the missus," I told him.

His eyes widened slightly in dull surprise. "No wonder there's trouble in paradise. You planning on asking her to marry you?"

"No."

"Have you told her that?"

"Yes."

"How did she take it?"

"She said she can wait for me to change my mind."

"Huh."

"Now it just seems like she lied."

Montgomery smiled and leaned on the bar. "Frank, kid. A man as old as myself knows a lot more than you do about woman, so listen to what I am going to say."
I looked up at him with an annoyed look but nodded at him to continue.

"They will always find a way to make your life hard. They will always find a way to make you feel guilty. They will always find a way to make you angry. They will always find a way to get what they want. Unless, that is, you stay away from them."

A memory came to me. "Mujer que no chinga…no es mujer."

"Sorry, what was that?" Montgomery asked me, pouring me more beer, this time a darker blend. "My Spanish is a little rusty."

"Woman that doesn't…um, the translation would be fuck with you, I guess." I nodded to myself. "Yeah. A woman that doesn't fuck with you isn't a woman. It's something that I heard my brother say once."

"Didn't know you had a brother," Montgomery noted.

"I…doesn't matter."

"Well, your brother is a smart one then."

I suppressed a growl.

Montgomery continued unperturbed. "Listen kid, I don't know if you love her or how much you love her or whatever. The point is, if you really care about her you'd put a little bit of effort in."

"I thought you were supposed to be on my side."

He laughed. "I'm a bartender, I give advice, doesn't mean you'll like it."

"I like her Captain, I do. Lately we just seem to be getting into more fights. Hell, sometimes I even start them on purpose. Sometimes I get the feeling that she does the same."

"I'm not a shrink Frank, but even I can tell that that's self-destructive. If not toyou or her, at least toyour relationship."

"You should listen to yourself," I said, laughing weakly. "You'd be a great talk show host."

"Right. I'm trying to lie to myself right now, I honestly have no idea what I'm doing."

I smiled. "Kind of obvious."

"Three failed marriages will do that to you," he returned the smile. "Here, have a drink," he offered, pulling out two shot glasses and a fancy-looking bottle. "Ever had Alt Burgundy?"

"Not in a while," I admitted. At his surprised look I added, "I was raised in Jericho VII, there was a lot of Alt there, cheaper than now as well. In fact, I think I still might have a bottle hidden somewhere."

"The pray you don't lose it, kid," he told me as he filled my glass and his. "In a couple of years this nectar of the gods is going to be worth its weight in diamonds."

"Wouldn't that be something," I murmured. "What shall we drink to?"

"That friend of yours that died?" he suggested. "The medic."

"Almers?" I asked. "No. There have been plenty of toasts in his honor already, besides, you don't know him. I couldn't ask you to do that."

"Fine then. What to?"

"To women!" Murphy suggested loudly, drawing the eyes of a couple other patrons.

"Shut up Murphy," Montgomery told him. "What shall it be to then?"

I sighed, trying to think of something smart or memorable, something that one would find in a movie or a book. I couldn't come up with anything from under my sleeve and sighed. "To living the life." I proposed. "Whether it be good or bad."

"As good a toast as any," Montgomery nodded.

"I'll drink to that!" Murphy said loudly, already half-drunk.

"Count me in," Driscoll voiced.

"And me!" Shaw said.

We raised our glasses and drank.

"Hey Hon."

Hanna turned and looked at me with cold eyes. Even when she was angry she was lovely. "Have fun?"

I dropped the smile and glared slightly. "Why do you have to ask it like that?"

"When we started going out, you promised you would stop drinking," she reminded me for the hundredth time.

"I did no such thing," I said. "I said I'd drink less and I never promised anything."

"It was implied Frank!"

"So what? I'm not drunk!" I shouted. "It's not like I come here and hit you ever night! I'm not a deadbeat! Why do you have such a big problem with me drinking?"

"I've told you a thousand times!"

"That bullshit isn't cutting it anymore. Your foster sisters came in drunk? I mean, seriously? You can't possibly be that traumatized!"

"Well obviously you don't know anything about me!"

I rubbed my temples. "Really?" I asked her. "Really?"

The moment she switched from red hot anger to some kind of tranquil fury I knew that I had made a mistake, but I was too angry myself to care.

"Get out…just get out."

Then I made a second mistake. "I suppose you want me to get my things too." I almost had a heart attack when I heard the words coming out of my mouth. Sure, we got into more fights, but I loved her. I didn't want this to end.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shitshitshitshitshitshitshit shitshit.

And then I got a miracle, the first one that I had gotten without a gun in my hands and plasma flying around.

Hanna's eyes widened and she stammered on her words. "Are you…"

"No, no, no," I said quickly. "No, I'm not." I sighed and walked to her, putting my hands on her arms. "I'm sorry I said that. I didn't mean it." I could see tears on her eyes and felt myself gulping. I was an asshole. "I'm sorry."

"Frank, I don't want this to end. This…I like it," she said. "I love it."

I could see tears on those beautiful brown eyes of hers. "I do too," I assured her. "I don't know what… I just feel like you're trying to control everything sometimes."

"I'm not, I promise I'm not," she said, hugging me and pressing herself close to me. "I'm doing my best. I'm giving this my best shot."

I hugged her back and thought about my one big mistake in this relationship. It wasn't a mistake if no one found out you did it, but it still was enough to eat at me whenever I thought back to it. "You want to do something? It's been a while since we last went out on a real date."

"No, let's just stay like this for a while."

I smiled. "And then?"

She pinched me. "You really have no tact, do you?" The jab was good natured and the pinch didn't exactly hurt, so I laughed a little bit while I moved us to the couch. Hugging was all good and well, but she'd appreciate some old-fashioned cuddling and it didn't tire my legs out as much. Besides, it increased the chance of sex tenfold.

Funny how things change sometimes. Laying there I tried to find the root of our problems. I mean, I couldn't really see a reason why we would fight so much. The one thing I was hiding from here she couldn't have possibly known, it was a one time thing and she had no reason to believe I had cheated. She had never confronted me about anything and most of our fights seemed to be about nothing in particular. Sure, she complained about me drinking a lot, but drinking wasn't the topic of most of our fights.

I sighed, giving up. Perhaps it was because she wanted a marriage. If that was the case, then I didn't know what I would do.

"When are you leaving tomorrow?" she asked me.

"Morning," I mumbled in reply. I was already falling asleep. "I should be back before sunset."

Hanna yawned and shuffled so that she was facing me, her head propped up by her arm. "Do you have to go?"

Her tone was…tantalizing. "Yeah, debriefing on some things that might be of interest to the UNSC."

"Why didn't Naval Intelligence do that when you were in New Alexandria for the funeral?" she asked.

"I don't know," I replied. "Guess they just wanted to fuck with me."

Hanna smiled and gave me a quick kiss before stopping when I yawned. "Well that was rude."

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I'm tired, very tired. And my head hurts. Tomorrow morning?"

"Wow, a man asking for a rain check on sex. Better write this down so that I don't forget it."

I smiled, but I was already falling asleep.

"Ah, good morning Frank, I trust you had a good trip?"

"Good enough," I shrugged in reply, shaking the man's hand. Bruce Jones looked like an office rat, right down to the short-sleeved button shirt and clip-on tie. I'm not sure that was his real name, it sounded a little bit too generic if you ask me, but that's what I had called him for the past couple of years. He didn't have a military rank, at the very least he hadn't given it to me.

"Can't be helped," Bruce replied. "Everything good?"

"Mostly," I replied, taking a seat. "Same ol' stuff."

"Nightmares, headaches, and hallucinations?"

"Yup," I said, annoyed at having to go through this again.

"Any new stuff?"

"No."

"Sorry Frank, but I have to ask."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Any new guests?"

I glared at him. "No…"

"So just Schitzo?"

"And Scarecrow."

"Of course. And the headaches?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Couple of aspirin and I'm good to go."

"M-hm. Now, as for PFC Sander Almers?"

"You're really going to do this?" I asked. "You're not a shrink."

"I'm required to perform many functions in order to be your handler."

"I thought you weren't supposed to say that word…" I sighed. "They should've given me an AI for a handler."

"Would that make you more comfortable?"

"Bruce…"

"Relax, I'm joking."

I allowed myself to comply with that and relaxed my muscles, slouching on the chair slightly. "Ok, let's do this. What do you need to know?"

Bruce leaned slightly forward, clasping his fingers and putting his elbow on the table. "I've seen your initial report, the official one. Have to say, it's not very detailed."

"I got tired of writing step-by-step action scenes," I dismissed. "It's got everything someone from ONI would need to know."

"Ah yes, but it's not always so easy, is it?"

"No," I admitted. "There was one particular moment in Skopje where your…program did its job rather well."

"It's also your program Frank, you need to accept that."

"I do, doesn't mean I have to like it."

"If you say so," he replied, clearly not believing me. "What happened?"

"Ever seen an elite?" I asked him. "In real life, I mean."

"Once," he told me. "I've seen plenty of corpses, even participated in a few dissections. Frank, please don't ask rhetorical questions."

"You're the one who answered it," I pointed out. "But point taken. Elites are pretty big guys, aren't they?"

"Rhetorical."

"Sorry. Point is, they're way stronger than your average human."

"You're not average."

I glared at him. "Point is," I emphasized the phrase. "I found myself on the ground, with a big-ass elite looming overhead and it stomped me."

"And? You don't seem worse for wear."

"Exactly, I just stopped the stomp."

"With your hands?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There was some arm strength in there."

"Sarcasm won't get us anywhere Frank."

"Yeah, yeah," I waved him away. "That's the story."

Bruce leaned back on his chair and examined me carefully. "So, was this a full-on stomp? A 'finish you off' stomp? Or what kind of stomp?"

"The kind of stomp that you'd expect from an angry theocratic, genocidal alien."

"So a full-on stomp?"

"Yes."

"That sounds interesting. You do have the strength somewhere down there, but it only comes out sometimes. It shouldn't work like that."

I scoffed. "Look, I'm all for super strength, believe me. Just tell me why the hell it comes and goes? It's not like my muscles are constantly getting bigger and smaller."

"No, I'm thinking maybe it's psychological."

"Great. I'm even more fucked up."

"Frank, the more fucked up," he made air quotes around that, "you think you are, the more fucked up you'll become."

I didn't say anything, instead just glaring at him.

"You know," he went on. "I was going through your files again and realized that nobody gave you a full psych evaluation for the S-IV project. There was your pre-ODST evaluation plus a couple of other ones that you got after first time in combat, but nobody actually made an official one before indoctrinating you into the program."

"Go figure. Leave it to ONI to fuck up the easiest things."

He shrugged. "I know that I wouldn't have made that mistake, but then again, I'm the guy that's trained to deal with people."

"Thanks Bruce, I'm glad you see me for who I am."

"What did I say about sarcasm?"

"Not today," I replied, not really feeling it. "This conversation is going nowhere, is there anything you need to tell me or anything else you need to know?"

Bruce examined his files, tapping on his datapad and scanning through several pieces of information that might or might not be useful. "I don't think so. Your sudden bursts of strength might be promising or they might not be. The brains up there have some theories about why you didn't rise up to expectations, but it's all very technical, not even I can understand half of it."

"Great."

"To dumb it down, as they put it, your brain doesn't quite get that you can do more."

"And how do I get my brain to understand?"

"You can't. That's the main problem."

I looked to the side at a dull gray wall. "Everything would be so much easier if your stupid program had worked as it was supposed to."

"You don't have to tell me twice Frank." Bruce looked to the same side I was and rolled his neck. For a guy that belonged to a section infamous for their detachment he was very human. It annoyed me. "Listen Gunny, I'm sorry, but it's beyond my control. You know how it is, it's going to get-"

"Worse before it gets better," I finished. "That's what you told me two years ago when we first met."

"Ah, I seem to recall such an occasion. Frank, enjoy your life while you still can. There's no way in hell ONI is going to pull you from active duty no matter how cuckoo you go up there. Have a few drinks, make love to your girlfriend. Eat, sleep, shit. You know, the pleasures in life." Bruce smiled at his own sad joke.

"Just let the guys up there worry about it. Trust me, they're working hard to fix you, if only because it might mean that they get a promotion."

"You know that feeling of helplessness we talked about back then?" I asked him. "The one where I'm frustrated because I can't actually do anything?"

"Yes Frank, for the third time, stop asking rhetorical questions."

"Right."

"As I said, try to have some fun."

"Maybe you should drop me in an enemy base, see how much damage I can do, and get this shit over with."

Bruce laughed. "Don't flatter yourself Frank. You're not a Spartan yet."

"I don't really feel like becoming a freak. You know, losing my humanity and all that."

The smile on the spook's face disappeared in an instant. "You know, you shouldn't be so cynical. Those Spartans are heroes. Human heroes."

"I guess we'll have to agree to disagree," I said standing up.

"As always," he shrugged, standing up and moving towards the door. "I'll be seeing you."

"Likewise," I replied, shaking his hand. "Good talk."

"Right."

I left the soundproofed room and was escorted outside of the building by two MPs with serious expressions and MA37s. The sun was shining outside, even through all the buildings it still managed to hit me right in the face. It felt nice really, like being back in the real world.

If this had been ten years ago I might've hit a bar or even a club, no matter what the hour. I would've deceived myself into believing that I was much better at picking up girls than I actually was until my self-confidence actually managed to score. It was a lot simpler back then. I didn't have superhuman strength and reflexes and I didn't have to worry about slowly going crazy.

Those were the days. Sex, booze, and mental health.

The drive was mostly uneventful. I saw a couple of Banshees attempt to strafe a sports car and then blow up a small building, but I knew they were fake. They looked too bright, a bit bigger than they would've been in real life. That worried me, in the heat of combat I probably wouldn't have been able to make out the difference. I'd have to double up on pills before combat jumps and make sure to keep taking them during extended missions.

"Frank, is that you?"

"Yeah," I replied tiredly, I hadn't been able to get any sleep in the trip back here. "Interesting day?"

"Bowl of ice cream and romantic comedy marathon."

"Sounds better than mine," I admitted. "Anything interesting?"

"Not really, the new releases are just as predictable as the old ones. There was this one movie that you might've called innovating, but for the most part they all had the exact same plot with different actors."

"Boy meets girl, they fall in love, one of them screws up and tries to redeem him-slash-herself with a grand romantic gesture?"

"Yup."

"I could be a screenwriter."

"Bee could be a screenwriter," she corrected. "You'd just come up with the ideas."

"And what's so wrong with that?" I asked her, grabbing her by the waist.

Hanna giggled and smiled. She could really be the girly kind of girl when she wanted to. "Not now. Amber and Pavel asked us over for dinner."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "What are we? Normal?"

"At least pretend like we are Frank. Everybody else does."

"Fine, fine. When do we leave?"

"Actually, I asked them over here."

"What?" I asked. "Are you cooking something?"

She looked ashamed for a moment and shook her head. "No, I suggested that we just watch a movie and they said yes."

"You do realize that we're no longer in middle school. Nobody actually does that anymore."

"Well, they said it was a good idea. Besides, when have you ever turned down pizza?"

"Not recently," I admitted. "Will they be getting here s-"

The doorbell rang.

"-oon?"

"Yes," Hanna replied.

Through the door came a beaming Amber and a rather annoyed-looking Pavel, no doubt he shared my thoughts about this stupid thing. There was no doubt in my mind that they'd make us watch the newest romance film that we had missed onaccount of our deployment. I knew Amber always skipped seeing those by herself so that she could see them with Pavel.

"How's life treating you?" I asked Pavel slapping his arm.

"Can't complain."

"Lavvie?"

"We left her with the neighbors."

I shrugged. "Shame, would've liked to see her."

Amber turned to face me after hugging Hanna. "Hey Frank," she said before giving me a quick hug. "Lavanya is getting so big."

"Let's just hope he doesn't get as big as his father."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," Pavel deadpanned.

"Pavel, you know I like big muscles in my man," Amber said, poking him in the arm. "Come on, let's get started on that movie, I hear it's great."

"What are we watching?" I asked.

"It's a remake of a remake of a remake," Hanna said.

"Isn't everything these days?" Pavel complained.

"What movie?" I repeated my question.

"It's called The Notebook."

Pavel groaned loudly and I let myself fall back down on the couch.

"You've seen it?" Amber asked.

"The original," Pavel muttered. "Unfortunately enough."

"Is it bad?" Hanna asked.

"No, it just makes me fell like I need to drink beer and grow a beard every time I see it," Pavel said.

"And maybe chop trees down with an axe or get in a fight." Weirdly enough, those were the first two manly things that came to my head.

"For some reason I always end up speaking in a deeper voice after I see it."

"Just how many times have you seen it?" Hanna asked with a slight frown.

"Three?" I asked.

"Three," my friend confirmed.

"Care to explain why you watched such a girly movie three times?" Amber queried.

"You know Bee, right? Well, back in the day he used to have twentieth and twenty-first century movie nights or something along those lines," Pavel started.

"One day Cam won the right to pick the movie we would watch. And the rest, as they say, is history."

"But why watch it three times?" Amber asked.

"She always found ways to get to pick the movie."

"No doubt involving her feminine charms," Hanna stated, her voice perfectly neutral.

Pavel and I froze;both Amber and Hanna were looking at us expectantly, waiting for our answer to the question

"Yeah, she tended to take off her top in order to get that right," Pavel joked.

Smart reply, didn't really answer the question and used a joke to defuse the situation.

Damn, women can be bitches.

So we sat down, and we watched the movie. I didn't think it was possible, but The Notebook 3.0 was ten times as girly as I imagined it would be. I did finish with a strange feeling that my balls had drawn back into my body. Nothing to do about it I guess.

"Next time let's just go to a restaurant," I suggested, getting up and rolling my head. "Any pizza left?"

"No, Pavel ate the last piece," Amber said.

"Wow, don't tell on me!"

"Sorry," she apologized quickly.

The women talked about the movie, obsessing over every last detail and squealing in some sort of weird giddiness at every last romantic scene in the entire feeling. Pavel and I were left to clean up the pizza boxes and wash the dishes. More manliness to us, as sexist as that sounds. At least it was done in a quick manner, with the both of us trying to recall who had won the last Mega Bowl back in Earth. He said it was some team form (from) India but I kept telling him that the Urus from Montevideo had won. None of us had any idea and it was very likely that none of those teams had won anything, but it was a macho boost that we needed.

I was willing to bet that the girls were feeling romantic, so I guess that's a pro for the movie.

Damn, I'm rambling about nonsensical stuff.

"Hey, why'd you leave early?" I asked Pavel. "For Almers' service I mean."

"Trouble at home, Amber thought Lavanya was sick."

"You seriously call her Lavanya all the time?" I asked him. "I mean, am I the only one who calls her Lavvie?"

"We gave her a beautiful name Frank!" Amber called from outside the kitchen. "You shouldn't butcher it!"

"I don't butcher it," I murmured. I glanced at the door before going to the fridge and getting two cans of coke. I tossed one to Pavel.

"Coke?"

"No alcohol in Hanna's house."

"I thought it was your house. Like both of you, I mean."

I shook my head. "I live with her, it's not my house."

He shrugged and opened the can. "Whatup?"

"Hear anything interesting?"

Pavel shook his head and started speaking more quietly. "Well, now that you mention it I did hear something…"

"What?"

"Not a good thing."

"Just spill it."

"The Flawless battlegroup might be 'permanently' reassigned to a different system."

I put the can of coke down and leaned back on the counter. "Damn. What are you gonna do?"

"Nothing. Deployments are the same length as usual and the UNSC grants shuttle flights to various planets, one of which is Reach."

"Got it all figured out, don't you?"

"Yeah, but it's just a rumor. I'd rather the Flawless be stationed back here, facilitates things, but I'm not too worried."

Amber and Hanna laughed loudly about something that I didn't quite catch. Both Pavel and I looked at the door.

"You have a nice wife," I complimented him, raising my can slightly.

"Why, thinking about getting one?"

"We talked about this…"

"Yeah, yeah, I don't intrude in your personal life."

"Good boy," I said, patting him in the head. "You ever wonder what we would be doing right now if we hadn't lost the Inconvenience?"

"Not really, no," he admitted. "Try not to think about it. Lots of good people died. Stuff like that, it's better left buried deep down."

I smiled. "You didn't use to be so cynical."

"Between you and Grigori," he half-whistled. "It rubs. Hell, even Almers had his fair share of cynicism."

"That he did," I agreed, raising my can again in a toast. "Wherever he may be."

"Let him have water, a gun, and a girl to sit on his dick," he finished. The moment after that he looked at the door expecting Amber to drag him out by the ear. When she didn't he visibly relaxed. "Didn't know that you guys from the 19th Battalion knew that one in particular."

"It's pretty well-known, I think." I examined my empty can of soda. "You know, toasting isn't quite the same without something that packs a punch."

"Tell me about it," Pavel agreed, spinning his empty can as well before crushing it together. "Oh, before I forget. Have you heard anything about Marina recently?"

"Marina?" I asked. "No, why?"

"In two whole years?"

I shrugged and looked away. "Some things are best left buried deep down, right?"

"Frank, jeez, I mean. What the hell? Even I have talked to her a few times."

"Would it make you feel better if I caught up?"

"Me? No. She'd probably like it, you too."

"Hanna's gonna love this one…"

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen," he scoffed. "Listen, you might want to look her up. I have a feeling that you'll find whatever she's got to say is…interesting."

"Wipe that smirk off your face and get on with it already," I told him. "What is it?"

"I also heard that Hayes is getting a promotion. Captain."

"A full captain?" I asked, forgetting all about Marina. "Isn't that a company-grade rank?"

"Yes it is."

"So we're expanding?"

He shrugged. "I guess. It always seemed like one platoon for a carrier was a tad undersized."

I nodded, agreeing with his observation. "So they'll bring someone from the outside then."

"Can't possibly that bad, a couple of years ago we were from the outside."

I nodded once again. "For all I know it could be Darbinian, right?"

Pavel laughed loudly. At that I started laughing too. The memories of the old sunnova bitch were still there for both of us. I'm pretty sure that none of the survivors of the Inconvenience had actually bothered with calling him ever since it was destroyed. I mean, the dude was a hardass but didn't have any redeeming qualities. According to Hanna he was a damn good fighter, but that didn't really help you if you were a mediocre leader.

"Pavel!" Amber called. "Time to go!"

Pavel rolled his eyes. "Guess I'll be seeing you later man."

"That would be the norm."

He pointedly ignored my sarcasm. "Think about what I said. She'll appreciate it."

I said goodbye to Amber and closed the door behind them before turning around to look at my girlfriend with a predatory look. She made a show of pretending not to want any kind of sexual activity, but contrary to popular belief, women also enjoy having sex on occasion.

As we collapsed on the bed I was thinking about what Pavel had said. Catching up. Sounds easy enough.

Thanks to SilasWhitfield for proof-reading this chapter.

Well there you go guys, a nice little nudge to get the plot moving disguised as a filler chapter. You would believe that it takes skill to do that, but it really doesn't. I mean, just add a conversation or three and you're done. Well, maybe you need a little bit of skill to make the whole thing flow :)

You know, that scene where they all watch The Notebook together was inspired by the constant complaining of my friends as to what movies they had to go watch with their girlfriends. I always tell myself that I'll never yield, but if taking a girl to the movies gets me some action then it's a fair trade. First I need a girl, but I'll worry about that when people start looking at me weird.

So there's our new ONI handler, a very nice guy that does his best to help Frank. He might not be exactly friends with him, but they do lead a cordial relationship, sort of the one that you might have with a friendly boss or an older kid in your high-school sports team. Frank and Hanna are having some friction, but is it a sign of anything or is it just a couple behaving like a couple? So the Flawless battle-group might be switched to defend another planet and the ODST platoon might be expanding. Hell with it, I already told you there were going to be some big changes, so why try to hide it...

And to whomever asked me to bring back Claire and Marina, they'll both show up in the next chapter. Shits and giggles indeed.

DN 506: point taken on the Warthog tires, let's pretend that I wrote down disintegrated or something similar. Maybe they just blew apart.

Classy Cynic: I've been thinking about having Frank take a big hit for a while, but so far I don't think having him suffer a big injury would affect the plot in any way. Perhaps later on he'll lose a limb or three.

To the rest of you, thank you for your reviews, I am glad you liked the chapter and hope you enjoyed this one. So, how's the reunion with Frank's beloved ex-girlfriend going to go? Let me know what you think and your views on the chapter. Stay strong.

-casquis