Welcome Home

Time: 2000\

May 05, 2542\

Earth

Sighing in frustration, Kaine tugged a hand through her hair, ruffling it out of the sleek perfection she'd spent hours gelling it into that morning. Being an ODST officer meant that she was routinely exposed the phenomenal human capacity to waste time while pretending to be productive, but these annual meetings took the cake. Not only did they force the young Lt. Colonel to return to Earth every single year, despite how the war was going or where else she was needed, the meetings also demanded that she rise at an ungodly time in the morning, look the very definition of perfection, and come to HQ to sit through literal hours of people talking and no one listening. Not a single officer said anything new; everyone just summarized their official reports for the last year and regurgitated them in a way to make it sound as if accomplishments were being made. It was infuriating.

Truthfully, Eric was the one who was supposed to be coming back for these meetings, but he'd been banned after that year that he threatened to shoot an ONI Admiral. The Head of ONI, Admiral Parangosky, had said that his reaction was justified, but the rest of the UNSC high ranked officers had been hesitant to invite the older Faldon back. Thus, the duty had been passed to Kaine. She'd nearly strangled her adopted father herself when the order to report to meetings had come the first time. The very last thing she wanted was to be under ONI scrutiny once a year, every year. However, an order was an order, so she kept coming back. Nothing could make her happy about it though.

Once her hair was suitably mussed up, the redhead walked out of HQ, tugging her hat on the second her foot crossed the threshold. The sun had set a short time ago, staining the western sky pink while the eastern side was already a dark, fathomless blue. Regardless, the plaza was almost unbearably bright with artificial lights as people scurried about. Ignoring them all, Kaine made her way to the transport shuttle stop. She shared the space with a small number of people, but she still noticed that they were subtly keeping their distance from her. Earth was perhaps one of very few planets that treated ODST's with as much respect/fear as ONI. Usually it was a source of irritation for the officer, as she considered herself to be as normal a human as a Spartan could be. The only difference between herself and civilians was the uniform she wore. Despite that, when she was tired and numb with boredom, she couldn't be paid to care.

Running slightly behind schedule, the shuttle finally pulled into the stop. Politely waiting for passengers to disembark, Kaine was still the first to board the vehicle. It was rather full, as many civilians were just ending their work shift for the day. One open seat was beside an elderly man that had a couple bags full of flowers at his feet. He seemed to value his privacy, so the redhead quickly sat beside him. The odds of him starting a conversation and thus forcing her to observe the rules of polite civilization by replying were slim. In fact, if she was very lucky, he wouldn't notice if she caught a quick nap.

Once everyone was settled, the shuttle pulled away from the curb and resumed its route. For a few blessed moments, everything was silent. Then quiet conversations started, adding a low but tolerable hum to the sounds of travel. Closing her eyes in a pathetic attempt to rest, Kaine could only think longingly of her bed and returning to space the next day. She hated being away from the front lines. It always left a sour taste in her mouth, thinking about the men that were fighting and dying while she sat in an air conditioned room playing the ancient game of solitaire on her pad because it was the only thing to keep her sane and not going on a murderous rampage.

"Are you an ODST?" Cursing fluently in her mind, the redhead reluctantly opened her eyes and glanced at the man beside her. So much for him being a safe bet. However, a strange glint in his green eyes made her resist the urge to snarl.

"I am," she answered shortly, closing her eyes again. Maybe he would take the hint and leave her be.

"Been back on Earth long?" Then again, maybe not.

"Got back yesterday," she grunted, struggling and failing to keep the irritation out of her voice. Why hadn't they given the Spartans more advanced lessons on how to mask emotions in all situations? She could use them right about now! Learning how to get in and out of a heavily fortified base without detection was a wonderful skill, don't get her wrong, but what about getting in and out of conversations quickly? Couldn't there have been one damn lesson on that?!

"I see," he replied, giving her a small smile and completely unaware of her silent frustrated scream. "Will you be here long?"

"I leave again tomorrow," was her terse answer as she finally gave up trying to rest and gave him her 'not-glare' glare. For chocolate's sake, what would it take to make him shut up?! She just wanted to sleep, dammit! "I was only here for the annual meetings."

"Ah," he sighed, a hint of sadness appearing his eyes. "Well then, may I tell you something? Despite the short time you'll be spending here?" Thinking that he just might shut up if she agreed, Kaine nodded tightly. "Welcome home." Her eyes widened the tiniest margin in surprise, and he smiled very slightly when he caught it. "I try to say that to every soldier that comes back to Earth. Thank you for your service." Then he turned away, facing the front of the shuttle once more. For a few long seconds Kaine continued to stare at him, before slowly resettling herself and allowing her eyes to drift shut again. Just before they slid completely closed, she spotted the tattoo on his forearm. With an almost audible click, everything fell together in her mind, followed swiftly by the horrible, crushing sensation of guilt.

Decades before the war against the Insurrectionists, there had been a war on one of the planets Earth had colonized. The second largest colony at the time had fallen into chaos as the economy collapsed because of dictators. Thousands of soldiers had been sent to the planet in order to restore peace, most pulled from other colonies and worlds. It was a long war, leaving the world with scars that would never fully heal, but the humans suffered more than the land ever could.

The worst part of the war, though, was when it was over.

Ship after ship transported the soldiers home, but the reception they received was not what they had been expecting. Over the long years of war, public support had virtually vanished. Pictures of the horror and violence from the conflict had spread like wildfire, resulting in civilians across the galaxy protesting against the war. They wanted the war to be brought to an end, and succeeded, but then weren't sure what to do with the thousands of soldiers that were coming back. Men and women that would never be the same after everything that had happened to them on the battlefield were suddenly being told that there was no place for them anymore. They could come home, but only if they pretended that nothing had changed.

Kaine had heard about how the soldiers were treated. They were not welcomed home with cheering crowds, like the marines she knew. They were not stopped on the streets to be thanked, like her own ODST's. Most people did not call them heroes. Most people did not respect or honor them. The soldiers were cast out of social society, forced to bear everything alone and with virtually no support. It was, in Kaine's opinion, one of the worst things the human race had ever done. But it was in the history books, barely given mention at all, and she didn't think of it often.

However, the man's tattoo of the 63rd Infantry badge and the dates of the war beneath it brought everything back with a vengeance. It made her wonder how many people had told him welcome home, or had taken the time to thank him for the services he'd given. She wondered if anyone had given him a hug, or mentioned how proud they were to call him one of their own. And it made her utterly ashamed of how she'd been treating him.

Feeling the shuttle begin to slow and hearing the rustling of bags beside her, Kaine opened her eyes again. Seeing the stop that was coming up, she got to her feet. When the shuttle pulled to a stop she got off and patiently waited for the old man to step out as well. He gave her a curious glance, but she just gazed back evenly. After a moment, the man shrugged and walked through the nearby gate, not questioning when the redhead followed a few steps behind. The pair was silent as they walked down the rows, stopping occasionally when the man would pause to place a single flower on a name.

Ignoring the late hour, Kaine kept pace with the old man. She never spoke, only offering the man a tissue when he started sniffing back the tears. Ignoring the ache that was settling into her legs and the exhaustion that was dragging at her heels, the redhead refused to leave. It wasn't until the eastern sky started turning pink that she realized that she was supposed to leave the planet in less than an hour.

O'Brien would be calling her soon, trying to figure out where she was. No doubt her men were all grumbling about the delay as well. But still she stubbornly refused to leave until the old man had finished his rounds, using up every flower he'd brought. As they slowly made their way back to the front gate, she could feel him glancing at her. "My father was in the war," she finally told him quietly. "Actually, all three of them were. My birth father never talked about it, he was too ashamed. But I saw his medals when I hid in his closet during a storm one day. The man that raised me would tell stories about the war to teach me and my siblings, but he never really talked about what he went through."

Stopping for a moment, Kaine slowly traced one of the names that she'd spotted earlier. George Roland. Mendez had spoken of him often. He'd been nineteen when he threw himself on a live grenade, saving the Chief and the rest of his squad. It was one of very few personal stories Mendez had ever told them. "It's my adoptive father that I know the most about," she continued, moving on. "He told me about the days marching through mud. About the rains that would wash trails out from under your boots. To this day, he can't stand wind chimes. They remind him of the alarms; the strings of cans that they would put through the bushes so no one could sneak up on them. He was the one to tell me about how no one had ever really welcomed him home. They wanted him to act like it was all a dream, like nothing had changed him or like he'd never gone away. And when he couldn't, they pushed him out of their lives. When the war against the Insurrectionists began, he was almost happy. It gave him the chance to go back to one of the few places he really felt like he belonged in. The battlefield, and if there is a sadder statement, I don't want to know what it is."

Finally back at the entrance, Kaine turned to face the man at last, taking note of the tears in his eyes as he silently smiled at her. Hearing his unspoken thanks, she smiled back and offered her hand. When he took it, she gave a sudden tug and pulled the startled man into a hug. It didn't take long before the embrace was returned with interest, bringing a sad smile to her lips. "I know it's late," she whispered. "But I wanted to say thank you for your service, sir. And just in case no one has ever said it before, welcome home."

"Thank you for your support," he replied, voice rough with emotion. The redhead could feel tears falling on her shoulder, but politely didn't draw attention to them. She simply continued to offer comfort until he pulled away, releasing him easily. Offering one of her very rare smiles, Kaine nodded before turning around to face the gate they had just passed through. Not caring that several civilians in the area were giving her strange looks, she saluted the silent graveyard and war memorial, wondering if the spirits could hear her unspoken thanks and apologies. She held the salute until the sun finally broke the horizon, flooding the area with soft morning rays. Whispering two words, she dropped the salute and spun on her heels, quickly walking away so that the man could say goodbye to his battle buddies privately. She knew O'Brien was going to have her hide for the wait and could only imagine the string of growls and curses that her squad would be lining up for her as she undoubtedly made them far too late to have breakfast. However, she couldn't bring herself to care. Some things were just more important. Things like the quiet whisper that was now lingering around the gate, warming the heart of every soldier that entered in search for the names of their lost friends.

Thank you.