He sighed as she reported that she didn't have an exact location for the SOS. The big blue and gold Spartan 2 listened as his new partner gave him a pep-talk. He appreciated it more than he could say. So, he just nodded as she told him to get some rest and that she'd take first watch "You're right. I'm not much use to anybody if I can't shoot straight" he sighed, accepting that for the moment that Private Fry and Patric would have to wait. Looking up to her as she handed him the canteen of water, he reached out and took it from her waiting hand "Thanks. For the canteen, and the pep-talk..." he paused a moment, unsure if next words would carry the sincerity that he felt "I appreciate it." He removed his damaged blue Scout helmet and turned it over in his hands to look at the cracked gold visor. Gladiator sighed again and set in his lap, he barely recognized the reflection in the visor. Bags under his exhausted looking blue eyes, his features were still handsome but, less so because of how pale he was. He raised the canteen to his pale lips and took slow sips from the container.<br/><br/>The cold temperature of the liquid within made him cough, he covered his mouth quickly and wiped his mouth. He grimaced in pain, his ribs were still sore, as was everything else but, he started sipping at the canteen again a moment later. The cold liquid was refreshing and very very welcome. Gladiator stopped a few moments later, and felt the weight of the canteen, comparing it to how it had felt when it was full. He figured that he'd probably drank a quarter of what was in there, leaving more than half in reserve for later. The Spartan replaced the canteen's top and leaned back against the seat, forcing himself to relax.<br/><br/>He raised his head a moment later "Wake me the moment anything happens, and I mean<em>anything</em>, alright?" When he got a nod from her in reply, he leaned his head back against the seat and fell instantly to sleep. Almost immediately dreams set in. His mind flashed him images of Harvest, battling the Covenant there, the burning fields as Covenant Cruisers blasted the earth with their plasma cannons, himself kneeling in front of a burned tree, the dead couple leaning against it. His own dead eyes looking back at him. His 'original' holding hands with the love of his life. Then his dreams drifted into more memories. This time though, it was memories of Reach. He'd been assigned there immediately after the Battle of Harvest. He was to get his own customized armor and rearm himself once he got there, as his nickname of Gladiator had already gotten around. His mind flashed back to a memory of Harvest, back before he found out by accident that he, like every other Spartan, was a clone.<br/><br/>It had been raining the day he'd come into his nickname. The Covenant had glassed a whole in the earth, the edges of which made a unnatural arena like area. During the battle, he'd been separated from his squad. An Elite in white and gold armor had brandished an Energy Blade that crackled and sparked with each rain drop that hit it's surface. The squid face had charged at him, and he'd managed to take down it's shields before it swung it's arm in an arch, hoping to split him into two equal parts, and if he hadn't had sidestepped to avoid the blow, that's just what would've happened. Fortunately for him, the Elite missed. Gladiator had bounced back on the balls of his feet and struck out with his fist, which connected with the Elite's four pronged jaw. The Elite turned to look at him with those evil yellow orange eyes, and he swore the damn thing had smiled. Their fight was long and exhausting, and they had both eventually ended up in the still burning crater. He remembered gutting the Elite with his own Energy Blade and the feeling of victory and satisfaction he'd got from it. Then he'd looked up to see more Elites surrounding the crater. Evil smiles on every damned one of them, as if the fight for survival was suddenly a game. They had thought that sending two Elites against him would be enough at first, and when he'd dispatched those, they sent more. When Ares, Hunter, Kunai, and Vladicus had finally shown up, driving or killing off the spectators, he'd been fighting five Elites. Three of them had engaged him freely, one of which wielded two Covenant Energy Blades, while two others held to the outskirts of the fighting, prodding the fight this way and that so that it kept in the middle of the crater. They'd been having fun.<br/><br/>He remembered provoking the dual wielding Elite, and grabbing his arms at the wrists as the alien brought both hands up to chop his head off. Then twisting the alien's wrists forcefully at the same time, breaking the bones and twisting away with two Energy Swords in his hands. It had been really hard to get used to the feeling of wielding air, as the energy portion of the blades held little, if any weight, especially since he was in a combat situation. He'd overestimated his own strength and almost killed himself a time or two.<br/>Eventually, five Elites dwindled down to 4, and four to three. And then there'd been none. More Elites rushed him then, growling their war cries and vying for blood. Ares though, had used his MK 5 Rocket Launcher and blown the group to hell, while he'd ducked into his recharged Armor Lock. When he had reached the top of the crater, Ares was there, pulling him up, that shady skull imprint on his black visor glowing eerily in the reflection of the fires around them.<br/><br/>He remembered the jovial words that started the nickname perfectly "<em>Well, well! Looks like we got ourselves a <strong>Gladiator!</strong> Heh heh.</em>"<br/>Despite all the fighting, all the death, Harvest, his home, had been lost.<br/><br/>A week later on Reach, he dawned his customized blue and gold armor, with the gold visored Scout helmet, only to be called to defend it as well.<br/><br/>Despite the vivid dreams, Gladiator remained asleep, only muttering a few insensible words every now and then, like the names of his old squad members. Ares, Hunter, Kunai, and Vladicus.<br/><br/>