Composite Armour

"Don't think I was near you." He looked at the floor of the pelican. "It was hell. I lost a lot in those past few days. We were trying to hold them back, but...they just kept coming. We were caught badly. The tank was running low, but she was intact. Then we came up against those bloody Zealots." He stared at the floor still. "Disabled us right by a group of rocks. My gunner caught one, in the chest. Hit her real bad. We phoned for evac, they had a falcon to come collect us. The turret gunner stayed behind...a bloody hero." He placed his hand over his visor. "She was hit badly, there was...blood everywhere. I waded through the freezing cold water to try and get to the evac. But she...didn't make it. I still went on and made it to the Falcon. Still holding the body." He sighed heavily. "It's one thing to have the guy in the next tank die, or the beside you. But to have your best friend sacrifice himself and have your...other best friend die in your arms? How do we go on after something like that?" He looked up again at the spartan. "I'm sorry sir, that's...the past I'm okay. At least I hope that tank did some good." He looked at the wounded spartan. "I'm more worried about you though, you alright?"

"Ha, you need to get angry more! That's how I earned my Ace title you know." He stopped the music. "It near...Sword base I think...caught a waith unaware. BOOM!" He said the last part much louder then he intended to. He looked at the spartan. "Were you on Reach?"

"I don't get it. Why go invisible when you can blast things away?" He leaned back again and took off his helmet. Taking a quick drink of water, he then put it back on. He started to play music through his headphones. "I just hope we don't get boarded."

"Oh ha ha! Funny guy." Eric leaned forward. "I'd love to see your face when the 90mm goes off right beside you! Now that, that would be funny!" Eric turned to the ODST. "Don't worry, she handle's real smooth. Though tough guy might get a little scared."

"Fine, I'll sit down." Eric walked to the back of the pelican. Spartans and a single ODST. He sat down. "Guess now we play the waiting game." He looked at the injured spartan. It worried him and it could be seen in his face. Good thing he was wearing a helmet. He leaned back and tried his best to enjoy the ride.

"Shot..." He looked quickly at his side. "Nah, that's when I was on a date with one of them aliens. We danced for a bit." He gripped the gun controls tighter, realizing it was his shuffling that caused the wound to reopen. Eric gestured the spartan closer and whispered to him. "How's she doin' back there?"

Eric was getting adjusted to the lack of recoil. He didn't like it. He shuffled around alot, trying to get the right feel for the gun. Then a sharp pain tore through his side. "I need a medkit over here!" He didn't have time to stop and attend to his wounds.

"Ha! I love this gun!" He couldn't hold in his feelings, it was fun to shoot. Still, he missed the kick and the feeling of being punched from the Scorpions cannon. However, he knew he wanted one of these guns on it too. "I could do this all day!" It was a rush! "So boss, let's get this thing flyin' eh?"

"Looks good to me, though she's a little smaller then I'm used to." He manned the position and seated himself. "Gunner, set...whoops. Habit, call it out and I'll engage."

Eric sat down and leaned back. What could he do? He didn't have the steel shell surrounding him. He didn't have a 90mm cannon. He was a man with a pistol. Nothing more. He looked around at the Spartans. He felt weak. "Feel, pfft. I am weak. What can I do?" He shut himself up, just realizing he was speaking aloud.

wut

"We can't just leave!" Eric looked around at everyone, bloodied and bruised. "You know the cole protocol."

"Sir, were abandoning Infinity?!" The Eric's mind began to go astray. "What about the Cole protocol? What about everyone else?!"

"Never heard of 'em sir. Could've been a cousin or something." He heard the wounded spartan talk. He didn't wait, he had to act. "Listen, I'm not dying here. And If I'm not dying, you're not dying. We all go together."

"Murphy...sir." He had been told not to call him sir, but when talking to a spartan, it doesn't feel right. "Need help, I only know basic first aid, but I picked up a few things from Reach."

"Thanks...argh." He pressed his side, remembering first aid. Apply pressure at all times. He looked at the wounded spartan. Things must be bad. "What do we do sir?"

"I'm in corridor 2...you scaly *******...2D!"

Clank, Clank, Clank. It was right behind him, he could feel it breathing down his neck. He had to do something, bravery does not a super soldier make. What could he do. "HELP, I NEED HELP!" He hoped someone was still on comms. The elite laughed in response.

Eric rolled to avoid the first thrust, the pain in his side flared up. "AGH!" He had to do something. He dodged another blow and shot at the elites hand. It threw it into a rage, sending out a loud roar. Eric fumbled quickly back to his feet and began running back. He could hear the elite chasing after him, closing in. It said something in...whatever it spoke. "That was your mother *******!" The elite roared again. It knew English, that's for sure.

Eric continued on. He may be a tank jockey, but every marine is a rifleman. He proceeded through the corridors, still not looking behind. He stopped. Clanking. Close. He looked and couldn't see anything. It was getting louder...closer. A bolt of plasma tore from the air and hit him in the side. "ARGH, SON OF A *****." He sprayed the assault rifle inaccurately, catching the shields of the Elite. The heavy hand knocked him to the ground. He crawled backwards as he watch the sword being drawn. Eric was moving backwards as fast as he could...

"I've had it! I'm going to help take back this ship. Now you little girls can either shut up and get behind me or stay here and decide what to do with your days in the prison." Murphy proceeded off by himself, not looking back to see if anyone was following. "I hope to god someone comes with me." he thought to himself.

"Are you ******* joking me?!" Eric went face to face with the Spartan. "Our bloody ship is under attack, our people our dying and you are here fighting yourselves! You want to fight? Go ahead. But you better not ******* do it on everybody's ******* time! Lives are at stake...sir!" He backed away a bit, he needed to control himself.

Eric looked around, these "Spartans" were killing each other more then the covenant. He needed to do something. "Listen up you ********! You're going to quit this bitching and take this ship back. I swear to god I'll have all of your asses in the brig when this is over." Eric tried to look as imposing as he could.

Eric moved along, using the Spartans as cover, though he would deny it if they asked. Still, they had shields and armour. He made his way along the Armoury, picking an assault rifle, a combat vest, helmet and some frag grenades. He was geared up and good to go, but how could he help Spartans? Making his way back to the group, he saw someone attack someone else. What should he do? He decided and pointed his AR at the offender. "STAND DOWN!"

"Bloody hell." Eric was leaning at the edge of the tank, panting. "Jes...Thanks...uh...spartan." He looked at the dead elite and the empty gunners seat. "Listen, this tank isn't worth it on the ship, I need to get a proper weapon and some armour. Can you escort me to the Armoury?" He gestured his hand forward asking for help.