The inclement weather of the Ark often meant that when it rained, it poured. Rolling green hills of evergreen trees, once illuminated by the bright artificial star, were now smothered by dark clouds, the dry ground becoming a thick, soupy mud. It was cold, wet, dark, the visibility was terrible, and overall it was truly miserable weather.

It was also absolutely excellent weather for moving around discreetly, especially for an ODST Sniper Team.

John's heavy boots sunk into the mud as he walked up yet another hill, trying his best to avoid slipping on the slimy surface. While his ODST Armor was sufficient for keeping the worst of the weather out, the mud was still frigid and difficult to traverse. A few bits of mud had also found their way into his armor, probably because of ruptured seals in his suit. He grit his teeth in frustration; The Spirit of Fire's foundries were useful, but spare parts for body armor were low on the priority list.

Behind him, Linda wasn't having any better of a time, being weighed down by her hefty SRS99-AM sniper rifle. John's own BR55 battle rifle was much lighter, but he also lacked a plastic bag to protect his rifle like Linda had, and was forced to keep his rifle held up high to avoid it getting smothered by mud.

"Careful, the next leg's steeper than it looks," John warned her.

"Understood, I'll-" Linda briefly spoke, before her foot slipped, and she nearly stumbled backwards. Thankfully, John was just close enough to reach forward and grab her forearm, pulling her back to her feet. "...thanks."

He gave her a silent nod of affirmation, before turning to resume the climb. Much as he would've preferred to take things more slowly and safely, the wind was picking up, and so was the rain. While mudslides on the Ark were uncommon, they were not unheard of. At the very least, they didn't have to worry about their target going anywhere.

After what must've been hours of climbing, the exhausted duo reached the top of the hill. The mud seemed to be somehow even deeper, but at the very least, they no longer had a slope to contend with.

"Their Observation Post will be somewhere on the next hill," John noted. Flicking on his helmet's rangefinder, he was swiftly provided the information he needed. "Eighteen-hundred meters, think you can hit it from here?"

"On a nice sunny day like this? Please," Linda sardonically answered. "I'll need a better firing position than this though, any ideas?"

John took a look around, but frustratingly, it seemed as though the mud had claimed every bit of reasonably flat ground around. There weren't any forerunner structures to post up in either, since, frustratingly, the Banished had already claimed the nearest one as the very Observation Post that they'd been sent to harass.

"The best thing I can suggest is the trees, but with the wind, keeping a steady shot is going to be difficult," John eventually answered.

Linda stood in silence for a moment, seemingly looking him over, and then at the evergreens all around them. "The trees… Hold on, I've got an idea. Step over there for a moment."

She gestured to the bottom of one of the trees, and after wading through the thigh-deep mud, John stood beside the trunk. He was pretty sure he knew what Linda had in mind, and so he slung his battle rifle over his shoulder. "Do you want me to boost you up?"

Again, Linda sized him up, and then the tree beside him. After about a moment, he could practically sense her devious grin. "Not quite."

"So, is this what you learned at Sniper School?" John asked, trying to keep Linda balanced on his shoulders as best as he could.

"Well, they taught us to improvise," Linda answered as she steadied her rifle on one of the lower tree branches. The hefty 14.5x114mm cartridge produced enough recoil that, if she were to fire a shot from her position on John's shoulders without a brace, she would probably knock both of them into the mud. "Now hold steady, I think there's a Jackal Sniper on the roof over there."

John obliged, holding onto one of Linda's legs with each arm as he tried to hold her as steady as was possible. He couldn't help but feel slightly demeaned, having been demoted from spotter to standing stool. She wasn't all that heavy, thankfully, although the tree was probably helping to save him a bit of the burden of holding her up.

"Quit your pouting," Linda noted, as if able to somehow sense his thoughts. "You know lots of guys would kill to trade places with you right now."

A furious blush made its way onto John's face. Linda was somewhat infamously quiet when she could help it, but when she did speak up, she didn't have a lot in the way of restraint. "What, waist-deep in cold mud?"

She softly knocked a boot into his chestpiece, and he recognized the signal to stop talking. Either she didn't want to hear him complaining anymore, or she needed to focus on shooting. Either way, he held as steady as he could and stayed silent.

Sure enough, about ten seconds later, a single suppressed gunshot rang out. The recoil was a bit hard to handle, but John had managed to find at least somewhat steady footing, and Linda was able to stay more-or-less on target. About ten seconds after she'd fired, Linda spoke. "Jackal's dead. We've got about three minutes before we need to reposition, can't risk them zeroing our position."

"Want me to carry you over to the next hill then?" he asked. Privately, while he recognized that holding Linda up like this was probably not good for his back, he also didn't mind it nearly as much as he was letting on.

"Very funny," she replied, although there was an unmistakable hint of mirth in her voice. "Say, which do you think is a bigger loss? A Comms Antenna, or Grunt Major?"

"Go for the Antenna, that way they can't call for help," John quickly answered.

"Brace yourself," Linda simply answered.

A moment later, she fired three shots in relatively quick succession. The recoil from the first was easy to absorb, but the next two were a somewhat different story. His left boot slipped on the mud. He was able to catch himself and avoid tumbling into the mud along with Linda, but by instinct, grabbed onto her legs much more tightly.

"I said brace yourself, not me," Linda cheekily remarked as he blushed and relaxed his grip.

His blush only grew as she reloaded a new magazine and pocketed the old one. "Sorry."

There was a noticeable pause before she muttered something, barely audible over the rain. "I didn't say stop…"

John's brain momentarily paused as he tried to consider his next move, before settling on tightening his hold just a bit more. "Any last targets?"

"No, they're all in cover now, time to move," Linda said.

After about a minute of her awkwardly re-bagging her rifle, John gently set her down. He shouldered his own rifle once more as he mentally charted out the best course to the next hill over, before he spared one last glance at Linda. "...We're not telling Fred and Kelly about that, right?"

"Right," Linda immediately answered, as though she'd had the same thought. "Lead the way."