"Do I make myself clear, Sergeant?"

Looking over at the tall, blond-haired Colonel, Marcus bit back a scathing retort and instead nodded shortly.

"Crystal, sir," he replied tersely.

"Good," Darrows said, smiling smugly. Marcus wanted nothing more than to wipe, or rather, punch, that condescending, snake-like grin off Darrows' face, but he stood still.

"Anything else, sir?" Marcus asked.

"One other thing," Darrows stated, holding up a finger. "If Corporal Baird pulls any level of insubordination, arrest him on the spot. Colonel Loomis may have been forgiving in his charges, but I will not be."

His jaw setting, Marcus remained silent. He had nothing good to say to Darrows at this point, and about the nicest thing Marcus could think of at the moment involved questioning the marital state of Darrows' parents when the Colonel was conceived.

"Understood, Sergeant Fenix?" Darrows asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir," Marcus growled back. "There will be no insubordination on Corporal Baird's part."

"So glad to hear it," Darrows answered, slowly turning his attention back to a map on his desk. "You're dismissed, Sergeant."

Nodding and exiting Darrows' office as quickly as he could without running, Marcus stalked out into the hallway. Darrows was purposefully pushing every button Marcus had, and doing a damn good job at it, too. Shit, the bastard was almost as bad as Baird for getting on Marcus's last nerve.

Except Baird knew when to quit...he just chose to ignore that stopping point. Darrows, on the other hand, either didn't know or didn't care, and it was downright maddening to watch somebody so flagrantly abuse their power of command.

Walking to the garage, Marcus mulled over the orders that Darrows had so generously given them.

Marcus was to take Baird, Clay, and Harris to a large mansion turned science lab to retrieve data on a weapons system that, according to Darrows, would give them a significant edge in fighting the grubs. Personally Marcus thought it was another way that Darrows had found to waste resources and put Gears at risk, but he was in no place to argue. If anything, he could ask Baird about the weapons system later and see if actually was worth anything.

Entering the garage, Marcus narrowed his eyes slightly at being hit by the blast of hot, stifling air that seemed to be unique to the garage. Baird was busy working on an Armadillo, the blond-haired Gear lying on his back underneath the armored vehicle.

"Having fun?"

Obviously not expecting anybody in the garage, Baird suddenly jerked and there was a metallic clang of his forehead meeting some piece of metal under the Armadillo. Immediately a string of expletives followed, and Baird kicked the ground futilely as he tried to mitigate some of the pain.

"Was up until some dark-haired Sergeant started yakking and ruining my concentration," came the hissed reply. He slid out from underneath the Armadillo and glared up at Marcus. "What do you want?"

"New orders from Colonel Darrows."

"Oh man," Baird groaned, rolling his eyes and letting his head lightly fall back on the concrete. "What does that windbag want now?"

"We're to retrieve the data and schematics of a weapons system that's currently being used at an old mansion turned science facility."

"Another one of his goddamn ghost hunts?"

"Doesn't sound like it. Showed me the map of the area and looks like everything's there. We just have to retrieve it."

"You sure it was Darrows, then?" Baird asked, frowning and adjusting his goggles. "That ninny almost never has his shit in gear. He's worse than this Armadillo with a busted transmission."

"He also said I'm to arrest you on the spot if you display any insubordination."

"Oh good!" Baird said in sarcastically cheery tone. "It was Darrows. I mean, poor little me just couldn't take it if the bastard tragically disappeared and we never heard from him again."

"What? Heart can't handle that much joy?" Marcus asked, crossing his arms.

"Pretty much," Baird confirmed, standing up and dusting himself off. He almost never worse the coveralls that were provided for the base mechanics, preferring to stick with a white, and now oil stained and grease smattered, T-shirt and a pair of tattered combat fatigues.

"We leave in three hundred hours," Marcus advised. He glanced over Baird quickly. It had been months since the farmhouse incident, and Baird had been given a clean bill of health. Even so, Marcus felt uneasy of throwing Baird back into the fray. "You doing okay?"

Pausing in the middle of putting tools away, Baird turned away from the work table and grinned at Marcus.

"Hold the presses ladies and gentlemen," Baird said smugly, holding up his hands and swaggering towards Marcus. "Is the big, bad Sergeant Fenix worried about the insubordinate Corporal Baird? What? Afraid I'm still broken?"

"Your sarcasm obviously isn't," Marcus retorted, glancing around the garage. They were alone. At least, for the moment. "But I meant your ribs, asshole."

"Aw, you do care," Baird crooned, stepping closer to Marcus until he was just a few inches from the Sergeant.

In response, Marcus grabbed Baird's shoulders and pulled him close, kissing him roughly. Baird chuckled and gently grasped Marcus's face, his fingers running along Marcus's jawline. Deepening the kiss, Marcus carefully backed Baird against the Armadillo, grinning when he heard Baird make a quiet grunt of surprise. Baird's hands slipped up and he momentarily grasped at the back of Marcus's neck.

"Somebody's getting bolder," Baird murmured smugly, nipping at Marcus's bottom lip.

"Bold nothing," Marcus answered, kissing Baird again, more or less pinning him against the Armadillo. "Just making sure you're healed up before we go charging into grub-infested turf again."

"Yeah, well...last check for good measure...and because I'm a greedy son of a bitch." Kissing Marcus firmly before pulling back, Baird grinned confidently. "Yep. Good to go. Thanks for the concern there, Sarge."

Leaning back against the Armadillo, Baird crossed his arms, keeping his grin.

"So...we get to go after a weapons system, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah. Darrows says it's got some sort of way to track the grubs and will help with the turrets and automated defense systems."

"It track them by their stench or what?" Baird asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because if so I think half the bastards on this base are in trouble. You'd think they'd forgotten what a shower was."

"You're not a bunch of roses yourself, Baird."

"Hey, I shower...often enough!"

"Whatever you say, blondie."

()

The Raven buzzed through the air, its rotors tearing through the wispy clouds. Sitting in his seat, Harris peeked over the edge of the passenger hold cautiously, whistling when he could barely see the ground below them. Beside Harris, Clay lightly tapped on the top of Harris's helmet.

"Don't fall," Clay teased.

Jerking slightly, Harris looked over his shoulder at Clay.

"Shit, Carmine! You scared the hell out of me!"

"It's Clay...or Clayton, whichever," Clay corrected. "And stop being such a sissy. Not like I was going to push you off or anything."

"...well, yeah, I'd hope so," Harris answered slowly.

"I gotta' have somebody distract the grubs while I shoot them."

Harris just stared at Clay, then looked over at Marcus, who was looking out at the ground on the other side of the Raven.

"Sir? Sergeant Fenix?"

Turning his gaze to Harris, Marcus nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

"What's keeping this weapons system from turning on us?" Harris asked. "Or...could the grubs have changed it so that it tracks Gears instead?"

"Hell if I know," Marcus grumbled, shrugging. "Ask the blond genius over there."

"Yeah, but...he yells at me," Harris muttered.

"Awww, poor rookie," Clay crooned, patting the top of Harris's helmet roughly. "He's afraid of the mean, 'ole Baird's squawking!"

"Hey! Cut it out!" Harris swatted at Clay's hand quickly, grumbling under his breath.

"Hey, Baird!" Clay yelled.

Baird was fast asleep, having nodded off in his seat in the Raven. Harris blinked and then looked over at Clay.

"How the hell can he sleep through all this noise?"

"Beats the shit out of me," Clay replied. He picked up a roll of rope and hurled it at Baird. "Baird!"

The rope smacked Baird in the chest, and he promptly woke up...and none too happy. Almost immediately in response, Clay pointed over at Harris, who had changed his gaze back to the ground below the Raven. Focusing his scowl on Harris, Baird balled the rope up and threw it at the Private, hitting Harris square in the helmet.

With a short yelp, Harris quickly pulled the rope off his helmet and looked at Baird in startled confusion.

"What the fuck do you want, rookie?" Baird hissed.

"See? He always yells at me," Harris said, looking over at Clay.

"Yeah, I see that," Clay agreed, desperately fighting back the urge to laugh.

"I was asking Sergeant Fenix if the weapons system might shoot at us or if the grubs could have turned it against us," Harris explained to Baird, a little wary of anything else being thrown at him.

"How the hell should I know?" Baird snapped back. "The last guys at that place could have gone cuckoo bananas for all I know and made it so that the weapons shoot anything bigger than a flea."

"Oh...so...what are we going to do, then?"

"Send you in first, asshole," Baird replied, sitting back in his seat.

Harris looked over in mute panic at Clay, who shrugged.

"Sorry, rookie. Ladies first and all that."

Sighing heavily, Harris let his head fall back against the back of his seat. He knew the hoops that he'd have to jump through to get promoted, and the bureaucratic bullshit that it entailed, but he was more than ready to get rid of the title 'Private' in front of his name.

Marcus had watched the entire scene unfold, then gave Clay a pointed look, who shrugged innocently in response.

"What?" Clay asked.

"You should know better than to sic Baird on unsuspecting rookies like that."

"Ahhh, rookie needs to toughen up. Little pansy gets babied enough as it is. Probably going to go running to Dom once this is all over anyways. Rookie practically worships the ground he walks on, anyways."

"I do not!" Harris protested...a bit too loudly.

The other three Gears looked at Harris in a mix of surprise and suspicion, and Harris immediately ducked his head. Clay began prodding lightly at the side of Harris's helmet.

"Rookie has a boyfriend, rookie has a boyfriend."

"I do not and cut it out!" Harris protested, once again swatting Clay's hand away.

"You're going to have to go through Marcus first, though," Clay laughed. "Doesn't let anybody near his brother."

"I'm not going to have to go through anybody because I'm not dating Dom, you idiot!" Harris practically yelled. "Besides, I already have a girlfriend!"

"Oh, so you're a swinger, huh?" Clay continued.

"...I am going to throw you off this helicopter," Harris threatened flatly.

"Take your best shot, rookie," Clay challenged.

"Enough, you two," Marcus interrupted. He then looked at Harris and smirked faintly. "Besides, Dom's pretty picky about the kind of brunette he dates."

Sighing and making a quiet whimper of defeat, Harris hung his head. At this rate, he might be better off being kidnapped by the Locust.

()

As the Raven began to descend, Marcus took a good, long look at the building. Darrows hadn't been kidding when he had referred to the thing as a "sprawling mansion." It looked like two L's had been set on their side and put together, with the remnants of what had been lush gardens surrounding it. The greenery had long since wilted and turned brown, but a few last remnants of living grass and shrubbery were visible.

The Raven was circling the mansion slowly, and while it looked to be in fairly decent shape, all things considered, Marcus could already see a couple of Drones milling around. The Raven was still high enough that they hadn't noticed it, and Marcus could only hope their luck held out.

"We've got company," Marcus advised.

"Should we break out the welcome wagon?" Clay asked, motioning to the mounted machine gun in the belly of the Raven.

"Not yet," Marcus replied, shaking his head. "We run the risk of damaging something inside the mansion that we may need."

"Aww...dammit," Clay grumbled. "I never get to have any fun."

"We'll drop you off towards the rear entrance," the Raven pilot announced. "Looks like there aren't any grubs there."

"Pft, and here I was wanting the red carpet entrance," Baird said sarcastically.

The Raven buzzed as low as it could to the ground, and Marcus grabbed one of the ropes that they would be using to slide down from the helicopter to the ground.

"Baird, let's go," Marcus ordered with a slight jerk of his head. "Clay, Harris, you're up next once Baird and I are on the ground."

"Whee," Baird grumbled, grabbing the other rope and sliding down. "Raven Airways guarantees sprained ankles and rope burns or your money back."

Marcus followed suit, and once his boots hit the ground, he pressed his fingers against the tac comm in his ear.

"Clay, Harris, get your asses down here."

A high-pitched, almost mechanical sounding scream hummed lowly in the air, and Baird looked up and he suddenly began waving at the Raven furiously. Marcus recognized the sound just moments later, and he began shouting into the tac comm hurriedly.

"Scratch that! Get out of there! You've got mortars incoming! Get the hell out of there!"

Realizing the threat, the pilot instinctively immediately swerved the Raven to the right, and for a few split seconds, it looked as though Clay had been thrown free of the Raven. Harris's hand shot out and grabbed Clay's arm, while Harris had his other arm wrapped around the stand of the mounted machine gun tightly.

"Shit, shit, shit! Holy shit!" Clay yelled. He managed to swing his other arm up so that he had both hands on Harris's.

"Hang on!" Harris cried through gritted teeth. It felt as though Clay was going to rip his arm off, but there was no way he was letting the Gear plummet to an almost certain death.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Clay shouted back.

More mortars began to hail down from the sky, and the pilot wildly veered the Raven, desperate to avoid being hit. One of the mortars clipped the tail of the Raven, sending it spinning for a few minutes. Even without the tac comm, Marcus could hear Clay yelling. So far, though, Harris seemed to be doing a good job of keeping Clay from falling to the ground below.

"Grubs know we're here!" Marcus yelled to Baird. "Get inside the mansion!"

"What about the Raven?" Baird asked, looking between Marcus and the Raven as it slowly began to stabilize.

"I've got to get this thing landed before we crash!" the pilot yelled in panic over the tac comm. "This zone is way too hot!"

"Get clear of the mortars!" Marcus ordered over the tac comm. He and Baird were already racing across the long abandoned gardens towards the rear entrance of the mansion. "Baird and I will proceed with the mission! Just be ready to evac us!"

"There's no way you guys can go on your own!" Clay protested.

"We'll handle it!" Marcus retorted.

"You just worry about all the frequent flyer miles you've just racked up!" Baird added.

"Fuck you, Baird! Fuck you, you fucking fuck!" came the furious reply

"Get inside!" Marcus yelled to Baird.

The two sprinted across the dead gardens as the ground around them exploded into plumes of dead foliage, dirt, and molten slag. They zig-zagged towards the small metal door that, at the moment seemed as though it was miles away.

"Goddammit! Incoming!" Baird warned, vaulting over a broken vase.

A fresh storm of mortars thundered down onto the ground, but by this point, Marcus had reached the door. He slammed his shoulder against it, and the door fortunately gave way. Darting inside, Marcus waited until Baird was safely inside the mansion as well before slamming the door shut. Baird had already grabbed a large supply crate and dragged it in front of the back door, barricading it. It wouldn't hold a Drone off for very long, but it was better than nothing.

The two Gears paused to catch their breaths, and Marcus looked around quickly, scanning their surroundings. They were in a service hallway of sorts, and it was quiet.

That is, until Baird suddenly yelped and began frantically combing his fingers through his blond hair.

"Goddammit! Got some of that slag in my fucking hair! Great...now I smell almost as bad as those goddamn grubs," Baird snarled. He winced and rubbed the back of his head. "Burned the shit out of my head, too. Now I know what a goddamn marshmallow on a stick feels like."

"I think you'll live," Marcus interjected. "But you've always been a bit of a marshmallow there, princess."

"Fuck you, too, then," Baird grumbled, shouldering his Lancer. "Can we go while we're still young?"

"Yeah, let's go," Marcus agreed.

The two started walking down the hallway, their footfalls echoing ominously through long abandoned hallway. Looking around slowly, Marcus could see claw marks and bullet holes that riddled the concrete.

"Grubs have already torn this place a new one," Marcus commented quietly. "We'll be lucky if they left anything intact."

"We'll be lucky if we're left intact," Baird grumbled. "Goddamn Locust were milling all over place when we flew in."

"Yeah. I saw."

"There's no way they'd be after that system," Baird continued. "Stinking grubs were probably looking for survivors."

"Here's hoping they found this place deserted."

"Hey, I'm more than happy to greet them. My Lancer's been lonely for a conversational partner. Seems it only gets in one argument before the other guy's suddenly lost the will to speak."
"Yeah, well the rest of us aren't complaining that your Lancer doesn't have a goddamn pen pal," Marcus retorted.

"Such a cranky bull," Baird grumbled. "What? You don't like getting shot at by mortars before ten in the morning? I can't start my day if I don't get to run for my life at least once."

"Shut it, Baird," Marcus sighed in exasperation. "Your yakkin' is going to alert every grub in this place."

"Oh get over it," Baird sneered. He tilted his head slightly towards the ceiling. "Those little shits are still bombing the hell out of the gardens out there. They couldn't hear a Leviathan with severe stomach distress charging through an Imulsion plant at this point."

"And what's to say that some of those little shits aren't down here in the service tunnels?"

"Well then we must have stumbled across the clan of yellow-bellied, chickenshit, reject, little shit Locusts, because they sure as hell aren't attacking. If they're even here."

"Are you trying to get your blond ass arrested with that much back talk?" Marcus asked, glancing over his shoulder at Baird.

"Damn, you're getting kinky on me already and breaking out the handcuffs?" Baird retorted, raising an eyebrow. "We've had, what, like one drinking night together and already I need to come up with a safe word? Shit, man, you don't give a guy a break, do you?"

Grumbling under his breath as he walked towards a service elevator, Marcus didn't answer Baird. Now the blond-haired Gear was just pushing every button he could, and judging by Baird's smug grin, he was pleased with his progress so far.

"Get your ass in the elevator before I decide to leave you down here," Marcus muttered, standing inside the service elevator.

Chuckling and stepping over the elevator threshold, Baird glanced over at the control panel and pressed the 'UP' button. The elevator hummed to life and began to slowly ascend. Suddenly one of the pulleys shrieked in protest as it jammed, and though the elevator continued upwards, the metallic shrieking only got worse

Both Gears immediately drew their Lancers to the ready, Baird flinching slightly against the metallic scream.

"Goddammit! If the grubs didn't know we were here, they sure as hell know now!"

"Shut up and be ready!" Marcus replied angrily. He hated machines sometimes. Marcus would never understand how Baird dealt with the damn things on a regular basis without losing his mind.

As the elevator screeched to a halt, the doors opened with an ironically cheerful dinging noise, and sure enough, there were about four Wretches already rounding the corner at full tilt. Marcus didn't even need to give the order as he and Baird opened fire on the smaller Locust. The bullets ripped through their flesh, but didn't deter them. With the same blood-crazed determination that all the other Locust had, the Wretches continued their suicidal charge forward.

One of the Wretches at the forefront collapsed and skidded on the slick floor, causing the two behind it to trip over its still twitching corpse. Having lost their momentum, the other two Wretches were quickly dispatched. The last one managed to leap over its fallen compatriots, but Marcus lunged forward and swung his Lancer upwards, the chainsaw bayonet revving and tearing through the Wretches' throat. It made one last gurgled shriek before thudding to the floor.

"Let's go, let's go," Marcus ordered.

The two Gears jogged out of the elevator and found themselves in a large hallway, the marble walls adorned with various displays, all of which were in multiple stages of disrepair. It looked as though the bedrooms of the mansion had been converted into display rooms, though most of them had been blocked off after E-Day. Even so, it looked as though the Locust hadn't really cared about the red velvet coated ropes used to close off the rooms, and as Marcus and Baird quickly made their way down the hallway, they could see that the doors were either swung open, broken open, or missing completely.

"I guess the Locust don't really care for museums, huh?" Baird commented.

"Maybe they're more of an opera bunch," Marcus answered.

The two came to another hallway that intersected the one they were currently jogging down. Marcus looked over to Baird, who was already glancing at the various plaques indicating the sections of the museum.

"Which way, Baird?"

"Administration offices," Baird replied. He motioned to the plaque that read 'Defense Display.' "Should be right past the Defense Display. Wonder how much of a laugh the grubs got at stomping on all the shit that was supposed to hold them off..."

"Guess we're gonna' find out," Marcus grumbled.

The two once again began jogging down the hallway, but as they drew closer to the double doors that led to the Defense Display, Marcus swore he could hear the sound of rushing water. Glancing over at Baird, Marcus jerked his head slightly.

"You hear water?"

"Yeah, probably one of the service tunnels is flooded. This thing has a basement, too," Baird answered. "If the grubs went through and wrecked everything, there's a good chance that either a service tunnel, or the basement, or both, got flooded. But hey, least it makes this place lakeside property now, huh?"

"...wonderful," Marcus muttered. He was never really fond of the water, and the idea that he and Baird were running over a potentially flooded area didn't sit well with him. Not to mention that in full armor, there was no way that Marcus or Baird could swim if needed. And if the water was over their heads...

Marcus quickly shoved aside the thought. Of all the ways to die, drowning was one of the most sinister.

Stopping at the double doors, Marcus put a hand on the door handle of the door that was slightly ajar. He glanced inside the room quickly, but saw nothing except a bunch of destroyed dioramas. Looking over at Baird, Marcus nodded slightly, and Baird readied his Lancer. Shoving the door open, both Marcus and Baird quickly scanned the room through the sights of their Lancers. All they saw were the destroyed dioramas, broken displays, and the floor was littered with pamphlets, flyers, and the debris from the destroyed museum presentations.

"Aw man," Baird grumbled. "Looks like we missed the tour and everything. Goddamn pilot should've flown faster, I tell you."

"Can it, Baird," Marcus snapped. They had to be getting close to the Locust at this point, especially after the Wretches, and Baird's yakking was going to do nothing but draw the Locust to them.

Fortunately, though, Baird fell silent, and he looked around the room slowly. He then jerked his head slightly towards the rear of the large, circular room.

"C'mon," Baird said lowly. "This way. Should be an elevator up to the administrative level."

Nodding, Marcus followed Baird through the room. The Defense Display room was a large, circular room with exits on the left and right sides, both of which led to other marble hallways. At one point, it must have been a very impressive sight to behold when the room wasn't utterly destroyed. But now...it was a very sobering walk, to see miniature models of the Hammer of Dawn, the Lightmass Missile, King Raven helicopters, and even a pictorial representation of the evolution of the Lancer...all of them were destroyed. Small piles of rubble, broken marble walls and display stands, were scattered around the floor. Smashed into pieces, ripped apart, or even stomped on, the Locust seemed to have taken a very sincere interest in obliterating the replicas of the weaponry that had been meant to stop them.

Sighing heavily and shaking his head, Marcus focused on following Baird. If the blond had been disturbed by the destruction of all the displays and dioramas, Baird didn't show it. He kept walking to the back of the circular display room where a small wall and a corded off elevator were set against the wall. As Baird nonchalantly kicked aside the red velvet covered cords and stands, he walked over to the elevator control panel, inspecting it carefully. Glancing around quickly, Marcus cradled his Lancer in his arms. He could hear scuffling outside in the hallway they had just been in, and the Sergeant had a sinking suspicion that the Locust were closing in on their position.

"Baird, we're about to have company," Marcus warned.

"Just working on this elevator control panel," Baird muttered in response. "Should be just a few more minutes."

"You've got about thirty seconds," Marcus retorted quickly. He could hear the doors starting to rattle slightly as the Locust drew closer. "...goddammit, Baird. Hurry the hell up...!"

"Workin' on it as fast as I can, Marcus," Baird hissed. But Marcus could hear the frustration and tension in Baird's voice, and he realized that thirty seconds wasn't enough time to get the elevator working.

"You keep working on getting that damn control panel working," Marcus muttered, bringing his Lancer up. Fortunately he and Baird had a large, waist-high barrier that had been used as a sort of deterrent for visitors to keep them from accessing the elevator. While it really was mostly for looks, it would at least provide cover when the Locust showed up.

And as if on cue, the Locust broke into the Defense Display room. It was three Drones from the looks of it, but Marcus could already hear the lumbering steps of a Boomer. As the Drones drew their weapons, Marcus grabbed Baird by the shoulder and forcibly pulled him down to the floor.

"Keep your blond head down, genius!" Marcus snapped.

"I almost got the control panel!" Baird replied angrily over the noise of the gunfire.

"Yeah well the Locust almost got you!"

Narrowing his eyes, Baird crawled over and began fumbling somewhat blindly with the control panel, trying to get the last bit of wiring pieced back together. Standing up quickly, Marcus trained his Lancer on the closest Drone, firing three consecutive, concentrated bursts before ducking back down to cover. He looked over at Baird.

"You almost done there, blondie?" Marcus inquired loudly.

"Workin' on it, workin' on it! Things would go a lot faster if I didn't have these goddamn bullets flying at my fuckin' head!"

"How about forgettin' about the damn control panel for about two seconds and shoot some goddamn grubs?!"

Snarling in frustration, Baird stood up from the cover that the wall was providing and fired at the Drone that Marcus had already wounded. It staggered and fell to its hands and knees, but wasn't completely dead.

"Goddammit, you turd with teeth! Stay dead!" Baird shouted, firing another wild burst of gunfire.

The bullets ripped into the Drone's skull and throat, and it collapsed to the floor, twitching in its last few death throes.

"There! Scratch one grub!" Baird yelled triumphantly.

"We've still got two more and a Boomer!" Marcus retorted, standing up and firing at the next Drone that had been foolish enough to leave the cover it had found behind a display stand.

"God-fucking-dammit!" Baird hissed. He turned his attention back to the Locust, and began firing a steady burst of gunfire at the Boomer who had tromped into the room and was slowly advancing towards them. "I'm tryin' to do some very delicate wiring work, here, you inconsiderate assholes! Go bug your goddamn bitch Queen!"

"Less yammering, more shooting!" Marcus ordered.

"What does it look like I'm doin'!?"

The Drone that Marcus had focused fire on stumbled and collapsed to the floor, blood trickling from the assortment of bullet holes in its chest and neck, but the Boomer, regardless of its injuries, only kept advancing. Gritting his teeth, Marcus rapidly reloaded his Lancer, then looked over his shoulder at Baird, who had just finished emptying a clip of Lancer ammo into the Boomer.

"I'll deal with the Boomer!" Marcus shouted. "Just get that elevator working!"

"Get the elevator working, Baird," the blond-haired Gear grumbled sarcastically, his voice once again hitting a high-pitched, nasal tone. "Shoot the Locust, Baird! Get the elevator working, Baird! Make up your goddamn mind!"

"I'll be shootin' you next if you don't can it!"

Growling loudly, Baird worked on the wiring as quickly as he could, flinching as a few bullets pinged very close to his hand. One actually bounced off the wall and pegged him in the face, leaving a small burn on his cheek. Cursing but refusing to lose his focus, Baird continued to work on the control panel...and finally it beeped to life.

"Got it!" Baird yelled. "Next time, I'm bringin' JACK! I don't give a shit what Darrows says!"

Hearing the elevator motor kick in, Marcus looked over momentarily at the glass doors. They were still shut, but the Sergeant could see via the reflection the elevator lowering to the floor they were on. They just had to hold out for a bit longer.

"Baird! We gotta' take this Boomer down before he's standing on us!" Marcus ordered. He hadn't fired upon any Locust save for the Boomer, but the damn, hulking thing had refused to go down. It was limping heavily, but it still was advancing towards the two Gears.

"On it!"

Between the focused fire of both Marcus and Baird, the Boomer finally fell to his knees before slumping over to his side. The air reeked of gunsmoke, dust, and Locust blood, but they still had one Drone to deal with. Grabbing one of the frag grenades he was carrying, Marcus tossed it over at where the Drone was hiding behind a large display spread. He grinned grimly when he heard the Drone snarl in horrified surprise, and as the Locust darted out of cover to avoid being ripped apart by the frag grenade, both Marcus and Baird opened fire on the Drone. The bullets did the damage that the frag grenade would have, and the Drone tripped in mid-step, falling to his stomach and sprawling on the ground as the last drops of his life bled from him.

Behind the two Gears, the elevator dinged happily, and Baird glanced over as the doors slid open.

"Ding! Elevator's here! All aboard for sports goods, lady's lingerie, and weapons systems!" Baird announced.

"Just get inside!" Marcus ordered.

Darting into the elevator, Baird set a hand on the doorframe, waiting for Marcus. As the Sergeant rushed inside the elevator, the unmistakable sound of Locust, and a lot of them at that, began to rattle the air. Hells, their footsteps were causing the floor to rattle and the broken displays to shudder.

"...shit," Marcus cursed.

At least seven Drones rushed into the Defense Display room, their guns blazing. The low, rumbling voices of what sounded about two Boomers followed, and there was even the shrieks of Wretches as they began to round the corner and dart into the Defense Display room.

"Oh holy shit!" Baird cried, slamming his palm on the 'Close Doors' button. "We're goddamn sitting ducks, Marcus!"

The doors began to slowly slide shut, but as one of the Drones started to open fire, the bullets managed to fly through the gap between the doors and pinged at the back of the elevator.

"Fuck! Marcus! Watch it!" Baird shouted, shoving Marcus out of the way of the bullets. Unfortunately, as he staggered, Baird felt a bite of white-hot pain in his left arm as a bullet ripped through the thick mesh of his underarmor. "Gah...! ...goddammit! Goddamn grubs!"

The doors slid shut and Marcus quickly grabbed Baird by his uninjured arm.

"Baird! Are you hit?"

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' hit!" Baird snapped back through gritted teeth. "But I'll live...! Just a graze. One of the little bastards got lucky."

Nodding slightly, Marcus stood up, but watched Baird closely as the blond stood up. Shrugging and wincing, Baird gave Marcus a cocky grin.

"You actually worried about little, 'ole me?"

"You're the only one that can pull that weapons system setup out of the computers here, smartass," Marcus retorted, glaring at Baird.

"Pft...you sure that's all?" Baird asked slyly, walking over to Marcus.

Sighing, Marcus gave Baird a tired look. No, that wasn't all, but Marcus couldn't lose his focus right now. He'd already slipped up, and Baird had been injured. Guilt had started to snake its way into Marcus's conscious and he frowned darkly at the elevator doors, which were now flecked with the faint indents of bullet marks. Catching the sudden change of demeanor, Baird snorted and shook his head, backing up.

"Fine. Whatever," he grumbled, cradling his Lancer. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence as the elevator began to slow to a stop, Baird glanced over at Marcus. "How the hell are we gonna' get through that grub-fest once we're done here?"

"I'll figure something out," Marcus answered shortly.

"Okay, then," Baird snapped, rolling his eyes. "Mister gotta' play hero Marcus Fenix."

Marcus gave Baird a pointed look that the blond ignored, but Marcus didn't feel like arguing at this point. He was already starting to get an uneasy feeling because the more he thought about it, the worse it got. If they'd had Clay and Harris with them, they might have stood a chance against the mass of Locust. As it stood right now, though, there was only two of them, and the odds were at least three to one, if not more by this point. Marcus's view of the Defense Display had been obscured right in the middle of him watching even more Locust flood the room.

Looking over at Baird again, Marcus could see a couple of rivulets of dark blood dripping down Baird's arm. The snake of guilt struck, and it struck hard. Marcus hadn't been paying attention, and Baird had had to watch his back...and paid the price for it. It was a situation that Marcus was bitterly familiar with. Those he dragged into battles with him usually ended up paying the ultimate price, regardless of Marcus's best efforts to prevent that.

And then there was Baird...

The sarcastic, acid-tongued jackass that Marcus was willing to put everything on the line for. The one that Marcus should be the most vigilant over.

...and the one that had been injured the moment that Marcus made the mistake of letting his guard down, even slightly.

"Marcus!"

Baird's voice snapped Marcus out of his thoughts and he looked over at the blond, raising an eyebrow slightly. The elevator had stopped and Baird was staring at him with a mix of annoyance and what looked to be concern.

"What the hell is wrong with you, man?" Baird asked. "I've been talkin' to you for about the past three minutes and you've been off in la-la land! I probably could've burst into goddamn flames and been runnin' in circles around you and you would've just stood there."

Staring at Baird as the blond regaled him with the rather creative details of just how deep in thought Marcus had been, the Sergeant sighed heavily and shook his head.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Let's go."

"Uhh...Marcus, we're here," Baird said, motioning to the open elevator doors. He took a step towards Marcus, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you're alright? You're not gettin' all weird on me, are you?"

"No," Marcus answered, steeling over his voice. "Move it, blondie. We still have a job to do."

Grinning, Baird walked out into the computer room, looking around. There was a main desk of computers off against the far wall, while at four larger power and control panels were to each side of the main desk. Readouts and the low, electrical hum emanated from the power/control panels, and strings of code wildly rushed by on the screens of the computers on the main desk. While most of it made about as much sense as quantum physics to Marcus, Baird seemed to be right at home, looking around with a big, almost contented grin on his face.

"Holy shit," he muttered. "Will you take a look at this shit, Marcus? This is some high-grade stuff. Looks like Darrows might actually be onto somethin' this time."

"That's nice, Baird," Marcus muttered, looking around the room slowly.

"'Nice?'" Baird repeated incredulously, still looking at the main computer desk. "This is beyond nice, Marcus. These bastards must've been growin' money on trees to get this kind of stuff. You've got enough processors to power half our fuckin' computer systems back at the base, the databases alone could house over-"

Baird stopped and looked over his shoulder at Marcus, who was staring at Baird blankly. Sighing and shaking his head as his shoulders visibly slumped, Baird walked over to the main computer desk. He began to tap quickly at the keyboard, frowning slightly and shaking his head

"The system's in lockdown. It's gonna' take me a few minutes to get it back up and running," Baird murmured, looking over the displays on the monitors.

Marcus made a low growl and looked over at the elevator. So far it was staying put, and as he began to look around the computer room, Marcus grimly realized that the only way out was the way they had came in. And when they went down that elevator...

Shaking his head and beginning to slowly pace back and forth across the room, Marcus glanced over at Baird, who was still muttering to himself and typing quickly at the keyboard. Occasionally, the blond would run his hand over his hair, but he would return to typing at the keyboard promptly.

As grim realization began to firmly set in and take hold, Marcus paused for a few moments, watching Baird. The blond was off in his own little world at this point, utterly focused on the task at hand, and didn't seem to completely realize the sort of situation that he and Marcus were in.

That was fine by Marcus. His mind had already been made up, and he didn't need Baird distracted at the moment.

"Marcus, hey, come take a look at this," Baird said.

Walking over to the computer, Marcus peered down at the monitor that Baird was pointing at. He could see a few schematics of what looked to be a very intricate and very deadly weapons system, but that was all that he really understood. Baird, however, seemed far more interested in footnotes at the end of the notes.

"What am I looking at?" Marcus inquired.

"A new Connect-The-Dots drawing," Baird snapped sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "What do you think, Marcus? It's the goddamn weapons system. A good one at that. Darrows actually sent us out after something worthwhile this time. But look at this..."

Baird highlighted a footnote, and on it, Marcus read the name 'Dr. Eleanor Boaz.' Frowning, Marcus looked over at Baird.

"Doctor Boaz?" Marcus muttered. "What the hell is her name doing there? She was a psychologist, not a scientist."

"Yeah, I mean, it's no secret that Darrows is after Doc Boaz's research, but I thought she just had wrote little snippets of her own, personal experiences with the goddamn grubs," Baird commented. "I never heard about her doing any sort of help with a weapons system..."

"Colonel Darrows better not to have fucking sent us out here just because some scientist decided to add Doc Boaz's name on a footnote."

"The bastard's done crazier things," Baird grumbled, looking up at Marcus. He noted the very dark expression on Marcus's face and frowned slightly. He was used to seeing Marcus focused, especially when it came to completing a mission, but there was something more about his expression. Something far more detached and...defeated. And that something bothered Baird on a level he wasn't entirely comfortable admitting to.

"Hey, Marcus," he murmured. "What the hell is wrong with you...? You're actin' like we're already dead."

Looking over at Baird, Marcus studied the blond for a few moments. He tried to keep his expression as deadpan as possible, so as to not give away the decision he had already come to. But Baird wouldn't be so easily deterred, and he leaned a little closer, gently grasping Marcus's chin.

"Marcus...," Baird whispered. "...c'mon, man...talk to me."

"I'm fine, Baird," Marcus finally answered, grasping Baird's hand lightly and pulling it from his face slowly. "Just tryin' to figure a couple things out."

"Yeah, well...try not to look so grim about it," Baird muttered. He leaned up and kissed Marcus gently. He knew that Marcus wouldn't approve of the gesture since they were on a mission, but Baird was trying to figure some way out to break through the wall that Marcus had put up.

So when Marcus pulled Baird closer, deepening the kiss, every internal red flag that Baird had went up. Something was very, very wrong.

"Okay, Marcus," Baird murmured. "...now you're really startin' to freak me out, man. Talk to me."

"It's nothing, Baird," Marcus answered. He needed to avert Baird's attention, so Marcus turned his gaze back to the computers. "Can you pull the information?"

Grinning smugly, Baird turned his attention back to the computer and motioned to a small chip that he had inserted into the main drive of the computer system.

"Already on it," the blond answered proudly. "Should be done shortly. Once it's done I just have to wipe the data out of the system so the grubs can't get their greedy little paws on it. ...that is, if they haven't already."

As if on cue, the computer chimed loudly to alert that the data transfer and completed. Turning his full attention back to the computer, Baird pulled the chip from the system and then safely stored it in one of the pouches on his belt. He then began working away on removing all the information from the computer system.

Marcus took advantage of the opportunity of Baird's momentarily averted attention.

"Report back to Colonel Darrows on what we found," Marcus ordered quietly.

"Yeah, but we're not getting out of here without something to distract those fuglies downstairs," Baird snapped back. "They brought the whole Locust country club. Maybe we were wrong, Sarge. Maybe they are actually museum lovers and this is their goddamn tour group. We try and go down there, we're gonna' get ripped to pieces."

"I know." Standing up, Marcus began to walk away from the computer desk slowly.

Still tapping away quickly at the keyboard, Baird paused when he heard motors starting to power on. The sound of a gunshot made Baird whirl around, and he saw Marcus standing in the elevator, looking solemnly at the now destroyed control panel.

"Marcus?" Baird asked. As the pieces started to click together, Baird began to realize why Marcus had been so detached...and what he was planning to do. "Marcus!"

Shoving the chair aside quickly, Baird rushed to the doors, but they had already shut and the platform had begun to descend. Instinctively hitting his palm against the outside control panel for the elevator, Baird felt the cold claws of panic seize him when the control panel made no response. Slamming the butt of his Lancer against the glass with as much force as he could muster, Baird winced sharply as he felt the impact reverberate through his injured arm.

"Marcus, what the fuck're you doing?" Baird demanded, horrified panic starting to seep into his voice. He already had a sinking suspicion of what Marcus intended to do, and it made his blood go cold.

Looking over his shoulder slightly, Marcus looked over at Baird...and smiled faintly. Baird's heart sank and he hit his fist against the glass furiously.

"Goddammit, you idiot!" Baird yelled, slamming the butt of the Lancer on the glass once more even though it was a futile effort. "Don't you dare go play fuckin' hero on me now!"

But it was far too late.

The platform had descended far enough that Baird doubted Marcus could hear him now. The dull roar of the motors drown out Baird's yelling, and he quickly stepped back from the doors, looking them over. They were made of reinforced, shatterproof glass, and there was no way that Baird could either bash or shoot his way through them.

His mind was now racing, desperately trying to think of anything he could use to pry the doors open. He could jump down the elevator shaft, or at least climb down, that part wouldn't be hard. But he had to stop Marcus before the bastard got himself butchered by the waiting horde of Locust.

"You fuckin'...idiot!" Baird snarled, glancing around the room.

The only thing he found that would fit between the doors was a letter opener on the computer desk.

A frustrated, forced laugh escaped Baird and he ran his hands over his hair in quickly escalating desperation.

"Think, Baird, think," he hissed to himself.

The almost deafening sound of the platform hitting the ground floor caused Baird to stop in mid-step. Marcus had reached the ground floor.

"No, no, no," Baird muttered, running over to the computer system and looking at the monitors for the security system.

The Locust had temporarily left the room, but they had to be close. There was no way they'd have given up the chase that fast. He could see Marcus already setting up a makeshift barricade as carefully as he could. Of course, he wouldn't want to alert the Locust to his location until he was at least prepared as best he could be. But even so, the sheer number of Locust would make short work of the barricade and then-

The security system.

Stopping, Baird looked over the computers quickly, trying to find the monitor that managed the controls for security system's weapon setup. If he could buy Marcus some time, he could get the doors to the elevator either working or at least open. The weapon system may even prove enough to drive the Locust back.

Yeah, and while Baird was dreaming, he'd like a full wrench set with his initials engraved on them...

Finally finding the monitor, Baird clicked it on and began cycling through the commands, trying to find the one to override the system lockout. As he went through the seemingly endless lines of code, he finally found the one he was looking for-

-and then the whole building shuddered and the lights clacked off before flickering back on.

But when the monitors beeped back on, Baird made another frustrated cry and slammed his fists on the desk. The computers were back into lockdown mode. It had taken Baird at least ten minutes to work through the lockdown before. But he didn't have ten minutes.

Marcus didn't have ten minutes.

His mind now in overdrive, Baird looked down at the main console and quickly pried the front panel off. Throwing it aside, Baird quickly slid his goggles over his eyes and lay down on his back, sliding under the console. If he could bypass the main security grid, then he could get the weapon system back up and running with a couple of mouse clicks. Granted, the security system would be shot to hell and the weapon system would be overclocked to the point of possibly burning out, but Baird highly doubted that the previous owner of the system would care.

And if he did, well...Baird had a couple of choice words for him.

Ripping the security grid free from its spot on the inside wall of the console, Baird then began to pull the wires free from it. He then reached to the small utility kit that he had and produced a small, portable soldering tool. As he put the first two wires together and pressed the soldering tool against them, Baird scrunched up his nose slightly at the stench of burning metal.

"Come on, come on," he grumbled through gritted teeth. Bits of molten metal fell down and tinged against Baird's goggles, but he paid it no mind.

The first two wires successfully soldered, Baird paused for only a second to see if he could at least hear the computers starting to power back on. A small wave of relief washed over him as he heard the low hum of power being fed to the console. Turning back to the third and final wire, Baird started to solder them back together.

The entire building seemed to heave and there was a deafening sound of a wall being blasted to bits. The sudden jerk knocked the soldering tool from Baird's hands and he heard it clatter to the exhaust grates that were at least three feet below the console.

"Shit!" he snarled. "Goddamn Locust and their motherfu-"

An unmistakable roar cut Baird short.

Berserker.

They had a goddamn Berserker.

A new sense of dread and desperation hit Baird and he began twisting the wires together as tightly as he could manage. They had soldered together somewhat, but now he was simply praying to whoever could hear him at this point that the connection would be made at this point.

"Come on, start you bitch," Baird pleaded angrily. "Start!"

Miraculously, the computers beeped back in response as they began to boot up. Baird allowed himself to make a quick cheer, but in his haste, he sat up quickly...and promptly hit his head against the inside of the console. Snarling and clutching at his forehead, Baird scooted out from underneath the console. He quickly stood up and looked over the computers. They were booting up, but nowhere near as fast as Baird would like.

...and then he heard Marcus's yell promptly followed by Lancer gunfire.

()

Ducking as bullets pinged against the rubble of the wall, Marcus glanced around quickly. The Berserker had crashed through the wall, but had been in such a frenetic fury that she'd charged two hapless Drones. While the one had been immediately ripped apart, the other had managed to start running from the bellowing monstrosity. ...and it had bought Marcus just enough time to get to cover.

The Locust had swarmed the Defense Display room, and it had only been by sheer luck and a miracle that Marcus had managed to escape the room to the left exit without being mowed down. He had raced out into what looked like a main hall, or rather, the remnants of a main hall, and to the far left corner, he could see an entrance the hallway that he and Baird had used to enter the building.

Finding cover behind a wall of broken timbers, marble, and what had once been a very large display of...something, Marcus rapidly reloaded his Lancer and tried to make out where the Drones were based on sound. He was hoping that he'd managed to draw most of the Locust out to the main hall with him, which would leave Baird facing minimal resistance once he left the computer room.

But now the Drones had him pinned down, and it was only a matter of time before that Berserker came back. And then it was just a matter of either being ripped limb from limb by the Berserker or mowed down by gunfire.

Marcus had to admit, he'd had better ideas in the past.

"Baird, you better be running," Marcus grumbled. But even as he growled the words through gritted teeth, Marcus couldn't help but smile faintly.

Yeah, he could buy Baird enough time.

The air reverberated with the bellow of the Berserker and Marcus realized that she'd either ripped the other Drone to ribbons or had given up the chase. She'd be after him within a matter of minutes...

Firing a short, concentrated burst of gunfire at the closest Drone, Marcus picked up one of the grenades he'd managed to stockpile in the process of creating his small barricade. Tossing it blindly, Marcus grinned grimly when he heard the agonized roar of a Drone. His small victory was immediately dashed, however, when the ground began to rumble.

The Berserker was on her way.

Glancing over the barricade quickly, Marcus only managed a short snarl of surprise before having to throw himself out of the way. The Berserker ripped through the barricade like it was tissue paper, flailing her claws madly. As he struck the ground and darted to cover behind a pillar to avoid being riddled with bullets, Marcus glanced up at the behemoth. Even for a Berserker, she was huge. Her armor seemed to be in excess, and her mottled skin almost seemed to be warped and twisted into a second set of armor. To top it all off, she appeared to be at least a foot, if not more, taller than most of the other Berserkers Marcus had encountered. The goddamn thing was a behemoth.

"...shit," he hissed.

Pivoting quickly, the Berserker seemed to hone in on Marcus. He had no idea how she'd managed to hear him over all the commotion that the rest of the Locust were causing. But she had...and she charged.

Throwing himself out of the way again and into the hallway, Marcus felt the Berserker grab his right ankle, the armor crushing slightly under her grip. She then proceeded to slam Marcus against a nearby wall. The white and cream spiral marble cracked under the sudden impact, and Marcus felt his entire body scream out in protest. It felt like she had just managed to shatter every bone in his body and he collapsed to the ground weakly. Catching himself, he realized that his armor had managed to soak up most of the impact, but he couldn't breath.

Gasping and reaching for his Lancer, which had been knocked from his grip, Marcus looked up at the Berserker, waiting for her to bear down on him and rip him apart.

But she didn't.

She just stood there, growling furiously, spittle dripping from her jaws.

Christ...she was toying with him.

In all his years, Marcus had never seen a Berserker toy with her victim.

It didn't matter by this point. If she wanted to play, then so be it. It would keep her and the rest of the Locust focused on Marcus a little longer.

...and give Baird more time to escape.

When he grabbed his Lancer, the Berserker jerked her head at the metallic clacking noise. She roared and kicked Marcus in the gut, sending him rolling across the floor roughly. Coughing and spitting out a mouthful of blood, Marcus winced and clutched at his side. He pulled his hand away to see his palm was covered with blood. Not good. Struggling to a kneeling position, Marcus took aim at the Berserker.

"Come on, you bitch," he whispered hoarsely.

The Berserker tore towards him again, and Marcus tried to roll out of the way, but his right ankle gave way underneath him, and he collapsed to the floor, only managing to partially get out of the way of the charging beast. She had hunkered down and her lower arm hammered into Marcus's chest, sending him sprawling again.

Marcus made a hoarse, choked groan, rolling onto his side. So far he had been lucky enough that the Berserker had been basically kicking him down the main hallway that he and Baird had used to enter the building. While it meant she had more than enough wall space to beat him against, she also had inadvertently kept him shielded from Locust gunfire.

The Locust may have been hell bent on killing every human on Sera, but they weren't so stupid as to open fire on a Beserker in order to do so. Especially not one this goddamn huge.

The Berserker suddenly stopped again, and she took a step back. A low, guttural, almost purring sound followed and Marcus looked up. His vision was blurred and he was coughing up blood still, but he managed to get back into a kneeling position. He reached for his Lancer, which was lying a few feet away...

...and had his hand crushed under the boot of a very familiar looking Kantus.

"...no...fucking way," Marcus breathed, looking up.

It was the same Kantus that had attacked them at the farmhouse.

The same Kantus that had murdered Doctor Boaz.

The Kantus glowered down at Marcus, then made a short, sharp bark at the Berserker. The Berserker jerked her head in the Kantus's direction, then took a lumbering step back. The Kantus turned his attention back to Marcus, gripping Marcus's throat tightly. He slowly produced a jagged, serrated edge blade, then hoisted Marcus up. The Kantus tilted his head to one side, making a gloating snarl, and began to drag the blade across the scar on Marcus's face.

Snarling, Marcus managed to spat a mix of blood and spit on the Kantus's face, and that was enough. The Kantus reared back, and Marcus put every last ounce of strength into fighting against the Kantus's grip. He managed to free himself enough to stagger back...just as the blade plunged into him.

Baird had managed to avoid most of the Locust by cutting through the Defense Display room and going around. He remembered enough of the layout that he could go around and reach the Main Hall, where he had last seen Marcus running to. Baird just hoped against hope that he would make it in time.

As he rounded the corner, Baird felt his heart stop and his blood freeze over. That same, goddamn Kantus had Marcus by the throat, pinned to the ground...and had plunged what looked to be a small sword into Marcus's chest.

"MARCUS!" Baird called out, his voice a mix of horror, panic, and raw fury.

Focusing his aim on the Kantus, Baird drew up his Lancer and opened fire. While he was aware of the Berserker, he was hardly concerned about her. All he had to do at this point was get that goddamn Kantus the hell away from Marcus. Baird could lure the Berserker away just by causing a racket...

The bullets pinged off the Kantus's armor loudly, but a few actually managed to smack into the beast's face, causing him to stagger back and scowl murderously at Baird.

"How does it feel, you goddamn, motherfuckin' bastard?" Baird shouted challengingly. Hell, by this point, he wanted the Kantus to charge him. Wanted the opportunity to put his chainsaw bayonet straight down and through the goddamn thing's head.

Rolling over slightly, wincing at the feel of the blade jammed into his shoulder, Marcus looked down the hallway weakly to see Baird walking towards the Kantus, the barrel of his Lancer already glowing red-hot. Realizing that the Berserker was still there, Marcus looked over at her, but she was actually...waiting. ...what the hell was with this thing?

"...Baird...goddammit," Marcus coughed. "...run, you asshole."

Either Baird ignored him or didn't hear him, because the blond Gear continued firing at the Kantus until there was the resounding sound of a 'click' as the Lancer ran empty. Seizing the opportunity, the Kantus roared at the Berserker...and she suddenly sprung back to life.

The sight of the giant, hulking monolith of teeth, claws, armor, and rage barreling towards him was just enough to pull Baird out of his fury, and he dove out of the way as the Berserker charged by. Turning to quickly face the Kantus, Baird felt the first gunshot strike him square in the chest. Fortunately, his armor deflected the bullet, but the second bullet tore across his already injured arm.

Realizing that the Kantus was now opening fire on Baird, Marcus gripped the handle of the knife that was buried in his shoulder tightly. Gritting his teeth and bracing for the inevitable agony, he wrenched the blade free with a short, choked gasp of pain...and promptly drove it through the Kantus's right leg.

"...you forgot...something you...fucker," Marcus rasped as the Kantus staggered away, shrieking.

Turning, the Kantus aimed his pistol at Marcus, and the Sergeant let his head rest on the marble floor, half expecting the bullet to finish him. But Baird charged the Kantus and tackled him to the ground with a furious yell. Practically sitting on the Kantus's chest, Baird began angrily punching the beast in the face with every ounce of strength he could muster. Partly because he had started to realize that the Kantus was, somehow, giving orders to the Berserker and that if he could keep the Kantus quiet, then he wouldn't have to worry about the Berserker turning him into a red paste.

But mostly because the Kantus had tried to take from Baird one of the few people that he held dear. The goddamn...thing had tried to take one of the few people in Baird's life worth fighting for.

So he would fight for it.

Fight for it with every fiber of his being.

Every bit of anger and hatred he'd ever harbored towards the Locust, to the world that seemed content on constantly trying to wear him down, thundered through Baird's veins as he brought his fists down on the Kantus's face. The monster's razor maw of teeth cut through his gloves and bloodied his knuckles before shearing through the top of his hands, but Baird never even noticed. By this point he couldn't even muster up the words to curse at the goddamn thing. All he wanted to do was kill it.

But the Kantus managed to garble out a panicked shriek, and while Baird found some grim satisfaction in that he was able to scare the shit out of the bastard, he also realized that the Berserker was soon to be on her way.

Jumping to his feet, Baird rushed over to Marcus, who had started to try and crawl out of the way. His chest tightened at the blood trail that Marcus was leaving, and Baird began to wonder if he was too late.

Goddammit...he had to get them both out of here. Now.

"Get up, Marcus, get up!" Baird said quickly, glancing over his shoulder as the Kantus slowly began to come to. "C'mon! Up and at 'em!"

Throwing Marcus's arm over his shoulders, Baird had to practically drag the Sergeant to his feet, but he managed to get Marcus standing, and he then began to drag Marcus towards a nearby bedroom turned display room.

"There should be...an emergency exit...through...here!" Baird gasped. Marcus was almost dead weight at this point, and Baird found himself fearing that he was doing more damage to Marcus than good.

"...I..told...told you...to run," Marcus wheezed.

"Yeah...fuck you, too!" Baird retorted angrily. "Tryin' to leave my blond ass behind and everything...!"

"...tryin'...to save...your...your blond-"

"Stop talkin'!" Baird cried, starting to panic as Marcus's voice became strained. "Finally, I get to...to tell you...can it, Marcus!"

Even as injured as he was, Marcus managed a low growl of exasperation with Baird's retort. Ignoring it for the moment, Baird dragged Marcus to the emergency exit. Kicking the door open, Baird glanced over his shoulder. He could hear the Kantus shrieking angrily, but Baird could only hope that he had managed to temporarily blind the bastard when he'd tried to punch his face in.

The weapons system had needed a boot up period, but Baird hadn't been willing to wait around for it to boot up. He'd let the system go onto autorun and then sought out Marcus.

He bitterly wished he hadn't taken the long way around...

The Berserker's furious roar soon followed, and Baird quickly shut the emergency exit door behind them and began helping Marcus down the stairs.

"C'mon, Marcus!" Baird urged, feeling the ground beneath their feet start to rumble. "Move, move!"

He hated trying to force Marcus along like this with the current state that the Sergeant was in, but Baird knew they had no choice. If it was just the Kantus they were having to face, Baird would have let Marcus rest while he continued to beat the damn thing's head to a pulp. But now they had to worry about the Berserker, and the most damage Baird could do was to the bitch's ego if he came up with a really sharp retort about her weight and facial structure.

Fortunately, the weapons system suddenly clicked on, and automated turrets that had been dormant and lying behind panels on the wall suddenly whirred to life, and soon the Locust found themselves having to deal with a constant, relentless barrage of automated fire. It also bought Baird and Marcus more time...

As they reached the foot of the staircase, their boots splashed against about the two inches of standing water that had already seeped into the service tunnel. Again Baird found himself practically dragging Marcus along, but he didn't care. He just had to get Marcus to an evac point. Marcus coughed hoarsely, and Baird felt panic seize him again as the Sergeant spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Goddammit, Marcus," Baird whispered, grunting as he hoisted Marcus up a little to keep the Sergeant from collapsing to his knees. "Stay with me...! Just stay with me a little longer!"

"...Baird-"

"Shut up and save your breath," Baird ordered angrily. He didn't know how to deal with this kind of panic. The threat of losing Marcus seemed more and more real with each passing moment, and it only heightened his frenetic state of mind. It wasn't something that Baird was familiar with. He was used to frantic situations, but not being able to keep his thoughts straight so he could formulate a plan of action was something new for Baird.

And he hated it.

As they staggered down the service tunnel, Baird spotted a ladder leading up to a second level. A second level that undoubtedly had another way leading out of this godforsaken place.

Baird swore that if he never saw another museum again, it would be all too soon.

Nearing the ladder, Baird glanced over at Marcus. There was no way he could drag the Sergeant up the ladder in the state that Marcus was in.

"Shit...!" Baird hissed, looking around the service tunnel quickly. He needed some way to help Marcus up to the platform.

"...Baird," Marcus rasped. "...go...!"

"Goddammit, Marcus!" Baird shouted. "I'm not going-"

The jarring noise of concrete crumbling and the sound of metal bars snapping interrupted Baird. Glancing over his shoulder, the blond felt a cold stab in his chest. The wall at the end of the service way tunnel shuddered one more time, the noise of concrete and metal breaking echoing down the tunnel. The very wall that was cracked and already buckling with water leaking out of it.

"Marcus," Baird whispered quickly, grabbing Marcus's hand and forcing it to close around one of the rungs of the ladder.

"Baird...what the...hell're...you-" Marcus gasped. The pain was a constant companion at this point, and there was variation in it. It was as though the pain had seeped through every part of his body and simply taken a death hold on him. He was also vaguely aware that his vision was slowly being clouded over by a dark haze...

"Marcus...hold your breath. And don't let go of this goddamn ladder. Whatever you do...don't let go of the goddamn-"

Baird was once again interrupted by the wall, only this time it was when the entire wall buckled and gave way, a sudden tidal wave of water rushing them. Even in his injured, near unconscious state, Marcus realized what had happened, and he gripped the ladder rung as tightly as he could.

For a few split seconds, it seemed like the tidal wave of concrete, piping, and metal slowed to a crawl...and then promptly picked up a murderous charge towards the two Gears. While gripping a rung of the ladder as tightly as possible with his right hand, Baird practically hugged Marcus to him, trying to shield him as best as possible from the rampaging waters. Within an instant, it felt like a solid wall of concrete had slammed into Baird's back, his armor creaking under the impact. Though he may have mitigated some of the damage that the sudden slam of water, when he staggered and fell against Marcus, the Sergeant's grip on the ladder rung failed.

Panicking, Baird reached out and snagged the gauntlet piece of Marcus's armor, the rushing waters actually aiding him in keeping Marcus from being yanked away. His shoulder jerked painfully, and Baird gritted his teeth to keep from losing precious air. He could still hear the dull, thudding noise of the bullets from the weapons system as they worked to mow down the Locust invaders and the loud, hammering noise of his pulse in his ears.

As the waters struck the wall at the end of the service tunnel, they sloshed backwards viciously, throwing Marcus against Baird. With a choked grunt, Baird barely kept his grip on the ladder rung, his index finger slipping from the metal bar. Clutching Marcus to him, Baird set his boots on the floor of the service tunnel, desperate to find any sort of traction to keep him and the Sergeant from sliding away from the ladder.

The second reverberation of the waters struck them, but by this point, it had lost a lot of momentum, and Baird was able to slowly turn Marcus to him so he could try and help him up the ladder. They didn't have a choice now. They had to get up the ladder or they would drown. When he was facing Marcus, Baird felt his chest seize when he saw that Marcus's eyes were loosely closed, a few bubbles of air escaping his lips.

Shit...no, no, no!

Gripping Marcus's jaw, Baird pressed his lips against Marcus's fiercely, breathing as much air as he could dare into Marcus's mouth and lungs. Pulling back, Baird watched to see if Marcus would come to, dread slowly coiling around his heart. Small clouds of blood were already rising from Marcus's injuries...and were soon followed by bubbles of air from Marcus's mouth. The very air that Baird had desperately tried to force into Marcus's lungs.

His yell of frustration and alarm muffled by the icy, debris-filled waters, Baird yanked free the small combat knife on his belt and began frantically cutting through the clasps and bindings on the chestplate armor that Marcus was wearing. Sawing the blade through the bindings, Baird forced back a cough as he felt his lungs start to burn for air. He could only imagine what Marcus was feeling at this point.

...if Marcus could feel at all.

No, no, no! Not gonna' fuckin' think like that! Keep focused, you fucking jackass!

The blade slipped and sliced across Baird's hand, but he ignored the pain and finished cutting through the clasp. The chestplate slid to the floor of the flooded service tunnel with an echoed thud. Coughing and involuntarily sucking in a mouthful of water, Baird realized he was out of time and twisted the collar of Marcus's shirt in his hand. He didn't have the time or air to cut Marcus free of any more amor.

Setting his boots on the rungs of the ladder, Baird began forcing his way up the ladder. Red and white spots flashed in his vision and it felt like he was tearing every muscle in his arm as he hauled Marcus up the ladder. But he could see the trembling surface of the waters. It was just a tantalizing mere inches away. Just a few more inches and Baird could get lungfuls of sweet, sweet air.

Growling and mustering up a burst of strength, Baird lunged upward, finally breaking through the surface of the waters. Inhaling hoarsely and sharply, the blond coughed and gagged as he pulled Marcus up so that the Sergeant's head was at least above the water. Looking over at Marcus, Baird shook the dark-haired Gear slightly.

"Marcus!" he yelled. "Marcus! Goddammit, man, wake up!"

Marcus's head lolled forward weakly, a dribble of blood and water sliding from his mouth.

"Shit...!" Baird hissed, scrambling up the ladder.

While he managed to climb onto the second level, when Baird tried to haul Marcus up out of the waters, he almost slid back into the water.

"Whoa...!" Baird yelped, quickly putting his hands under Marcus's arms. "Fuck, fuck! C'mon, you bastard!"

Finally, with a snarl of effort and something that probably registered along the lines of a miracle, Baird pulled Marcus free from the cold waters. He lay Marcus down on his back, and Baird quickly felt for a pulse.

...there wasn't one.

"No...!" Baird yelled, quickly squaring Marcus's head. "Marcus! Don't you dare fuckin' do this to me, man! Don't you fuckin' dare!"

Quickly shoving his index and middle fingers into Marcus's mouth to ensure there was no debris possibly clogging Marcus's airway, Baird started chest compressions before almost crushing his lips against Marcus's, forcing mouthfuls of air into Marcus's lungs.

"Marcus...!" Baird called, restarting the chest compressions. "Goddammit, man! You better not fuckin'-you-goddammit!"

Pressing his fingers against Marcus's throat, Baird searched for a pulse...and for a few split seconds, he felt the smallest traces of one. ...before it faded just as quickly.

"Gah! C'mon, you stubborn bastard! You can't quit on me now!" Baird snarled, once again forcing air into Marcus's lungs.

But now the act seemed to be growing more and more futile with every passing second, and Baird could feel his own lungs aching from the effort. His thoughts an absolute wreck at this point, Baird tried another set of chest compression, but when he couldn't find a pulse, a choked, suppressed sob interrupted his attempts to force air into Marcus's lungs.

"...shit...fuck...goddammit, Marcus...you can't fucking...goddammit..." Gritting his teeth and feeling an unfamiliar burn at his eyes, Baird raised a fist and angrily slammed it on Marcus's chest. "Marcus!"

As if on cue, Marcus coughed and sputtered hoarsely. Snapping to attention, Baird quickly rolled the Sergeant onto his uninjured side as Marcus gasped for air, clutching at the concrete floor weakly.

"That's it, Marcus! C'mon, goddammit, breathe!"

Gasping in a choked wheeze, Marcus coughed fiercely, a spatter of blood and water escaping his mouth. Baird held him as steady as he could, but cast a wary glance over his shoulder. So far it sounded like the Locust were still preoccupied, but there was no telling how long that would be.

"...Baird...?" Marcus finally gasped out, weakly setting a hand on the cold concrete. He was vaguely aware that Baird had hauled him out of the waters...somehow.

"...yeah, yeah, man...I'm here," Baird answered quietly, crawling over to Marcus's side. Finally allowing himself to cough, Baird winced and sighed heavily.

Rolling over onto his back, Marcus looked over at Baird, his pale blue eyes half-lidded. He suddenly scowled at Baird and coughed again, spatting out a mouthful of blood and water. Fortunately, this time, it was more water and spittle than blood.

"I told...you...to fucking run...you blond...jackass," the Sergeant wheezed.

First a look of disbelief flashed across his face before Baird reached over and grasped Marcus's face before kissing him quickly, too fearful of depriving Marcus of air. But he kept his face close to Marcus's, his lips brushing against Marcus's as he spoke.

"...fuckin' hell, man...no way I'm followin' that goddamn order."

Sighing and closing his eyes slowly, Marcus relaxed as best he could, trying to ignore the waves of pain that tore across his body in now regular intervals. After a few minutes, he weakly reached up and set his hand on the side of Baird's face, the rough feeling of Baird's five o'clock shadow grazing against his palm. Granting himself a brief moment of rare compassion, Baird pressed his face lightly against Marcus's palm before turning his focus back to the Sergeant.

"...what the fuck were you thinkin', you asshole?" Baird whispered. "Runnin' off and leaving my blond ass like that."

"...you're the...the only one that-" Marcus coughed harshly and Baird leaned back, giving the dark-haired Gear some room. When his coughs subsided, though, Marcus pulled Baird back to him, kissing him before continuing. "...the only one that would actually know...how to explain that...jibberish to Darrows."

"Oh yeah?" Baird challenged quietly. "And how the fuck was I supposed to explain that we were short the legendary Marcus Fenix?"

"...you're the goddamn blond genius...dipshit. ...figured you'd think...of something..," Marcus answered.

Baird stared at Marcus in confusion and disbelief...that is, until Marcus grinned faintly and succeeded in chuckling for a few seconds before coughing again. A short, almost forced laugh escaped Baird and he leaned back again to give Marcus room while shaking his head.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Even I dunno' if I'm that...goddamn good..."

"...the fuck? I give you a chance...to stroke that irritatin' as hell ego of yours...and you've got nothin'?" Marcus wheezed, raising an eyebrow. "...that Berserker hit you...on the head?"

Baird studied Marcus for a few minutes before leaning over suddenly and kissing the Sergeant deeply. Making a muffled grunt of surprise, Marcus relaxed, gripping the back of Baird's head. Something splashed down on his face, and Marcus paused, opening his eyes and tilting his head to the side slightly. Though he instantly regretted the decision as warning jolts of pain shot down his neck, the Sergeant still managed to hold Baird steady enough to study the Corporal's expression.

The blond's eyes were still closed, though, and Marcus froze when he saw the traces of tears on Baird's face.

"...Baird?"

"Fuckin' water, man," Baird growled, shaking his head and snorting slightly. "Got enough goddamn shit in it to make anybody's eyes burn..."

Marcus was silent, but pulled Baird close and let the Corporal lightly rest his forehead against Marcus's. Inhaling sharply, Baird carefully wiped some of the remaining water rivulets from Marcus's face.

"...don't ever do that to me again," he whispered, his voice trembling faintly. "I...goddammit, Marcus, I-"

The lights in the service tunnel suddenly dimmed with the unmistakable sound of power draining from the facility, and Baird sat up quickly, looking around as his senses came back onto high alert.

"Fuck," he hissed. "Weapons system must've finally burned out. Had the piece of shit tin can system overclocked to give those grubs somethin' to think about for a while, but I figured we had more time than this."

"...then let's get the hell outta' here," Marcus rumbled lowly, rolling onto his side with a wince.

"Whoa, whoa..!" Baird stopped. "Fuckin' hell...you don't quit, do you?"

"Can it, Baird," Marcus growled, struggling to his feet.

Making a low grumble of frustration and rolling his eyes, Baird helped Marcus to his feet and then slung the Sergeant's arm over his shoulders.

"We should have some time," Baird explained breathlessly, helping Marcus limp along. "Dumbass grubs're probably still reelin' from getting their asses shot at from every goddamn direction."

"...what about...what about...fuck...the Berserker?" Marcus gasped, glancing over at Baird.

"That bitch is one of a kind, man," Baird answered, shaking his head. "One, she's bigger than any fuckin' Berserker I've ever seen. Two...the goddamn bitch takes orders. I have never seen that. Those things are usually a rampaging shitstorm that kills everything in their path."

"Yeah...I know."

"I know you know," Baird answered, eyeing the emergency exit that they were nearing. The emergency lighting had kicked in enough that he could at least see enough to keep them from falling back in the water. Though he wouldn't admit it, Baird could feel the muscles in his body starting to weaken and beg for reprieve.

It'd have to wait. They still needed to make contact for an evac.

"What I'm sayin' is," Baird continued, "if that fuckin' Kantus is able to give her orders, we've got a whole new threat on our hands. Our main advantage over those blind bitches was the fact that they were, well...blind. If there's a Kantus that can see and give the bitch orders, we've got a whole new problem. Even if it is one Berserker. ...doesn't help it looks like this Berserker has been eatin' her goddamn veggies and hittin' the gym every day."

"...shit," Marcus grumbled, realizing the gravity of the situation. It was like giving a Berserker a set of eyes...

"The only thing I noticed," Baird proceeded, looking around the emergency exit door quickly, "is that if the Kantus ain't givin' her orders, she's practically brain dead. Just stands there droolin' on herself and lookin' dumber than a bag of dogshit."

"Think it's...that one Kantus? ...or can any...Kantus...do it?"

"Here's hoping it's just that one Kantus," Baird answered, shoving the door open with a sound kick. As expected, the alarm didn't sound. It had long since been burned out after probably ringing for hours with nobody to come to answer the alarm.

"...yeah?"

"Yeah," Baird answered with a smug grin, remembering the feel of the Kantus's teeth breaking under his knuckles. "Pretty sure the loud ass bastard is gonna' need a dentist before he starts singin' that irritating song of his."

"...you...you did a number on him," Marcus replied, matching Baird's grin after a hoarse cough.

"Should've fuckin' killed the bastard," Baird growled, helping Marcus limp along. "Sadistic little motherfucker needed his skull punched into goo."

The two found themselves in what appeared to be a bedroom that had been midway through renovation. The bed was still in the center of the room, though it was surrounded by boxes and other, assorted displays and dioramas from past themes.

"Here," Baird said, setting Marcus down on the bed. The mattress creaked but was a welcome relief. "Take a break for a bit. Gotta' see if I can get in touch with the Raven or Control or a goddamn carrier pigeon."

Nodding in reply, Marcus lay back on the bed, sighing heavily. His shoulder that had been stabbed was throbbing rhythmically in agony, and it had rendered his right arm practically useless. His ribs ached sharply with every ragged breath, and his right ankle felt broken or at the least, sprained. To top it all off, Marcus had water in his ears. ...he really hated it when he got water in his ears.

"This is Delta One," Baird stated as loudly as he dared, his fingers almost crushing the tac comm in his ear. "Can anybody hear this...? I repeat, this is Delta One and we need immediate evac!"

His breath pausing momentarily in his chest, Baird grinned in relief when he heard the low static from the tac comm broke.

"We hear you, you blond bastard. Where the hell are you two?" It was Clay.

"We're...fuck if I know," Baird answered. "But Sergeant Fenix is injured. Badly. We need immediate evac. Shit...we needed an evac about ten minutes ago."

"The whole zone is hotter than the underside of Hell," Clay replied. "We need to pinpoint a location to avoid getting shot out of the air like a one-winged duck! Give us a location and we'll get to you."

"...fuckin' hell, man," Baird hissed in frustration. "There's Locust all over the place! The only location we'll be goin' is six feet under if we don't get out of here!"

"...Baird," Marcus muttered, stopping the blond from continuing on his rant.

"Alright, alright," Baird said, holding up a hand in defeat. "Fine...we'll get you a goddamn position."

"Thank you, princess," Clay muttered.

"Fuck you, too," Baird snapped. He then paused and a look of dawning realization grew on his expression. "Shit...! Put rookie on! Rookie! Harris! Private Harris!"

"Ye-yes, sir?" Harris asked, his voice crackling in over the tac comm.

"Need you to guide me through tryin' to patch Marcus up as best I can. He's got a serious stab wound to his shoulder, possible broken ribs, a fucked up ankle, and-"

"...water in my ears," Marcus grumbled, wincing slightly.

"What?" Baird asked in disbelief, glancing over at the Sergeant.

"There's water in my ears, dipshit."

"Uh...is he saying there's water in his ears?" Harris asked.

"Yeah," Baird answered, sounding somewhere between angry and confused. "Pressing matter, you know. Life threatening, even."

"Okay, we'll...we'll, uh, work on that..," Harris stammered slightly. "The first thing we need to take care of is the stab wound. How deep is it?"

Walking over to Marcus quickly, Baird inspected the injury, frowning.

"It's on his shoulder and it's pretty deep, man," Baird replied. "Armor seemed to have kept the blade from goin' straight through, though. Don't think it hit anything vital."

"Okay, that's good," Harris said, his tone going steady. "Then the main thing is going to first staunch the bleeding. Do you have any sort of gauze or fabric?"

Looking around, Baird saw a stack of folded bed sheets at the food of the bed.

"I'm about to," he answered, snatching up one of the sheets. "Got a bedsheet. Will that work?"

"Yeah, it'll do," Harris replied. He cleared his throat before continuing. "Tear or cut it in half lengthways."

"Gimme' two seconds," Baird stated.

Unsheathing his combat knife, Baird tore the sheet into two pieces as instructed. Marcus watched him quietly, working on keeping his breathing as steady as possible. His world had started to spin and threaten to fade in and out of consciousness when they had been walking down the service tunnel, but Marcus had kept quiet. There was no point in aggravating Baird any further, and there hadn't been anything that could really be done...

"Now what?" Baird asked, once again pressing his fingers firmly against the tac comm.

"Wrap one piece around his shoulder and the wound as firmly as you can. Then cross that with the other piece and wrap the other piece around the injury."

"Hold on..."

Marcus was already slowly sitting up with a visible flinch, and Baird began to wrap the bedsheet around the injury, and then the next one as per Harris's instructions. As he pulled the makeshift bandages snug, Marcus grunted shortly in pain, but kept quiet otherwise.

Frowning, Baird sighed and reactivated the tac comm.

"Done."

"Next up is that you need to make a sling," Harris said. "Do you-"

"Look, rookie," Baird snapped, his tone turning acidic. "I don't have time to play goddamn nurse all day! The weapons system of this hellhole is burned out and it's only a matter of time before the grubs get to us."

"If you don't make a sling, every time Sergeant Fenix moves his arm, he's going to tear the injury open again," Harris retorted, his voice surprisingly steeling over. "Your choice, sir. We can move onto the next injury if you want."

"...fuck," Baird hissed. "Alright, dammit, go ahead and tell me what to do."

"Take another bed sheet and then cut a large triangle out of it. It needs to be big enough to make a sling that can be tied around Sergeant Fenix's neck, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Baird grumbled, angrily snatching up another bed sheet and cutting a triangle out of it.

Midway through cutting the triangle out, Baird heard the low, strained shriek of a Kantus. Both he and Marcus looked around quickly, Baird slowly reaching for his Lancer. After a few minutes, there were the low growls and snarls of Locust, but they sounded far enough away that they wouldn't be an immediate threat. Hurriedly tying the sling around Marcus's neck, Baird activated the tac comm again.

"Rookie, we've got grubs movin' around now," Baird growled lowly into the tac comm. "Need to hurry this up, dammit!"

"Alright, alright," Harris said, his tone still staying surprisingly level. "You're going to need to keep from jarring Sergeant Fenix to avoid further damage to his ribs. If you have something strong enough, you can make a quick splint for his ankle."

Looking around quickly, Baird snatched up a broken chair leg and looked over at Marcus.

"Gotta' make a splint and then we gotta' get the hell outta' here," Baird explained, holding up the chair leg.

"Screw the splint," Marcus snarled, shoving himself to his feet and gritting his teeth against the bites of pain in his sides. "Let's just get outta' this damn grubfest."

Frowning, Baird started to argue, but when he heard the Kantus shriek again, he tossed the chair leg aside and quickly went back to assisting Marcus in walking. Marcus made an irritated grunt, but Baird snorted derisively in response.

"We need to get outta' here," Baird said, cautiously kicking open the bedroom door. "You're just gonna' have to deal with me invading your personal bubble for a bit, man."

Grumbling under his breath, Marcus limped along. The stabbing pain in his ankle came back with a vengeance, and Marcus momentarily regretted having declined the splint. But as the roars from the Locust began to draw closer, Marcus forced back the pain and worked on redoubling his efforts to limp faster.

"Shit," he muttered. "...goddamn grubs are worse than a tax collector."

Grinning grimly, Baird nodded and looked around. They were in another hallway, but it looked like it was from a past theme that had been in mid-renovation when the museum had been abandoned. There were thick coats of dust over all the dioramas, and more of those ridiculous, red-velvet covered ropes to mockingly bar people from entering the area.

"Any idea...where...where we are?" Marcus asked, glancing over at Baird. "Looks like...the...left wing."

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinkin'," Baird replied, looking around the hallway still. "If we can get to the playing field in the back, we may be able to get an evac out of this shit-hole."

Pressing his fingers against the tac comm in his ear, Baird worked to keep his voice low.

"This is Delta One. Come in."

"Hear you, Delta One," Clay answered. "You got us an evac point?"

"Off by the left wing there should be an old playing field. You seein' this?"

Baird could hear Clay yelling orders to the Raven pilot, and after a few minutes, Clay's voice came through clearly.

"We see it, you blond bastard. We're circling pretty high and there's grubs all over the place, but I'm bustin' out the welcome wagon on their sorry asses," Clay declared happily. "You give us the signal when you can haul ass and we'll be waiting."

"...whee," Harris followed up in a monotone. "Just keep your head down, sir! Golden Rule of the Gears, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, rookie," Baird snapped back. "Thank you for that little after-school special."

Though the hallway was dark, the emergency lighting had still remained on enough that Baird could guide Marcus around the debris that littered the hallway. If he recalled correctly, they should be nearing the doorway to the playing field shortly. The Locust were now roaring in full force, and both Gears could hear them tearing through the museum.

They were hunting for Marcus and Baird...

So far, they still sounded far enough away that Baird thought they may be able to make it to the doorway. But he could also hear that the Locust were fast closing the gap...and by the sound of it, they were breaking through walls in order to do so.

"C'mon, man," Baird panted. "...almost there."

"That's what you...said...an hour ago," Marcus grumbled.

"Hasn't been that long, asshole."

Turning right at the end of the hallway, Baird saw the shattered, mangled remains of the two sliding glass doors that led out into the playing field.

"Let's go!" Marcus snarled, shoving back the pain to double his pace.

Baird stumbled slightly at the sudden burst of speed, then quickly kept pace with Marcus, helping the Sergeant along. The broken shards of glass crunched underneath their boots, and Baird glanced over his shoulder. The walls were starting to quake under the abuse from the Locust, and now it was a matter of minutes before they'd break through.

And neither Baird nor Marcus, especially Marcus, were in any state to fight Locust.

Hell, at this point, Baird didn't think it was safe for Marcus to fight anything stronger than a polio-stricken gnat.

"This is Delta One!" Baird shouted into his tac comm. "We're coming up to the doors of the playing field! You better be waitin' on hand and knee for us and better to have saved us the good seats in that Raven!"

"Just get your blond ass over here, princess!" Clay retorted. "And you'd better get Sergeant Fenix here in one piece."

Cautiously stepping over the twisted metal pieces and piles of broken glass, Baird and Marcus limped out into the dim sunlight. Even though thick clouds concealed the Sun itself, the light was almost blinding after their time in the darkened museum.

Slowly descending, the Raven touched down on the ground and sent swirls of thick dust clouds spiraling upwards as its rotors agitated the air around them. Clay was already at the mounted machine gun, and Harris had his Lancer at the ready. When he saw Baird and Marcus, he began to wave them over frantically.

"Almost there, Marcus," Baird whispered. "Just a bit farther and we're gonna' be-"

A very familiar roar rattled the air, and both Gears felt their insides turn to icewater. Even Clay and Harris seemed slightly confused by the noise, but immediately Clay refocused and firmed his grip on the machine gun handles.

The Berserker was back.

"Run, asshole! Run!" Baird commanded.

Though he was practically dragging Marcus along, as Baird made it halfway to the Raven, Harris hopped out of the helicopter and met the two Gears. He quickly grasped Marcus's side as carefully but firmly as possible, helping the Sergeant to move forward faster.

"Don't hate me, sir," Harris muttered quietly, noting the grunt of discomfort Marcus made at being touched. "...and I don't have cooties."

Marcus started to say something in response, but when the brick wall of the museum that faced the playing field started to shudder, the Sergeant fell silent.

Bricks, rock, and assorted debris flew into the air like makeshift shrapnel as the Berserker exploded out of the building. A froth had formed around her teeth-laden jaws, and her clouded over, blind eyes were squinted murderously as she clawed viciously at the air.

"Holy shit!" Harris screamed. "What the hell is that!?"

"A good reason to shut the fuck up and run like hell, dipshit!" Baird shouted.

When they reached the Raven, Harris and Baird helped Marcus onto the waiting stretcher, while Baird scrambled into the nearest seat of the Raven and then took aim at the Berserker with his Lancer. He could see Locust milling around behind her, but they weren't quite brave enough to race past the bitch. Harris was already looking over Marcus's injuries, but he still looked over fearfully at the raging Locust female.

Gritting his teeth, Clay opened fire on the Berserker. The bullets pinged and whizzed harmlessly off her armor, but it was enough to momentarily disorient her. ...at least...it was, until a Kantus suddenly darted around her, his face bloodied and broken. Clay stared in a split second of disbelief as the Kantus shouted something at the Berserker, and then the hulking behemoth turned her sights squarely on Clay and the Raven.

"Up!" Clay shouted to the pilot. "Up, up, up! Get this goddamn thing airborne!"

The Raven lurched forward as the pilot began to wildly try to get the helicopter up into the air. The Berserker staggered slightly when one of the rotors clipped one of the spikes on her head, but she then took a swipe, her talons reaching out at Clay.

The Berserker's claws caught in the barrel of the machine gun, and the metal began to twist and shriek under the sudden force. The Raven tilted over dangerously, and both Baird and Harris held Marcus steady while gripping at the seats to avoid being thrown out of the helicopter.

The Locust had now swarmed out of the museum, and bullets began to whiz through the air and cracked against the Raven's armor. Scrambling over, Baird tried to shield Marcus as best he could, glaring over his shoulder at the horde of Locust. Again, though, the Berserker was inadvertently providing cover from most of the bullets, and Baird could hear the bullets pattering harmlessly against her armor.

"Shit not again!" Clay cried, grabbing the base of the mounted machine gun.

"We're not pickin' up ass ugly hitch hikers, you bitch!" Baird snarled.

The Berserker tugged at the machine gun, causing the Raven to rock wildly. The pilot was yelling a stream of almost unintelligible curses as he fought to keep the helicopter from falling over completely on its side. If it did that, the rotors would hit the mass of armor and muscle and they'd be dead...or worse. A low, guttural roar, almost a depraved chuckle, rolled from the Berserker's maw, and she pulled at the machine gun again, the sound of the Raven's engine groaning in struggle.

Looking over, Harris snatched up the fire extinguisher that was mandatory for all Ravens, and yanked the pin free. The sudden blast of fire suppressant struck the Berserker square in the face, and she snarled in confusion before promptly starting to choke as she fell back slightly.

It was enough.

The Raven pilot swerved the helicopter around, circling the Berserker as the Raven began to gain more altitude. Another, angry snarl from the Kantus made the Berserker regain her focus and the Locust began to take aim at the pilot of the Raven. The Berserker lunged for the helicopter, but the pilot jerked the Raven off to the side, and the Berserker's talons brushed by the helicopter futilely. As the Raven drew higher into the air, the Locust fire became less and less of a threat, and once the helicopter broke up into the clouds, a much needed sense of calm began to slowly wash over the occupants of the Raven.

"...shit...holy...holy shit," Clay breathed, still holding onto the base of the machine gun. "...yeah...if we never do that again...I'll be good."

His eyes still wide, Harris was clinging to the fire extinguisher. He then looked at it and made a short, nervous laugh.

"Bitches can't stand the fire or the fire suppressant, apparently!" he laughed weakly.

"Yeah, bet you can give the makers of that thing a testimonial like they wouldn't goddamn believe," Baird muttered, grinning slightly. He was still hunched over Marcus, and he knew there had been a couple bullets that had hammered into his armor. But judging by the lack of sharp pain, Baird wasn't shot. He glanced down at Marcus, who seemed to be teetering back on the brink of unconsciousness.

"...hey, Sarge?" Baird asked quietly. Behind him, he could hear Clay and Harris swapping testimonial tagline ideas. "Marcus?"

"...next time...we're takin' a goddamn Centaur," Marcus muttered.

()

Weeks later, Marcus was slowly walking around the base, his right ankle had been severely sprained, and it was still wrapped tightly in bandages to hold it steady, but after two weeks of being bedridden, Marcus had insisted on being released from the med ward. There was only so long he could go before not doing anything started to grate on his nerves and fray them.

Finding himself walking to the garage, Marcus made a short, slightly humored snort at the sight of the damaged Raven, the very helicopter that they'd taken to and from the museum, sitting in the large bay of the garage that was reserved for just such aircraft. As expected, Baird was there, working on the mounted machine gun. He had succeeded in removing the damaged gun and was now preparing the new base for the new mounted machine gun. The blond was knelt down slightly as he worked on setting the metal circle of the machine gun base.

Walking over slowly to Baird, Marcus realized that the blond was completely focused on the task at hand, and probably wouldn't notice if the whole garage crashed down around his ears. With a short sigh, Baird stood up slowly, his back still to Marcus, as he rocked his head from side to side to destress the muscles in his neck. Seizing the opportunity, Marcus wrapped his uninjured arm around Baird's waist and forcibly pulled the blond against him.

Baird made a surprised snarl and tensed slightly, but almost immediately recognizing Marcus, he relaxed and sighed heavily. He leaned back against the Sergeant lightly, resting his hand on Marcus's forearm.

"You just enjoy scarin' the shit outta' me, don't you, man?" Baird grumbled.

"You complainin'?" Marcus rumbled.

"...nah."

"That's what I thought."

Breathing out slowly, Marcus kissed the side of Baird's neck, eliciting a low purr of contentedness from the blond. Reaching up, Baird gently caressed the side of Marcus's face. He still had a bandage around his hand from where he'd accidentally sliced his hand, but the wound was almost completely healed.

"Marcus?"

"Hrm?" The Sergeant asked, nuzzling the side of Baird's neck slowly.

"...don't ever do that to me again, man. ...fuck, if you haven't figured it out by now...I ain't going anywhere. Sure as hell ain't leaving you."

Pausing, Marcus sighed and then shook his head slightly.

"You should know that you can't promise that, Baird," Marcus muttered. His voice sounded suddenly very exhausted, and Baird frowned. He knew that tone, and though it was not a tone that Marcus allowed himself to take very often, the tone spoke volumes.

"Yeah, but I'm almost as stubborn as you are," Baird chuckled. "And I've already made up my mind."

Marcus made a low, slightly frustrated growl, but pulled Baird against him a little firmer, as if he could somehow will Baird's impossible promise into existence.

How many people had he lost? How many Gears had he seen ruthlessly cut down? How many civilians had he seen butchered? And each time, Death seemed to draw closer and closer to those that Marcus was concerned most about. Those he wanted to protect above all else.

And it seemed that no matter how much Marcus tried, no matter how hard he fought, Death always found a way to catch him off guard. And for that temporary lapse in vigilance, somebody else would pay the ultimate price. Death had been striking close enough that Baird...

A low, angry and defeated snarl rumbled from the back of Marcus's throat, and he heard Baird chuckle lowly.

"Find a nerve, did I?" the blond inquired.

"...jackass," Marcus grumbled.

"I know I am," Baird answered cockily. He then turned slowly, allowing Marcus to keep his arm firmly wrapped around Baird's waist. Grasping Marcus's face gently, Baird looked up at the Sergeant for a few moments before kissing him deeply. A low sigh from Marcus hummed against Baird's lips, and the blond chuckled softly before pulling back.

Marcus gave Baird a steady, firm look, but Baird raised an eyebrow and grinned knowingly.

"Don't believe me, huh?"

"...I can't."

Sighing but maintaining his grin, Baird kissed Marcus with surprising softness.

"Sure you can," Baird answered. "Besides, somebody's gotta' stick around to make sure you don't get crushed with that weight of the world you're carrying on your shoulders."

Though the Sergeant said nothing, he set his forehead against Baird's lightly, relaxing and leaning against the blond. Baird held steady, and for a few brief moments, it felt as though nothing else in the world mattered.