timeline: about 2550

author's note: I've adjusted minor details to keep in line with the newly confirmed canon of things I have already deduced. Slight spoilers if you've not played Halo:Reach or read Halsey's Journal. I love Mr. Nylund.


You have a message waiting.

The greenish notification light blips on the screen at me; I'm to lazy to open the message from the computer. No incentive. I have to stare at viewscreens every damn day on the bridge of the Hilbert. Besides, the silver double-bar Lieutenant's pin I'm twirling in my hand holds my attention longer than the blip does.

I remove the old horizontal Junior Grade pin on my uniform, and it's replaced with a full Lieutenant's insignia.

You have a message waiting.

The computer nags for my attention again, like a mother nagging her daughter to clean her room. The analogy is hollow for me, as there is no maternal influence in my life. Not anymore. Likewise, being the daughter of an OCS Academy Instructer meant that my room had to be clean before I was told, as it is now.

Out of habit, I keep my quarters clean, and there aren't other officers I have to share it with. That's the good part about being a bridge officer: you get your own quarters.

I lug my drained body off the bed to the computer. "Open message," I tell it.

Normal words greet my eyes, not decimals and vectors like the bridge moniters.

[ Shore Leave

Keyes,

Join us on the surface for some moons and drinks. Pelican leaves in 20.

Ryan]

I glance at the time-stamp. Ryan sent the message ten minutes ago.

Damn. If I run, I get can down to the hanger in five. I hastily change, donning my Helljumpers track jacket (courtesy of Dad and his obsession with soccer), and I double-time it down to the hanger bay, ignoring the surprised looks of crewmen wondering why an off-duty bridge officer is sprinting through the ship.

"KEYES!"

Ryan's baritone bellows throughout the hanger and he waves at me.

I make my way to him and he gives me a pat on the back; a heartfelt, brotherly swat that knocks the wind out of me.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd show," he rumbled.

"Yeah, just in time," I breathe with the last of my air.

"It'd be a shame if you didn't 'cuz we're buying your drinks."

"Really?" It strikes me that he's not my superior anymore.

"Yup," he tells me through a grin, his pearly whites contrasting with his chocolate skin, and gives me another knee-buckling swat. "You earned it."

"Alright, but just one."

"Just one, huh?" I think I feel his low chuckle more than I hear it. "We'll see if you hold to that when we're down there," he said as we both entered the pelican.