The prayer hall of the massive capital ship was filled to the brim; it went beyond standing room only. Unggoy were pressed against each other, looking like a can of small fish instead of the rank and file of the Covenant, staying with their own kind and far from the Kig-Yar. But whenever some unfortunate Unggoy bumped against them, the Kig-Yar would snap at them, especially if it was a female the Unggoy bothered.

Both of the species occupied the far end of the cavernous hall, although they easily counted for half the population in not only the hall but also the ship and the fleet. Standing closer to the pulpit were the ever-loyal Sangheili and the ruthless Jiralhanae. Both species had feuds that went back centuries, and the only way to keep them in the prayer hall without blood being spilt was to have them stand side-by-side, so neither was closer to the pulpit. Even then, glares were shot across the five-meter gap that stood between the two species. The peace held, but barely.

The new Prophet of Truth, settled deep in his gravity throne, cleared his throat. All idle chatter died as his voice was projected across the hall, and the fleet. Drones hovered in front of him, relaying his image and voice to the many ships in his armada.

"Behold, brothers," he began, spreading his arms wide, "after so many years of bickering, of in-fighting, of proving our worth to all and yet to none, and after being so callously rejected, we are about to embark on the Great Journey.

"The Age of Strife is at an end! No longer will we cower in darkness, fighting over scraps of the former glory of the Covenant. For we have emerged from the shadows reborn, re-forged and with our purpose renewed in our collective beating hearts. We are about to embark on the Journey that will see us reunited with the Forerunners! We shall take their place in the Heavens as rulers of the immaterial realms! For that, we must rejoice!"

The hall was filled with cheers, the air shattered with the pounding of breastplates and the ground shaken by stomps. The Prophet of Truth relished in it, his senior staff behind him ever adding their voices and cheers to the beast of sound.

"But we cannot forget where we came from, what hardships we endured," he said, calling for quiet. It was quickly granted. "For our struggles define us, our grudges give us blessed hatred and drive to right those wrongs. We cannot forget the Great Schism, or our traitorous brothers who stood with the enemy, against us, ruining our ascension. Nor can we forget the Demons that hunted us, pressed us and shattered our resolve."

At the mention of the Demons, growls of hatred simmered.

"But we shall no longer need to fear them," Truth said, "for we stand united! Now, for the first time in generations! We no longer attack each other, battling for petty titles or cheapened ranks. We stand united, and all, even the Demons, shall tremble before our wrath. This time, brothers and sisters, we shall not be denied. The forces of the sinners, even with their Demon armies, could not possibly stand before us, the righteous. The path of the Great Journey is hard, but the rewards are worth it. The path long, but wide for all who wish to walk it. The path is long, but we are at the end of it!"

Truth was deafened by the cheers.

"And we shall see the end of it!" He yelled over the crowd. "We shall assume our place in the Heavens, and punish the wicked with the might of the Forerunners themselves! Now, today, we shall claim our divine right. For it is our destiny, as outlined by the Forerunners and their relics. So cheer, so pray, so devote yourselves! For soon we shall all be gods!"

Truth let the masses in the hall cheer. He let them scream. He let them devote themselves wholly, body and soul, to the Covenant again. They needed the strength to start the Great Journey. He floated away from the pulpit, towards the door to his chambers. Ful 'Theesnam, the Sangheili Fleet Master, was the only one to follow him. Ful was a master combatant and a spirited leader. He had his uses, but Truth's skin crawled when he was forced to admit that Ful was is equal. He was the Prophet of Truth, after all; none should ever be equal to him.

"An excellent speech, great Prophet," Ful said.

"I know it was an excellent speech," Truth said. "The Covenant need fire in their hearts, anger in their veins. We have vermin to kill, and when we have to kill vermin, it is best to do it with hate."

"Of course," Ful said. The screaming from the prayer hall died as they walked further into the ship, further to the deepest part of the Holy Crusade, Truth's newly built capital ship. "The Blessed Relic should be thrilled with our army."

"Of course he shall," Truth spat. "He will be joining his masters soon. What loyal servant of the Forerunners would not be ecstatic?"

Ful bristled but didn't growl his displeasure. Like any good Sangheili, he knew his place. Finally, the long corridor ended, and Truth waved the doors open. Inside were his chambers, larger than most command bridges and as ornate as any house of worship.

"Holy Salvis, we have need of your wise counsel," Truth said as he floated into his chambers.

"Yes, yes, yes, strategies to plot, sales to plan," the Forerunner artifact said, floating towards the duo. It was a misshapen metal sphere with a light red, cracked optical eye. Metal phalanges lifted and swayed on their own personal gravities as the relic dipped and dove in the air. Ful knelt while Truth prostrated himself before the Forerunner artificial intelligence. "Oh, please, none of that. We have no time to waste with such formalities, the Flood shall be coming soon, and we must retire them."

"Of course," Truth said.

"Have you received our latest reports?" Ful asked, rising from his knees.

"Indeed. We have a very sizable force ready to drive out," Salvis said. "I find it most interesting that all know basic Containment Protocol. Most interesting, but a great added bargain. The Flood must be stopped, as they were before."

"Do you have any recommendations for how to deal with the humans?" Ful asked.

"Indeed I do!" The tiny machine said cheerfully, spinning on its axis. "This 'humanity' that you refer to seem to be quite the tough customer. But it shall be no matter. They are a customer, regardless of toughness, and what do all customers want?"

"Please, enlighten us," Truth said with as much patience as he could muster. The relic was want to scatterbrained rants, and the longer it took to wring an answer out of it, the longer their wait would be to start the Great Journey.

"They want to be sold something," Salvis chuckled. "They might walk into a store idly, wondering what brought them there, but deep down inside their brains, they know they want to buy something. That is where I come in. I find them the item they want to purchase, often without them knowing it, and I make them buy it. It is what I excel at."

"Your talents are well known," Truth said, "if you could enlighten us with your plans for the Great Journey?"

"Oh, my plants for containment protocol are a work of art. I have truly outdone myself," Salvis said. "Mr. Ful, I have a question for you."

"Anything, holy Relic," Ful said, bowing. Truth's skin crawled again. The relic was choosing to speak to Ful and not him?

"Are there any of your brethren here that are loyal to the Sangheilios nation?"

"There are a few traitors and spies, yes," Ful spat.

"Good. Give them a brief outline of your sales pitch and release them."

"What?" Ful roared.

"I want you to release them, along with an elevator pitch of our plans," Salvis said, carefully repeating itself. "Was I unclear?"

"Holy Relic, they are traitors! They deserve death, not a pardon!"

"Holy Relic, I urge you to reconsider," Truth said.

"We're having a massive sale. We must get word out, even a rough advertisement or word-of-mouth would do," Salvis said. "No one could resist a sale happening near their home."

"So you mean to let our enemies know what we are planning?" Ful sputtered, spit flying from his four jaws.

"Yes, at least a little," Salvis replied. "A good salesman advertises a few key, big-budget items, something to draw people in. And once they are in the store, we pepper them with tiny sales items, things they don't have an will never need, but when they see the sales tickets, they start thinking, 'hmmm, maybe I do need a juicer in my life. That bookshelf does look nice, and it's on sale, too! Twenty-five percent off? Yes, please!'"

The little relic floated this way and that as it prattled on and on.

"You expect our enemies to behave as wealthy landowners looking to spend money?" Truth demanded.

"No, the Relic speaks wisely," Ful said. "We let them know where we strike, but not with how many troops, or of what kind, or what our aim is. We will be coming to them, but with so little information, they will metaphorically come to us."

"Precisely!" Salvis said, spinning again. "Their guard will be down, their purse strings undone, and us waiting to help relieve them of money."

"Their lines will be ragged," Ful said. "They will never know where the bulk of our army will attack. They might over-commit to one theater of war and under-commit elsewhere. We will not be charging into a well-kept defensive line, but rather a hastily planned defensive stance."

"No need to be impressed," the relic said.

"Are you sure such a thing would work?" Truth asked.

"Of course it will!" Salvis shouted, suddenly rounding on Truth, the cracked optic blazing a deep, blood red. "All my sales are profitable! Need I remind you how much you benefited from my sales techniques? When you released me from that buried shopping center, what were you?" The ancient AI trust itself into Truth's face. He hit his gravity throne's controller, trying to move backwards, only to be advanced upon again. Soon he was backed against the wall.

"Alone, weak, the ruler of only a small, backwater mom-and-pop store, barely able to make ends meet! Leaking money like a sieve, couldn't plan a sale to save their life!" Salvis turned on Ful, who fell to his knees again. "And you, such an incompetent store manager! You could sell, but only when the customer asked for it, when they laid themselves bare, asking you where they should put their money! I made you see the big picture, made both of you run in the black for the first time in years! I made that mom-and-pop store into the biggest chain retailer in all the worlds!"

"Hold, blessed Salvis," Ful said, head pressed nearly into the floor. "You have filled our lives with blessings, and we are still reaping the rewards. Please, hold your temper, and we shall do you bidding."

Salvis floated from Ful to Truth to back to Ful again, they eye blazing that deep, pulsating red. Then the red turned to a light pink, and it floated upright again.

"Good," Salvis said in a cheerful voice. "Then let us not waste any more time. Time is money, and money is no good when the Flood come around. We must contain them, we must fire the array once more."

"We must assume our place in the Heavens as gods," Truth said.

"Yes, yes, yes, sure, whatever you say my dear CEO. Whatever you say. Now, come close and do exactly what I tell you."

Truth floated to Salvis, while Ful repositioned his kneeling self closer to the AI, and the holy relic spoke wisdom for them to lap up again.

Kelly felt like a million bucks. The massage has unkinked anything and everything. She was so fluid it felt like she was twenty years younger. Well, twenty years younger before she was frozen. It was strange to think that she was technically over two-hundred years old now.

They had changed into crisp new uniforms, each with the rank of general, and were lead down to a subterranean firing range.

"Place seems pretty nice," she said. It was huge, easily the size of the ranges on Reach, and it all seemed incredibly new.

"We refurbish them every five to ten years," Madani said. Like them, he wore a simple, unadorned dress uniform that only showed his rank. Spartans attended to attract medals like a magnet; Kelly figured that no one bothered with them unless it was a parade they were attending. Just as they used to do when they were soldiers. It made her itch, thinking about suiting up and fighting another war. "Well, let's get started, shall we? Tyler?"

Another Spartan walked in, this time pushing what seemed to be a large mannequin. A black sheet covered it, but Kelly could make out the head and arms.

"This is Tyler, my partner," Madani said. "He is also the Lieutenant-General of the Armory. He was in charge of the latest armor redesign."

"It's an honor to meet you all," Tyler said, pausing to snap a crisp salute to everyone. Kelly snapped one back before he could finish the salute. Good, she was still fast.

"I'll get this set up in a second," Tyler said, moving the covered mannequin to the middle of the range. He pulled off the black sheet, and Kelly couldn't help but whistle.

While their Mjolnir armor was massive, with large armor sections, this new Mjolnir was thin, skeletal even. There were no true armor plates over the body, instead it just had sections, strips along the outside of the arms and legs, and the torso portion seemed to be modeled after a ribcage. Under the armor was the black hydrostatic gel suit that went under their armor, and that didn't change at all. It was very sleek, yes, but it didn't look like it could stop a knife, let alone a bullet.

"Pretty, but it doesn't seem very strong," Linda said.

"Things have changed over the past hundred years," Tyler said. He pulled out a PDA and tapped a button. The shields popped into existence, but not like Mjolnir shields that flowed to life like they water was running down them. These shields were suddenly, violently, there, and they popped into existence with plenty of jagged edges and sharp angles. If Kelly blinked at the wrong time, she could have easily missed them being turned on. And once they were on, they faded into the background, like the old shields used to do.

"Okay, that was interesting," Naomi said.

Tyler grinned and pulled out a plasma grenade. Kelly stared as he triggered it and slapped it to the suit. The grenade burned radiantly bright as he walked away, and whined before it exploded into a blue fireball. Kelly shielded her eyes, only to have them nearly bulge out of their sockets when the dust cleared. The armor was still there, the mannequin not even remotely damaged. Instead, the shields shined a bright orange, blocky and angular, not at all like the shields of old.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Hrunting Mark VI armor," Tyler said, waving majestically.

"What happened to Mjolnir?" Fred asked.

"The defining characteristic of Mjolnir was the shields," Tyler said. "When we perfected a new shield design, we decided that we couldn't keep giving it sub-names, it was its own armor now."

"Keeping with tradition and naming things after folklore, huh?" Naomi said.

"We're suckers for it," Madani said.

"We really are," Tyler agreed. "We already used Excalibur and Armads for previous names, so we decided to go with Beowulf this time."

"His heroic sword," Linda said. "I like it."

"Thank you. Our shield breakthrough was fueled by reverse-engineered Forerunner tech. Those aren't energy shields, like what the Covenant used, but rather hard light shields, which used to be pure Forerunner tech."

"Does the UNSC have access to this tech?" Fred asked.

"They do, but not on this miniature scale," Tyler said. "We have a crack team of scientists, Spartan and civilian, working on this. And, as a military nation, we can give them more money per capita than the UNSC. At the expense of getting bitched at by the civilians, but that's another story."

"Why would the civilians bitch?" Kelly asked.

"It's a long story, so here's the short version. Most governments are civilian based with a military attachment; we're military based with a civilian attachment. They pay a lot of bills, and they don't like it. Leads to a lot of friction every year around tax time."

"It's very impressive," Fred said. "But I see a suit. Where's the armor?"

The civilians laughed. Even Madani and Tyler cracked a smile, the most emotion a Spartan was prone to.

"The shields are strong enough to repel nearly all small-arms fire," Tyler said. "But we agree, they're still not invincible. If they were, it would only be a matter of time before someone developed a weapon that could punch through the shields. Despite that, we figured that because of the shield strength, we could roll back on the actual armor. It cuts back on costs while still providing maximum protection."

"What about plasma pistols? Can they still overload the shields?" Kelly asked.

"Technically no. Hard light tech offers more physical control over the shields; we found that with the Mark IV armor that we can create shield layers. What you're actually seeing is four separate layers of hard light shields, not just one.

"An overloaded plasma pistol can still knock out a shield layer or two, but we have two more layers for them to penetrate. So this gives the illusion that Spartans can take a plasma pistol to the face and keep on attacking. It's great for breaking enemy morale."

"Is there a way to fully penetrate the shields in one go?" Linda asked.

"Sniper rifles and heavy weapons," Tyler and Madani said as one.

"Hard light shields are strong, but brittle," Tyler continued. "If there is too much fragmentation thrown up, like from a rocket launcher, it can tear away shield layers like tissue paper."

"And sniper rifles are sniper rifles," Madani said. "They're made to punch through armor from a mile away, they tear right through the shields."

"Good," Linda said.

"Why is it good?"

"Because the sniper rifle is still wickedly powerful, that's why."

"Ignore her, she just likes her sniper rifles," Fred said.

"That's what she's famous for," Tyler said with a shrug. "Would you like to get suited up?"

"Took you long enough to offer," Kelly said, stepping forward.

"Follow us to the armory and we'll get you suited," Madani said.

"Are there any more tricks that these things can do?" Fred asked as they walked out.

"Just a few, but you'll like them," Tyler said. "Because the battlefield is constantly changing, we built in some flexibility to the armor. You can reallocate the power to different components. You can't tell it from looking, but the servos that run the armor are just as powerful as the suits you knew. More so, actually. So if you're in a situation where you need more power from the servos, you can reduce power to the shields and give that power to the servos."

"That sounds neat."

"It's helped us when fighting Brutes," Madani said.

"Isn't that a faux pas, calling them their slang names?" Linda asked.

"Technically it is, but we're at war with them, so it's okay," Madani said. Linda snorted.

"The shields draw a lot of power, so be careful how you reallocate it," Tyler said. "You can reallocate one layer of shielding to the servos, but any more and you risk burning them out. Of course, it can work the other way around, too. You can kill power to the servos and use it to beef up the shields."

"Draw power from the servos?" Kelly said. "Won't that make the whole thing collapse? It does weigh half a ton."

"The old Mark V, maybe, but not Hrunting," Tyler grinned. "Our armor weight a quarter of that, only 250 pounds, most of it being the warm fusion reactor. This was another reason why we decided to cut down on the armor, it saves weight. You can turn off the servos and still be able to move."

"Okay, I'm impressed," Kelly said, laughing. She was getting really giddy now. If the armor weighed a fourth of her old armor, that would mean that she could run even faster now.

"We aim to please," Tyler said. "You can also subvert the power to armor abilities, boosting them."

"Armor abilities?" Linda asked.

"Right, that was a little after you," Tyler said. "The UNSC found a way to create modular abilities to add to the armor of the Spartan IVs, and they called them armor abilities. They were able to create a cloaking device, an armor locking module to supercharge the shields, a jetpack and a hologram of the user. We have our own abilities, reverse engineered of course, and you can reallocate the shield power to augment the abilities."

"I like the sound of a cloaking device," Linda said.

"We figured you'd like to play with that. Is there anything else you'd like to see?" Madani asked.

"Maybe a quick tour of Sparta," Fred said. "I'd like to see how much things have changed."

"I'd love to show you around, but sadly, I'm on a tight schedule," Madani said. "I'm sure you can understand."

"Now you know why I hated my job," Fred said.

"All too well," Madani said. "I'll assign an aide to you. She'll show you around, help you adapt to everything, answer questions, etcetera, etcetera."

"Guess that'll have to do for now," Fred said. "Let's get our suits."

"Excellent. Mary, you can step out from behind everyone."

Kelly turned around. A thin, black haired Spartan woman stepped out from behind the doctors and aides. It seemed she was trying her best to blend in, and until she stepped out, she did a good job of it. She clutched a data slate to her side, her fingers white from grabbing it. She snapped a salute.

"Y-yes sir," she said. "Corporal Mary, SPARTAN-876. I'm at your service."

"I'll leave you in her capable hands," Madani said. "She can put us in contact if you need anything." Madani and Tyler took a turn and walked down the hall. Mary ran forward to lead them to the armory.

"The General was being kind," she said. "I'm not much, but I'll do my best to help you."

"I've never met a Spartan who didn't give their all. I'm sure you'll be fine," Fred said to Mary. "Can you give us a quick tour once we get suited up?"

"Yes sir, I will. Doctors, do they have a clean bill of health?"

"They seem to check out," Fred's doctor said. "Our light scans don't show any tears or breaks in muscles, bones or ligaments, and they seem to have shaken off the worst of the freezer burn."

"When did you scan us?" Naomi asked.

"Handheld scanners." The doctor held up a coaster-sized device. "We've been scanning you since you've woken up. Sorry for the invasion of privacy, but we had to make sure that you woke up just fine."

"No problem," Kelly said. "I'd hate to wake up a drooling idiot."

"That would certainly be a worst-case scenario."

"And the AIs gave them a clean bill of health," Mary said. "We're good for your tour."

"You had AIs looking after us?" Linda asked.

"Of course. You're the founding Generals of Sparta, we take care of our own," Mary said. "Tracy? Would you like to say something?"

"If you wouldn't mind," a tuneful voice said. Light shimmered and a shelf of books appeared by Linda, keeping pace with them as they walked. "Hello. I'm Tracy, Mary's assistant and one of the AIs assigned to your rather brief rehabilitation."

"Nice to meet you, Tracy," Naomi said. "If I may, I haven't seen an AI that didn't pick a human avatar in quite some time. What's the significance of your avatar?"

"Thank you for asking. I was designed to help with data categorization. It seemed like a librarian job, so I picked an avatar that represented the files that I organized." A few of the books of Tracy's avatar floated off the shelf and rearranged themselves.

"It's nice. I'm glad we have Smart AIs looking after us."

"Always a pleasure to have our work recognized. Many of us do work that keeps Sparta up and running, and thanks is always appreciated."

"We still do plenty of work though," Mary said. "Here is the armory."

"Good. Let's see how many Spartans decided to join us," Kelly said, walking into the armory. She was expecting maybe a couple dozen, but there seemed to be several dozen. "Whoa."

"Cryopods became a popular alternative to serving out the remainder of their services," Mary said. "We have over eight hundred Spartans in the cryobanks."

"Guess they found out about our easy retirement plan," Fred said, looking at the Spartans. They were all changing into the black hydrostatic gel suit, and many were attaching pieces of their armor. One looked up and dropped their armor segment, standing ramrod straight.

"Generals on deck!" Everyone dropped what they were doing and stood at rigid attention. Kelly returned the salute.

"At ease," Fred said. Kelly could hear that he was put off guard by the number of Spartans he saw. All the Spartans stood at ease.

"Maybe they need a speech," Kelly said. Fred sighed and stepped forward.

"I assume everyone knows who I am," he said. The Spartans chuckled. "Figured as much. Well, I don't know much about this world, how much has changed and where the straws have fallen. But I do know that Kelly, Linda, Naomi and I were woken up because of a damn serious threat to us, humanity and the UNSC. So I plan on going out there, finding out what is threatening us, and blasting it back to hell so I can go back to my easy retirement.

"Many of you were frozen knowing that we might need help with whatever problem reared its head in the future, and I was never one to turn down help. Your service here is welcome, and I thank you for choosing to join us. So let's get suited up and go fix whatever was broken."

"Yes, sir," the roomful of Spartans shouted. As one, they saluted and went back to suiting up in their armor.

"Better find my armor," Fred mumbled. "Where are they keeping our stuff?"

"Over there, sir," Mary said hastily, pointing to the front of the armory. Kelly saw one Spartan approaching them from the side of the armory.

"I'll catch up with you," she said and turned to the approaching Spartan. "Cameron, nice to see you again."

"It's good to see you too, ma'am," Cameron said, easily saluting.

"You got older," Kelly said, returning the salute. Cameron had gotten older. Age lines ringed her face, and her hair seemed to be thinning a little, but that didn't stop her from fidgeting with it, combing it with her fingers once she dropped her salute.

"Happens to the best of us," Cameron said. She realized she was playing with her hair, and she dropped her arms to the side.

"I'm a little surprised that you decided to freeze yourself," Kelly said. "Figured you would have kept on soldiering."

"Anna and I decided together," Cameron said. "We figured we could do more good on ice than in the ground, so we got ourselves frozen fifteen years after you."

"You partnered up with Anna? I thought Anna didn't like partners."

"We decided a year after Circumstances," Cameron said. She couldn't keep the twinge of guilt from her eyes. Kelly remembered seeing her as she recovered. Cameron lost her partner, Bridget, at Circumstances, along with twenty-eight of the men under her command and nearly herself.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Mary said, saluting to Cameron. "But…but you're Petty Chief Officer Cameron, correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"It's an honor to meet you, ma'am," Mary babbled. She grabbed her hand to shake it. "Every Spartan studies your strategy of the First Battle of Circumstances."

"As a major defeat?" Cameron asked. Kelly noticed her pained expression, but Mary either missed it, or was too unfamiliar with her to know.

"Quite the opposite, it's a brilliant tactic that saved the lives of billions and brought the Covenant to—"

"You'll forgive me, but I don't like talking about Circumstances," Cameron said. Kelly could see her eyes water and her breathing deepen. She never got over her shell shock.

"I understand. Forgive me, but I always wanted to talk to you," Mary said, blushing as if she insulted Cameron.

"It's fine," she said. "It's…just a bad memory."

"That's understandable. I'll…I'll let you get back to getting into your armor."

"Wait," Cameron said. "You said it was the 'First Battle of Circumstances.' Was there a second? Third?"

"There were four battles for Circumstances," Mary said. "But the First was the largest, scale wise. It was the last hurrah for the old Covenant group, and you broke their backs. After their defeat, they retreated back into their territory and fell apart. Every battle after that was more of a glorified raiding party, as opposed to an actual enemy movement."

"That's good," Cameron said. She heaved a sigh of relief. "Were there any major casualties?"

"Only a few. Cumulatively, at least."

"Good." Cameron smiled. She saluted. "Thank you for answering my questions."

"It was the least I could do," Mary said, enthusiastically returning the salute.

"Think you're up to this?" Kelly asked Cameron.

"I don't think so, but it's what I signed on for," Cameron said.

"You're playing with your hair again," Kelly said.

Cameron forcefully put her hand to her side. "Thank you, ma'am. I'll let you suit up. I hear we got work to do."

"That we do, Petty Officer. I look forward to seeing Anna when she's most available."

Cameron saluted and walked off. Kelly found Fred and Linda near the front of armory with two Spartan technicians to help them put their armor on. Mary followed her, two steps behind her.

"Fancy," she said, opening the locker. Inside, the hydrostatic gel layer was hanging from a hanger, and the armor segments were nestled on shelves according to their position on her body.

"We spare no expenses on our men," Mary said. For once, she spoke with certainty in her voice.

"There were funds set up for Spartans when they were frozen," Tracy said, winking into existence.

"And we're glad to see it," Linda said as a mechanic helped her put the breastplate on.

"You haven't played with our armor abilities yet, either," Tracy said, mischief in her voice. "We'll give you some acclimation time as we move out."

"You liking the new armor? I know I am."

Kelly's blood froze. She, Fred and Linda jerked up as if ice was dumped down their backs. Ted sauntered over in brand-new armor, a grin on his face.

"What the hell is he doing up?" Fred demanded.

"What do you mean?" Mary said.

"Corporal, I order you to restrain this man," Fred said, pointing to Ted.

"What? Why?" A few Spartans looked up to see what the commotion was.

"Come on, General, I just woke up," Ted said. "I have as much right to be here as you do."

"Like hell," Fred spat. "Corporal Mary, restrain him."

"Why? What has he done?" Mary asked, flustered despite herself.

"Fred here just never really liked me," Ted said.

"That's because you're out of your damned mind," Kelly said.

"What is going on here?" Madani said, walking from across the room. "Could someone fill me in?"

"Ted is a psychopath and he shouldn't even be unfrozen," Linda said.

"A psychopath? We don't have a file on Theodore. We only know he requested a suicide mission upon being frozen."

"You approved my mission," Ted said. "Don't you remember?"

"Only too well," Fred hissed. "I should have shot you into deep space when I had the chance."

"Okay, general, we need to calm down," Madani said. "Theodore's sparse file states that he is hyper-lethal. That means OMAC has him."

"Oh-Mack?"

"Apologies, it's an acronym we came up with nearly a hundred years ago. It stands for 'One Man Army Corp.' They're comprised of Spartans who are ranked 'hyper-lethal,' and they undertake the most dangerous missions we have to offer. Nearly every mission they go out on is a one-way trip. Theodore seems to be the perfect candidate for them."

"I have a need, so that means that I get to be thawed out," Ted said. He smiled angelically, but Kelly knew how deceptive that could be.

"Madani, I am ordering you to restrain him and throw him in the brig," Fred snapped. Kelly realized that many other Spartans were staring at them. Madani stood up straighter.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, sir, but you cannot give me that order," he said. "Remember the law you made before you and the other Generals were frozen? It stripped you, and every Spartan that is frozen, of your rank. Every frozen Spartan only holds an honorary rank to avoid clogging up the chain of command with generals. That gives you no authority, and last I checked, a General of the Armies of Sparta greatly outranks an honorary rank."

Fred's face was as neutral as neutral could be. But Kelly knew that he was seething. She knew him that well.

"If Theodore here was truly a menace to you, you would have put it in his file, let us know about it," Madani continued. "But, seeing as there is next to nothing on his file, we are going to use him. He is going to join OMAC, and that is final. Do you understand?"

"I do, sir," Fred said. Kelly doubted that she could ever say that so easily.

"Good. Now, this has caused enough of a scene," Madani said. "Good day, Honorary General."

"Excuse me, but where is this OMAC that I'm joining?" Ted asked.

"I'm heading that way, so I'll take you to them. Follow me."

Ted waved as he walked away. Fred stood there, seething.

"I don't know him and even I can tell he's off his rocker," Naomi said.

"You're just good at reading people. We can't assume General Madani is as well," Linda said. "It's kind of funny. We really never did talk about Ted."

"And right now, it's coming back to bite us in the ass," Kelly said.

"They'll see just how unhinged Ted really is," Fred said. "It shouldn't take that long for him to show his true colors."