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"You can't be serious!"
"I'm dead serious Augustus she isn't fit to command that ship."

Cole never really shouted, well, he did, but not often. His eyes would scan those deep green orbs of Augustus Timber, looking for something akin to leverage.

"You couldn't control your little girl so you lock a grown woman in her room?" This statement, Cole resolved, was sarcastic; though he did not detect such a note in his friend's voice.
"That's not the issue Augustus!"
What this was, was Laura's constant frolicking with people lower in rank, insisting it was the 'voices' talking, such behavior was not becoming of any captain.

"But it is, Laura Trenton is the best god-damn Captain you have and you god damn well know it."
He would frown, then, clearly angry, yet still managing to hold it.

"For Christ's sake Augustus, that's easy for you to say, you came here to train marines in whatever god forsaken sadistic ass way, you even stopped by her house and brought her fucking dog!" Augustus shook his head. "Alright man, I'm just saying, talk to her before the big bash is all."

Another five dollars in the swearing jar... Cole thought.
Sighing, he nodded in resignation.
"Alright, but contrary to what you and even she thinks I do care I just -
He took a deep breath.
"I don't want to see her get hurt."
"That's natural, being human isn't wrong."
"Bring her dog to her quarters would you?"
"Sure thing."

* * * *

Physics... Geometry... Academic-English, Yaking Scrabble and the 'Giant Laser?' How did that get there?
Honestly, for once she didn't know. Almost through all the books, then she'd be bored as hell. Fucking confinement to quarters. Bullshit.

In any case Laura was pretty tired, she would have fallen asleep at the desk but her eyes were blurry again, so it was resolved that she would lie on her bed, which she did in a matter of seconds, practically leaping into it.
She lay placidly there, sleeping.
The light was dim and the shadows plentiful, since those very same lights automatically slipped down a few shades when the internal sensors detected a drop in activity.

Dreams

Primordial mishmash of the elder races, fall to the warrior the triumph of victory, it shall rain crimson lifeblood and maiden shall weep, love be lost to the tears we cry for you, show strength yet courage known not thy falter.

If it was indeed a flawless day then blood rained forever, men and women screamed for their families and war was absolute. Picture blue skies, pelicans were screaming down, great gray plumes of smoke behind them, blue luminescence detonating never-ending.
Lo! One has reached the sandy surface! One has reached the beach, rejoice, we live!

Until a barrage of plasma fire tears from the trees, Blue-black orbs, Anti-Matter. Everyone within that fated vessel is torn to pieces as bolt after bolt scores its hull, raining unearthly hellfire.

In the sky the pelicans continue to fall, however those last two lucky enough to make the beach line -
The winger's left side is clipped by a mortar round, spinning uncontrollably it ploughs through a squad of black clad solders and explodes after ramming into a cliff-side.

Two figures fighting, one a black clad soldier, the other an Elite Covenant clad within shining silver-black armor.
The Elite is stabbed through the heart, and as the black clad soldier turns a... UNSC marine stabs him to death with a bayonet?

Minutes pass and this... Vision torments our dreamer until her face slides in again. Those unsettling emerald eyes and silver sparkles, her fair pale, flawless features...

NNNNNNNOOOOOO!

Again Laura flew from her rest, rolling cleanly from her bed and grunting, as she slammed hard into the floor. That would leave a bruise.
Again that dream had come to her, again she'd seen the flawless beauty; again she'd been tormented with those horrid visages.

For an instant the door of her room edged open and her attention was immediately transfixed, a snout poked through, and the door eased open even further to admit a dog... Then Laura noticed the tag. Her dog!
He bounded forward and landed in front of her still shaking form, though it wasn't just fear, there was excitement too. Of all the places she never would have thought Streamer here.

Until the fat bastard -
No muscled tree with a face like a lion strode through.
"Hello." This was barely a whisper.

Oh please, what was this thing talking about?
She was quite embarrassed concerning the present situation, having just twisted from a bed filled with stank and whatnot, full of disgusting fumes clad only in sweat and a drenched officer's uniform.
Laura buried her face into the mane that was Streamer.
How pathetic she felt, he would make her much like a stick, could this man reduce you to any less it would be a piece of pond scum. Yes, she realized. He could he just didn't.
By now her face was red, her breathing something resembling 'oh no.'

"Uh..." Laura managed. "What?"
"Hello."
Jesus Christ, low-base ear pounding siren of deafening might!

She knew this man, quite simply she would call him Uncle Augustus, the Timbers and the Trentons were of the same family tree, it was just that Cole was her adoptive family, Laura knew she was not Cole's daughter by birth.
"Uncle!" She would groan.
"What?" Another whisper was sounded.
Streamer turned his gargantuan head and barked. This sound was bone jarring, reverberating. It would echo off the walls, giving an impression of eventual hearing loss.
He was such a cute dog, always so full of mirth, although Laura knew that if a thief of any sort made his or her way about he would most likely shout 'Oh hello, everyone's asleep right now in the basement so feel free to take what you want. Oh the million dollar jewels are in the little box in the mistress' bedroom!"

Not to mention the fact that the thief was Augustus, come to steal Streamer away. A very loud thief at that, had any law enforcement officials come to the scene, their eardrums would have burst to sound slightest.

"You know what your voice does, and you know that pets aren't allowed on premises!"
He shrugged. "So?"

What kind of a response was that? Not at all professional, heh, she almost laughed. So many questions, it was like a prolonged game of scrabble or sorry, which had such complicated rules.
"Come on Captain, get yourself ready, take a look at this billboard." He handed her a small piece of laminated paper attached to a clipboard.

SCS: Fafnir notice of elimination.

Former Status: NOW PENDING.

Nomination recalled.

Laura didn't give a damn, she knew that Cole would try something like this, it hadn't been announced publicly yet, therefore the captain's position was left open.
"Come on, we've a ball to get to."

Augustus' eye lit up. "You show dignity in the face of defeat, a true leader; it was a mistake for your father to doubt you."
Oh, well, she knew that. It was always a mistake to doubt the best! Nevertheless, she'd a party to get to, and that son of a bitch would be waiting. Likely everyone else was already there. Laura had an idea though... Just before the nominations...

"Uncle could you wait a moment?"
He stomped the floor, clearly annoyed. He was a military man to the core; thusly he wished to get moving.
"Fine."

* * * *

Fuck, when in the hell was L supposed to get here? People around the base said she and Cole had had some 'family quarrel' a few days back and she ended up cooped-up in quarters, just before half the base was on maintenance call and all the personnel around sections F through K needed to bunk up with their counterparts.

Laura obviously wouldn't have been notified, the Lieutenant guessed. By now she was probably trapped in some sort of mess or another, Alec felt like leaping of and saving her, the classical shining knight helpless woman scenario, but there was protocol to follow and... stuff.

Helen moved to his side, and he shrank back, frowning. The perfume she wore was so god damn strong it could smoke out a nest of hornets. "Hey Alec, you seen Laura?"
Apparently she was searching for the elusive captain too, a trait he couldn't afford to waste.
Such things were true; that Alec was attached to Captain Laura, but still, he felt it was an officer's sworn duty to look out for his own, even if that meant unorthodox measures.
"I'm gonna' go and look."

Helen put on a pleading face. "But there are ODST guys at the door... You're an officer, you don't want to get hurt."
He tensed. "You're staying here, I outrank you."
She smiled. "So are you."

Obviously Helen didn't mean he was going to sit in this... particularly big room stuffed with desk jockeys because she told him to; so what was this commotion all about?
All around people seemed to be clustering, gander intent upon the entryway open-mouthed and wide-eyed.
Immediately Facility 04's band stopped playing a classical piece and switched on a CD player for effect.

Before them stood Laura, linked arm-in-arm, with Augustus Timber.
They stood for a time, intentionally playing to the beats of the song, nodding their heads simultaneously and moving front and center.
As doves on crimson horizon, everlasting image tribute to peace, an almost see-through dress caressed every curve upon her, UNSC Captain Laura Trenton. Thin straps hugged desperately to each shoulder, this garment bordering on 'slut', ending off just as it would cover the navel.
Contrast to an angel stood he, one known as Augustus, this tall angel of death dominating all inside. People could've sworn the man was armed, clad within standard UNSC officer's uniform, medals decorating it like grass to soil.
Thusly both marched, thusly, as one Helen and Alec strode calmly out, either one noticeably nervous, still managing to hide most of it though.
"Come on, you know you want it." Alec began.
Rather shocked Laura didn't seem to note that his hands were already there, guiding shepherds to every step taken, so light and limber that those high-heeled shoes she wore refused to click from hardwood boards.
She was taken aback, Alec supposed. Honestly he'd been waiting a long time to do this, carefully planning every motion taken as soon as he set foot to this gathering. He swept around, imitating some merry-go-round, dipping his charge gracefully, a swan bowing, elegance of practiced master. In truth he searched her eyes all the while, they were slightly protestant, her features not quite where they should have been. All muscles he felt (rather slyly of course) were tense, like she expected something to burst into flames. The pair arose, then dipped once again after doing another series of motions. She leaned to his ear.
"I'm only doing this to save face you know." Quoted Laura.
"No you're not."
He felt a slight tremor rake her body, almost hidden completely, followed by a very relaxed feeling in the areas he held. Alec would have smiled, when he heard Laura release a breath, which had probably been held in earlier.
Alec and his newfound dance partner continued for some time, until chatter cut airborne once again.

By now crowds were gathering, talking innocently amongst themselves about various things ranging from politics to who-had a crush on-who. Rather childish type stuff, but no one really cared.
Taking chances was one quality Alec did best, so he followed through with it.
"Come on." The comm. Officer muttered to his superior.
Had she even had time to protest, he believed she wouldn't have done so, despite this she had not had the time anyway, with Alec snatching an iron grip of her wrist, dragging her away towards the back doors, black titanium things.
Now in a narrow alley, he released his grip saw her stumble.
That had to have been embarrassing.
Was he fated for this corruption, he did not know; Nonetheless he managed to catch the slightly shaken captain, and gently place her on her feet.
"Thanks Alec." Laura mumbled in response.
He liked that voice.
"You know..." He stepped forward, causing Laura to step back, eventually placing the small of her back against the cold brick wall opposite.
"Your blood is, - He brushed his fingertips against the small scar situated on her neck, slender and white. "Rather inviting."

Alec leaned in, but was cut short millimeters from her lips. Something crashed against the leftmost door. Buffoons!
Both shot into reality following a jump.
In moments they were through the previously named doors and standing on the hardwood floor, a woman in a white lab coat wearing small silver-lenses sport shades stood by the main entry, flanked by a Russian and a very large African-American, both with hands in their flowing black trench-coats.
"Halsey!" Augustus and Cole gasped in one subliminal motion.

"We've come for the one called Duran, Alec Duran." Her voice was of hounds and emu, demonic to say the least, with an average body, cropped blonde hair and one menacing stature despite a seven-foot height.
With single motion she drew forth two twin instruments, depressing either trigger, everything seemed to slow. Bullets slammed into the barrel as various contraptions clicked into place, gunpowder mixed with air, hammers- ignited sparks and 9x25mm AMAX rounds soared through wave after wave of oxygen.
The MP5 wielding Doctor Halsey, creator of the SPARTAN II Project, smirked regally. The muzzle velocity alone would probably knock down anything she encountered.
Deep red hues started splashing everywhere as ONI spooks fell one after the other like dominoes, clawing futilely at the air in vain attempt to cling to life.
True to their training, the ODST door guardians leveled their MA5B assault rifles toward the maniac woman, but were stopped short of firing in quick order.
Bubba and Grigor had previously retrieved old-fashioned Russian-made Baikal MK-141 shotguns; each with ten round capacity, loaded with Flechette shells. These they pushed calmly into either man's face, and fired as one. Since 'splash' wasn't a priority here, the faces of both ODST were simply cut in half, blood and brain matter spraying everywhere.

Looking on in mock interest, Alec remained somehow untouched by the entire drama, simply staring as if enthralled by some greater power. He saw Hobbs leaping here and there to avoid glass shrapnel while he leapt across a bar table, bottles of corked alcoholic beverages exploding behind and underneath him while Halsey tried to peg the unfortunate pilot.
For a moment it seemed he would make it to the door, until a bottle of vodka exploded in front of him, sending glass shards into his legs and causing him to slip on a table which was slick with the blood of his compatriots.
Grigor came down hard afterwards, yanking his arms through the air in a cruel thrust and practically smashing Hobbs' skull with the blow.
If somebody fired a round or tossed a rock, they'd probably kill one of their good friends; chaos was now absolute, as if this place was a soccer stadium in riot.

Bubba tromped on, a rhino covered in spines, silent, merciless self-proclaimed master of all. Any in his path would be gored upon a horn, the Baikal MK-141, which he held and used with abandon.
His plight was rather dull up until a specific time; mostly he kept shouting inane quips as he marched through the crowds before him. Not all was as this was however, for he'd now come near the back entrance.
Truly his eyes lit up when he saw them, Alec Duran and his little whore.
Several bodies lie about them; Halsey had probably been aiming not to hit her prize via stray rounds.
He leapt as sudden as a shark would in some beach attack, landing in between either he sent a backhand in Alec's general direction, resulting in the poor ONI spook's head snapping back, practically knocking him out.
With that same motion he slipped his hand about Laura's neck, bringing her to the wall, gasping for air. Two finely chiseled hands clasped stupidly to his wrist on reflex.
"I'm going to have to have some fun with you..." Bubba smiled.
He was cut short however; a well-placed kick sent flames up his groin.
Dropping his captive, Bubba refused to clutch the 'wounded' area, and saw that the good Captain was already trying to claw away towards a discarded M90 Shotgun.
Obviously those rumors he heard were true; these people were indeed fighters, warriors to the end. He'd enjoy breaking them.
"Damn it you fudge packing- He dove as Laura turned, bringing his right knee down with full weight onto both of those comely legs while his arm fell like an anvil to her chest. This would likely send spasms through her, but just in case-
He snatched the M90 away, throwing it towards a pile of corpses, and drew forth a combat knife.

His captive would struggle admirably, clasping both hands about that wrist and amazingly enough, pushing it off for a short time. The knife and the user however, would not have it. Bubba merely pressed harder, grabbing all fingers on her other-hand, and snapping them back, hearing several cracks.
Laura screamed aloud and convulsed. "No!" Cried she.
"You'll be doing much more than that."
He smashed that hand to the floor, and grabbed her left ear, using the knife to cut half of it off. The screams and tears that followed were quite satisfying.
He enjoyed this in a sick, twisted way. He was worse than Augustus, relishing; bathing in the pain and suffering he caused others. How misleading Bubba's cheerful exterior was!
Overhead Halsey continued to spray what small pockets of living remained with her suppressing fire.

Her end was near, it came swiftly, a biting pain as the she felt the muzzle flash of an old model weapon, felt the bullet enter her skull.
Oh shit, dead already? That sucked.

Augustus, the roman soldier of old, screamed in rage, releasing upon his former companions the skill and shear awesome power of pure hatred. On moved the sword, on moved the Death-bringer, on moved the soldier, on moved the army. On moved he who was Augustus Timber, on moved he who would be the scorned.
Ear shattering hiss-
No longer, He would whip himself to some sort of ripping effect and throw the vaunted assailant onto a kitchen burner, causing it to writhe in agony before he stabbed it to death with a butcher knife.
The room was covered with zombies; churning masses of formerly loyal ONI Spooks maddened by some neural-chemical agent, which probably coated Haley's bullets.
They were stirring now, coal black eyes churning with frenzied vigor.
"Err heh, heh, heh-Ha, ha, ha!"
Several sets of claws raked his flesh; skin tearing like many Band-Aids shorn from scabbed wounds, causing him to scream in agony. Three more scars.
"Raaa-aah!" To Cole's right flew the Butcher Knife, right into the former man's ribcage, puncturing his left lung and tearing even farther, damaging kidneys.
The Admiral was no man to leave a job as dirty as this, letting his entire weight fall to concentrated downward elbows, bringing Cole down under - Six feet under.
How much more must he take?

Apparently not much more, for as he sprinted to the room's center Grigor pushed himself from beneath an odd mountain. Everyone here had been killed, since he was no man to dwell on such supposed tragedies, he merely continued on.
Grigor opened his rather sickening mouth (which was currently filled with blood and innards) to reveal painstakingly white teeth, complemented by four insanely sharp fangs.
"Feel the might of the Vampires traitor!" Spouted he, firing once, directly to Augustus' mid-section.
Which ended the fight in quick order, or so he thought.
Amazingly, as always Augustus had moved impossibly fast, this former blast having no effect whatsoever, since Augustus was no longer there, but beside him, sending his big meaty fist Grigor's way.
White angels could do nothing here, holy intervention, miracles, Hell no.
Instead, Grigor swung about and caught that fist, turning it aside effortlessly, with feline grace.
"Purebloods have always been stronger!"
Admiral Augustus was flung hard to floorboards stained with lifeblood belonging to his comrades, literal crimson paint, true meaning to two words: "Dead Sea."
For no reason did any zombie advance, as if they were waiting to be commanded, yet cheering on their champion.
Grigor followed through, caught to the pure glory of combat and engulfed in frenzy, both of those mighty clawed hands carved downwards, causing a massive tremor to the prone form of Augustus.
Nerves in pain he would surge upward in his rage, bearing Grigor down, pounding the fool to oblivion.
Yet what of Halsey?

She could not stifle her laughter, that pure mirth given to all.
Grigor's blood now coated him.
Die you bloodthirsty fuck! Teach you to harm even one hair on her head!

With a twist, Augustus snapped his neck, and shifted his battered, bloody form to she, standing on the raised dais.
Blood ran freely from either of his eyes, his left leg ached, his nose was next to broken, and his breathing haggard. He took a step forward, and snapped, breaking into a dead run.
Laura!

And oh, yes ladies and gentlemen... I am evil. To quote Murphy (I think.)
"If you're feeling good; don't worry, it won't last long."

Cutting this Chapter Short,

-Knightmare Wolf of the Merry Marines

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