Halo: Indelible Past/Chapter Twenty-Three

Then

Dust rose up from the unpaved street as the sun beat down on what had once been a thriving frontier town. But what had once served as the town's main hall and communications post now hosted a small contingent of insurrectionist fighters. Machine guns and sandbag positions had been erected on the roof and windows, manned by rebels who slumped inside whatever shade they could find while lazily scanning the skies for UNSC recon drones.

They didn't have much to worry about. The rebellion had already come and gone from this particular part of Mamore, though it had stayed long enough to kill just about everyone who had called this town home. A few of their corpses had still been in the streets when the insurrectionists' small convoy had rolled in; shot down by a Marine patrol, the rebels had decided as they shoveled dirt over the ditch they had found to serve as a communal grave for the desiccated bodies of men, women, and children.

A few of the rebels not on guard or patrol duty lounged on the steps of the co-opted hall laughing and sharing cigarets as they watched a small group of children, boys and girls of all ages, getting a lesson in knife-fighting from their commander.

Redmond Venter smiled, twirling a combat knife expertly through his fingers as he beckoned for his opponent to attack.

A thin, scraggly boy of fourteen crouched low, angling his own knife as he looked for an opening. He was the oldest of the children, with a dirty face and sunken eyes that glared out at the hot, dusty world around him with intense hostility. His ragged clothes hung limply from his body. Drops of sweat cut tracks in the grime on his cheeks, and his unkempt dark hair was matted down with salty perspiration.

"C'mon Stray!" Venter called, jabbing impatiently at the air with his knife. "Show the little ones how it's done!"

The boy called Stray took a step forward, knife down at his side as if he were still deciding whether or not to use it. He rocked back on his heels, cocked his head, then lunged at Venter with sudden ferocity.

The insurrectionist laughed, easily sidestepping the sweeping cut at his midriff. But in an instant the boy changed the direction of the blade, stabbing upward at the face.

This time, as he dodged to the side Venter swung in with his own knife. He caught the oncoming blade with the edge of his own, twisting it in towards himself before yanking roughly upwards. The knife flew from the boy's hands just as Venter's legs came in to kick his feet out from under him. The boy landed in the dirt with a painful thump.

Venter shook his head, letting out another bark of laughter. "You're getting faster, Stray," he acknowledged, waving his knife affectionately at the boy as he pushed himself to his feet. "But you still don't hold the knife tight enough. You gotta feel the stab, really grit your teeth and punch it into me if you ever want to get good with it."

He smiled at the boy, who grunted and wiped his moist forehead wearily. "But you knew to go for the neck. That's good. Most UNSC goons aren't armored there. You know how to kill leathernecks, that's for damn sure."

Some of the other children laughed as Stray brushed himself off, but the boy hardly even glanced in their direction. He just looked Venter square in the eye and nodded. "Thanks, boss."

Venter gave him a toothy grin. "You'll turn out all right Stray, no doubt about it."

He shifted his knife hold and tossed Stray's own knife back to him. "Now, let's go through that again."

Now