There was a slight limp in one of his legs, his black chest armor was scarred by plasma, and crimson blood was seeping from wounds on his shoulder and...forearm. In one hand, he held a tiny knife, its blade wet with Kig-yar blood. In the other, he held the Elite’s plasma rifle, the red glow of its ammo counter indicating that the charge was almost depleted.He had torn through her squad like a Zealot, and how many more before it? Where else could he have obtained the rifle and the plasma grenade?. Becca laughed too, despite her original outlook on the situation. "I gotta hand it to you, Matt... You seem to know your stuff... I hope you don't mind, but I may need a few favors for you down the road." She said with a wink. I was amazed. This all felt like a fucking dream. "Yeah, of course. Any time." So, we're good now...?" She looked up at me with those stunning blue eyes.It took me a second to realize what she meant. The picture. "Yeah, we're good. I won't show anyone. I'll just keep it. More

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