Disclaimers: Halo, and all of its concepts, belong to 343 Industries. Bleach is licensed by Viz Media and I did NOT create the Bleach and Halo universes or any canonical characters.
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I opened my eyes to a frosted pane of hardened plexiglas. Warmth spread throughout my body, with a feeling of numbness coming soon after. I spent the next minute slowly flexing my muscles to wake them up. Once I was fully thawed out, a buzzer sounded outside and the cryogenic pod opened up. I stepped out into one of the many cryo chambers of the United Nations Space Corporation Colony ship Kaitakusha. Around me were dozens of men and women who had thawed out along with me, and we all began to head to the nearby locker room to get dressed.
As the UNSC Marines put on their shipboard uniforms, they filled the room with the banter usually associated with the leathernecks. They traded insults with themselves and the squad of elite Orbital Drop Shock Troopers who were in cryo as well. Jovial laughter and smiles could be heard and seen everywhere I looked, and I couldn't blame any of them for the uplifting mood.
Four months ago, humanity was as close to extinction as it could possibly get. The statistics read at over 20 billion dead and over 800 colonies destroyed utterly after 27 years of war against the alien conglomerate known as the Covenant. Thanks to the efforts of the UNSC's Army, Navy, and Marine Corps, the Office of Naval Intelligence, the near-wholesale sacrifice of the Spartans, and some last-minute help from alien separatists, humanity had effectively crippled the Covenant war machine. Now it was time for humanity to rebuild.
For Battlegroup Kaitakusha, it was time to mop up the leftovers of the alien empire.
I did not partake in any discussion, so I dressed much faster than many of the soldiers and left the locker room to head for the nearest mess hall. A month on this repurposed colony ship had me memorize most of its layout, and a few minutes of a dozen of seemingly random turns and elevator rides found me walking into the front-most mess hall on the ship. It was populated and noisy already, but the buffet dominating one side of the large room was still fully stocked with a variety of foods. I took the advantage of being ahead of the pack and quickly grabbed a metal tray to start piling breakfast onto.
Once I stuffed my tray to the brim with eggs, orange juice, and some fruit, I scanned the many rows of steel tables to find a suitable, and preferably remote seat. I began to walk along one of the walls, hoping to find one of the nicer booths with cushioned seats open. Lucky Marines gave me smiles and nods while ODSTs gave me steely glares as I passed their filled booths. Looking further down I saw a couple of completely empty ones, and I quickened my pace to guarantee myself a spot. I was just about there when I heard a woman announce from the last occupied booth,
"Well look who just walked out of cryo."
I stopped and looked over, and seated in the booth were five peculiar-looking people. The first observation I made was that their uniforms were different from the Marines, ODSTs, and crewmen; theirs were an eye-catching white with black accents. The very next fact was that they all had paled skin. It was obvious that these two men and three women haven't seen any natural sunlight for a long time.
'Just like us. Could that mean? No...'
I turned to face them fully, looking over each of the young soldiers.
"Who are you?"
The man closest to me slid out of the booth and stood up. He was almost as tall as me, and I was just under two meters in height. He offered his hand to me, and after setting my tray down on their table I took it.
"Heffman." he told me as we shook. "Sierra-G314."
I hesitated out of surprise before responding, "Sean, Sierra-B094."
Heffman's amber eyes lit up. "Beta Company? I thought only Tom and Lucy made it out of Pegasi."
Our hands separated and I found myself looking at the young woman who called me out. She looked familiar. "Well, I had to make a detour that lasted seven years."
"Damn," muttered Heffman, "I take it you were too busy to come back to Onyx and train the rest of us?"
"Yes." I answered. 'That and I don't think we'd be any good training others.'
"I see." said Heffman. He then gestured to the table. "Care to sit with us? It's rare we can talk to a Spartan not from Gamma." The other man and the familiar woman slid further in to give me room. I took the chance and said, "Sure." before sliding into the now filled booth.
Before I started eating, I asked, "When did you get here?"
"A few days ago," answered Heffman, "Before the battlegroup left for this one mission. You were probably in cryo already, and it looks like we came out of the ice boxes a few minutes before you."
"Which reminds me: allow me to introduce Team Claymore." he said, and he gestured to the two women sitting next to him. "This is Emily, our marksman. Next to her is Hitomi with heavy weapons." Emily nodded to me, her brown eyes only glancing at me before moving on. Hitomi gave me a nod and a slight smile.
"Next to you is our demoman, Hassan, and I believe you've already met our close quarters specialist."
Hessan swallowed his bacon before saying, "Nice to meet another Spartan. I remember Kate talking a lot about you."
"I'm right here." stated the last Spartan. Without hesitating, Hassan turned to the Aryan woman.
"Yes, and?"
Kate sighed, before leaning forward to look past her grinning squadmate. "It's been a while. Nice to see you're still alive."
I nodded at the compliment. "And look at you: a Spartan. A big step up from when I found you."
Kate stared for a moment, her expression black, before looking down at her breakfast. To keep a conversation going, I turned to Heffman, who had just taken a bite out of his toast.
"Any idea why they pulled us out of cryo, before I get the official briefing?"
The Spartan washed his food down with water before answering. "We're hitting a Covenant research station soon. ONI wants whatever they have in there, so they're going to have us go in and purge it."
"Any details?"
"The place used to be a refueling station for their ships, but it was converted a year or so ago. We've got blueprints and everything besides troop numbers and what they've been researching recently. My team is securing a hanger and then assisting in blowing past any choke points around the station. High Com didn't mention you so I guess you'll be doing something special."
'We're always doing something really special for ONI, I'm not surprised.' "Thanks for the heads up." I said as I began to pick apart the pile of cantaloupe on my plate.
'At least you're working somewhat with fellow Spartans.'
'And it sounds like an easy mission, with all the info we've been given.'
I paused in consumption as I wondered about that last though, before looking back up at Heffman. "How did we get blueprints of the place?"
"Elites." answered not Heffman, but Emily. I looked to her, and her eyes were locked onto something far off. I, along with the rest of Claymore, turned to witness six tall, leathery-skinned, open-mouthed alien enter the mess hall. I had to stop myself from moving out of the booth to find better cover.
The Elites left the Covenant when their leaders, the Prophets, betrayed them and sicced their more loyal species known as the Brutes on them. I remember seeing this civil war first-hand on my last assignment, and I was dumbfounded when the aliens started fighting each other.
Now the news was out that we had a relatively stable alliance with the Elites and other species that defected with them.
'But Elites, in blue fatigues, on our ship?'
'Fuckin' 'ell.'
"When did they come aboard?" I asked to no one in particular.
Hitomi answered this time. "They boarded the same time we did. I saw them in the hangar, but never since."
The gators stalked over to the queue by the buffet. The last Marine in line somehow had no idea that a two-and-a-half meter tall alien was towering over him. His mates noticed and, while a couple were staring, others snickered, prompting the kid to turn around quizzically.
I heard the expletive and the ensuing laughter all the way from across the noisy cafeteria. The Elite that was behind the Marine laughed as well, its deep, guttural voice sending a chill down my spine.
The other Spartans and I watched for the next five minutes as the Elites went down the line and eventually began gathering food. Most of their selection was meat, and one of them balanced two heaping trays of breakfast burritos on its talon-like hands. Once the five gators accumulated an amount of food that would last me for weeks, they all began searching for a place to sit.
My heart rate started picking up when I realized they were using the same route I used.
"Don't come over here." I muttered under my breath, and I tried to ignore the approaching xenos by slowly and methodically finishing up my food. Team Claymore followed my example.
It was to no avail, and I saw these massive black and blue forms stop in my peripheral vision.
"Do my eyes deceive me, Shal?" I heard one say with mock surprise.
"No, Trow, I see them as well." I heard another answer in amusement. I kept looking at my scraps and lazily worked at those. I then heard the shuffling of a pair of large, two-toed feet. "I believe we have a batch of Demons here, brothers."
"Heh, for masters of war, it is too easy to spot them." yet another dino uttered.
I glanced up, and was early enough to see Heffman quickly raise his head to meet the gazes of the group.
"If you have something to say, then say it."
It was then that I realized the entire room was silent. It was clear that everyone in the mess hall was watching.
'Who wouldn't? A Spartan is having a staredown with an Elite.'
'Should we join in?'
'Yes. Support Heffman.'
I looked up and met the gazes of beings that I have fought against for years. Four of them had that youthful sparkle in their eyes that I have seen in so many Minors and Majors. Most of those Minors and Majors were dead now.
The second closest Elite, most likely Trow, appeared much more experienced. Its skin had a lighter luster than the others, with some dark-grey splotches that surrounded varying shapes of scars. Its dark-brown eyes were cold and calculating, and when it looked at me it was as if it was watching from a dark corner, looking me over and waiting for a chance.
"Now I have not seen this one before."
I looked up to the closest one to me, and I could see the sense of superiority in its indigo eyes. The situation amused it, and it took no effort into hiding that feeling.
'Pompous S.O.B.'
We stared at each other for a few seconds, the tension building, before the Elite suddenly realized something. "Ah, you are the one with experience, here to teach the ones who have just emerged from the common room."
"No." I stated. There was a pause as I took in a breath. "These individuals are highly skilled and trained, and I am not here to teach them."
"Oh? My mistake, then." The way its mandibles were positioned told me it was doing the Elite equivalent of a grin. "I am rather quick to judge. I wonder, though." The Elite looked to Heffman. "Have you been in any actual combat?"
I looked to Heffman. His jaw was tense and his stare was boring through the Sangheili's skull.
"No." came the answer, flat in tone.
The Elite inhaled, slow and deep. "I see." Without another word, it turned to the others and uttered something in their own language. The five Elites laughed in varying degrees, and the group moved on to sit down and have their morning fill.
I didn't turn to look after them, allowing Emily to do that. Instead, I looked to Heffman, who I could tell was trying to keep a straight face. His eyes looked onto my own, a sense of embarrassment about them.
"Assholes, the lot of them." I thought out loud, looking to the rest of Claymore. Heffman let out the breath he was holding, and everyone else nodded in agreement.
"I bet they were like this when you fought them." said Hassan.
"Oh they were." I affirmed, resting my head in my hand and using my thumb to rub my temple. "It helped immensely at times, but now we're sharing a ship with them, apparently."
"I'll look into it." said Hitomi, audibly annoyed as much as the rest of us. "This is either some really messed up exchange program, or we were forced to house a bunch of volunteers."
"My guess is volunteers." I added as I looked at my watch. I had fifteen minutes to get over the briefing room. If I upped the pace I could make it. "Sorry, but I have a briefing to get to." I downed the rest of my pulpy orange juice and slid out of the booth.
"Heffman, Claymore." I told them as I grabbed my tray. "I wish you luck."
"You too, Spartan." responded Heffman, and I glanced over to where the Elites were sitting before I discarded my tray and left the mess hall.
That one Elite, Trow I believed, was staring at me even before I looked over there. I could have only guessed how long it had its eyes on me.
AN: I should have done this a long time ago, but here it is: a revised beginning. It should be an improvement, and after tending to one of, if not the most important part of the story, I'll get back to continuing where I left off.
