Night at the Club

January 4, 2553, the Human-Covenant War is over and Humanity can breathe again knowing that they face extinction no longer. Staff Sergeant Corin Davis, a longtime veteran of the war and ODST, is on his way home to Alton, Virginia, to see his family. On the way, he gets sidetracked and spends the night drinking in a popular nightclub in Alexandria, Virginia.

The music was deafening and the lights disorienting, a layer of smoke floated over the floor. This was the last place Corin Davis thought he'd wind up in and as he downed another shot of some oddly colored drink from some planet he'd never heard of, he wondered why he had decided to wander into the nightclub at all. Club Vertigo was appropriately named, as he was already starting to feel sick, the smoke wafting from the floor, filling his lungs with each breath. The pounding, rhythmic base of the electronic music made it feel as if someone had taken a set of power tools to his head. He had tried to alleviate the pain by heading to the bar, only to be suckered into trying a multitude of exotic beverages by the cute bartender, which wound up exasperating his symptoms. After his most recent drink, he'd lost count of how many, he barely even recognized the voice behind him and, were it not for the shrill pitch grating against his ears, he probably would have ignored it altogether.

"Hey, quit hogging the damn bar, asshole!"

Corin glanced behind him ever so slightly, just enough to let whoever it was know that he heard them, before turning back to his drink, finishing it off. Suddenly, a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around in the bar stool. In front of him stood a twenty something year old kid with light brown hair, thick brimmed glasses that looked just as uncomfortable as they did impractical, and a striped scarf of all things. The kid scowled as Corin just stared at him.

"Come on, you've had enough to drink, grandpa. Let her worry about the rest of us now."

Corin simply blinked once in response before turning himself back around, only to be stopped by the kid again who jutted his thumb away from the bar, "Hey, didn't you hear me? Fuck off."

The bartender looked over to the kid, "Hey, leave the guy alone, don't you know he's an Mar-."

He cut her off, "Shut up, bitch. If this guy wants to get his ass kicked over a drink, just let hi-."

Just as quickly as he had interrupted the bartender, Corin had stood up from the stool, swiping one of his feet out from under him and, with a hand placed behind his head, slammed the kid's face into the bar. As he slumped down onto the floor, two imposing looking men with "SECURITY" written on their shirts walked over. Had they seen the Helljumper symbol emblazoned on his arm like the bartender had, they may have thought twice before swinging on him. As the first guard threw a punch, he grabbed the fist and directed it away. Before the guard could respond, Corin had him by the wrist and delivered a devastating blow to the man's elbow, inverting it with a sickening crunch. As the man cried out in pain, Corin grabbed the man's head and pulled down, his knee meeting it in the middle, knocking him unconscious.

As he turned his attention to the second guard, he saw that he had liberated a bar stool from its resting place and was holding it like a bat. If that connected, it would hurt like Hell. Luckily for him, the man's posture was sloppy and it was easy enough to disarm him and use it against the guard, smashing him in the face with it and dropping him to the floor. He grinned as he surveyed the scene and was preparing to sit back down when he heard another voice, this one much older than the last.

"Excuse me."

"Look, I ain't in the mood for another fight."

As he turned around, he was surprised by who he saw; a dark skinned man in a finely tailored suit and tie, "Sergeant Davis, I believe I have something that might interest you."