Crayons No More Pt. IV

Soon

Steve stood in the gathered crowd as the Major gave his briefing - staunch and stalwart as always, Major Arden always managed to inspire the troops regardless of the task ahead. 
As the crowd filed out to their appropriate stations, Steve managed to limp his way into the formation - doing what he could to blend in, right up to putting his helmet on first to make sure nobody noticed his winces at the pressure of his leg plates. "No matter," he thought "I've got enough morphine here to supply China their opium fix for a decade.". As the rest of the ODST filed through - Steve waved over Lance Corporal Davis - a young lad, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone better to keep your limbs attached in the field if things went sideways.

"Davis! Davis - I need a favour. I need you to stand between me and the Major when we file up to drop, he can't see me here like this. Easier to ask forgiveness than permission, eh?" he managed to sneak a grin through the currently clear visor of his helmet.
"Well, man, I don't know about this..." Davis trailed off before he picked back up "You shouldn't be out in the field like that! What if we get stuck on some rocks and you can't make your way down? We can't leave you there like that and you can't follow us!". 
Steve sighed deeply "Well then I'll stay behind for overwatch. Come on, mate, I'm getting fuckin' cabin fever sitting up here on this boat. Get me the fuck out of here, I'll drop in my boxers with nothing but a pistol and a magazine stuck up my arse if it means I can get planetside!" he says, holding onto the young medics shoulders in an almost desperate plea.
"Fine - fine! Just don't tell anyone I had anything to do with it." Davis mutters as he heads off towards the pod bay - Steve following close behind.

Then came the usual speech - where to sit, how to strap down your weapons... but as they turned to enter the pods, Steve was wrenched from his position - Major Arden holding the strap of his backpack like a short leash and pulling him away from his incredibly stupid idea - "Easy there killer, I'm not having one of my crazies going into a fight with a fucked leg. Get back to your cot and fix up before I have to dump your lame ass on the Navys doorstep. Understand?"
Steve stopped and listened - he was right, after all. It was a bad idea and he knew it... but it had been three whole weeks, now, he'd been out of cryo and forced to just sit and wait. It was almost too much to take - his trigger finger itchier than a mile of poison ivy... so instead of resisting, he removed his helmet, threw it across the pod bay, and did what he was told - only managing a half hearted salute to the Major as he left.

"Soon," he thought to himself "Soon, I'll be back out there. Fuck those innies - fuck up my leg and expect me to sit on this tub for a month. Not a chance. I'll be back... soon."

If only he'd known what would happen just a few short days later.