Junebug leaned back against a large fungus with a vaguely purplish sheen, her skin prickled with adrenaline and she felt dry and detached despite the oppressive humidity.

“Ademahawhatnow?” she asked as she clipped the plasma rifle to her pack and shifted the submachine gun forward. They might or might not have shaken the terrans but the slug thrower was the better choice of weapon, both for the short sightlines and the heavy folliage. Plasma rifles put out an impressive amount of power but they vented their energy on the first solid object they encountered. It would be very impressive to blast a shrub to flaming cinders but it was of limited utility if the commando, or xeno monstrosity behind it would be unharmed.

Sayeeda was not an uneducated woman as such things went. She had been to military college on Croyden, a high tech world whose main export was soldiers, naval officers, and administrators, but the curriculum there had left little time for such abstract topics as history. A slight smile twitched the corners of her mouth, she doubted Drake could tell her much about the operations of a signals intercept detachment, but that wasn’t really germane to the discussion. Fortunately Drake needed no encouragement to enlighten her.

“The Aelahyne or the Forerunners as the less educated call them, were the first Xenos race that humans encountered. They had a mastery of the RIP that we can’t even begin to imagine. They were the original guardians of the Vault from which many of the advanced technologies that allowed the Golden Age of expansion were drawn from,” Drake said, his voice gaining strength and authority as he covered information which was at once familiar and allowed him appear superior to his rescuers/captors. It must have been a relief to him, after days of uncertain activity, to find himself in control of at least this information. Sayeeda blinked realizing she had tuned out for a moment.

“Valuable alien tech, got it,” she supplied filling the silence which clearly required some interjection from her.
“It is a find of incredible historical significance!” Drake half shouted. Sayeeda smacked him in the jaw with the butt of her submachine gun, dropping the younger man into a pile at her feet.

“Keep your fucking voice down,” she said in a quiet deadly tone. With practices swiftness she scanned the jungle, clicking through her helmets various enhancements. No sign of the Terrans.

“Last thing we need is a brick of Terran commandos, honing in on your whining.” Drake lifted his fingers from a bloodied lip, his face a mix of shock and anger. After a moment he nodded his head and pulled himself to his feet.

“Anyone ever tell you that you can be a bit of a bitch?”

[@POOHEAD189]