Crayons No More pt. VI

Revival

Chained to an old radiator. How long had it been now? Days? Weeks?
Didn't matter, his ever angering captors wouldn't get a word out of him - because he didn't know anything. One day he woke as an ODST and went to bed that night unemployed. Fucking disaster, all things considered, but it could have gone worse -at least he wasn't ejected into space.

"Where is your commanding officer?!" barked the leader of the insurrectionists surrounding him, the only reply offered was a frustrated sigh and a shake of the head with some sarcasm to boot.
"Fucked if I know, cunt, probably half way to Harvest by now for all the fucking difference it makes!"
Wrong answer. There's a sharp, stinging pain replaced by a dull ache as the commander boots him in the ribs to resounding laughter from the other gathered soldiers.
"Listen mate, if I knew I'd fucking tell you I've not seen any of them for we-"
He's interrupted by the quiet creak of an opening door, a small smile begins to play at his lips "In fact, I take it back. Let me introduce you."
Right on cue, the quiet hiss and crack of an M6C/Socom is outdone by the sound of shattering skull and brain matter spraying across the walls. Just as quietly come three more shots, the other soldiers in the room barely having time to scramble for their weapons.

Untied and helped to his feet, a disappointed tut comes from an armoured man in the doorway, medical insignia adoring his plates.
"Forgot this, silly cunt."
As a helmet is pushed down over his head, the VISR comes to life and displays a squad radar with a set of names and I'll tell you for a fact, no Sergeant has ever been so relieved to see a list of Command level callsigns.

Arden
Omen
Skywalker - Hold on a minute, doesn't he drive tanks? No matter.

The racking of the bolt on an M73 light machine gun breaks the quiet tension in the room - the ammo counter works just fine and though it could use a clean, it seems to line up well enough.

Out of the dark steps an ODST, clad head to toe in black, white and red armour, helmet adorned with a lion. From beneath it comes the voice of a man who sounds older than his face would suggest, were it visible.

"Well, Raider. Let's go find the rest."