<strong>Tech Bay Four<br/>UNSC Flagship Hercules<br/></strong><br/><br/>The screen in front of the technician beeped, causing Matt Fry to surface from the pages of the most recent issue of Babes & Bullets. He blinked once then stared at the message that flashed across the screen.<br/><br/>>>UNSC COMMUNICATION/COMSEC/ENG/FRY, MATTHEW A/PFC>>BURST MODE/LOW ENCRYPTION>><br/><br/>Frowning, the UNSC technician hit the display key on the console in front of him. "Aw man," Private Fry said as he read the incoming work order. "Those guys creep me out."<br/><br/>"Who freaks you out?"<br/><br/>The query originated from the other side of the small bay where another technician was putting some of the new MJOLNIR armor through a heat shield test. The technician had a shock of red hair and a liberal sprinkling of freckles which was why most of the techs called him 'Ginger' even though his name was Glenn Richards.<br/><br/>"<em>Creeps</em>me out," Matt answered. "Those ODSTs..they're all a little crazy."<br/><br/>"Of course they are, wouldn't you have to be a little crazy to be dropped a few thousand feet through the atmosphere in a metal pod which slams into the ground with enough force to squash your bones to powder," Ginger pointed out. "No sane person would stand for that."<br/><br/>"I guess, but the last time I was over there they had me playing this card game which seemed to be a cross between hearts and Russian roulette," Fry complained as he picked up his toolbelt. "Not to mention I lost a month's pay to them and had to put up with their stupid jokes about..well techs. Apparently anyone who isn't an ODST is less than perfect. Hell, they even think they're better than Spartans."<br/><br/>"Maybe in their dreams. You better get a move on though, don't want them annoyed with you when you get there," PFC Richards suggested.<br/><br/>"No kidding," Matt said before he exited the bay. "If I'm not back in two hours..come find me."<br/><br/><strong>Launch Deck<br/>ODST SOEIV Pod Bravo Victor Six</strong><br/><br/>"Come on you little son of a bitc.." Fry cursed as he pulled another set of wires from the depths beneath the control panel inside the pod. His haste was due to the ODST whose pod he was repairing. The female ODST had promised to make a man out of him if he repaired her pod in a timely fashion. Fry had told the ODST that he was a marine technician and had been made a man the day he graduated from boot. This answer got plenty of laughs and led to the woman challenging him to an impromptu wrestling match which ended with her pinning him. She’d also felt him up and might have gone farther if the ship had not gone on alert and her and her fellow troopers had been called away to a briefing.<br/><br/>Fry had cringed when the female ODST had given him a sloppy kiss and a smack on the ass, promising to return and ‘thank him properly’ once he was finished with her pod. It was for this reason that Private Fry rushed to finish the repairs, he wanted to get the hell out of there before the ODSTs returned. The sound of yelling and war whoops outside of the pod told Fry he was too late.<br/><br/>“Hey Techie Marine, you still in my pod?” Lance Corporal Grace Takomi said as she banged on the outside of the hatch with her fist. “Move over then because I’m coming inside..” She grinned and tried the latch but found the pod locked. All around her other ODSTs were climbing in their pods getting ready for their mission drop. “You need to vacate the pod, Techie,” she said, “Or be prepared to go on your first combat mission.”<br/><br/><em>Mission?!</em>That was all he needed to hear. Matt attempted to open the pod but the controls wouldn’t respond.<em>Oh hell.</em>Now the warning lights were flaring and the klaxons blared. The ODST became frantic, pounding on the pod before running off to the side.<br/><br/>Matt’s fingers flew through the wiring, selecting the correct systems as he reached for the pliers on his tool belt and...the plating beneath the pod opened up to reveal space.<br/><br/>“Nooooooooo!” Matt yelled as tried to open the pod. There was a burst of static over his communications link and he had the common sense to strap himself in before PFC Fry found himself rushing towards the planet below.<em>Earth..I’ll finally get some leave.</em>The thought was so absurd he had to laugh. Of course it would be crawling with Covenant now.<em>Most of whom will have me for breakfa..</em>The SOEIV pod began to shudder while the console blinked red and the computer called for his attention. Fry punched a few buttons and was rewarded by the computer spazzing out then firing the anti-grav thrusters.<br/><br/>“Yeah this is really complicated, I don’t see how ODSTs perform under such pressure,” Fry said in a slightly mocking tone. His eyes dropped to the floor and he realized that the pod was headed for a ship, a ship which seemed to be glowing with a silvery sort of color about her nose. Another burst of static filled the pod then Matt was slammed against the side of the vehicle. Since he wasn’t wearing a helmet, the tech slipped peacefully into la-la land.<br/><br/><strong>Hours Later</strong><br/><br/>The ODST was still banging on the outside of the pod. “Go away,” Matt groaned. His head hurt and the last thing he wanted to deal with was a pissed off female ODST. He opened his eyes a sliver then they flared wide as the world around his pod came into view. It was waist high in water and a floating piece of debris was banging against the side. A floating piece of purple debris that looked curiously familiar.<br/><br/><em>I have to get out of here,</em>Fry resolved, slapping the eject button. The hatch punched out from the pod then it filled with water and Fry found himself up to his neck in foul, smelly, oil slicked water. Undoing the clasp on his safety harness, the technician slid from the pod. Matt managed to grab the M6D sidearm that was attached to the side of the pod before he began swimming towards the closest land in sight.<br/><br/>The tool belt, a faithful friend in the past, now sought vengeance for his mishap and tried to drown him with its weight. He unfastened the belt and let the tools sink to the bottom of the river. The floating debris which had seemed so familiar was being pushed towards him and Fry recognized the Covenant Ghost. Swimming over to the craft, Matt hiked a leg up and pulled himself into the Ghost’s seat.<br/><br/>He’d read the specs on the craft and knew its basic functions. Fry also knew from the Ghost’s console readout that it had minimal power. “No weapons, but enough juice to go..well, hell, where do I go?” Matt stated aloud. The tech had no idea where he was. It was clear from the skyline that he was in New York.<em>But where in NY?</em>Fry had a pistol with nine shots, no communication link or armor and no idea whether there were friendlies about.<br/><br/>“This is what Gunny Highway would call a Charlie Foxtrot,” Matt said, thinking back to boot camp and his D.I. “Time to improvise, adapt and overcome.” The marine technician powered up the Ghost and pointed it towards the shore. With any luck he would be able to find shelter and supplies in the city. And maybe, some folks who were friendly.<br/><br/><strong>New York, Earth</strong><br/><br/>The Ghost's controls drove slightly less erratic than a hog cart's, or how Matt assumed a hog cart would drive. When he tried to a hard turn the craft would slide around a corner then keep going until it bashed into a wall or debris and came to a stop. After a few jarring crashes, Matt resolved to take corners at a relatively slow pace.<br/><br/><em>This will never work if I'm being persued..</em>the marine thought.<em>Although if I don't find any armor they only need to hit me once and I'm toast.</em><br/><br/>Navigating around another street corner, Fry came upon a trio of Grunts who were all loitering around another crashed pod. Maybe this one has a functioning communications beacon. the PFC hoped as he increased his speed and ran down two of the snouted Covenant foot soldiers. Double thumps were heard beneath the Ghost and it shuddered then straightened out. The last living Grunt said, "I'm out of here!" and waddled off in the opposite direction on his stubby little feet. Matt turned the Ghost then accelerated it and ploughed over the last Grunt.<br/><br/>He slowed the Ghost, only staring momentarily at the streaks of light blue blood that had burst from the little oinkers' suits, before approaching the ODST pod. The pod was open and inside was a dead trooper. Matt stared down at the ODST. He'd seen dead people before but they had been mostly civilians. The trooper looked peaceful but his head was laying at an odd angle and Fry couldn't see any signs of trauma or a wound. The broken safety straps in the pod told Fry all he needed to know. The ODST's pod had slammed into the ground and the force had cause the straps and thus the trooper's neck to snap.<br/><br/>The ODST's battle rifle was still clipped to the side of the pod but Matt knew he had to get the trooper's armor first. He gingerly removed the soldier's helmet to reveal a young male with a livid scar running down the left side of his face. "Sorry Buddy, but I need your armor more than you do right now," Fry told the dead man. Taking the rest of the armor, Matt suited up and put on the soldier's helmet. The internal systems within the armor needed a reboot, but that proved to be no problem for the combat engineer. Information scrolled across the interior of the visor then the armor's health rate and targetting reticule came online. Matt procured the battle rifle from the pod. When he touched it sensors in the gloves relayed information about the weapon to his HUD, informing him that it had a full clip.<br/><br/>When the armor's communications systems came online, Matt attempted to make contact with any friendlies. "This is PFC Matthew Fry of the USNC ship Hercules, I am lost in New York. If anyone can hear this..I'd appreciate a waypoint to a safe destination.."