Part 1 – Legacies

Chapter 1

0530hrs, July 24, 2552, Pelican Dropship Golf-Three-India inbound to Planet Reach from UNSC Grafton

With furrowed brows the armor-clad soldier thumbed the faded blue ribbon and looked at the tarnished gold medal that hung from it. He'd been reassigned to Noble Team on planet Reach as their Second-in-command. The thought of working with others was strange to the brooding Spartan super soldier. Ever since training he'd worked alone. Everyone told him how good he was yet there were so many black marks in his dossier from his previous assignments you could hardly find anything to read. Was that good? It all depended on how you defined it. Regardless, the Spartan was thinking of investing in the Sharpee Company.

The ride from Onyx had been quick and uneventful giving him too much time to reflect and ponder days past. Now he stood waiting to disembark, looking out a window at Reach. Still the same colorful ball spinning in space that he remembered with very mixed emotions. Some things didn't change which gave a measure of comfort. He'd changed, a lot, since he'd been here. It felt like a lifetime.

Hauling his gear into the Pelican in the frigate's landing bay the former Beta Company trooper was surprised when a slender soldier in red-accented EVA armor sat down across from him for the drop to the planet. The loadmaster hadn't paid any attention nor did the squad of UNSC Marines going along for the ride. He didn't know anyone else had been assigned to Noble besides him. The orders had said they were down one, needing a 2ic, nothing about another being added to the team but then Spartans didn't always get all the information either.

Lost in thought and the hum of the Pelican as it moved towards the planet once clearing the engine wash of the frigate the introverted Spartan didn't notice the armored female soldier staring at him. They'd come on together with a group of others heading for the surface but beyond a nod from a helmeted head there'd been no other acknowledgement.

"What are you looking at?" the curious woman asked the Spartan, trying to strike up a conversation.

"A reminder of the past," the stone-faced soldier responded hollowly, not looking up. "A legacy to live up to…a millstone," he added, barely above the whisper.

"A what?" the woman asked in confusion.

"Nothing." Snapping out of his reflections the Spartan answered hollowly, "It's a Congressional Medal of Honor, an award from Earth's past. It's a family heirloom and was won by a great grandfather of mine a long time ago for heroism in battle."

For the first time Mike Nantz, Mike B312 as he was now referred, looked at the woman who'd been asking him the questions. Though his full identity no longer existed Mike still remembered his full name and his heritage. He remembered his father and the last time they'd spoken, he remembered the family history. He remembered it all despite his attempts to forget. It was ironic that many of the kids he'd gone through training with at Camp Curahee on Onyx had little or no recollection of their pasts and desperately wanted to. He didn't, envying their ability to not remember. Fate was funny that way.

Sitting across from him on the drop ship was a woman in MJOLNIR Mark VB armor. She had blond hair with red streaks in it and piercing green eyes that bore into him. Attractive, gorgeous really in a predatory sort of way, something about the woman didn't sit right with Mike. Then it struck him. She hadn't been enhanced. She wasn't a Spartan.

Natalia has spotted the Spartan III while they were still in transit on the Grafton heading towards Reach. There was something about him, the way he walked and how he carried himself that caught her eye and caused it to linger. Sure, there were Marines on board and even ODST's but this was a Spartan III, making him special. Though she'd interacted with several in the past this one was different from the rest. She could tell by the glint in his eyes he was even more dangerous than the others and that was exciting to her. The man's short, sandy brown hair and solid features only added to the package. His grey eyes were like granite, but behind them she could detect a sadness masked in anger.

"Hey, what's your name?" Natalia asked.

"Mike B312," he replied without emotion.

B31…oh man, this is the one. This is the Lone Wolf, Natalia thought to herself, her breath growing shallower as her heart added what seemed to be another 50 beats per minute in a split second. This guy's a legend. No wonder he has that air about him. I'm definitely going to get to know him, she added, breath becoming shallow with excitement. This guy was dangerous. You could tell. It wasn't the long scar on his jaw line, it was the eyes. This guy's a killer…and very exciting, she thought.

"My name's Natalia Misriah, but my friends call me Tali," she gushed, face turning a bit red.

Rather than pick up on the obvious interest Natalia was showing, Mike looked her over not as a man does a woman but instead critically, like a drill instructor does a raw recruit. "Is that Misriah as in 'battle tested for your home' Misriah?"

"Yes, Spanner Misriah is my father," she responded stiffly, aware of the implications already of his tone.

"The owner of Misriah Armory, huh? So where'd you get your armor?" Mike asked, an accusatory edge to his voice. "You some sort of new ODST or something since you're no Spartan?"

"No, I was issued it," the woman replied a bit nervously. "I'm with Office of Naval Intelligence."

"What division?"

"Section One."

Mike snorted audibly and went back to his musings, signaling prematurely the end of their dialogue.

The conversation wasn't going well for Natalia. As the woman fumed she could see the condemnation in the decorated soldier's eyes. That made her mad. Mad at Mike, mad at her father, made at Admiral Parangovsky for allowing her on this mission, mad at herself for being embarrassed. It irritated the proud woman but in reality she couldn't fault him. Mike B-312 had seen a lot of combat. She'd seen a desk. The reality of what she was about to get herself into finally dawned. When the idea had been presented for her to get some field experience she jumped on it, feeling she could keep up with anyone, even the famed Spartans. But now, sitting in the dropship, seeing the look in this man's eyes, she could only imagine what the others would think of her. She looked closer at his armor array and noticed his rank, wincing instinctively.

Mike shook his head at the situation. Despite his attempts to go back to other thoughts he kept thinking about Natalia Misriah. Of course she had the armor. Connections. Yet again the idea that he was fighting for seemed to be corrupted. He'd endured the death of his whole family, the excruciating procedure to make him a Spartan. He'd served to the best of his abilities on missions that gave him nightmares and made him hate himself. He'd given everything to the cause. Yet this was what he was fighting for.

Eyes narrowing, Mike looked more closely at the woman's armor noticing the Lieutenant Commander badge she wore. So she outranked him too. Great. She couldn't be more than twenty years old. Sure, he was only twenty-two but he'd entered the Spartan program when he was nine. She was likely just out of school in the past couple of years. Politics. It made him want to puke. She didn't seem so attractive on closer inspection.

Mike sat sullenly while the Marines on the dropship outdid each other with stories of what they'd do with their shore leave on Reach. Natalia was alone with her thoughts. Used to being the center of attention this was a new feeling for the confident woman. Doubt crept in, not only about this assignment but about many things. She'd always succeeded at everything, always won. What if she didn't? The thought gave her a chill of fear.

Natalia's datapad chirped, breaking the dark thoughts starting to build. The inbound call came as a welcome distraction. She smiled affectionately when she saw who it was.

MacKenzie.

Good old MacKenzie, she thought to herself. You could always count on him. Like a faithful dog.

MacKenzie Wainwright served as a senior executive at Misriah Armory. He was educated, ambitious, handsome and athletic. In other words MacKenzie was every woman's dream. Every woman except Natalia Misriah. He was crazy about her, wanted to marry her. He had her father's seal of approval, being a protégé of his. They'd been something of a couple for over a year. It was the 'something' that she struggled with. Something was lacking in the man which she'd still not been able to put her finger on so she'd kept him at arm's length. It wasn't ambition. He had lots of that being the youngest man at his level of management at the company. It wasn't pedigree. He came from a prominent business family on earth, had gone to all the right schools, was a member of the right groups. It wasn't looks. He had all those, the kind that made the girls in the executive support group swoon. No, it was something else. Was it passion? Drive? He had all those but just not the way Natalia would define it. She'd had this conversation with herself hundreds of times.

Natalia set the datapad to text-only communications rather than videofeed. She knew that would irritate MacKenzie but she didn't care. She wasn't in the mood to see him nor have Mike be privy to their conversation.

Hello MacKenzie she typed. You're up early.

Business never sleeps. Especially when its business pertaining to you, he replied. Let's go video. I want to see you.

Can't, she lied, I'm on a mission.

Where are you? He asked.

Can't tell you that either, it's classified.

Come on Tali, don't play with me. You're on your way to Reach.

Of course he knew, she thought to herself, a wave of irritation crashing over her. Of course he'd know because her father would put that power into his hands. Was that what was bothering her right now? Natalia, always in control but not in control. Powerful, driven but only because of others. Or more to the point, because of one- her father. The man had given her everything and yet something was missing. Twenty years old and she felt like she was two. More to the point, stealing a glance at Mike sitting stoically with his back ramrod straight against the dropship wall, she felt like a fraud, a poser. That made her angry too. Then there was MacKenzie who couldn't allow her one day without talking. She was beginning to feel like a highly prized pet. Where'd the armor come from? She thought to herself. Mike B312's words haunted her. Where? The same place everything else had come from. Daddy. She let the cursor blink for a few moments as she let MacKenzie wait and her anger settle down.

You still there Tali? The screen lit up with the question.

Good question, she thought to herself.

Sorry Mac, I was interrupted, Natalia typed. What's up?

Not much. Same old same old. Was out to the club last night. Wasn't the same without you. Everyone had a stinger in your honor. Celeste said what you were doing was crazy but the others shut her down. She's just jealous. We're proud of you for serving on the frontline. Just don't get too close to it, okay?

No troubles, she typed. I'm with a good team and I can handle myself. Some frontline- A short-term posting to the safest planet in the galaxy on a mission to root our Insurrectionists with one of the top teams in all the UNSC. Yea, the frontline. She imagined the toasts that would have been drunk in her honor and it made her sick to the stomach.

Fraud. The condemning word screamed in her mind.

True, Noble is the best, MacKenzie agreed. Well, your deployment won't be too long. Then we'll be together and we can continue our conversation from before you left.

Natalia snarled causing not only the Marines in the Pelican but also Mike to take a look. Of course he knew who she was serving with even if it was to be top secret. There were no secrets from Golf 51979. She couldn't believe her father had his own UNSC call sign. She also didn't want to continue the tired conversation about marriage. Everyone was pushing her to it. Time to push back.

You better watch what your writing MacKenzie. This is an open channel and that's classified information. You wouldn't want to tarnish that perfect reputation, she shot back, intending to wound.

It hit the mark. Sorry, I'm just concerned about you and this is an encrypted channel. I don't leave things to chance.

All right. Sorry too. I guess I'm just getting tense. Listen, we're about to land, I need to sign off.

Okay. No problem. I don't want to fight with you Tali. Call me when you get a chance, okay? I love you.

Thanks for understanding. Talk to you soon. Natalia let the message sit for a moment, wondering if she should add more. She knew what MacKenzie wanted to hear, deserved to hear really, but she couldn't do it. Hitting the send button Natalia immediately hit the 'end communications' key.

She winced as she shut down the datapad since she knew she'd hurt MacKenzie yet again. What was it with her? Why couldn't she give him what he wanted?

Her friends had had stingers in her honor at the club last night. How nice. Stinger. That was her nickname. She'd earned it for her speed in the boxing ring and ability to wear down an opponent with her jabs. She'd not had a knockout punch but would sting away, always coming out on top in the end. Get in fast, hit hard, get out, that had been her trademark. That had been the hallmark of her life too. A quick mind, fast-tracked through school then tops in her OCS class. Placed in a position of influence at ONI. No, she worked fast. She had a wasp tattooed on her shoulder, stinger out and ready to strike, as a symbol of it. A national champion in the boxing ring she'd also earned that nickname with the men in her life. Get in fast, hit hard, get out. She noticed Mike was looking at her though she couldn't read the expression on his impassive face. Natalia could feel her face reddening which made her angry anew. She was acting like a school girl. Was he judging her? Having pity on her? She didn't need that. Suddenly, he didn't seem so exciting after all.

Mike noticed the exchange though he'd tried not to. The attractive woman, he couldn't deny that truth, had cycled through a range of emotions during the course of her electronic conversation. He wondered who it had been with. Husband? Boyfriend? Likely, considering the emotion. He'd learned to read people quickly and be right. He needed that skill-set working alone as he did, needing to know who to trust and who to kill. Things weren't always as they appeared so he'd become good at drilling below the surface. There was definitely something about this woman that didn't add up. The equation was out of balance. She was confident to be sure, even cocky, but for a brief moment he saw a flash, like lightning in the sky of something. Vulnerability? Couldn't be. The eyes don't lie though. Something lay below the surface of this woman. He tried to clear his mind but it kept coming back to the enigma of Natalia Misriah until he found himself looking at her. She caught his gaze, reddened in the face, but held his look. Defiantly? Pleadingly?

He'd be glad when this assignment to Noble Team was done and he could go back to being a lone wolf. People were too complicated.