Chapter 1

"Mommy!"

The wail echoed through the thin walls of the two story, ranch style home. It served as the wake-up alarm better than her clock ever could, because her clock had a snooze button. She had tried poking Eva in the nose, but that never stopped her. Nicole Kimber sighed, opening her eyes and licking away the sleepy drool that lined her lips. Deeper than usual for her, she must have been tired after her most recent tour.

"Aunt Nicole," Eva said, standing at the foot of her bed. "Tiny hurt himself."

"Nicole sat up. "How did he manage that?"

"He smashed his arm into my fist," Eva said in the innocent way only a little deviant could muster.

"Mommy!" Tiny screamed, coming into the room.

"I told him to stop touching me," Eva said simply.

"And I didn't touch her!" Tiny shouted.

"Then it wasn't worth it, now was it?" Nicole said, standing up and climbing out of the bed. "Where's Nic?"

"Tiny, go let your brother out of the laundry hamper."

"He's not my brother," Tiny snapped, but seeing the glare in his mother's eyes, went to go fulfill his orders, like a good little soldier.

About an hour later, Nicole was showered and dressed in jeans and a tanktop, though stayed barefooted in her own home. She was cooking breakfaster, scrambled eggs and bacon, when she heard the familiar chorus of screams and shouts.

Nicole took a deep breath. "Tiny stop holding your finger an inch from Eva and saying you're not touching her. Eva lighten up, he's just teasing. Nic, its been in your mouth for over half an hour, spit it out."

But there was still a gentle sob.

Eva was ten now, larger than either the two boys, and had a streak of aggression that reminded Nicole of a Jiralhanae. She was almost the same size as Nicole. Nic was nine, only a bit smaller than Eva, but a shy and quiet little thing. She thanked god daily he wasn't a trouble maker like his sister. Tiny was only five, and had the misfortune of taking after his mother. He was small, and weak. But he could be vicious when he had to be, not unlike his mother. That's why Eva was the one crying.

"What did you say?" Nicole asked. She lowered to her knee. "Timothy Gregory Kimber, what did you say to her?"

"The truth," he huffed.

"What did you say?" Nicole asked again.

It took a moment for Tiny to realize how deeply he had sunk, but he finally said, "I said her parents are dead."

"Go to your room," she said standing.

Tiny knew better than to argue with his mother and, head held low, left.

"He right," Eva said, swallowing tears. "You say always tell the truth."

"I do, don't I?"

"They're both dead."

Only ten, and she understood one of life's cruel lessons. Nicole reached over and hugged Eva. "I know."

"Why couldn't dad stay? He promised," Eva cried, wetting Nicole's shirt with salty tears. "He promised." Eva screamed, pounding forward, and accidentally hitting Nicole in the left eye. Nicole stumbled back, holding the orbital bone. "Why?" Eva whimpered, holding her head.

"Because he loved you. And he wanted to be sure you were safe."

Nicole always told her children to tell the truth, no matter the situation. And yet, how many times did she lie?

She let Tiny out of his room to come have breakfast, and sat the three children down. "You have to stop this," she said. "I don't get to spend that much time here, I don't want you three fighting all the time, alright?"

"I don't fight," Nic said, lifting his hand as if he were at school. He got a firm punch to the arm.

"Eva," Nicole said sharply. "You think that because you're not my blood, I don't love you. And Tiny, you think that because I chose Eva and Nic, for some reason I love them more. But its not true, alright. I love all of you. I love you all so much, and when I'm here, I want you all to get along, alright?"

They nodded, eventually. The trio of children got up from their chairs and circled the table, hugging her tightly. She made sure to hug each back in turn. "Please, for mommy's sake, get along. You've known each other since you were born. You are brothers and sister."

"Alright," they said in unison.

She broke the embrace. "Now, go out and spread love and joy together."

Nicole didn't particularly feel safe in her house. She had defenses and precautions, a pistol under her pillow, alarms at the window, camera and emergency lines, but they were all fallible. But the kids liked the backyard, so that was that. She was washing the morning dishes and pan when her sister wandered down from the upstairs, yawning and still in her nightgown.

"You missed breakfast," Nicole said.

"Lucy, her sister, belched in a very unfeminine manner. Nicole thought of an Unggoy. "Fine, make me a sandwich."

Nicole wasn't in the mood. "Do the kids always fight like this when I'm not here?"

"No. They never fight. They want your attention Nicole. You aren't here enough. Working with the Elites."

"Sangheili," she corrected. "They're Sangheili."

Lucy growled like a Kig-Yar. "Look at you," she snapped. She had served in the Navy as well, but got out as soon as she could. She had received basic training, while Nicole got special ops. Lucy was bigger than her sister by about eight inches and thirty pounds. Nicole could probably take her. "The war took away Tim. You're all those kids have left."

"Wars over, and the Jiralhanae can't do anything. No risk involved, I just stay in for the benefits."

"A glitch in the system killed Greg. That's why you're stuck with Eva and Nic. What if that happens to you? I'm not taking care of your children if your ship flies into the sun by accident."

"I could get killed walking down the street. Que sera, sera."

Lucy snarled like a Sangheili. She imagined Orff clicking his mandibles in displeasure, which he always did but refused to admit. A whiffle ball broke through the kitchen window and flew through the space between the two. "Sorry," Tiny shouted from outside.

Come nightfall, Nicole tucked the children in. Lucy went to sleep sometime after midnight. Nicole stayed up, in the living room, reading, so she was the only one to hear the knock at the door. Without really thinking, she walked over and opened the door o be greeted by two burly men in suits. For a moment, she remembered that cold winter day. She thought of when she got the news about Timothy, but, who could they tell her died this time? There was no one left.

"Lieutenant Nicole Kimber?" one asked.

"Yes," she said.

The one who had spoken took identifications out of his coat. "I'm Agent Francis and this is Agent Stevenson."

"You must be the men in black," she said, a little tired and buzzed from the wine she had been sipping. "The house next door is the one bought by the Unggoy immigrant." She looked down at the badge he was still holding out, and couldn't find anything suspicious.

"You have to come with us. You're in extreme danger ma'am."

She nodded, understanding. She had been dreading a day like this for forever. "Let me get the kids."

Francis put a hand on her shoulder. "Another car is on its way. We have no reason to believe they are being targeted. Trust me, the farther away they are from you, the better."

She nodded. The car was a civilian model Warthog. The two took the front seats leaving Kimber's small frame in the huge back seat. Comical actually, her sitting there. She didn't like it.

"What's this about?" she asked, leaning her head against the door. She was tired.

"We don't know ma'am. Just ordered to pick you up."

"But you said I am in danger. I mean, that's nothing new for me, but usually I can see the pissed off Jiralhanae charging after me."

"Classified ma'am. We don't know. We just know to pick you up."

Nicole sighed, letting her eyes close, then pop back open. The seat belt was annoying her. She could sleep almost anywhere, but still. And they were speeding fast. It was a bumpy ride. She was getting thrown around. If the streets weren't empty for the twilight hours, they would have hit some one by now. Instead, someone hit them. Despite the Warthog's size, a side impact by a garbage truck was enough to send it spinning into a wall. Nicole was thrown around worse than any potholes and speed bumps could ever do. She smashed against the walls and the back and the front seat. She flew and smashed, opening gashes on her arm and bruises under the skin. Her head broke against the glass. The seatbelt kept her grounded in the seat at least. The two, Francis and Stevenson, weren't as lucky. Francis probably had a fractured skull from smashing into the dashboard. He was groaning and sighing. Stevenson's seat was empty. He had gone through the windshield was presently a dozen feet away.

Groaning in pain and barely clinging to consciousness, through blurry eyes she saw a hulking form push something long and shadowed to Stevenson's head. Stevenson's head bobbed at the poke, but he didn't wake. The hulk moved on. She put her head down. The blood was getting her eyes.

The opposite door to the one she was leaned on wretched and pulled away. The cool twilight breeze washed inside. The streets lights shine was bloated out as the hulk climbed in after her. Large hands grabbed the seatbelt and yanked it apart. Then the long fingers grabbed her around the chest. Her ribs must have been broken. The fingers felt no resistance, and she could have sworn she felt her heart start to pop. Apparently sensing this, the grip loosened, and pulled her into the open, into the street lights. Her head bobbed loosely (how had her neck not snapped), but her eyes focused.

"Orff?" she asked.

Orff cradled her as he carried her tightly to the garbage truck, and loaded her into the passenger side. "Orff," she called out, but he shut the door. His form glowed in the headlights as he walked across the trucks front and climbed into the driver's seats. "Orff, what the hell is going on?"

The Sangheili began to drive. "We received word that you would be kidnapped."

"By who?" she asked. Everything hurt. She tasted blood. She couldn't breathe. "Cause those guys," she paused. "Those men you murdered, they were legitimate."

"There is a duffle bag at your feet. Armor and weapons."

She bent for it. A mistake. Her chest felt like mush that was going to slide out between her legs. She stumbled back, crying and screaming. Orff said nothing, didn't even pay attention to her. After a few very careful heaves, she pushed managed to reach down and grab the bag. She picked it up, arm aching. She couldn't dress in the armor, but the pistol, a human model, .22 caliber. She tucked it into her pants. "What about my kids?"

"They are safe. They will be taken to Cairo Station."

"Will they be safe?"

"Do you trust your lord?"

She heaved again. "Orff, I need to go to a hospital."

"First we get you to Shadow the Intent."

"Orff," she breathed. "I need a doctor." She pulled her legs up and started to cry, holding her insides.

They spent the rest of the ride to the Phantom drop ship in a dense painful silence. Nicole kept begging him to stop, but he refused either with a stiff single word or just silence. Orff carried her into the Phantom quickly, running up the ramp and aboard the drop ship and setting her down in a seat. He ordered the pilot to take off.. The Phantom lurched as it rose through the air, sending a painful shock through her body. "Orff, what is happening?" she demanded.

The Phantom glided into the Shadow of Intent's hangar. Orff ordered her out. She stood painfully, and stumbled, keeping herself up right with the seats and grab bars. She stumbled out into the blinding light of the hangar. Her visions took an agonizing time, adjusting to the lights. When she could finally see, she was greeted by no less than a dozen plasma rifles and carbines, their Sangheili wielders hulking and breathing heavy. Glinting energy swords ignited and humming loudly in the otherwise silent air. Fearful, she turned back to Orff, begging him for some explanation.

"You are under arrest for the murder of Sub-Commander of Special Operations Prin Vadum," he said. "Come quietly, don't make me hurt you."