Sleep Is For The Weak

Stay awake, Felix. Don’t succumb to tiredness.

That’s what I’ve been telling myself for the past four years now. Or had it been five years or slightly longer? I don’t seem to remember or even remotely care –it’s been such an awful long time since I set foot on Chorus after the hell I’ve been through. All I know is I’ve had this mantra, as some might say, drilled into my brain and nothing or nobody will convince me otherwise.

The other soldiers wouldn’t understand anyway. Not that I expect them to, especially since I made a request to Kimball that I had my own bodyguard standing outside my quarters from dusk to dawn. I could detect the sheer curiosity in their faces every time they studied me intently with their eyes. At times I convinced myself that I knew what they must be thinking.

Why would a big badass (and might I add very handsome) mercenary such as myself would resort to someone guarding my ass when it was no longer daylight?

Well, the answer to that is so damn simple. Let’s just say that fate provided me with such a valuable lesson, an event that will forever be burned into my mind for as long as I shall live providing the fact I don’t get killed beforehand. During the last dying months of the war between humanity and an alien species known as the Covenant, I learned that waking up can be perilous in the middle of the night particularly when your teammate/most hated rival was standing above you poised with a dagger.

It was at that moment I realised there was some truth in Locus’ claims of killing me despite the fact we fought together side by side in one of the worst battles in the history of the UNSC. Thankfully my survival instincts kicked in before Locus could unleash the final blow. Like an enraged demon out of hell, I’d flown at him and then before I knew it, we were rolling around on the floor pummelling the shit out of each other. Strictly on my part it was purely fight or die while on the other hand he wanted more than nothing to add my death to his ever growing collection of assassinations.

I hadn’t given him the pleasure of succeeding in his plan though. I’d rendered him unconscious merely by grabbing hold of a nearby blunt object and smashed it twice straight into his unprotected skull. Served the cock bite right for not wearing his helmet. As for me I came out of the skirmish pretty much unscathed with the exception of a spilt lip, a few bruises and cuts on my upper body and one broken rib.

I frowned to myself in the darkness of my room. Why the hell did I yawn just now? I could have somehow found a way to hold it in for God’s sake.

You better not close your eyes, damn you! Locus is still out there – you don’t want to be easy pickings if he were to infiltrate the New Republic’s stronghold using his cloak device.

Releasing a frustrated sigh, I pounded a fist into the half sagging pillow a couple of times. When are we going to replace these sorry excuses for pillows? They lacked comfort, not to mention plumpness! Maybe it’s about time I should pay a visit to Kimball’s office tomorrow morning and raise the issue once and for all. As her hired number one killer Vanessa wouldn’t deny me anything I desired – and no, I wasn’t hinting at any sexual favours when I was saying that. I wasn’t interested in her in that way and I’m pretty confident the sentiment was mutual as far as she was concerned.

All of us were focus on two goals. One – ending the Civil War and winning against the Federal Army of Chorus, which unsurprisingly Locus was fighting on the behalf of. Two – assist the Reds and the Blues in their mission to rescue their friends from the enemy.

The second thing, although a main priority at the moment, appeared to be quite troublesome. Because of them proving themselves to be a liability upon failing to lead their individual squads effectively in a test combat scenario, I don’t think their chances of seeing their friends again anytime soon will come true.

Hard to believe that these men, being the most incompetent soldiers I’ve ever encountered, managed to take down a corrupt militarily organisation, Project Freelancer…It was how I came to heard of them, believing if they'll join the rebels we would stand a firm chance in this conflict.

Every second I stayed awake for, the more heavily my eyelids grew. Eventually I allowed myself to be whisked away by welcoming shadows, my vision turning black as I began to rest.

Must…stay…awake...

The faint sounds of footsteps, followed by someone gently shaking my shoulder, penetrated my senses and alerted my awareness. Immediately I awakened, my hands meeting my target as fingers tightly squeezed the assailant’s neck. It was too dark to see them, but it still didn’t deter me from snarling through gritted teeth, “You should have killed me when you had the chance to, you little shit!”

The silhouetted figure struggled against my grasps, gasping a little before eventually saying in a strained voice, “Felix…it’s me, T-Tucker. Remember?”

My eyes widened in horror as I realised I wasn’t strangling Locus as I originally thought so. What the fuck am I doing? As though I burnt myself, I quickly released him, feeling ashamed as I heard Tucker deeply inhaling now that he was able to breathe again.

Damn, how long was I out for? I didn’t need to glance at the clock to realise it must be approximately five in the morning.

I glanced over at Tucker. Should I apologise, make amends? Better not, he’d most probably deem me as weak.

“What reason have you got for being here, Tucker?”

“Kimball sent me here. We’ve got training, man.”