Halo_ Evolutions - Essential Tales of the Halo Universe - Eric Nylund [46]
“The UNSC could stop it in a moment by leaving,” Felicia said. “Is it really your problem?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But maybe the rebels get even worse. Kill more civilians. Then who are they really doing this for? The civilians they’re getting killed?”
“Or maybe the UNSC keeps overreacting and causing the Outer Colonies to not want any part of all this,” Felicia said gently. “A million casualties now, caught in the crossfire, since TREBUCHET started. No one’s going to ignore that. The civilians will keep cheering the rebels on.”
“I know. And maybe we’re always destined to be splintering and fighting, without some greater cause. But I’m applying to the ODSTs.”
“You’ve got to be kidding? Are you suicidal now?”
“I’m joining as soon as I’m cleared.”
Felicia sighed. “Then I’m coming, too. We’ll sign up together.”
“Why the hell would you want to do that?”
“We’ve had each other’s backs for months now. Eric’s in a coma. Allison’s dead. You want me to rotate back to Harvest and sit on my hands alone? Screw that. You’re going to need someone to cover your ass; you’re going to be fresh meat to all those tough-assed ODSTs out there.”
“Seriously, Felicia . . .” I turned to look at her.
“Shut up about it already, Gage. You’re the closest thing I have to a brother. You’re a poor excuse for one, but I consider you one nonetheless. Deal with it.”
“I want to go after the bastards that did this to us.”
“I know. You’re a sentimental, honorable dirt farmer who needs a hell of a lot more cynicism in your life. Of course you want to go after them.”
“Harvest will always be there when we’re done,” I said.
ORDERS ARRIVED before we were discharged, proving my instincts correct. We were to be folded into the UNSC or offered an honorable discharge and a ticket back to our home world of choice.
I tried one last time to convince Felicia out of applying to the ODST, but she told me to shove it and shut up.
The recruiter’s office was in chaos when we showed up with our papers. Several older sergeants were huddled around screens and pumping fists.
“What’s going on?” Felicia asked.
“We got that bastard, Watts!” they said.
“Robert Watts?” I was shocked. Watts had led the Insurrectionists all throughout the Outer Colonies from deep in the asteroid belts of this system for so long, it sounded improbable. “Who got him? ODSTs?”
“No clue. But the ONI propaganda machine is kicking into overdrive declaring him caught.” The sergeant collected himself and grabbed our papers. “It’s a good day to be a Marine! Bad day to be an Innie.”
With Watts captured, I wondered how strong the rebel movements would remain.
“Raw meat for the ODST grinder, huh?” the grizzled sergeant grunted. “If you thought Colonial boot camp was tough, you’re about to get dismantled. Then we’ll see if you can manage to put yourselves back together.”
I laughed, but the ODST recruiters didn’t laugh back. They were dead serious. They knew what was around the corner for the two of us, and the smiles on their lips were like the smiles of wolves.
ODST BOOT camp was where I learned how to kill someone with my pinky.
Among other things.
But first they stripped us of our rank.
“Think coming in from the CMA means jack to us?” an officer commented when I presented the fact. “You’ll have to actually earn your rank here.”
Then they started running us. I’d kept track of Felicia up to that point; we’d even had a chance to compare notes at mess, eating together.
But there was quickly little time for that; too exhausted, too busy trying to survive.
For three weeks I ran, did push-ups, and blitzed through obstacle courses as fast as I could. They took us through slush, artificial snow, and live gunfire-simulated battle. Got on our bellies and crawled through miles of barbed wire, rubble, and destroyed buildings as they fired rounds at us just inches over our