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"Everything is funny, if you can laugh at it."

• Lewis Carroll

F.U.B.A.R. foo-bar

adj.

Fucked. Up. Beyond. All. Recognition.

A phrase popularised by World War II military personnel to describe a bad situation.

A phrase used to describe the life of ex-UNSC Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, Seth Sawyer {citation needed}.

SniperSpartan-977 presents...

... thanks to an awesome , loyal and patient fanbase...

... a Halo - Parody fanfic...

Halo: FUBAR II

Chapter 01

"In the substance of it."

"Chief? Chief..."

...

"Honey-buns? No? Would you prefer 'fuck-buddy' then?"

...

"Ugh, fine! Be boring then! Sawyer... Sawyer!"

I twitched at the singing of my name. I was awake in a split second. With everything I'd been through, it was a miracle I'd fallen asleep in the first place. So on edge, I could've woken at the sound of a pin dropping.

Her voice was a little louder than a pin-drop. In fact, it was more like nails on a chalkboard. Metaphorically speaking.

The smooth synthesised notes of her sultry voice would have lulled any space-traveller to sleep. But I knew the AI better than most - not surprising as she resided in my armour. Her voice pulled me right out of the comfort of sleep.

But I just lay there, face hidden behind the grey veil that was my helmet-visor and pretended to still be asleep.

Vixxen wasn't easily disheartened. "Sawyer, wake up! I need you!"

It was as she shouted that I felt weight land in my lap. Vixxen's avatar used hard-light technology, so the digital re-creation of life had a semi-physical presence in the world. She could interact with physical objects and theoretically speaking, feel. Or at the very least simulate feeling (she loved to simulate certain feelings, lemme tell you).

Thus her holographic avatar acted as her 'body.' She had a physical presence, complete with weight and texture. Thus I reacted when she landed in my lap, straightening up and huffing out an "oof!" against my visor.

But even as the naked pixie landed in my lap, I didn't tear open my eyes. That only happened when I heard the explosion.

The deafening 'boom' popped my ear-drums and sent vibrations throughout the ship around me. Panels rattled and shook, alarms screamed for a moment before fizzing out and dying.

Vixxen let out an "ooooooh~!" as the vibrations of the impact reverberated through her body, tightening her grip around my neck.

Opening my eyes, the first thing I saw was the big smile on her face. Vixxen was - as per her namesake - an anthropomorphic vixen in the buxom traditions of furry-porn. Her holographic fur glowed with soft pinkish light, patterns of code forming lingerie-like patterns on her thighs and arms. But aside from that she was entirely naked, her long legs crossed as she sat in my lap, her plush tail brushing my chest-plate and the lusty glint in her eyes hidden by the strands of her short hair falling over the top half of her face.

"What was that?" I demanded looking around the cockpit of the ship.

My environment hadn't changed since I had fallen asleep. Still aboard the ship Vixxen, Token and I had used to escape Olduvai untold hours ago. Judging by the view out the cockpit window we were out of the system, but we weren't in faster-than-light flight. Judging by the stars, we were drifting somewhere between systems.

The only difference from when I had fallen asleep was Vixxen settled comfortably in my lap and the fact Token was missing from the pilot's seat.

Another explosion rocked the hull before Vixxen managed to answer me.

"That? Oh, that was just an explosion," she chirped happily with a smile. "I didn't wake you for that."

I scoffed. "Then why did you wake me?"

She gave a wider, almost wicked smile. The canine teeth suited her demonic demeanour. And when I speak of her demonic demeanour, I am of course referring to her succubus-class personality. Leaning forward, Vixxen answered with a seductive whisper, "Because I'm bored and need you to put something in me."

Hesitation leads to rape. It was a lesson driven into me - almost literally - on Olduvai. With that in mind I planted an armoured hand right over her face and shoved her off my lap. On impact with the cockpit dashboard the AI's avatar exploded into a cloud of holographic pixels before the core of her existence embedded somewhere in my armour - and probably in my brain - let out a disappointed moan.

Another explosion rocked the deck as I slid out of my seat to find Token and figure out what was going on. Vixxen was clearly not going to be much of a help. For an AI she was such a waste of space!

And that was when I noticed it. Freezing, I lifted my armoured hand again and stared at it for a good while.

"That's different," I mused, scanning up and down what looked like a new arm, then down a brand new pair of legs.

The body-parts weren't new of course. It was what was covering my body; that was new.

Nothing of my old armour remained. No longer was I a charcoal armoured badass of bulky proportions. I was covered in a sleek, black coloured under-suit with armoured components covering the abdomen and key joins. Covering the un-armoured parts of my suit was grey-ish green impact plates following my narrow, slight build. It probably looked like girl-size armour, but it fitted me perfectly, right down to the cup size.

I gaped looking down at the brand new suit of armour that seemed to have materialised out of nowhere.

"Vixxen. Why is my armour different?" I wasn't really complaining. It was a badass new suit, and I was glad to be out of the 'violation-stained' rags I'd worn down on Olduvai. But the implications of being in a new suit were a little worrying.

"I did some upgrades while you were sleeping," she admitted.

Implications confirmed. "You undressed me, didn't you?"

"Oh, God yes," the AI giggled at the memories. "Besides, you're technically not an ODST anymore. It seemed disrespectful not to do something about your armour."

"And 'Spartan' armour was the next logical step!?" I cried.

"Okay, so Spartans make me hot the same way Grand Torino's make other girls wet. Can you blame a girl for wanting to roll in style?"

Deciding not to push the subject, I ran out of the cockpit and into the main corridor running down the spine of the ship. All the while I was getting a feel for the new suit. I'd never admit it out loud for Vixxen to hear, but it was nice! It seemed like a tight, tailored fit. But that was almost a good thing. The armoured plates weren't bulky or clumsy. It was like - and try not to imagine me wriggling my ass in your face while I say this - I was wearing nuthin' at all...

Nuthin' at all...

Nuthin' at all...

Nuthin' at all...

...

Good luck with your psychiatry bills.

I could feel the intensity of each explosion grow as I made my way closer to the engineering section positioned high at the rear of the ship. Using some judgement I managed to discern that whatever was shooting at us couldn't quite get a lock on the small cross section of the transport. Not that our ship was 'small' per-se. Just in the grand scheme of things, considering the fast emptiness of space in every direction, we were technically a tiny target. Like shooting a flea with a sniper rifle.

And the ship's stealth coating wasn't making it particularly easy for the attackers either.

The megalodon-class drop-ship was the missing evolutionary link between the ground-pounding heavy lift drop-ships used to ferry equipment and personnel in and out of orbit, and the behemoth starships used to ferry the same between solar systems. Fitted with VTOL boosters that could produce several thousands of kilanewtons of lift, a Shaw-Fujikawa slip-space drive and a cargo hold capable of holding at least two scorpion-class tanks side by side, it was no shock that megalodon-class ships retired from military service were all the rage with the civilian population. Decommissioned or refitted megalodons were often repurposed as privately owned freighters.

Our ship had been repurposed as an escape vessel. It had carried us off Olduvai and into slip-space. We didn't care much about anything else, so long as it kept flying. So running into the engineering hold I got my first look at the ship's inner workings.

I went quite pale.

Of all the ships Token could have stolen for our escape from Olduvai, he stole the biggest piece of shit in the proud UNSC fleet. Conduits were exposed and sparking with ribbons and tangles of wire stringing from one wall to the other like clotheslines.

At the core was the slip-space drive, a great big pillar with glowy bits and pieces in a cage of piping pumping coolant all over the place. And right on the top was supposed to be a spinning wheel, almost like a flywheel or a gyroscope. Only it wasn't something so technical looking. Not really.

It was a hamster wheel containing a very buff hamster.

I was suddenly very conscious of the dangers of traveling at translight speeds in this ship.

Though it may have explained a thing or two about how Token had managed to steal it. It was obviously being scrapped.

Speaking of Token, the man himself was standing by one of the patchy panels, desperately twisting together sparking wires and pulling out unnecessary parts (at least, the way he was tearing out circuits and cables and tossing them over his shoulder I had to assume they were unnecessary... and hope). He was clad from the collar down in army green marine armour, khaki combat trousers and an under-armour shirt underneath. Fitted over his dark hair was a service cap and screwed into the corner of his mouth was the customary cigar stub marking him the badass he was.

Token's features were hard. Everything about him screamed hard. His chiselled features, a sturdy square jaw - that was probably hard enough to slice through titanium. Hell, you might even be able to break an alien across his face. His moustache was probably made of Kevlar and each dark-chocolate freckle was likely the absorbed soul of each man he'd killed in mortal combat.

There were a fair few on his cheeks.

"Token!?" I called as an explosion caused the ship to lurch sideways. I caught myself on a support beam before becoming face-buddies with the deck. "What is going on?"

The man scoffed, answering without looking up. "We're under attack, obviously! One of those blasts took out the comms-array. I'm trying to patch through to the attackers and get them to stop firing!"

"Who's shooting at us?" I asked moving closer before another blast shook the ship and threw me on my ass.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Token looked up. His expression immediately switched from determined to confused at the sight of me.

"Are you wearing armour made for girls?" he eventually asked.

I was taken aback by the comment. "I look like a badass. What makes you say that?"

"That's an armoured thong, dude," he said pointing at my crotch.

I glared, putting on an argumentative tone. "It's comfortable."

"That's not comforting."

I growled. "Token! Focus! What's happening?"

"We're under fire by an unidentified ship! I'm trying to hail the fuckers!" a shower of sparks threw off his cap and poofed his afro for a few moments. "Ah! There we go!" he grabbed hold of the comms-unit pinned to his shoulder and squeezed the button. "Hostile vessel, hold your fire. You are firing on a civilian ship!"

The woman's reply was immediate. Terse, strict, she reminded me of a certain school teacher. The sexy, 'do not fuck with' one. "Identify yourselves," she snapped.

"This is Captain Token of the Civilian Space Guild vessel, Picard." Token looked at me looking quite proud, but faltered as he may have sensed I was glaring at him through my visor. "Uh... correction. This is First Officer Token of the CSG Picard. We were en-route to the UNSC border colonies."

"Stand by."

Pressing a hand over the mic, Token whispered, "I'm on hold."

"Yeah." As if I didn't fucking know.

Of course, Vixxen piped up at the exact wrong - or right, depending on your personal preference - moment in the conversation. "You know what I'd like to hold?"

"How about you hold your tongue?" I snapped.

"But I could do so much more with my tongue."

"Don't make me firewall you."

"I'll be good."

The woman's voice from the attacking ship returned as I realised our ship wasn't being juggled around like a midget in a circus anymore. "CSG Picard_, identify your captain."_

Token and I looked at each other for a good while, then shrugged at the same time. Leaning over I spoke into Token's comms.

"This is Captain Seth Sawyer. How can we help you, ma'am?"

"This is Shipmistress Neyla 'Teyselee of the Covenant ship, the Succubus_. Power down your systems and prepare to be boarded!"_

My heart sank into the pit of my stomach at that quick revelation and I locked eyes with Token. "I think maybe I should have given them a fake name." As if that could have made a difference for the Covenant.

"Hindsight's a bitch that way," Token sighed.

Explosions rocked the ship and threw us to the ground again. Immediately there were sparks all across the engineering deck, forcing us out of the room that was slowly turning into a safety-inspector's wet dream. The buff hamster through it all seemed to just keep calm and carry on.

Sealing the door to engineering as flames licked at the small circular window set into the metal panel, we managed to catch ourselves on the walls of the main corridor.

"My vote!" Vixxen cried in a panic on my armour's external speaker. "We surrender to the highest bidder as love slaves."

Token and I shared a look, silently agreeing that was a very bad idea.

"You're still a resident in my armour systems, right?" I asked.

"I am."

"Good, so I can still do this." I pressed a switch on my gauntlet and killed the external speaker.

_"Aww! C'mon, puddin'!"_she complained on the broad-frequency communicator.

I hit another switch with an evil chuckle. "And mute. God, I love the mute button."

Another explosion rocked us. Moving about halfway along the spine of the ship, I thumbed the keypad for an overhead observatory window. The circular iris of armour protecting a circular window above our heads slid open to reveal a stretch of space beyond.

And a few kilometres off our top hull was a ship. The tell-tale sleek lines of a Covenant ship to specific. Judging by the shape and size, it was a frigate. Small for the Covenant she still dwarfed us, and with the smooth, sleek, sexy design of the outer hull, the christened name Succubus definitely suited her. She was just missing a whiplash tail and kinky fuzzy horns.

Once upon a time my source code read badass = true. When the Covenant attacked Olduvai, my badass seemed to turn to jelly. The worst thing about it was that attack wasn't even a proper attack on the colony. The planet wasn't being annihilated by a super armada like what had hit Reach. We were bent over and butt-raped by a support fleet of all things! A support fleet comprised almost entirely out of alien girls!

God help us if they'd sent the girl-scouts.

So anyway, butt-raping by alien lingerie models with plasma guns wasn't the only kind of rape going on. I had my fair share of sexy encounters with the ladies of Vipress fleet. And I was about to have some more it seemed as the Succubus' tractor beam dragged the Picard into the gaping mouth of the frigate's fighter bay.

I remember thinking the figure of the sleek Covenant vessel looked like an enormous praying-mantis looming over a mate she was about to fuck silly. I also remember being terrified by the thought as praying-mantis females had the nasty habit of eating anything they had sex with.

Looking up at the looming sight with me, Token seemed to descent into a panic. "What do we do? What do we do!?"

Thankfully I managed to keep a pretty cool head. But that was only because a very good idea came to me as I looked down into the cargo hold and spotted an askew deck panel, revealing a dark little hidey-hole beneath. My primal survival instinct kicked in and I did was every brave cave-man would have done when faced by a hungry T-Rex.

I barely hesitated, grabbing Token by the arm and pulling him towards the askew panel. "Hide!"

It was as good a plan as any.

~~~

"This is a bad plan."

"This is an awesome plan," I corrected.

"Does nobody care to hear my sexy plan?"

"Shut up!" Token and I hissed at the same time. We may have been butting heads about our next course of action, but at least we could agree on one thing.

The sharp click of heels on the decks over our heads died down and I risked a peek. The deck-plate covering us shifted a little as I lifted it a little with the top of my helmet and peeked through the narrow slit provided. All I could see was feet. Three pairs to be exact. Two sets of boots belonging to some very skinny elites, and one set belonged to a grunt.

"Mistress, we search ship," came the placid wheeze of the grunt delivering his report. "But no humans aboard."

In response was the terse voice of the shipmistress who had announced we were going to be boarded over the radio. "Search it again. There were no escape pods on board, they couldn't have escaped!"

With a panicked waddle, the grunt made himself scarce and scampered away to help the search parties scour the rest of the ship. The elite boots, both pairs definitely belonging to females, turned and marched across the cargo bay, down the ramp and out into the Covenant ship, the Succubus.

Twisting my head from side to side I double checked the coast was clear, then lifted the panel away. Climbing out of the hole, I crouched by the edge and looked down to see Token poke his head out.

"Now what, Obi Wan?" Token whispered.

Keeping my voice as low as his, I decided to go with Token's reference as our plan of action. "Disable the tractor beam and fly our butts out of here."

"Shiny," Token scoffed. "But what if we can't do that? My 'alien ship operation' is a little non-existent."

"Yeah, I skipped that class too," I snarked back. "Failing that we find an escape pod and haul ass."

Escape pod had the word 'escape' in it, and as such Token warmed up to it with a smile. "That's a plan!"

"Yeah, plan-B is usually the better one anyway."

Helping Token out of the hole, we quietly moved to the ramp and looked out into the Succubus' cargo hold. The Covenant gravity tethers had forced us down among a mess of cargo, docked fighters and ground vehicles. There were no guards or patrols posted. The Succubus was a small frigate by Covenant standards anyway, perhaps it was a breakaway from the Vipress fleet that had attacked Olduvai. Hopefully they'd suffered from the ass kicking in that system and were under-staffed.

We could only hope. So deciding not to tempt fate and be ready for anything, I unholstered the gun stuck to my hip.

My trusty M7S submachine gun - or SMG - had seen about as much shit as my own body had. Every scratch, every bare-metal scuff, every ding, chip and dent was a scar; a story. The collapsible stock was only half-extendible, the vertical fore-grip refused to close thanks to some damage to the forward hinge, and the magazine receiver was so temperamental I was probably the only one in the universe who could efficiently reload the weapon. There were flecks of alien blood caked to it here and there like a funky paint-job of glitter and chem-light fluid.

She was probably the only one who wouldn't either betray, leave or try to rape me - aside from Token that is... Vixxen, we shall have to see. Back to the point; my M7S - my Faith - had only ever let me down when she ran out of bullets. And we had long since remedied that problem with a replenished supply of magazines.

Token watched me cock the weapon and press the stock against my shoulder before following me down the ramp. As we moved, he whispered, "hey, Sawyer. I see you're sticking with old faithful there."

I nodded. "Yeah. I decided to call her Faith, since I never actually named my weapon." Token reached over his shoulder and pulled a bulky looking assault rifle off his back. "How about you? What is that beast?"

Token's weapon was a beast to say the least. It seemed front heavy with three individual RIS front ends, each with its own barrel forming a triple-barrel pulse rifle with a telescopic stock and what looked like a 'close-encounter-arbiter' attached to the front grip.

Token wore an excited little grin. "I settled for the modest ol' pulse rifle with a six-hundred round clip and a three-hundred RPM rate-of-fire that has an under-slung shotgun loaded with dragon's breath. It also has a toaster for pop-tarts."

It went without saying that modest was not the best word to use in describing that weapon. I was left for words, staring at him over my shoulder. "... awesome."

"You know what they say about guys with big guns." Vixxen giggled.

"What do they say?"

_"Big hands."_Vixxen explained simply.

Glad we'd avoided some dirty remark, I swept through the alien cargo hold trying to find an exit...

"... good for fingering."

I coughed and spluttered.

Keeping our heads low we lost ourselves among a pile of crates. Stacks of sleek boxes stacked high to form an orderly labyrinth across practically half the chamber broke line of sight further than fifty metres. A good hiding spot from the patrols wandering the cavernous cargo hold. But as high as the crates were stacked, they were still nowhere near the high ceiling. The vast amount of space within the Covenant ship was not an uncommon feature among the aliens.

I'd always considered the design to be a waste of space. Mind you, this was only the second Covenant ship I'd been on in my life, so I wasn't quite ready to begin judging their naval armada.

Pausing at an intersection, Token and I peeked out at the same time, covering each other's backs as we cleared a path towards the nearest chamber wall. Where there was a wall there _had_to be a door. And where there was a door there had to be an exit. The sooner we were out of the open space and in the confined, shadowy corridors the easier it would be to move unnoticed.

Pausing at the last junction to a doorway framed up ahead, I took a knee and peered out across the cargo hold. Grunts - the squat little cannon fodder of the Covenant with comical stubby limbs and clumsy environment suits to simulate their homeworld's methane rich atmosphere - had fallen all over the Picard in ranks, assisted by engineers in stripping the ship down for parts. Already they were at it like gulls picking at a beached whale, bits of the skeletal structure exposed where armour was removed, engines ripped off and scaffolding erected to dismantle the more sensitive electronic systems located high on the sides of the ships.

Something told me plan-A wasn't going to work so well.

Bidding the sweet prince goodnight, I lowered my weapon and followed Token out of the cargo hold with a pang of regret.

Slipping into the maze of corridors running through the ship, Token and I hugged the shadows along the walls, pausing at every corner and junction to check our heading and sweep the corners. For the longest time we thought the ship was abandoned. We made no contact with any Covenant, not even a measly grunt.

Then it all hit us at once.

He must have spotted movement, because Token grabbed me by the shoulder and yanked me hard into a conveniently shadowy alcove. Flat on my ass, wondering what had prompted the quick manoeuvre. Looking up, I regretted wondering.

A near complete Covenant bestiary walked right towards our concealed position.

The towering silhouette of the elite, the barrel physique of a brute and the low, lithe and sneaky presence of a jackal bore down on use, so close I could feel the vibrations of every footfall in the deck plates.

I swallowed hard at the sight of them. Needless to say I was worried. Not worried they might give us a second glance and pick us out of the darkness. I was worried at a trend that seemed to run through the group.

Token looked at me inquisitively, picking up on the trend that was bathing me in cold sweat. Much like the Covenant forces that had attacked Olduvai, these forces were female. Only whereas all the ground troops on Olduvai had been male leaving females in the naval forces, the Succubus seemed to have an exclusively female crew.

The elites were a little shorter than the average male warrior, clad in armour tailored to the sleek curvature of their bodies, particularly the torso region despite the lack of armour on the mid-riff. Their powerful bodies were much more subtle, lean muscle within an athletic physique. Their helmets allowed for their plumes, and they carried themselves with more of an upright posture, like height was directly proportionate to sexiness.

Brutes in particular were much more curvaceous than their males. Buxom and almost cuddly, the powerful Amazonians seemed to care more for their appearance - particularly their fur - than males did. Their coats had almost fluffy qualities, and they had lighter greyish coloured hair with white-blonde manes. It seemed whereas the dazzling plumes of the elite females were likely an attractive feature for elite males, with the brutes females might grow elaborate manes to attract a mate.

Even I had to admit, some of those fleecy manes looked pretty snuggly. It was a pity their fierce faces and tusk-like teeth ruined all aesthetics. As presentable as they were with neatly combed coats and armoured corsets, they were still predators to the core.

Finally there were the jackals. Mind you, the jackals present looked more like their distant cousins, the skirmisher. In a fairly coiled posture, skirmishers had lighter, leaner - almost tomboyish - bodies than the average jackal, with crowns of feathers rather than the jagged quills regular jackals had. Watching the feathered lizards stalk by I had a sudden revelation.

Skirmishers were just female jackals. No wonder they were so hateful - am I right, fellas?

The group walked, plodded and stalked by with a certain allure, like they were walking a runway at a fashion show without paying our little shadow any mind. As they rounded the corner I popped my head out and gave a sigh of relief. A sigh that died in my throat when I thought about the grunts wandering about the ship.

Since I couldn't see many bodily features thanks to their pressurised armour, I had to go by the assumption the grunts were members of the fairer sex too. Could be the Succubus' entire crew was female. Which - especially since their captain knew me by name - would mean that this ship was a breakaway from Vipress fleet.

Moving stubbornly on through the corridors, both of us refusing to admit we were lost and had no idea what we were doing, Token and I took cover several times more to avoid patrols similar to the last. Sometimes they were just a small group of grunts, prattling like highschool girls about all sorts of alien gossip. Sometimes they were a couple of female elites passing the time of their patrol with idle talk of high-society things. Other times they were a mix-match gaggle like the first patrol, exchanging jokes and laughing at the expense of their husbands and boyfriends.

Clearly whereas the males of their elitist species were always at each other's throats over matters of pride, honour and status, it seemed the girls simply didn't have any fucks to give, and so managed to get along just fine. That of course made things much harder for me, as it seemed there would be no 'enemy-of-my-enemy' advantages here.

"Wow," Vixxen commented quietly. "So many alien hotties wandering around."

"We see it, Vix," Token growled, walking backwards to secure my rear. "We have eyes too."

"Did you forget to turn off your swag again, Token?"

I batted the side of my helmet, though unfortunately it hurt me more than it did Vixxen.

"What do you think will happen if we're caught?" Vixxen added.

"Incarceration and execution?" I asked.

"Hah! Not a chance. I accessed the ship's crew roster. Every member of the crew is female. You know what that means, right?"

"Don't be on board when it's that special time of the month?"

"Shut up, Token."

"It means that..."

"Shut up, Vix!" With everything that had happened so far I knew exactly what that meant.

Token would be executed. I would be tied up and held down. Then each of the Succubus' crew would have their dirty way with me, Vixxen either joking about it or joining in the whole time.

With that in mind I didn't dare stop moving for fear of being pinned down or cornered. Making our way towards what was assumingly the front of the ship, if we could identify the bridge we would be in business. Covenant captains weren't ones to run from a fight, least of all to utilise escape pods. But even still, in the event there was a VIP on board every bridge was outfitted with an emergency escape pod, the same way UNSC ships were fitted with VIP pods for bridge crew.

Spotting an open bulkhead, I moved to it hoping we'd found some sort of command centre. I was disappointed when we made it to the threshold, though panic overrode all other emotions and I leapt into action.

It was my turn to grab Token and kick him to the floor so he wouldn't be spotted. I admit, it was satisfying.

As Token fell into the shadows on one end of the door-frame, I took cover by the opposite, leaning out just enough so I could peer into the next room. It was a barracks lined with bunks and filled with bodies. Live ones; every one of them a Covenant warrior all dressed up for combat, but no war to go to.

And naturally they seemed a little agitated. But it wasn't the mix match of at least forty elites, brutes and skirmishers watching an altercation in their midst that worried me. Sure, if they saw us we were screwed.

It was the individuals involved in the standoff that bothered me, mainly because I knew who they were.

Chieftain Ressentia was a model to all female brutes. Standing a head or so taller than her fellows, the brute was clad in brushed silver power armour with a large rustic pauldron on her right shoulder inscribed with meticulous alien runes. Similar runes engraved the head of a massive stone hammer she carried diagonally across her back. She'd been one of the brutes I had bumped into on Olduvai. Luckily it hadn't been much more than a light bump, but I had escaped captivity under her watch, so in all likelihood if we ever met face to face again she would be unhappy to say the least.

Next there was Nezz. Bright red and lacking any kind of armour aside from her natural exoskeleton, the queen of the drones stood facing Ressentia in a hostile stance. To either side were one of her lackeys, hissing and chirping as they prepared to defend their queen.

The drones were an evolutionary recluse to me. Whereas male drones were squat insectoids with almost round beetle-like bodies, females were far too humanoid. They had tall, lithe bodies with a sleek, curvy exo-skeleton that drew attention to the rounded mounds on the bust. Yes, boobs were indeed completely useless on insects, I understand that and agree with you calling 'shenanigans.' But unfortunately those mounds weren't mammaries you and I know and love. They concealed a set of egg-sacks where the drone's young were produced before being injected into a hapless victim for gestation.

Don't ask me how I know that. The same way you shouldn't ask me how I knew Nezz.

"Come on then, insect!" Ressentia spat, drops of phlegm spraying the drone's face.

Nezz didn't flinch, fluttering her wings and buzzing like an angry hornet. "I told you to stay away from my nest!" she pointed to a cot cocooned in resin making it look like an over-sized alien bee-hive, fortified by jagged termite-hills. "Do not touch my stuff!"

"You should have thought of that before taking my stuff, vermin!" Ressentia retorted.

As the drone and the brute bickered, several elites stood by with their arms crossed, curious as the skirmishers to see the outcome of the argument while several more drones dropped from the ceiling to re-enforce their queen. In response several of the brutes present moved up behind their chieftain, snarling like angry dogs.

I held out a hand to Token about to indicate we should move if a fight broke out, until a voice cut through the barracks and I gestured him to freeze.

"All of you, shut your fucking cock-holsters!" an expensive female voice cried. It was laced with one of those posh English accents, the kind that when uttered a curse word sent a twitch through my loins.

Peering across the room I saw a sexy silhouette rise from the bunk concealed in the shadows in one corner. With a slight pitch of her rounded hips, the tall slender figure stepped into the purple tinted lights of the barracks to reveal herself.

The Arbiter of the Covenant. A tall seven-and-something foot tall elite, her deft curves were clearly that of a female. She had long athletic legs, strong subtle bands of muscle in her arms, a narrow waist and a rousingly modest bust. She was clad - mostly - in her gunmetal grey armour adorned with the usual Covenant ceremonial flair, the plates all engraved in alien swirls and texts. The chest armour protected just that, forming a low V-shape at the front that revealed the lacy blue bra she wore under the armour. Even at our range I had crane my neck a little so my gaze wasn't sucked into the black hole that was her cleavage. Much of her legs were revealed like her arms, only her wrists and hands protected by a set of gauntlets, and her armoured boots buckled up over the shins and ending just under her digitigrade knees.

Arbiter Mira 'Xesolee looked exactly as she had when we'd first met back on Olduvai. Her helmet still missing to reveal her long wavy charcoal coloured plume cascading down her neck and over her smooth shoulders. The only difference was a mark marred into her light ashy grey skin. The left side of her bare mid-riff seemed to be branded, and recently too.

Like a grizzly tattoo of sorts, the mark consisted of some curved dashes and dots, almost like an identifying mark. Where she'd been branded the flesh was still red and raw, but clearly was healing quickly.

But as painful as her new mark looked, I found it hard to find any pity for the arbiter. And with good reason. Were she not surrounded by the others I would have run in and tackled her with hate and discontent.

Nezz hissed as Mira told her to shut up, her underlings mimicking the sound and even the actions. "Why should we take orders from you, arbiter?" She spat Mira's title with venom, like she was disgusted but also oddly jealous of the arbiter.

"Do you want my fucking help?" Mira asked dangerously. "Because if this keeps up, you'll get fucking nothing from me."

The aliens in Mira's presence shifted silently, easing out of their offensive stances.

"You want to find Sawyer?" Mira suddenly said, and there were nods all around the barracks. "You want to find him and fuck him up for making all you whores look like fucking morons?" Again, nods all around and a growl from Ressentia. "Then you'll need my help to find him."

The aliens seemed to stand down and Mira took her leave from them. But before she did, Ressentia gave a rough chuckle.

"Just be careful you don't speak in that tone to your mistress," the brute growled with an evil smile. "She might find some space on your skinny little twig-figure for another mark of shame!"

I noticed Mira miss a step and pause at the comment, with a subtle brush of her fingers over the brand cut into her side.

Clenching her fists, the arbiter elegantly stepped out of the room, giving the crew one last glance over her shoulder. That gave Token and I enough time to back up into the shadows and wait for the chic elite female to stride right past, oblivious to the humans within strangling-range.

As she passed I could catch the hint of her musk through my helmet. The last thing I'd smelled before she kicked me out of her life. Clearly I wasn't taking getting dumped very well, but then neither would you if your ex dumped you by kicking you out a moving drop-ship.

"We're gonna grab her," I suddenly said as we melted from the shadows again.

Token scoffed. "Now is not a time to cop a feel with your hot alien girlfriend."

"That's not what I'm talking about," I hissed. Then realising what he'd said, I added, "and she's not my girlfriend. She stole the co-ordinates to Earth, remember?"

"I don't," Token hissed back, waving an accusing finger. "I was dead, remember?"

I shook my head. "Whatever. She stole a copy of the co-ordinates to Earth, so if she's here, the Covenant have those co-ordinates. We gotta get them back or the alien bastards find and destroy Earth!"

"Fine. But you gotta promise next time I get to formulate the suicide plan."

"Deal." On the inside I was laughing at Token. As if there was going to be a next time. Hah!

... oh, wait. This is _me_we're talking about.

~~~

I had to admit at the time, I was getting pretty good at this whole planning business. Our snatch-and-grab went off so smoothly it would have given an Office of Naval Intelligence spook a raging hard-on.

Then again, there wasn't much to it. We followed Mira and managed to flank her through a service corridor. Then when she came to a lonely crossroad somewhere around the mid-ship, Token jumped her. And by jumped her, I mean straight up did what I really felt like doing and tackled the fuck right out of her.

It was a better idea to let Token doing the tackling though, just in case she managed to pull a fast one and grab one of her plasma swords. I know that sounds cruel, kind of putting my friend in a dangerous situation, but if you knew Token as well as I did, you'd know he'd pull through just about anything. Even death.

While Token had her on the ground, Mira managed to pull her right arm from his grip. With a furious growl she flicked back her wrist and a compartment on her gauntlet opened up. For a split second I thought she was about to pull a 'Spiderman' and shoot Token with her sticky web (I just re-read that sentence, and I gotta say... ew). However a pair of small robotic arms popped from the compartment on her gauntlet and pressed the hilt of a plasma blade into her palm. With a light flick of the wrist the glowing two-pronged blade flashed to life and she turned the points to Token's face.

Looking up from where his face had been embedded in her boobs throughout the tackle, Token's grin turned to an 'oh shit' expression.

At least until Mira heard the click of Faith's safety catch and the cold end of a suppressor pressed against her temple.

"Hey, bitch. Remember me?" I asked pulling my SMG back a bit. Token let go of the arbiter and crawled away as Mira disabled her blade.

Looking up with surprise, I saw a flash of happiness in Mira's eyes. "Baby, you're alive!" she cried, and for a moment I was thrown, actually convinced she was genuinely glad to see me. Though looking a little confused suddenly, she said, "why are you wearing girl's armour?"

Gritting my teeth I shouldered my gun and leaned forward a little as if ready to fire while she crawled to her feet. "It's not girl's armour!" I held out my hand adding, "now hand 'em over."

Patting her chest-plate, Mira gave me a quirky grin as best her mandibles would allow. "Why don't you come and fucking take them? You know I'd never stop you."

"First, fuck off," I snapped. "Second, I'm not talking about your boobs. I'm talking about the co-ordinates for Earth you stole from me before booting me from your ship!"

The holo-pod on my armour shone and my stomach churned. Before I could even think of making a mad dash for the 'off' switch, there was a flash of light and Vixxen's avatar stood between us. Though instead of being hot and bothered like she usually was, ready with some dirty comment; she actually looked genuinely peeved.

"The co-ordinates you removed from me while violating my body, might I add?" She didn't really care about being allowed to add it, since she made her addition to the conversation anyway.

And as quickly as she had appeared with her glare, her entire disposition changed. Lunging forward, she gave Mira bedroom eyes while hugging the elite closely. "Would you do it again? Sawyer hasn't been paying my body the attention it needs, y'know?"

I disabled Vixxen's avatar and muted her again. "Vix, shut up. Mira, hand 'em over."

Clearing her throat, Mira looked a little sheepish, rubbing her neck with one hand as she put her sword away. Locking eyes with me, she actually looked genuinely glad. "Look, sawyer. I really am sorry I left you on Olduvai." There was even a whole two sentences without a curse-word crow-barred in there. Something was up, but I wasn't sure what yet. "Quite a lot has happened since then, and we need to talk-..."

I cut her off. "We need to talk about the co-ordinates and when you're going to hand them over!"

Frowning, Mira gave a huff, visibly irritated now. She was clearly trying to tell me something important, but I was still far from forgiving her for what she'd done. She could hand over those co-ordinates she stole and then maybe I'd listen to what she had to say.

"About the co-ordinates. Funny fucking story," Mira said returning to her usual foul-mouthed self. "I was gonna sell 'em to the highest bidder when this fucking frigate comes out of fucking nowhere and corners me. I had to play it cool as fuck or be blown up, so I kinda had to ally myself with the fuckable shipmistress."

Token interjected confusedly at that part, raising an inquisitive hand. "The fuckable shipmistress? What does that mean? Does that mean, she...?"

I groaned, knowing exactly what she meant. "Oh... oh, you. You didn't sleep with her."

Mira shrugged sheepishly. "Girl's gotta survive."

Token's face twitched as he looked the alien woman over from head to toe. "I honestly dunno how to feel about that."

"Where are the co-ordinates?"

Mira answered, "in the shipmistress' stateroom."

That complicated things.

Token actually laughed, throwing up his arms. "Great. Why don't we swing around Fort Knox on the way home, just to wrap up this awesome easy-going evening?"

"Chill," I told him calmly, already formulating another kick-ass plan. I was on a roll! "Mira's on good terms with the sexy shipmistress. She's gonna walk in and get the co-ordinates for us."

"And why would I do that instead of just turning you in?" Mira asked tartly.

"Because if we're caught," I replied in an identical tone, "we're gonna tell them all about how you've actually defected from the Covenant."

Mira looked unconvinced. "They wouldn't believe you."

"Wanna risk it?"

Mira cracked and rubbed her neck. "... fuck. Alright, fine. But you owe me a threesome after this," she added.

"Doesn't the line actually go; 'you owe me dinner after this'?" I glanced confusedly to Token for confirmation, but he just shrugged.

As she was leading the way to the shipmistress' quarters, Mira threw her arms up dejectedly. "Dinner alone won't fucking cut it!"

~~~

Mira held up her fist. Unfortunately I was too slow and crashed headlong into her shapely ass. And token in turn crashed into mine with a distinct clang of armour.

Frowning, Mira glanced back at us and sighed. "Idiots."

Rubbing visor, I shook off the blow. "What is it?" I whispered.

Pointing at ta door to our side, Mira indicated, "this is it. The shipmistress' stateroom."

"Are you sure?" Token asked.

"Yeah, actually," Mira huffed matter-of-factly, "I spend quite a lot of time in here."

"Kinky."

"Shut up, Vix." Glancing around and slotting my SMG onto the mag-lock holster on my back I said, "we should cover you in case something goes wrong."

That caused a smile to spread across Mira's mandibles. "Aww. You concern gets me all dewy, babe." As she giggled, I rolled my eyes, but unfortunately she couldn't see through my visor. Under my blank stare she beckoned us to a metal grating stuck to the corridor wall. "These are engineer ducts. Sneaky little bastards use them to get around the ship. Should give you a kinky fucking peep-show of the shipmistress' quarters."

Sounded like a plan; but then again plans had been on the 'suicidal' side of the scale today. Still, none of the Covenant chicks were going to be looking for us in there. Seriously, watch the movies. The air-ducts are the last place people look for the intrepid heroes.

Unfortunately just getting in there proved to be difficult... and I really wish I could say that was a common problem for me.

Taking hold of the grate I gave it a good few tugs, but it wouldnnt move. "Yup. That's stuck on there good."

Token chuckled and pushed me a side, flexing his fingers and spitting into his palms. "Lemme show you how a real man pulls things off."

"Gross."

Taking hold of the grate, Token gave it a good few tugs, harder than I had been hanging off the cover. And on the fourth tug, his face turning bright red from the effort, his fingers slipped and he skidded down the hall on his ass.

Mira sighed impatiently and took hold of the grate herself, pulling it loose with a single tug.

"Okay, but I loosened it for you."

I shook my head slipping into the corridor. "Just stay here and make sure the coast stays clear," I told Token as he walked over rubbing his butt where he'd landed.

Pushing on I activated by helmet's VISR; colours became a little sharper as an IR light beamed out ahead of me, invisible to the naked eye but lighting up everything for me.

I paused at a grate set into the side of the tunnel. I knelt down peered down through the slats into the room beyond. The captain's stateroom was quite like the rest of the ship, designed much like a cathedral or church, desperately trying to live up to the holy-war the vessel had originally be designed to wage. The muted pinks and purples made the room feel quite like a hooker's bordello though.

The shipmistress herself wasn't quite better off. She was out of the armour I'd seen parts of her wearing earlier, replaced by a silky silver gown that followed the contours of her sleek body as if she were draped in sheets of mercury. The sangheili woman was built athletic and curvy like Mira, her violet hair was shoulder length and the hip length of her gown complimented her legs that went on for days.

The doors swished shut behind Mira as she sauntered into the room casually, looking around as if she were seeing the four walls for the first time. Something in her eyes was different from what I was used to though. Under the shipmistress' glare Mira seemed to lose her dominating edge and seemed more like a naughty girl who'd been sent to the principal's office. She held that rebellious glow in her eyes, but something in Mira had been broken by this shipmistress at some point in time.

My eyes found the brand on her mid-riff and I got a pretty good idea as to what had happened.

"You had better have good news for me, arbiter," the shipmistress snapped tersely.

Mira managed to keep her casual façade intact. "Well good evening to you too, Neyla," she said as she rounded the shipmistress - Neyla - and sat down on the rounded bed.

Under her armoured figure the mattress gave way, while Mira leaned back on her elbows and elegantly crossed her legs. "The human ship is locked down. Sawyer has nowhere to run. He'll turn up."

Neyla huffed with her hands resting on her hips. The front of the gown was undone and fell open slightly, the light material falling around her left breast instead of over it. She either didn't care or didn't notice. I on the other hand caught myself staring at the perfect orb of flesh dotted by a delicious looking dark purple nipple.

Don't judge me. I'm only a man.

"I know why I want to catch Sawyer," Mira continued to say, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. "But why do you want him?"

"I have my reasons," Neyla growled dangerously as she moved forward, towering over Mira. Without warning she lunged forward and pinned the arbiter flat against the bed. "You'd best check your tongue, arbiter."

Mira slowly relaxed under the shipmistress weight. "I though you liked it when I worked my tongue."

I watched as the shipmistress' stony expression cracked into a smile. "Only sometimes."

Not being much of an expert on sangheili anatomy, despite having explored it quite thoroughly, I still don't really understand how sangheili kissing works. As Neyla leaned in on Mira I figured I was watching them make out. But it was just a lot of facial rubbing and wrestling. Although I had to admit the sight of Mira slowly stripping Neyla of her gown and letting her smoosh her breasts up against the curved surfaces of the arbiter armour was quite arousing.

Mira gently pushed and rolled Neyla onto her back, settling between the woman's legs. Her hands explored every deft curve of the shipmistress' body as she slowly slid downward. She rubbed up around the mounds on her chest, gentle squeezes testing their firmness, thumbs gently flicking the hard, erect nipples before her fingers followed the subtle notches of her ribcage and the shallow grooves of her toned mid-riff.

Neyla's breathing escalated as she shut her eyes in anticipation. Her mouth went slack and I swore I saw her hot breath mist past her lips.

Mira found the taught hips and squeezed as one hand stroked Neyla's inner thigh. The shipmistress trembled, and then her hips twitched as Mira finally hit her mark. The slit of darker purple flesh between a swollen mound between Neyla's thighs was barely visible from my angle. But it was kind of obvious what Mira was playing with judging from the other sangheili's reaction.

Mira gently stroked up and down the moist slit, working Neyla into a panting, heaving mess. Between breaths she broke into small moans, easily mistaken for pleas for more.

Mira turned her hand over and probed forward. The squelch of warm, wet flesh forced apart by the digits was deafening over Neyla's quiet coos of pleasure. Though her small gasp quickly drowned out the sound as her head pitched back and mandibles yawned wide in a long silent scream of agony. Her hands gripped hands-fulls of the bedsheets and tore them up as if she'd fall off the universe unless she held on to something. Neyla's legs we rehanging frozen in the air, trembling slightly; with exertion or pleasing agony, I couldn't tell.

Looking pleased with herself, Mira straightened up between the shipmistress legs and pressed her belt buckle against the back of her own wrist. Pushing forward as if thrusting a strap-on dildo into her partner, she snaked a second long, slender digit into Neyla's pleading folds and was rewarded by a slightly louder cry from the shipmistress.

"Yes..." she gasped breathlessly, rocking her head to one side and biting into the sheets. "Don't stop."

Mira had no intention to, smoothly working her fingers to the knuckle into the sopping, quivering tunnel of the shipmistress. As she did she ran the tip of her thumb over a small nub of flesh just above the opening and fitfully rubbed the clit from side to side.

Neyla convulsed as her opening clamped down hard over the two fingers twisted into a makeshift phallus inside her.

"Oooooh, fffffuck~!" Neyla crooned reaching up and grabbing Mira by the collar. "F-f-fuck m-me! G-go-gods, yes!"

Mira gave her clit a firm push like she was triggering a salvo of plasma torpedoes from the weapons station up on the bridge and Neyla was appropriately hit with an explosion. She bucked her hips hard and a small squirt of juices pressed past the arbiter's digits, drooling down her knuckles and pooling on the bed.

Mira didn't stop, continuing her assault by working her fingers in and out of the shipmistress' convulsing canal. I would have continued watching as Mira forcefully finger-banged her new girlfriend into a slobbering mess, but I was cut off by a hand on my shoulder.

I jolted, almost hard enough to throw myself forward and out through the ventilation grate and into the bed right next to the shipmistress. That would have been some commotion. Knowing my track record with Covenant femmes, Neyla would have tied me down and had her glorious way with me. I'd finish inside her to sate my already raging boner, and then through some whimsical one-in-a-million pot-luck event I'd escape and be forced to fight my way out of a mess, likely with my pants down around my ankles for better comedic effect.

Unfortunately for you, that didn't happen, because Vixxen caught me before I even made a sound.

She materialised into existence behind me, casting a low pink glow up and down the tunnel around us. She had one arm wrapped around my neck and wrapped her legs around my waist forcing me to remain in a knelt position.

Angling my head sideways I just about caught the tip of her muzzle in my field of view as she rested her chin on my shoulder. And I didn't like that mischievous smirk one bit.

"The fuck?" In retrospect, I shouldn't have asked in that exact wording.

Vixxen's grin grew toothier as her free hand slid down my armour and forced its way inside my belt. I was shocked at how fast my armour yielded to allow the AI access to the inside of my pants. But then I had to remember Vixxen had been the one to design my armour. Of course it would yield in the crotch region.

Vixxen's hard-light hand found its prize in a moment, and pulling the pants I wore under my armour down she released my unusual throbbing arousal from its clothy prison. A few years ago I wouldn't have even considered one sangheili finger-fucking another to be remotely arousing. And then Olduvai happened and something in me changed.

Or broke. Whichever.

The cosmos had decided to rewrite my source code so I was attracted to alien chicks.

Or... or maybe I was just this way because I was a man and God knows, if it's got tits men are known to fuck it... just throwing that theory out there.

I gritted my teeth as Vixxen giggled, rubbing her firm grip up and down the shaft.

"You're so pent up, Sawyer," she cooed sweetly in my ear. "Let me help you out there."

I couldn't struggle even if I wanted to. It would make too much noise and that would risk a butt-fucking by a ship full of angry aliens. I merely tightened my grip on the tunnel's walls and tried to keep my heavy breathing as quiet as possible.

Below Neyla seemed to be getting as close as I was with Vixxen's hand tugging my erection. She'd escalated into moaning and curling her spine. Drool glistened along the outside of her mandibles and dappled her throat. Sweat glistened on her skin as she threw her head from side to side.

Mira picked up the pace, curling her palm over the shipmistress' clitoris and vigorously rubbing up and down. Neyla curled her spine into an unnatural angle in response. Her mandibles went rosy and she was almost screaming out on full volume.

Her cries were loud enough to mute Vixxen's whispers into my ear.

"Are you getting close sweety?" the vixen gave a few playful squeezes as she matched Mira's pace. "It's okay. You can finish in my hand. Go on. Cum for Vixxy. Cum all over my fingers. Oh, I can feel it swelling. You must be close. Cum all over my dirty hand. Give your dirty little fox-slut a nice hot bath of..."

My armoured fingertips dug into the walls with a soft 'scrtttch!'

"... cum-m-mmmmh~!"

Vixxen was overjoyed, holding on to me as I let loose. She even playfully counted the ropes of semen that shot between her fingers and painted the inside of the ventilation grate.

Neyla gushed at the same time.

Mira froze at the apex of her last thrust, either voluntarily or forcefully as the shipmistress' powerful muscles clamped down over her hand. It was a twitch and a convulsion t first. Then her hips started thrusting forward, and with each jittery motion a spray of milky cream jetted from between Mira's digits.

The first waterfall winged the side of her armour, and then as pressure was slowly released the spray turned to a trickle that soaked the sheets, forming a trail from the edge of the bed to where her firm buttocks cratered into the soft mattress.

Neyla gave the arbiter her hand back, and remained prone. She didn't even open her eyes. She was passed out cold.

Frankly I couldn't blame her and kinda wanted to join the club.

"Vix?" I breathed softly.

"Yeah?"

"I fucking hate you, you know that?"

Vixxen giggled as she slid around my body and pulled my pants back up for me. "I love you to." She planted a kiss on my visor then evaporated her avatar.

As I slowly got to my feet, careful not to step in the newly formed puddle of cum, I watched Mira make her exit. She paused by what looked like a Covenant bodoir, then moved out of the doors. I quickly backtracked down the maintenance tunnel and met her in the hallway outside where Token was still obliviously standing watch.

"Well that was..." I started to say.

"Interesting?" Mira smiled.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Not the word I woulda used."

Mira smirked as she held up her hand, palm up to reveal the glowing data crystal. "Who's 'yer fuckin' daddy?"

I didn't say anything, snatching the crystal from her and holding it up. I decided not to hold it too close to my face knowing full well where Mira's hand had been just moments ago.

"Good," I sighed with a little relief. My luck seemed to be turning around for the better. "We need to de-ass this area with a quickness. Ideas?"

Mira immediately pointed down the corridor, throwing up a heroic pose and announced in a deep voice; "Quickly, everyone! To the fighter bay!"

A completely unrelated sixty's Batman spinning transition screen later, we were running into the Succubus' hangar. Thankfully the corridors were empty, and the bay was unguarded. Likely most of the troops on board were committed to turning the Picard inside out in an attempt to find us.

So climbing into the phantom drop ship under Mira's instructions was easy enough.

Mira beckoned us in off the loading ramp and sealed the doors on the sleek beetle-like craft. "Executive escape ship for the supreme wankers on the bridge crew," she explained.

"Fancy," I admitted, noting the sleek panelling and silky drapes. It was awful fancy for a drop ship. "Though I thought elites were all about dying in battle and all that stuff. Why even have escape ships?"

Mira answered absent mindedly as she leaned over the flight console and activated systems. "Honestly, we cause enough fucking explosions to cover up shitty little oversights like that."

I coughed, wondering if I'd correctly heard her admission that plot holes were being covered up by explosions. "What?"

"The fuck?" Mira glanced over her shoulder innocently. "You say something?"

"Did you?"

"No."

Staring for a second, I huffed and merely found a seat towards the front of the drop ship. Token did the same as Mira took the pilot's seat and powered up the ship. With a hum of the drives, and a sway of my stomach, I felt us lift off the docking cradle before shooting out of the hangar and into space.

Slowly my gut adjusted to the acceleration and I felt gravity shift. Instead of being sucked into my seat, I was being pulled in every direction at once. Releasing the magnetic hold keeping me fixed in the drop ship's crash seats, I floated free into the air. Again my stomach flipped as I adjusted to the complete lack of gravity. Floating forward I caught myself on the threshold between the troop bay and the cockpit.

Looking out the front viewscreen, I asked Mira, "where are we headed?"

The elite glanced over her shoulder, then pointed ahead. In front of us a planet loomed into view. From the looks of it the world was desperate to win a 'Sauria-look-a-like' contest. It was a complete orb of multi-coloured land mass from pole to pole. A fifty-fifty land to water ratio, sparse cloud cover gathered mostly in whispy slivers of fluff around the pointy highlands. There was a break in the endless jungle and grassland in the form of an angry swirl of dust just above the equator on the horizon, a big ol' sandstorm tearing up a large expanse of desert.

"That's our destination. The nav-computer says there's a big space port on that world," Mira explained.

"What's the planet called?"

"Bo'hica."

I turned pale. I'd heard tales of Bo'hica space port when I was still in the UNSC armed forces. Tales that inspired a distinct instinct that told me 'don't go there!'

"Yeah, that doesn't sound like a good idea to me."

"Oh, don't be such a sour-puss," Mira snickered as the planet grew larger with every passing moment, soon it didn't fit in the viewscreen anymore. "We're almost at civilisation."

A back-end alien wretched hive of scum and villainy didn't sound much like 'civilisation' to me.

Frankly though, it seemed we might not live long enough to be killed by the planet's locals anyway. An explosion rocked the deck and tossed us about the troop bay. Making contact with a bulkhead I just about caught a glance of Token helplessly cartwheeling into a wall.

"What was that?" I asked, although that should have been pretty obvious.

Mira's hands were ablur over the control console as she desperately tried to keep the phantom aloft. "How could I put it fucking delicately?"

"We're going to crash, aren't we?"

"Yeah."

I gaped, before turning to Token. "Token! You can fly a spaceship! Can't you help her out or something!?"

The man immediately scoffed. "I'm not even the main character! What do you expect from me!?"

"What does that even mean!?"

My teeth rattled as we hit the atmosphere with enough force for me to slide from where I latched on to a support rail and skittered in semi-gravity across the deck.

The ship shook from the impact and started tearing at the seams. The power cut out completely, the comforting hum of the engines gurgling for a moment, then dying completely. In seconds we were plummeting helplessly to the ground.

My luck was rotten once more, and the universe once again shifted into a state of balance.