Halo: Indelible Past/Chapter Thirty-Three

Venter stumbled through the hangar doors. He'd sprinted through half a dozen halls and nearly as many firefights, all the while imagining that David Kahn was drawing a bead on him from behind. But as he leaned against the wall to catch his breath, it seemed as if he had evaded that particular bogeyman.

Look's like time's finally catching up to that son of a bitch, he thought without a shred of sympathy. He would never forgive that two-faced bastard for stealing Nimue after all the pains he had put into creating her.

''All his sales pitches about never backing out of a contract and the one time he goes back on that I'm the one who gets screwed. What a piece of shit.''

Still out of breath, Venter staggered further into the hangar. A lone Pelican was being prepped by its flight crew in the center of the open pad. From the looks of things, they wouldn't be waiting much longer. The crew chief looked over and saw him approach.

"Hey boss!" the chief called. "You made it!"

"Yeah," Venter grunted. "Somehow."

The chief frowned and looked back at the door. "Wasn't Peter with you?"

Venter scowled and pulled himself up into the dropship's troop bay. "He was. Guess he didn't make it."

That was a damn shame, probably the worse loss Venter was taking today. He'd always regretted losing Stray all those years ago, and he'd decided a while back that Peter was a pretty good reflection of how things would have been if the kid had stuck with him. Hope Peter doesn't show up in fifteen years looking for my head.

He'd also be losing Diana with Peter. Too bad, but it wasn't as if he'd even known he had her back until a few days ago. All told, he counted himself lucky to be walking away from this clusterfuck at all.

The crew chief climbed in after him, followed by an ashen-faced soldier. As the chief headed back into cockpit, the soldier slumped down beside Venter. Without saying a word, he hugged his rifle close to his chest and stared straight ahead. From the looks of things, they wouldn't be taking on any more passengers.

Venter leaned back and closed his eyes. A crazy end to a crazy job. He'd have to keep a low profile for a few years now. The UNSC would be after him now as well as the Sangheili, and then there was whoever had hired Kahn to take him out. All told, the Syndicate couldn't be trusted to cover for him anymore. He'd have to head back to whatever was left of the URF.

The thought made Venter smile. The insurrection was a mess, but a guy like him could whip it back into shape. The cause just needed a new leader, and the man who had brought chaos to Sanghelios, not to mention eluded a Spartan team and David Kahn at the same time, might very well be the right candidate.

"OK," the chief announced over the intercom as the Pelican's engines hummed to life. "I'm taking us out. Hold onto something folks, 'cause it's going to be a bumpy ride up into orbit--"

"No!"

Venter and the soldier turned to see a lone figure sprinting across the floor. Venter didn't even need to see the bloodstained jumpsuit or the bandaged eye to know exactly who it was.

"Stray," he snarled. What the hell is up with this kid?

"Don't just sit there," he barked at the soldier. "Shoot him!"

They both scrambled up. Venter raised his pistol while the soldier took unsteady aim with his rifle. Stray just whipped up a submachine gun and sprayed wildly into the troop bay.

Venter jerked back, but the soldier next to him wasn't so lucky. He cried out and fell to the bay floor, clutching his neck as blood streamed through his fingers.

"Get us out of here!" he screamed back at the cockpit. He stretched out his hand for the dying soldier's assault rifle as the Pelican lurched up off the floor and drifted towards the small opening in the wall. In a moment, there would be nothing Stray could do but watch them sail away.

The kid's legs pounded against the ground as he sped up. The submachine gun clattered to the floor as he dropped it, pumping his arms wildly back and forth. Like a racer on the home stretch, he sprinted for the departing Pelican.

Venter yanked the rifle up and fired, but the moving dropship threw his shots wide. He caught one last glimpse of Stray's burning eye before the kid drew level and vanished under the troop bay's edge.

A moment later, an organic and prosthetic hand each came up out of nowhere and seized hold of the edge. Venter slammed the rifle butt down on the organic hand, knocking its hold away, but the prosthetic hand remained firmly clamped around the ledge.

With a scream of effort that could be heard over even the Pelican's gusting engines, Stray swung himself up and over into the troop bay. His body collided with Venter, sending them sprawling further into the dropship. Venter felt the rifle leave his hands and reached instead for the knife on his combat vest. Stray's metal hand clamped onto his face as the kid kicked and gouged wherever he could.

The floor beneath them tilted and began to give way as the Pelican began gaining altitude. Venter rolled away from his attacker and grabbed hold of a seat for dear life. On the other side of the bay, Stray had done the same. The dead soldier's body caught on one of the handholds beside the kid and hung beside him like a macabre puppet.

Venter gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the seat as the Pelican soared through Sanghelios's sky.