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-- FROM THE VIEW OF WALKER --

Omega Squad ran security tight over the escape pods, with men at each
entrance and every member hooked up to squad frequency. Staff Sergeant
Walker, armed with the standard MA5B assault rifle and his M6D sidearm, kept
an eye on the left entrance and his sights on the door. His radio came to
life, and his second-in-command's voice came to his ears:
"Heard anything over the inter-squad frequency?"
"Not yet, Dirk," Walker answered Lance Corporal Kennedy. It felt unusual,
talking to one of his characters who happened to be stationed aboard the
Pillar of Autumn when the game took place. Dirk Kennedy had been the hero of
his first series—and now he served under him, along with fourteen other
Marines who knew him as "Sarge". Surprisingly, Walker knew them, too—though
he didn't know how. And if they had any clue that he had been sucked into
this affair, that he was really a fourteen-year-old and not the hardcore
Marine that they worshipped only second to their platoon Sergeant, they
didn't give any hint to it. And he was glad for that.
"All right," Dirk answered back, and the radio fell silent. The basis for
his question had probably been in an attempt to ease the men with him on the
right entrance, to tell them something about what was going on without their
little secluded duty post. But, it seemed, their connection with the outside
world had been severed... and thus so had they been cut off. It was a solemn
feeling, to be alone.
The feeling ended and was replaced by one of apprehension as plasma fire
echoed down the passageways and reached them from the bridge. Alpha Lance's
unit was on the bridge, and Mainevent's November Squad on the opposite end.
Suddenly, the radio flared to life once more, with urgent speech coming over
from the other end:
"This—Fire Team October—Covenant troops—through defensive barrier
Alpha—toward bridge—" at that point the talking ended and the transmission
was punctuated by a loud battle cry.
Alpha barrier broken... that meant the Covenant had gotten past Mainevent.
His squad had most likely been massacred, scattered and were now combat
ineffective, if not completely wiped out.
Walker switched to the squad frequency and began to give orders. "All
right, guys, the Covenant have reached the bridge. Fire Team October will
give them a lot of blood for their trouble, but we can't count on them to
hold our position for us. Any minute now Covenant will seep through their
position and saturate ours with fire. If they can they're going to break
through, destroy the escape pods, and render our route of escape inoperable.
We'll be fighting with our backs against the wall. Does that sound good to
you?" he asked gruffly.
"No!" the squad yelled at once.
"Are we going to let them cut off our escape?"
"No!"
"All right then, Marines, let's show these savages that if they want this
ship, want Earth, want our lives, they're going to have to pay for it—in
blue alien blood! Am I right?"
"Yes, sir!"
"What's our business, Omega Squad?" Walker asked.
"Killing is our business!"
"And how is business?" he continued.
"Business is good!" the squad finished as one. If they had too they could
have read the slogan of the Walking Dead off of their arms, but every member
of the 9th knew the slogan well enough they could say it in their sleep.
Now the whine of plasma fire and the explosions of needles filled the air.
The doors whoosed open, and Covenant poured out into the corridor. Bursts of
light, smoke, and flying gobs of blue blood filled the air as the Marines
opened fire. Grunts and their bodyparts were scattered over the floor, spent
brass rolled beneath their feet, and bullets ricocheted off of the walls.
The lights would have gone out, but they were bulletproof.
An Elite opened fire with a plasma rifle and metal sizzled as it came in
contact with the superheated bolts. Walker let loose a long burst right into
its back just as it spun to level its fire on PFC Chang. As the .390 bullets
slammed into its back and punctured its armor, it threw its arms out,
dropped its weapon and crumpled to the floor.
"You all right, Chang?" Walker asked the Marine on the ground, back against
the wall.
"Yeah, Sarge. Thanks," she answered.
Their conversation was cut off as another Covenant soldier, a Jackal,
fumbled through the darkness and opened fire with a needler. Walker dove to
the left to avoid the explosive projectiles, and expended the rest of his
clip taking out the Jackal. It fell right on Chang, who threw it off
disgustedly and blew its head open with her MA5B.
The fire faded, the smoke finally cleared, and Walker went over the command
frequency to his immediate subordinate: "Dirk, take two guys up and check
for survivors. Once you're done come back so we have an opening to fire
through if they come back."
"All right, Sarge, but why not just take the whole squad up and stay
there?"
"What, and give them a chance to flank us? Just get!"
"Roger that, Sarge."
Feet pattered as they charged forward, clothing rustled and lights beamed
through the dark of the tunnels. Men examined bodies, or simply stepped over
them, and made sure that, for now at least, they had pushed back the
Covenant.
"Clear up!"
"Clear down!"
"All right, get back down here and brace for another assault," Walker
ordered.
Chang dropped to her knee right behind Walker and raised her assault rifle
to her shoulder, aiming past the other half of the squad on the right end.
"Sarge, something just moved back there."
Walker looked, and raised his own MA5B only to notice it was empty. He
ejected the magazine and slapped in a new one. "If anybody sees anything
move, shoot it," he said over the squad frequency. "If it's one of ours
he'll sing out."
There was tension in the air for a few moments, and it reached its peak
when the thundering of a shotgun was heard. There was a muzzle flash,
followed by the sound of another shell being pumped into the chamber. There
were a few steps, their source not located, until an Elite, a gaping hole
blown through his middle, stumbled into the center of the turn. Immediately
he was riddled with fire that tore him to pieces and caused his guts and
carcass to be thrown to the floor.
"Watch the turn, there'll most likely be more of them."
But instead of more Covenant, there was a voice. "Friendlies! We're coming
out!"
"Hold your fire, but keep your sights trained," Walker whispered.
From the shadows came two tall figures: one, wearing nothing but his dog
tags and pants, held a shotgun, apparently the marksman who had first
mortally wounded Elite. The second wore a lab coat and was unarmed. On each
of his shoulders were three bars, one thick, one thin, and another thick
one, signifying him as a Lieutenant Commander in the Navy.
"Who are you?" Dirk asked the naked man.
"Well, the other Pelican pilots call me Hornet," he answered. "Chief
Warrant Officer, UNSC Marine Corps. This is—"
"Lieutenant Commander Ishwar Ganesh," the Indian man said.
"You a scientist?" Dirk asked him.
"No, a doctor."
While Dirk and the scientist conducted some more detailed conversation,
Walker was studying the other man's face. It was hard, slightly wrinkled. He
looked about thirty, so it couldn't be who he thought it was... could it?
Hornet34 was a college student, yet... he was 14 and now he looked like a
full-grown adult, so couldn't Hornet34 age to middle age? It was possible...
"Where are you from, Hornet?"
The man paused, and looked at PFC Chang who blushed at his half-nakedness.
He smiled back, then turned to Walker. "Could we talk somewhere more
private?"
"Of course. Private First Class Chang, keep your guard up on the right
passageway," Walker ordered the female Marine, who walked forward as he and
Hornet backed into the wall.
"So, answer my question. Where are you from?"
"The past, if you could believe me."
"I can believe you," Walker said without hesitation. "My name's Walker.
Staff Sergeant, UNSC Marine Corps."
"Walker, is that really you?" Hornet looked surprised. "Who else is here?"
"Same as last time."
"Same as last time? You mean everybody?"
"Everybody."
Hornet34 held his shotgun tight as the sound of plasma fire once more drew
nearer. "Well, we're going to have to work hard to get out alive."
"Judging by what you said, you just might be our ticket off of the Autumn.
Can you fly?"
"Just as good as Foehammer, maybe better. I don't know, since the character
I've taken the shape of has never met her. How about you? Do you remember
anything this Staff Sergeant knows?"
"Just about, but I don't think much on it. Mostly I've been worrying about
surviving," Walker said. He turned his head and swept the area for signs of
Covenant.
"So, what do we do?" Hornet34 asked.
"Hold our position until we get the order to ditch the ship, which, judging
by my knowledge of the game—"
"Walker, I thought you said you never even got past Assault on the Control
Room!" Hornet exclaimed.
"Yeah, well, I played through every level leading up to it and just about
beat Assault. Plus, I read The Flood."
"Fair enough," Hornet admitted.
"As I was saying, the order to ditch the Autumn should be coming shortly.
If the game wants to toy with us, then it will probably happen just as we
have our backs to the wall and enemies on all sides."
Hornet was about to reply, but one of the Marines yelled, "Contact!" and a
horde of Covenant spilled into the room. Chang was taken out and dropped
almost right at Hornet34 and Walker's feet. Ganesh charged up to her and
took her pulse as both Hornet and Walker fired over him. "She's gone!" he
yelled, and picked up her rifle.
Walker sprayed a Grunt with fire and took it out, along with two of its
little friends. He ejected the clip, slapped in a new one, and pumped
thirty-seven rounds of lead into a Jackal. "Frag out!" pierced the air, and
the Marines took defensive positions just as the center of the Covenant mass
exploded. Grunts were thrown about, and an Elite's back was broken. Kennedy
was splattered in blood, and swore.
"Not again!"
Walker, knowing he was down to his last magazine, dropped his near-empty
rifle and palmed his sidearm. He ran forward and batted a Jackal's shield
in, then caused his skull to collapse with a strike from the butt of his
M6D. The thunder of Hornet34's shotgun filled the air, even louder than the
combined symphony of automatic fire created by Omega Squad.
"Take that, you piece of shit!" yelled one of the Marines as he tore open
the Elite with the broken back with his MA5B. "Yeah, that's right, just like
mom used to make. Want some more?" he asked, and as the Elite groaned he
ended its suffering with a last burst to the head. His buddies watched his
back to make sure he was unbothered as he avenged his fallen fellows.
"Sarge, we can't hold them!" yelled an Aussie Marine—Purser.
"Keep up your fire!" Lance Corporal Kennedy yelled. His order was punctuated
by a long blast from his MA5B that took down half a row of the ever-oncoming
Covenant onslaught.
Ganesh was on the ground behind the Marine lines with a fallen man, trying
to operate on the hole in his shoulder while defending himself and his
patient. "Ammo!" He yelled. "I'm out of ammo!"
There was no one to aid him.
Hornet34 pumped 8-guage buckshot from his M90 until he was also dry, then
picked up Walker's discarded assault rifle and fired the last few rounds
from the magazine. "Walker, we need to haul ass out of this metal can!"
"We hold until relieved!" Walker's grime-covered face was grim and
expressionless as he blew away a careless Grunt with his sidearm. "I'm not
in charge of what happens here, and you know it!"
"Sarge, you're in charge of our lives and these escape pods. You can take us
out and bring us down on whatever's out there. We don't have to die here!"
Purser yelled as he shredded a Grunt's body with rounds from his rifle.
"No, but we have to obey orders!" Walker said. He dropped to the deck and
ducked behind a Grunt and Jackal who lay dead together, then reloaded his
M6D with .450 magnum rounds. "Orders say we hold our post until relieved!"
When he rose again Purser was splattered all over the place.
"Combat teams Alpha through November, pull out to nearest evac station."
Came Captain Keyes' voice over the loudspeaker.
The Covenant seemed to be falling back. "See, told you we could hold them!"
yelled a Marine with a New York accent, the same who had destroyed the
fallen Elite as his buddies covered him.
"Report!" Walker demanded.
"Looks like losses are Chang, Stiger and Purser, sir."
"That's all?"
Hornet34 dropped down beside Ganesh. The doctor lay sprawled next to his
patient, Stiger, who had stopped breathing. The Indian's case was more
painful, as it seemed that his ribcage was disintegrated along with the rest
of his belly and lower chest. "You okay, Doc?" Hornet asked the man.
Ganesh removed his blood-splattered glasses and looked at Hornet. "I'll... be
okay." He said, breathing heavily and slowly.
"Yeah, you'll be fine. You did good, Doc," Hornet said, and Ganesh exhaled
deeply, nodding slightly. "You did just fine," Hornet continued, softly,
sympathetically. But by then he was talking to a corpse.
"Combat teams Sierra through Victor, prepare for evac."
"That's us," the New Yorker, Private Tarelli said. He walked over to the
first of two lifeboats in their corridor. "Sarge?"
Walker looked at Ganesh, then turned away, retrieved his rifle, which Hornet
had also dropped, and his M90, and handed it to Hornet34. "Open the
lifeboats, Tarelli. Dirk?" he turned to the Lance Corporal, who stood with
eight other Marines behind him, staring him dead in the eye with expressions
ranging from weariness and sadness to anger and bloodlust.
"Sarge?"
"Everybody in."
"Roger that, Sarge," Kennedy said, and it was done.
"All combat personnel, fall back to tertiary defensive positions."
The lifeboats were filled one by one, and Marines were strapped in. They
held their weapons close. Hornet34 took the seat at the controls of Walker's
boat, and a farm boy named Owens, who had some experience crop dusting,
apparently, got into the pilot's seat of the other lifeboat, with Dirk.
"Combat teams, fall back to secondary defensive positions."
Hornet34 started the ignition, and instructed Owens to do the same over the
short-range radio. "Stay in touch, kid, or we'll both get lost," he added as
an afterthought.
Turning his head back to his own passengers, he said, "All right, Marines,
everybody strap in. This is going to be one hell of a ride. We go when the
Sergeant here gives the order."
The Marines nodded. "Sarge?" Tarelli asked.
"Let's light this candle."

This is work of Walker, not me. Ok? good.

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