Separated and Nearly Dead

(Dylon)
=I was meeting with the Insurrectionist liason, discussing the monetary issue. They were hiring us, the Nearly Dead gang to fight any UNSC force that entered the system. That and provide transport to any worlds they may want to go to=

Look. I won't go any lower than 10k. Any hirer that's your problem.

=the liason was determined, I'd give him that, but when you are talking to a white-skinned, masked man with bladed revolvers on his forearms within easy reach, you tend to be a tad fearful or off balance. Just the way I liked it=

"No. 9k. That's the best I can do."

=I leaned in closer to him. Putting my mask within inches of his face=

I'm letting you use my ship, my men, for your own purposes. If you don't like that. You can find someone else.

=he gulped=
"Okay, okay. Fine. 10k credits. Every other month. "

Good. Glad we could get this sorted out. Now. Get off my ship.

=i motioned to the two guards of the meeting room and they moved up behind him. Their bone white helmet shone softly in the lighting, and their weapons, both with blade attached in some way, glinted. The liason, who's name I honestly didn't care about, nodded and walked away, the guards following. I lifted my mask up and ran my hand over my face. 10,000 cR ever other month. And all I had to do was shuttle some people back and forth and shoot at the random UNSC ship that passed through the area. All in all, an easy way to make money. And, should I ever feel the urge to go exploring again, I could just leave. Kick all the Innies off my ship, make a jump, and go pillage and plunder and have some fun. I smiled at the prospect of getting some money. Getting more ammo and parts and such wasn't easy, or cheap. Money was prime, on the Dead and Back, just above spare parts for Pelicans and Longswords=

Klaxons and sirens resounded in her ears as red and yellow lights started flashing from almost everywhere. "Mayday! Mayday! This is First Lieutenant Elizabeth Black, 57th Overlanders. My pod has taken enemy fire. My trajectory is shot. Comms seem to be down. Navigation; non-existant. Emergency protocols still not engaging. Does anyone read me, over?" Her fingers blazed over the display screens in her pod as she tried everything in her power to regain any semblance of control. The horrendous amounts of reverb she was getting from the pod was not a good sign. She could fall apart and burn up mid atmo and then she'd really be fucked.

There was nothing but static from her comms, but ever the optimist she kept relaying her status in the hopes that someone might pick it up. "According to my calculations I'll be going in way too hot. Even if I do break atmo in one piece and manage to survive the impact..." She paused as she took a deep breath in, not liking what her calculations were telling her. "My predictions would put me way off target, several miles deep into enemy territory." She took several more calming breaths in and much of the urgency that had been prevalent in her voice was gone; replaced with a cool acceptance of what could happen. "If any of my squad is hearing this... The first priority is to fulfill the mission. That's an order."

Her pod shook and trembled violently as the view from her window alighted brilliantly with the friction-induced flames that came from breaking atmo at such a high velocity. She was going in way too fast. This did not bode well for her. Betty pressed herself to the backof her pod, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

"Warning! Velocity of descent beyond known limits."

Betty pounded the wall with the side of her fist. "No shit, Sherlock! Tell me something I don't know."

"Shield strength down to fifteen percent."

Betty scoffed and rolled her eyes. She didn't know that. "Thanks a lot!"

The world was coming up fast... Way too fast for her liking. No matter how hard she tried she could not get the emergency breaks to engage.

"Brace for imminent impact in 5... 4..."

Betty took a deep breath in and did everything in her power to prepare herself for the inevitable; silently sending out a prayer to whoever might be listening.

"3... 2... 1..."

The pod impacted the ground with the force of a bullet train and Betty felt the briefest moment of fear, panic and pain before the entire world went black.

=my radio in my mask crackled and I put it back into place=
Bullet here.

=it was one of the guards, I think. The ones escorting the liason=
"Sir, the liason just told us they have a report of a UNSC ship in the area. Pods have been launched and have landed on the planet, according to him. Far side. What should we do?"

Two things. One, smack him in the case that he's lying. Go ahead, I'll wait.

=i heard a faint slap over the radio=

And two, prepare three Pelicans. Get three squads ready, and we'll head down to the planet to see what's going on.

"Yes sir. I'm on it."

=i turned off the radio and started to make my way towards the nearest armory, to restock on ammo. After a few minutes of walking, I stepped in and put a few speed loaders into my armor pockets, as well as snack bars and a canteen. I proceeded towards the hanger, passing groups of soldiers idly talking, playing games, working on things, basically whatever it was they needed to do. Most of them saluted when I walked by, the only ones not saluting being the ones too engrossed in their work that they didn't notice me. Not that I minded, as long as they kept the ship running, it was okay. After even more time spent walking, I arrived in the hanger bay. The three Pelicans were loaded up and ready. White racing lines were painted on the fuselage, to help identify us in the thick of things, and to follow the constant uniform I had where there had to be white on everything that was ours. I climbed in and we took off, heading down towards the horizon of the planet in the direction the fight was taking place=

Ever so slowly Betty managed to come back to consciousness; though the pounding and unbearable pain in her head was making her wish she hadn't. Red lights were flashing in almost every angle of her vision while she took a few moments to get her bearings and try to remember what happened. She could barely remember the events leading up to her crash but such a thing might be expected after that landing. Details would probably return in time. Her pod was smashed all to hell, and the glass was shattered, yet still intact in its window. She tried to bring up her pod's computer and communications relay but she got nothing but static and snow from everything she tried to do. She didn't dare risk trying an unsecured channel, because one thing she did recall was that she had likely landed deep into enemy territory. She was sure her little crash might've been spectacle enough, the last thing she needed was a trail to lead them right to her.

Speaking of, she had absolutely no idea how long she'd been out. She needed to get the boot outta dodge and fast. Betty tried the emergency release lever and nothing happened. She tried it once more for effect, but to the same result. She groaned heavily because that meant she'd have to release the locks manually. After locating all 8 locks and releasing them, now came the part she dreaded. Some couple hundred pounds of steel between her and freedom and she didn't trust her strength to push it open, which meant she'd have to use her legs. She dreaded this because she could already tell one of her legs was worse for wear after that crash.

Still, Betty reached up and took a hold of a bar hanging across the 'ceiling' of her pod. Her arms took her weight where she lifted her legs to her waist and shoved out hard with her feet. It took three tries before the door finally popped open to where she could push it away. She secured all her gear before exiting the pod. Now that she was out of the pod she realized that the huge crack wasn't all from the pod window, but her helmet visor had fractured as well. Her HUD was gonna be fucked up but she could live with that as long as her TacPad was still functioning.

Speaking of... Betty quickly raised her right hand to her left forearm and flipped open her TacPad and pressed a button to turn on the screen. When a tactical map and compass beamed brightly back at her she let out a sigh of relief. It was a little glitchy but still functional. Just like she suspected she was maybe a hundred miles or so off her team's target. This zone wasn't a heavily militarized zone, but that could change in a heart beat in battles like this. The fact that she hadn't been discovered or kidnapped or worse in the time she was unconscious was the only good luck she was allotting herself.

She was too out in the open here. She needed to get as far away from this area as possible in as little time as possible. That was much easier said than done with a bum leg. The crash had done a helluva number to her entire body and nervous system, but for some reason her left leg was just hurting like hell. It was possible something was broken or fractured or dislocated or something and the thing with the pod door couldn't have helped. She'd suffered worse so the pain wasn't what worried her. It was how much it might slow her down. It'd definitely make her ability to not leave heavy tracks harder. She was also fighting off a bit of shock, panic and anxiety at her situation. She'd been doing this shit for 8 years. She could have a breakdown when she was out of this mess and shipside again.

Betty did one last check of the pod making sure she'd taken anything distinguishable or usable. Satisfied that she wasn't leaving anything the Innies could use against her behind, she checked the map on her TacPad, picked a direction and a route that would get her to the safety of cover and hideability but also in the direction she knew her unit would be heading.

=we coasted through the combat, dodging fire from several sources both from above and from the ground. It shook those of us in the cargo area around like marbles in a can, but none of us were too banged up. I was really the the only getting banged up, and I was used to this kind of turbulence, so it didn't hurt much. My gear kept me from sitting down, so I was forced to stand up, hence all the turbulence. The other troopers in my Pelican were all sitting down, harnessed in and safe. I was keeping an ear on the radio traffic, making sure no one on the rebel side was actively trying to shoot us. Several of the UNSC fighters and Pelicans were actively trying to shoot us down, but friendly Innie fire kept them from doing that. Eventually, the fighters and such peeled off, and we arrived at the location of the crashed pod. I had the pilot drop the back ramp=

Move us in closer. I can't see anything from up here!

=we all hovered in place, as the pilot spun us around slowly, giving me a good look at the area=

She hadn't even made it 30 meters from her pod before she heard the telltale sound of a ship breaching atmo. Betty turned to glance up at the sky where what looked like a Pelican was making it's way towards her exact location. Her instincts wouldn't allow her to think this might be some daring rescue, which could only mean it was the other kind. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She breathed to herself. The cover of trees and jungle was only about half a mile out. Buckling herself against the pain in her leg, she picked up her pace, feeding off the adrenaline that panic and desire to evade capture were pumping through her veins. She leapt over a fallen tree, then hid herself behind a particularly heavy thick of bushes and peered out towards the direction of her pod. Not moments later the unknown Pelican stopped it's descent, hovering just above the crash site. Her heart beat sounded like thunder in her ears as it beat heavily in her chest. There was a suddenly painful stitch in her side which she ignored.

She watched the ramp of the pelican lower and someone in full battle armour with a white tac mask. The only reason she was staying in this spot and not running for the hills to get away, was because she had to know their next move; if they would follow her, and if they would do it by land or by air. She had to know exactly how much lead she would have and how many men would pursue her. All of these variables would play into her ability, or inability to evade her pursuers.

=i spied someone, a wounded soldier. I pointed then out=
Pilot! Land us here! We got a runner!

=the Pelicans lowered thwir landing gear and slowly lost altitude, angling to land all around the pod's crash site=

She knew they weren't insurrectionists themselves. They didn't carry themselves like insurrectionists. Mercs or raiders most likely working on the dime of the Innies. Thirteen... Lucky number, 13. All armed for battle... She only had her trusty shotgon with a maximum of 30 founds plus 7 in the chamber... Her Assault rifle, which gave her another 180 rounds... 2 frag grenades.. Her Machete and a combat knife... Compared to their 13 rifles with who knew how many magazines and other types of explosives they had in their arsenal. She was far outgunned but that didn't mean she was out maneuvered. Not yet at any rate. No one could ever say they took Betty Black without a fight.

Her best option at this point would be to lose them and try to continue on and find her unit. So, quickly she stood and made her way further into the thickness of the jungle... She retraced her steps a few times, made it look like she could have gone off in a multiple number of directions. That stitch in her side was getting worse and there was only so far adrenaline could take you when you were in this much pain. Somehow she managed to soldier on. As she went she picked up various pieces of foliage to make a mock gillie suit of sorts to better camouflage her. It didn't take long though for the pain in her leg and the increasingly burning pain in her side from making her need to change her plans. So, reassessing her plans, she now decided a hidespot might be for the best. Maybe steal a radio and try to contact someone on her side.

Betty really put her injuries to the test when she climbed up a really big tree and hid amongst its plethora of leaves and branches. The pain in her abdomen made her cough, but she stifled it as much as she could. She tasted copper on her tongue though which wasn't a good sign. She hadn't injured herself further on her way here, which could only mean it was some unseen remnant from the crash. Fuck. The last thing she needed was an internal injury. Even if she did manage to escape the clutches of these Innie supporters somehow, an internal injury could spell death sentence in a situation like hers; cut off from her unit and every could be friendly force or med unit or station nowhere to be seen, and none in the known vicinity. Fuck!

With baited breath she waited, perched like an alert panther on this branch with her eyes, ears and gut peeled for her enemy. She would only risk giving up her spot if she was found and if they opened fire on her. If they did find her... Well her only hope would be that they were geared more towards capture than kill. Although, considering the possibilities sthat awaited her if she were captured... No she'd much rather go out in a blaze of fire and glory.

=the Pelicans landed, and all the troops hopped out, rifles readied, but not aimed. I walked out and took out my revolvers, loading up the rounds and attaching the scope onto the non-shotgun-like revolver. I walked over to the pod, and looked it over, as if some mystical answers were written on it's exterior or interior. I bent down and poked at the discarded hatch with my pistol blades, for some reason I didn't really understand. After a second, I stood up and motioned towards the forest=

C'mon men. Let's go get us a runner.

=we marched, seeing someone in the distance, but loosing sight of them in the forest. As we got closer, we all held our weapons up and started to scan the trees, keeping an eye out for anyone who might be watching us, or hiding, or both. We walked deeper into the forest, all the while looking for the someone we saw. I silently cursed myself for not finding a way of getting a motion sensor or thermal detection system integrated into my visor=

Betty could hear them when they entered the forest. Not really their voices but the plant and animal life took on a different feel, a different sound. They were all alert and wary of this new danger that had entered their domain. Betty pressed herself closer back against the tree. Her vision blurred for a moment and she opened and closed her eyes tightly several times and shook her head until it cleared again. Definitely not a good sign.

When she heard footsteps approaching, she gripped her shotgun a little tighter. One shot was all it would take to give herself up. She'd only engage if she knew her hidespot was discovered. Until then, she had the patience of a sloth. She could wait here for as long as it took... Or until her injuries got the better of her... Or they found her... Whichever came first.

After only a few moments that seemed like forever, the man with the white mask came into her view. She just caught glimpses as he made his way through the trees; his mask stood out in stark contrast against the darkness of the jungle around them. Betty took a deep inhale and it caught in her throat as another cough racked her body. The copper taste was back, only stronger and she saw dark specks covering the glass on her visor. Fuck. Fortunately for her these ODST helmets and armour were environmentally sealed so she had to project her voice if she wanted it heard outside her helmet.

The adrenaline from earlier was wearing off and all of the pain she had been ignoring was now starting to wear down on her, making her feel very tired and groggy. Her vision was blurring again, and not just from the specks of blood on her visor. Her head was spinning and her breath was growing more and more labored. Punctured lung probably? That would explain the pain in her side and the coughing up blood. Fucking great!

=i heard a noise behind me, and I spun. I saw an outline of something, and I knew it wasn't one of my people due to the "head" of the thing not being white. I quickly raised my shotgun-like revolver, and fired at the outline. The noise of it was loud, louder than a grenade from a few feet away. The recoil knocked the gun up to almost vertical, and I didn't even try to stop it, knowing I'd just get hurt more than anything. The tiny pellets blitzed through the air and into the whatever-it-was, knocking it down and bringing forth some kind of howl or scream. After those few heartbeats wore off, I realized I just shot one of the planet's predatory animals. I quickly got on the radio=

Stand down, just an animal.

=I turned and we started to move again, heading into the forest more. I cursed myself once again for not thinking faster, and instead reacting faster=

Betty watched him raise his gun, his gaze seemingly intent in her direction but he wasn't quite looking directly at her more something below her. She sunk further back against the tree and worried her bottom lip. She slowly raised her rifle when the man's revolver exploded, making her ears ring. The bullet hadn't been intended for her. Betty chanced a gaze to the jungle floor where she saw the lower half of a local animal, probably predatory, lifeless on the ground. The stench of the dead thing was so strong that even her helmet could not keep out the smell. Betty's stomach turned and she gagged. Combine that with how she was already feeling and she was afraid she was really going to vomit. Her head and her vision swam again, and now she was seeing doubles. It was all too much. She had to get out of this tree before she fell out.

The man with the haunting white mask had already passed her by but she doubted he was far enough away to not notice or hear her descent. So, when her feet hit ground she wasted no time and took off running again. She winded her way through the trees until her lungs began to burn again and nausea once again overcame her. She stopped and ducked behind one tree with a particularly thick set of roots. She quickly removed her helmet and gripped at her side just as she expelled the contents of her stomach which consisted of remnants from that mornings rations, mostly stomach acid and a little blood. She swiped at her mouth and shouldered her assault rifle, instead choosing her shotgun. There was no way she had enough focus to aim with her BR. It would just be a waist of ammo.

Betty cocked her shotgun and pressed herself back against the trunk of the tree. She could hear her pursuers and she tried to pinpoint their directions but once again her blood was pulsing like thunder in her ears and she wasn't just seeing doubles anymore, but triples. C'mon you fucking bastards. Let's get this over with. She thought to herself.

A twig snapped to her right and she peered out from behind the tree and fired, not really aiming or looking at what she was shooting, before ducking back behind the tree.

=i heard a gun shot, and someone started screaming into the radio, calling for back up. I checked his position, then ran off towards where he was. I hopped over a few logs and ducked under some branches before taking cover behind a tree near the wounded soldier's position. I commed the soldiers=

Spread out! Look for the shooter! Medic!

=i crouched down and looked around, trying to see if anyone was there. I couldn't see much, other than maybe a glint of a visor from one of the few light rays coming through the foliage. It was on the ground, near a tree. I thought they might be nearby, so I called out after moving back behind the tree=

Hello there! Mind if we have a little chat?

She was reloading her spent round back into the chamber when she heard his voice. She actually chuckled. "Sure. I'd say ya got 'bout five minutes til the reinforcements I called for arrive." Normally she was really good at bluffing. Seriously ask any of her poker buddies; she once won a 2k pot with nothing but a pair of threes. However, she wasn't sure if she'd be bluffing her way out of this situation.

She cocked her gun to load another round into the barrel. "So less'n ya plan on talkin' me ta death..." She heard a set of footsteps trying to sneak up around her and she turned and fired another shot in his direction, though she wasn't sure if she actually hit anything; it was more a warning shot anyway. She was panting pretty hard which she couldn't hide at this point. "Though, I reckon if that is your plan, then by all means." She tried to take a deep breath in but it was much more painful than it should have been. "Let's chat."

=i waved down the soldiers, trying to get them to stay back=
No one has to die. Tell me your name, maybe we can work something out.

"Hah," she scoffed at his remark about no one having to die. "Easy for you to say, bub. You're not surrounded by raiders in the middle of some god-forsaken jungle with a punctured lung... It's nothin' personal, sug', I'm sure you're a very nice raider an' all, but I'd rather piss glass than-" she was unexpectedly seized by another fit of coughing that wracked her entire body, making her groan in pain. She couldn't hold her head up anymore and promptly collapsed sideways; spots were swimming in her vision.

=I see someone fall over, and I start to walk over to them cautiously=
Lady, I couldn't give a rat's ass what you think we are, but we have rules. One of those rules is to help people who need help.

=that wasn't really a rule. The only real rule was to do what I said, and generally that meant just keep the ship running=

It looked like four men were approaching, but Betty knew that was just the double double vision talking. In reality she knew it was just one, so she idly kept her shotgun pointed in the general vicinity of the man(men) as he(they) approached. She slowly moved away from him until her back was once more against the tree. If he wanted to kill her, now would be his best opportunity. She was a wounded bird fallen from her nest.

When he spoke, he almost sounded hurt or even offended that she called them raiders... Honourable mercenaries? Did such a thing even exist? She supposed it could be possible. Then again, her chances were better that he was just trying to get her to lower her guard... Hell her guard was pretty much as lowered as it was gonna get...

After a moment, holding the shotgun seemed to be too difficult and her arms and gun lowered to the ground. "I'm afraid... I lack the strength... to point out the fallacies... in your statement." She coughed again and it had already been evident before then that she might have been coughing up blood, what with the small trail of red leading out the corner of her mouth. "And if it's all the same to you... I think I might... pass out now..." The world was spinning and the black spots were becoming huge obtuse circles consuming her vision.

=I walked over to her, and knocked her shotgun away=
In that case, let me take you up to my ship and fix you up. It's only polite.

=i crouched down in front of her, and waited to see if she had a response. I saw the blood coming from her mouth, which I think means internal injury, so if she didn't answer right away, I'd take her up to the ship as fast as I could=

"Why-" her voice rasped and she turned her head to cough again. "Why would you do that?" Betty prided herself on her ability to read people and situations but with that damn mask on he wasn't giving anything away. The only reasons she could possibly think of why mercenaries and men like them would want to help a UNSC soldier would be to get information; or in the case that she was a woman there could be other nefarious purposes behind such actions. Neither scenario was rightly something she wanted to think about.

You are wounded, and there is plenty of time permitting a healing. If this was a firefight, I would probably shoot you myself. But this isn't, so I won't. Also, you're a woman. I got this chivalrous side to me. You do the math.

=i knew she had no reason to trust me, especially after that little fiasco with the whatever it was. Plus, if I got any information out of her, I could use it to get more money. Win win. My chivalrous side is happy, and my coffers and even more filled=

"I don' need yer sshh-chiva'ry..." Her words were slurring slightly. "But I ain' really in no position ta argue here..." She tried to sit up slightly and failed. Her arm was pressed against her ribs which seemed to alleviate some of the pain there. "But, I suppose If'n ya'll go to the trouble o' doctorin' me... I'll try my best not to die on the way..." Leave it to Betty to still make light in such a dire situation.

=i nod and open comms to the troops=
Medic on my position. ASAP. We got a live one, boys.

=i waited a minute, then waved over the medic=
Internal bleeding, maybe. Let's get her to the ship quickly and patch her up.

=i waited for the medic to do the usual pokes and prods medics do, then helped pick her up. I slung her over my shoulder to make it easier to carry her=
Lady, I'm gonna be generous and think the weight is all the armor.

=i commed the squads=
Head back to the Pelicans. Charlie squad, yes Charlie that means you, will stay behind to salvage what they can from the pod. Load up as much of it as you can. We can use the metal.

=we all started to walk through the forest=

He didn't know her that well, so he didn't realize how serious her condition had to be in order for her to allow him to carry her in such a manner. Any other situation and she'd be fighting and beating her way out of his hold. She did manage a soft wheezy chuckle when he commented on her weight. "Wha's'a matter, Sparky? Too much woman for ya..." She'd blame that little comment on the dementia and deliriousness brought on by her injuries.

The sight of the ground passing in front of her face and the slight jostling caused by his large gait, combined with the dizziness that kept making the world swim was making her very nauseous. She was probably concussed as well which would explain the splitting migraine she'd had since waking and other head and vision problems. "Don' take 'is the wrong way, Sparky... but..." She gagged slightly. "I'm 'bout ta puke..."

Call me Bullet, and you better not puke on my armor. You wanna puke, fine, but you do it away from all my important stuff, got it?

=i smiled slightly under my mask as I carried her towards the Pelicans. The other soldier who was shot was being carried as well, and he was cursing and shouting like someone just shot his parents, which, to be fair, someone probably did in his past. But you get the idea. He was cursing loudly. Cursing the pain, cursing this woman, cursing god and anything else he could think of. I let him have his rant, let him feel less pain=

"I'll do my best ta-" Her words were cut off when the bile came spilling up her throat and out her mouth. Even though she hadn't been trying, somehow she managed to avoid his armour. There wasn't much to throw up anyway so not like she had this huge opportunity.

Despite the blood rushing in her ears she could hear the other man's screaming over it all. She was half delirious when she'd made the shot and it was aimed more at the ground, she'd probably barely winged him at the distance he was at. He mighta taken a pellet or two in the leg or something... Yet he was over there crying bloody murder... "What a fuckin' pussy..." She thought, not realizing she'd said it out loud.

Well, hey, if it makes him feel better, what right do I have to tell him to shut the hell up? It's not all that annoying, or distracting.

=we made it onto the the Pelicans, and we took off, leaving Charlie squad behind to work on the pod. I set the woman on a seat as we lifted off, and strapped her in as the rest of us sat down. I checked my back for vomit, and found none, thankfully. The Pelicans worked their way up into orbit, and headed towards the Dead and Back=

"Thank you." She said to him as she leaned her head back in her seat. She'd always found the steady thrum of an engine and the vibrations of a ship during takeoff and landing to be very relaxing and the unconsciousness that she'd been fighting pretty much ever since she woke up began to pull at her vision. "Seeya on t'other side, Sparky." Yeah she heard him say his name was Bullet, but if there was anything anyone could tell you about her, it'd be that she was annoying and downright stubborn with her nicknames. With that final thought she let blackness take her.

=we flew up through the atmosphere, cruising on wings of fire. Soon, the blackness of space loomed before us, and we angled our course towards the carrier. I kept an eye on the woman, making sure she didn't die. The rest of the soldiers were talking idly, filling the cargo room with random conversations. After some time of flying, we arrived in the carrier. I commed the medbay and alerted them to two casualties, and as we landed, two stretchers and medical teams came out, taking the woman and the soldier away to the medbay to be worked on. I headed up to the bridge to get an eye on the situation on the planet and in space. In the medbay, the doctors started to work on the the woman we captured. They took the armor off, then started surgery to fix and internal bleeding, the assumptions made found correct by scanning equipment. A short time passes, and the doctors sew up any open wounds, and place her in the medical bay, with a guard nearby for when she wakes up. The soldier that was shot only had a few pellets in his arm, and was taken care of immediately, needing only the care of some tweezers and bandages. I was up on the bridge, listening to radio traffic on open frequencies=

The sound of beeping medical equipment pulled her back to consciousness. Betty managed to feign sleep for several moments so she could try to suss out her situation. She wasn't restrained save for an IV plugged into her arm. From the sound of it she'd guess they were on a carrier of some sort... Nowhere near as big as the Illustrious, but depending on it's fire power and crew it could still be a formidable force.

As far as she could tell there was no one else in the room but judging by the voices she occasionally heard, there was probably someone standing guard just outside her door. Betty peeked open one eye, where in fact she saw no one in the room so she opened both eyes and took the opportunity to take in her surroundings. She was in the medbay, obviously. As soon as she could she needed to find out a way to find a schematic of the ship... Until then though, she'd try to look for alternate means of escape. She had an inkling that her, what was he? Rescuer? Captor? Enemy? Well until she could put a point on it she'd just continue calling him Sparky... She had an inkling that Sparky would be the hardest one to fool in this bunch. It was him she'd have to worry about.

=a Nurse opened the door, then spoke to the guard=
"She's awake."

=the Nurse then walked into the room to check up on the equipment and check her vital signs while the guard radioed me and let me know. I radioed back a confirmation and started to head down there. I walked along, wondering how best to approach this situation. It had been awhile since I had interrogated anyone, unless you count my sister, which I don't. She was still probably in the cells, calling out to talk to me and make me take her home to our "loving" family. Anyway, I walked along, making sure I had my revolvers loaded and secure=

Betty hated nurses and doctors. Most of 'em were just guessing half the time, anyway.

"How are you feeling?" Her nauseatingly cheerful voice asked.

"I'm fine." Betty said as the nurse kept checking her vitals. Betty's eyes never left the guard that came in with the nurse though. She let the nurse go through the motions until she went for Betty's gown to check her stitches and things. Then Betty had a problem. "Easy with the grabby hands, toots, this ain't no peep show!" When the nurse tried again, Betty pushed her hands away again. "Back off, Delilah. I'm fine!" The nurse groaned in frustration but stopped with a huff.

"You're an insufferable patient!"

"Yeah, I git that a lot." Betty responded with a smirk.

(Dylon)
=i walk up to the room and lean on the door frame. I scratch at my chin behind my mask=
She being cooperative?

=the nurse shook her head and walked off=
See, why do you have to be difficult, miss?

She noticed him walk in like he owned the place, hell he probably did. "I guess cause it's in my nature." When the nurse left she removed the oxygen tube from her nose. "And cause I hate hospitals."

She glanced at him still in his armour, mask intact and she crossed her arms over her chest. "And interrogations."

Good, then we have something in common.

=i walk over and sit down on a nearby chair used for visitors and such=
So, to save some time, tell me everything you have on the UNSC's current deployment on this planet and we can be done.

Her jaw muscles clenched and she took a deep breath in. Just when it seemed like they might be able to get along. "You know I can't do that, Sparky." She didn't expect any preferential treatment. She was a prisoner of war. The fact that they took the time and effort to heal her was far more than she could have ever expected.

Sure you can. It's easy. Look, I'll even show yo how to do it. "I am Mrs. Stubborn, and my friends in the UNSC are dying and their deaths will go a lot faster and will be much less painful once I give the following information."

=i then cut off, waiting for her response=

Her jaw muscles worked even harder and she brushed her hair out of her face. She turned away from him looking straight forward, as if she no longer acknowledged his presence. "First Lieutenant Elizabeth Black, Serial number 0156842." Her name and rank; information evidently visible via her UNSC dog tags. It was basically her way of saying fuck you.

=i sigh=
Okay, let's try this again.

=i pull out one of my revolvers and rest the bayonet point lightly against her leg=
Give me something I can sell, and I won't have to take your foot.

She laughed, actually laughed as if he'd just told the most amusing joke. "You're all the fuckin' same. Comin' in here pistols flashin', thinkin' jus' cause I have tits automatically means I'm'a cow to your fuckin' threats." Betty turned and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staring directly into the slits in his mask. "Stop fuckin' wastin' your time, Bullet." She said his name almost mockingly. She simply stared at him for a long moment before she opened her mouth again, speaking angrily. "First Lieutenant Elizabeth Black, Serial number 0156842."

=i calmly and silently aimed and fired a shot straight into her lower leg, right above the ankle. I stared at her through the mask. Waiting to see what she had to say next. I used the more normal revolver, the one that didn't fire shotgun pellets or deafen people without ear protection. I used the one with small explosive charges on the back of the bullets=

Betty didn't flinch when he moved. Every one of her senses was in tune to him and his gun, even down to the instant he pulled the trigger... When his finger pulled back on the hammer, she reacted. In a blurring instant of motion, she braced her weight on her arms on the bed and kicked out with her leg. The bullet only grazed her calf as her leg kicked out at the hand his gun was in. Whether she knocked the gun out of his hand or simply knocked his hand away, she didn't rightly care as long as the outcome was the revolver no longer pointing at her.

With a rebel yell of sorts the old south used to be famous for, she dived into him with the intent of knocking him to the ground. Should she have mentioned that CQC and hand-to-hand was her forte? She could grapple, box, fight, brawl or wrestle with the best of 'em.

=it took me a moment to realize she had tackled me to the ground. I kneed her in the kidneys, and tried to roll so I could get on top and end this fight before it began. I tried to swing my arm to get to my revolver into a position to threaten her with it. I also tried to get to my other revolver, still in it's holster on my forearm. The guard heard the sounds and stepped into the doorway and pointed his rifle=

"FREEZE!"

She groaned when his knee connected with her side, causing the still fresh pain in her side to shoot pain like lightening through her system. Their little grapple was short lived as she ended up being pinned by the mass of his weight. The guard's orders from the door didn't matter much cause the threat was hollow; he'd have to shoot through his own leader to get at her. She tried to squirm from his grasp, though without success. "Kill me or get the fuck off me." Her bravado was fading ever so slightly. This was definitely not the predicament she wanted to find herself in. Too many horror stories and nightmares had spawned from situations like this. Pain and torture she could withstand in almost all its measures. She'd been there done that. The possible threat of sexual abuse, however, was usually another story... Even though she'd also been there... Done that...

Are you going to run again? Or do any kind of attack?

=i pointed the revolver at her face, the point of the bayonet maybe five inches from her neck=

Because I would really, rather not get blood all over my armor, medbay, or these beds. Plus, bullet holes are hard to get out of the floor,

"Now, what the hell in your entire encounter with me makes you think I'd just rollover and go quietly, hmm? Like I ain't never stared down the barrel of an enemy's gun before? There's nothin' you can do to me to make me give up my men or anything else, so you'd be saving yourself a lot of time and headache if you just killed me now? Otherwise, I've been told I can be a real pain in the ass..." She doubted she'd be talking her way out of this, but one could never blame her for trying... She didn't really want to die, but she was prepared for it. "My conscience is prepared... How's yours?"

To kill? Miss, I've killed before, cold blood, warm blood, boiling blood. I've seen the death of strangers, family members, close friends, and mortal enemies. Killing you is nothing to me but an inconvenience, something extra I have to take care of and clean up to keep my ship running.

=i draw my shotgun-revolver and fire it on either side of her head, right next to her ears. I raised my voice to make sure she heard me over the echoing sound of the shells=
Now do I have to clean up a mess or will you just cooperate!

She flinched when he shot right next to her ears, making her go momentarily deaf. She stretched her jaw and shook her head trying to make the ringing go away. She looked up at him and could hear some form of muffle muttering but the ringing in her ears was still too loud. "I cain't hear ya, Sparky, ya kinda shot-out my ear drums." She practically yelled unable to hear her own level of her voice. "And I cain't read your lips behind that god-awful mask your wearin'."

=i lifted my mask up so she could see my face. My milk-white skin and red eyes glaring at her. I repeated what I asked=
Will you cooperate now? Or do I have to shoot you and create more work!

Well, that was a little unexpected, not unusual just unexpected. Still, a window of opportunity was a window of opportunity. Betty steeled herself and in a blur of motion brought her head forward, slamming into his nose. "Ow..." She said, momentarily going cross-eyed. "Nobody wins in a head-butt."

Anticipating his ire and more threats with the gun waving she laid back and held out her hands in supplication. "That was for shooting me and kneeing me in the gut." She sighed heavily. "I don't wanna die..." She trie dto put on her most convincing doe-face.