Somewhere beyond the edge of the Milky Way galaxy

UNSC converted Colony vessel ' UNSC Spirit of Fire '

Observation Deck. Laboratory of Professor Ellen Anders

38 local minutes after exiting cryo stasis

Ellen Anders hadn't had any coffee in over 20 years.

Considering that, it was nothing short of a miracle that with only slightly shaking hands, the xeno-science studies Professor poured out a Venti sized cup's worth of pure Turkish coffee (and speaking of miracles, said coffee was made of acutal beans ) out of the very long inert coffeemaker into her favorite kiln fired ceramic mug- one she'd received as a gift from fellow faculty during her tenure at Rishard University.

A gift that now seemed she'd recived over an entire lifetime ago.

The cascade of coffee reached the edge of the mug, and Ellen paused, for just a moment , to longingly gaze at how the steam rose in curling clouds. It was one of the things about drinking coffee that was, as Anders had always believed, nearly as enjoyable as actually having the liquid caffine run down her throat. Cofffee was a cultural drink, like tea, after all. It had to be savored and appriciated properly before you actually drank it.

20 years of being stuck in the freezer would make you want to revere it even more than it should be humanly possible. Anders needed to do this; after so long without caffine, she wasn't opperating at even half efficiency. Getting more of it into her had been the only thing on her mind from the second she'd lurched out of her cryo pod, ( which hadn't been the most pleasant expericne ever; she'd been shivering, badly disoriented, her skin was uncomfortably clammy and she was completley naked, as was required for entering cryo stasis ), to right at this moment.

Its been well past '" too long " ; its gone right to " coffee right now, or I collapse and never get up again ".

Finally, though, she reluctantly pulled herself away from enjoying the coffee's amazingly rich and powerful aroma, to then reach over to take one of the dairy creamer packets that were kept tucked into their basket near the coffeemaker's base.

Her fingers touched it, and that's when she realized it.

The packets were still there. They were right were they'd been , where she'd always kept them. For all those years, they'd been right there . 20 years.

Anders actually stopped trying to take one of the pakets for that. She pulled back, slowly, and then turned to take in the rest of her labratory.

Converted from the Spirit of Fire's observation deck, it was a large room, shaped like an iscoles triangle with its top cut off. Its walls, and floor, were all completely transparent, perfect for its original role. Some might've found it a little untsettling, with no meters of Titanium-A battle plate between them and the vaccum of space; instead, it seemed as if you were about to fall right through the deck at any moment, and into said vaccum.

That hadn't ever bothered Anders, and it still didn't. She loved this place as the location for her lab becasue of those seethrough wall and floor. It gave prespective to her work.

But now, standing in it again for the first moment in 20 years, she saw it in an addtional way:

It seemed like a tomb now. Like a mausoleum. Somewhere were someone had lived and worked in once, but not anymore, and then had sat empty and silent for year after year. Everything was still in its exact place; power cables and conduits snaking and winding across the floor, specimen and artifact containment chambers still standing on thier platforms, equipment tables placed at odd angles here and there, all of them piled with a myraid of scanning equipment, tools, salvaged gear, MRE boxes. All kinds of things that were hers.

And all of them, just there. Anders hadn't gotten around to organizing the place before she'd climbed into her cryo-pod all those decades ago. It really did seem like a tomb now, and looking around at all of it, actually taking it in-

Representation. That's what this is. Representation, of everything I had before I entered statis: a post on a warship on the edge of the galaxy, chasing legends of the Forerunners. Well, here I am now, and none of that has changed, for all the years that've gone by. Its all still the same

Except, for that Sergeant I was always teamed up with, who was more pirate than solider, but loyal to the UNSC to a fault. A warrior through and through.

As Anders thoughts turned to Forge, they in turn swung to how she'd felt about him. Truth be told, most of the days she'd known him, she considered him to be someone out of the stone age: bluntly aggressive, chest pounding machismo alpha male who never thought about planning or finesse, just clobbering through them instead.

Always so proud. Always so confident

Looking through backwards lens, though, now that she was out of stasis at last, Anders understood how wrong she'd been. Actually, she'd even realized that 20 years ago, but it'd only come to her right before she'd entered stasis, so it wasn't until now that she could think about it in depth.

And what she found shocked her. Anders all but forgot the coffee as her memories came rushing up.

I told myself I should avoid him. I tried to intereact with Forerunner technology that even I knew nothing about, and he tried to stop me, becasue he understood, before I did, how risky that might be. He was ready to go head to head with a Sanghelli that outweighed him by a hundred pounds just to save me. He faced and fought through an army of Flood, also just to save me.

He did a lot for me. Did I ever, let him know that ? Did I ?

Anders suddenly felt her a lump form in her throat. A small one, but it was there.

The scientist felt she had to sit down, and did, quickly moving to her padded desk chair, and lowering herself into it. All this while, her freshly made coffee sat hot nearby, steam still rising in slow, whispy trails.

Hot, real coffee. Just what Forge had asked for, when he and Anders had spoken the day he died.

Told me to keep the coffee hot. Said he'd be back soon.

She covered her motuh with the side of a fist, leaning into it, elbow braced on the edge of her chair. The coffee was just background now.

Anders didn't know what to think. That was a first for her.

" Am I disturbing you ? "

The unexpected baritone voice very nearly made Anders shriek out loud, which would've been very unlike her.

Especially considering the owner of that voice, was another career military man she knew: Captain James Cutter.

" I will take that as a yes ", the old(er) man remarked, noting Ander's lack of response. " Its allright; I'll leave you be then. "

" No, no, Captain, its fine. You just surprised me, that's all. "Finding her own voice, Anders quickly stood, and turned around to face the commander of the Spirit of Fire.

He was, as always when out walking the ship, in his well cared for officer's uniform, with gleaming gold captain's bars on his shoulders, deck boots nicely polished, and his M6C Magnum handgun sidearm, nestled in its hip holster. The skipper wasn't, however, wearing his cap, for once. Instead, it was tucked beneath one of his shoulder straps.

Still, otherwise, he was sill the Captain Cutter Anders knew. Not just another representation.

" Well, in that case, I thought I'd stop here as I and make sure you'd come through our long cruise while we were all asleep intact " Cutter told her. He nodded to the mug of coffee.

" Seems you've recovered already. Making coffee is only something you do when everything's back to normal. Roughly. "

Anders glanced at the coffee as well. The captain wasn't wrong; coffee was indeed something that belonged in a routine. Her routine. From her life, the way it'd been long before entering stasis, and after leaving it.

But, some of those in that life weren't there anymore, and that was bothering her. Cutter was sure to notice it.

She decided to speak first. She felt that she had to, not least becase this is what hse should've done before.

" Maybe so, sir, but its not the same without him. The ship, I mean. "

Anders bit her lower lip. Cutter's expression turned solemn. He remembered that as well as she did.

" I actually did plan to share a drink with him, you know. " Anders admitted. " Planned to make a mug of coffe for each of us, and had a real conversation over it. I wanted to do that. I wanted to try to get to know him "

She was unveiling some cat whisker senstive memories now. Gentleman as always, though, Cutter stood by, and let her talk. Anders was grateful for that.

This was getting harder, but she couldn't stop now. She didn't want to.

" I wanted to make sure he knew, that I was grateful that he'd risked everything to save me back on Harvest, and Arcadia, and on that Shield World. I wanted him to know I didn't think he was someone I couldn't stand. "

Cracks opened in her voice now, as she reached the end of what she had to say.

" And now, I never can. He's dead, Captain, and I can't stop thinking that there was something I could've done to stop that from happening ! He was a hero. He was a good man. He- "

Cutter's hand touched her shoulder. Ander's last few words stayed unspoken. But, then again, they both knew what they were.

She'd begun to fall for him. Slowly, yes, but that was the truth of it. Somehow, the dislike and annoyance she'd felt toward him had morphed into something else.

And that was just one side of it. Love aside, he'd fought to defend her. To rescue her. To finish a fight they'd both helped trigger. He'd been invested in the battle, and he'd kept at it to the bitter end.

His own end. What had gone to his death thinking ?

Anders didn't doubt she'd been there. It was how she'd appeared in his mind in his final moments that tormented her: Had everything been settled between them ?

Why hadn't she realized how important he was to her ? Now he was gone forever. There was no doubt about that. He was gone.

" He saw us all as his family, just I think of everyone here. As everyone does. " , the Captain reminded her. " But, I think he thought of you as someone, special. Different from the rest of us, in way I think only you and him could and would ever understand ".

Cutter had never spoken more truly.

It was all Anders could do to keep control of her emotions right then, biting her lower lip again, inhaling slighlty, and gazing down at her shoes.

" Th-thank you, sir " , was the most she could manage right then.

Cutter, graciously, found that enough.

" Come now "

He reached over, and lifted the mug of long ignored coffee, then held it out to her. Amazingly, it was still heated.

" I'll make another, and we'll drink to him. Forge will get a hero's send off, make no mistaske, but I think we knew him best. We should bid farewell to him our own way. Agreed ? "

All that did the trick.

Steadied, at least for the moment, Anders looked up at Cutter, and nodded firmly.

" Count me in, Sir. "

When you go home

Tell them for us, and say

For your tomorrow

We gave our today