Because of this, every mission wasn’t just something to complete in order to help out the UNSC or a fellow soldier, but something to prove himself that he was able to do, something to show that he wasn’t the one marine who couldn’t, for whatever reason. No matter what the injury, how much pain there was, or how impossible success seemed, he always pulled through, because of the push he put on himself. Nothing that Sgt. Mendez could have said or did could scathe the depth of what James had set for himself, which simply didn’t allow for failure. Hell, the word wasn’t part of his vocabulary any longer. Having ran through at least half the station and not seeing a single way off didn’t halt him at all, only made him go faster. A few rooms back he noticed a ton of spare shuttle parts, and took a mental picture of the room number incase he’d need any of the parts inside. Room 209 B. As he continued on, he laughed to himself, wondering why the Covenant forgot about this random station, and why they didn’t just blow it out of space. But he dismissed the thought quickly, not wanting to mistakenly send some telepathic message that he wanted the station to be destroyed, especially while he was on it. Maybe the lack of Oxygen is getting to me, he thought. Almost back to where he had started from, two vacant escape pods sat silently only 30 meters from where he had entered from. He almost hit himself in the head for missing them, although it was difficult to see in the dark, and he needed to decide a path to take. I’ll laugh at this later. Tapping the control panel, nothing happened. Trying again, no light came from it, and James could only guess that all the systems were down, including those for the escape pods. That also meant life support was dead, and that the air he was breathing would be gone quite soon from the hole he made getting it. The eerie darkness and quiet might have been getting to James, although he also thought that the situation was hilarious. He couldn’t help it. Every system was off, he missed the life pods and went around a station three kilometers in diameter only to find the escape pods right next to where he started, and now all the power was shut off. As though the universe could do anything else to make his day. Pulling his right hand back and balling it into a fist, James smashed the control pad, hoping to open it by any power left over in the station from failsafes. It didn’t. So James grabbed the door and the bulkhead, and pulled apart as hard as he could. It slowly gave way, and when he could fit himself through, he stopped and got in. He jumped into the cockpit and hit several controls, but none of them responded, also having no power. James opened up a small panel on the left arm of his suit, and took out a wire and connected it into a small port on the console in front of him. Setting his suit to act as a defibrillator, he pulsed the ship once, waited for his own power to recharge, then tried again. Still not working, he gave it one more try. The escape pod’s lights flickered on and all systems became functional. The door behind closed as best it could, and fired off warning signs that the air pressure would drop slowly after leaving the station. Not caring, he punched the keys in furiously, wanting to get off the station and back into battle. In no time at all, it flew back towards Reach, where he could help out his team. ****** Searching the sky above the planet Reach was devastating, to say the least. Reach, where James was raised, trained, and had spent most of his life, was being swarmed by Covenant vessels. How long was I in that station? But it didn’t matter anymore. The Covenant always gassed the planets they managed to take control of, and this one would be no different. All of the Spartans, with the exception of Linda, John and himself were down there, fighting to stay alive. All the Super Mac guns were not in orbit anymore, nor could they be considered Mac guns. The air inside the escape pod was running very thin, and James set his suit to pressurize most of it inside his suit, then close it off from the venting atmosphere. It would only give him around ten minutes of breathing time, but it would have to do. A lone spatial distortion came through on his computer monitor, a very erratic one, meaning that a UNSC had escaped, but he could only guess which one. He was not at the luxury to look behind the escape pod, as it was never meant to look back at its previous destination, and therefore had no aft cameras. Trying to get a read on the ship was also a waste, as it was already gone while the computer scanned its long UNSC vessel code. Several more slipspace ruptures opened, with at least six Covenant corvettes going through, and more heading away from Reach. Some of them seemed to be on a direct course for him, but there wasn’t enough power on the ship to maneuver with, and he couldn’t waste any of it anyways. He powered down all systems and let the pod drift in the direction he set, and hoping that the Covenant wouldn’t get too curious about what he was doing. It was strange that all those Covenant ships had gone to track one lone vessel that managed to escape. James knew that the Covenant were very thorough, but this seemed ridiculous. Why chase one ship? The Pillar of Autumn? Eight minutes of air left. This was no time to wonder about the mysteries of the universe, especially while he knew that the Spartans down on the ground would still be alive. Checking the distance from him to Reach, there was no way he could reach it in the small escape pod. There had to be another way… Scanning the surrounding area of anything he could use, he found that there were still many wreckages of fallen UNSC cruisers, frigates, corvettes, etc. He needed to find one with a working propulsion system, and with some working atmosphere. The problem with that was the Covenant did a good job of cleaning up after themselves. They would soon target the wreckages and rid the surrounding area of anything Human. For now, it seemed safe enough, and the Covenant continued to orbit Reach. Five minutes. Damnit! James initiated the scan, but he didn’t know whether he had the time or not. With the huge debris field, it could take the computer from a matter of minutes to days to complete. He stopped the scan and reset the parameters to something more fitting for his situation, and set all power to the scanner. As the computer searched for more hospitable settings, he got up and checked the rest of the pod, hoping to find something that may come in handy. All of the seats were supposed to carry first aid kits inside them, but none did. He checked the very back and a lone kit, containing anything he’d need for quick field repairs. There was also a backpack with a few clips of ammo for his MA5B and M6D. Tossing the first aid in the pack, he turned to the other side of the pod and searched, but found nothing. Coming back to the ‘captain’s’ chair, he noticed on the right a small cylinder, completely bronze and quite capable of saving his life. The air tank would come in quite handy, especially if he didn’t find a place with a localized atmosphere in the next three minutes. It read full, and he popped it in the pack, and slipped it on. ‘Scanning complete’, read the computer. Three ships came onto the screen, the Liberty, Triumph, and Queen Mary. The Queen Mary and Liberty were too far to reach with the few minutes of air he had left, but the Triumph would do. Setting an intercept course for it, James gave all the power over to engines and made best speed to his new frigate. ****** The inside of the Triumph was all but welcoming, pitch black and very cold. The external temperature made sure that if James ran out of air, he wouldn’t be able to use the air tank because he’d end up freezing to death. Instead, because he was in a huge rush to find a spot where he could breath freely, the air tank played a support role, giving him a boost throughout the hull. Staying as close as possible to it, he searched for a way in, but every layer of metal had melted over itself, closing the entire ship off from the outside. Only a minute left on his air countdown, James forced his heartbeat and breathing to slow down, knowing that he couldn’t waste any of it. He’d done this before as well, but now counted more than ever. Setting his motion tracker on maximum, a small blip appeared on it, just at a portion of the hull to his left. Quickly making his way there, more blips appeared, indicating that people were still alive inside, and that there was breathable air; both a plus and minus. Having any extra marine around would help out tremendously, and it at least gave him the satisfaction of knowing some were still alive. But because they were inside, he couldn’t tear through the hull like he did before. There would have to be a way around. But I’ve searched the surrounding area already! Trying to figure out what options he had left put a shiver down his back, as he found none. The lack of breathing was getting to him, and he put his hand on the hull, by accident slamming against it. Then voices played through his head, very quiet, but voices nonetheless. He turned up his internal speakers as loud as possible, and the voices could be made out quite legibly. They were from inside the ship, and his hand was carrying the sound through the hull and his suit to him. They heard the crash against the bulkhead, and were yelling something. “Control panel-left 20 meters-keycode 631-airlock.” Getting the immediate drift, James flew over to the described destination, and found the console, which seemed to be dead, but he now had a feeling that it wasn’t. Pushing in the code, the doors opened, and he tumbled inside, his lungs now burning for air. The doors closed behind him and the hissing of air became audible, but James simply sat very still, keeping his focus, staying awake. Staying alive.