Chapter 4

November 13, 2552, 0910 Hours, New York Military Operations Center, New York City, United States, planet Earth

Legacies….. Mike sat in his cell alone with his thoughts. The concept that had haunted him for so many years popped up after being dormant for the past several months. He took the battered medal out of his pocket. He'd fished it out of the utility pouch on his armor he'd kept it in before the MP's had led him to the brig. He looked at the faded blue ribbon and tarnished medal, a Congressional Medal of Honor, that had been awarded to the man he was named after. Mike Nantz had been a Marine sergeant on Earth the first time aliens had invaded the planet in 2011. And he'd been instrumental in helping humanity find a way to defeat the threat. His father had told him the story from an early age and it had become the Nantz family legacy since then.

Big shoes to fill, Mike thought to himself. During his time on Mars and with the Wolf Pack he'd thought he'd moved on but it seemed the concept had only moved to the recesses of his mind.

How did I end up in this? Mike thought to himself. Yes, he'd disobeyed orders but he thought for a greater good. Now it appeared he was being punished in the middle of a war for it. The disciplined supersoldier couldn't argue with the legality of it but the justice of it was another thing.

What would this mean for him? And more importantly what would it mean for his team? He was in the brig, Adam in the hospital. Would they break his team up? Would command send them back to be expendable soldiers, cannon fodder, for the defense of Earth? It wouldn't be the first time, Mike thought to himself.

And what would his legacy be? Sure he'd succeeded in his missions on Reach with Noble Team but all but Jun had died. Yes, they'd accomplished some big tasks on Mars but that planet fell too. With humanity hanging in the balance there was a need for those who could inspire. He'd begun to hope he might have been able to be that kind of catalyst. But now what would his legacy be? Would people shake their head at his name and speak of opportunity and potential lost?

Anger spiked at the thought and Mike spontaneously punched the concrete wall so hard the sound thundered in the brig.

Guess I'm not as disciplined as I think, Mike chided himself. He'd been on a high since the rescue mission had happened. They'd found and rescued Natalia and all had gotten out alive. Gunny MacGregor had successfully held the last transport and they'd made it back to Earth. A fairy tale ending. Natalia's dad had been visibly moved by her return and had made particular note of his involvement. Things were good.

And now this.

It seemed as if joy and personal victory for Mike Nantz was going to be perpetually squelched out by the realities of the world and the injustices endemic to it.

Dinner!

The thought hit Mike like a plasma bolt. Natalia was going to be calling to set up their dinner date with her father. He'd had his personal communications device taken from him and he had no way of letting her know what was going on. What would she think? Would she think he'd bailed? Despair overwhelmed him like the Flood and his mood turned black. What had once seemed to be the start of something new only was getting darker.

Mike sat in this virtual darkness for how long he couldn't tell. The meal that had been brought to him sat on a stool untouched. He had no appetite, nor the desire to do anything but despair.

The forlorn man was shaken from his lethargy by the sound of feet in the hallway.

"Spartan, you have a visitor," the MP corporal on duty announced as the door to his cell slid open.

Instead of one of his teammates, Gunny MacGregor, or even Natalia in walked an impeccably dressed and groomed middle age civilian man. Though he had a pale complexion, was balding and wore wire glasses there was a sharpness and aggression in his eyes that couldn't be masked by his easy smile. "Leave us," he ordered the guard without ceremony.

"But I have my orders to….," the MP stammered, caught off guard.

"You have no right or authority to do this, corporal," the man in a tailored black suit with crisp white shirt shot back authoritatively, "or do I speak with your captain?"

The guard scurried off without another word leaving a stunned Mike alone with the strange visitor.

"Lieutenant Commander, my name is Peter Slack and I have been retained by Spanner Misriah to be your legal counsel."

"Pardon?" Mike asked, confused by the turn of events. "What do you mean?"

"I'm to be your lawyer, Mike," Slack answered patiently, adjusting the blue silk tie he wore.

"Do I need one?" Mike asked, still unsure what was going on.

"You most definitely do," Slack responded confidently, taking a datapad out of his leather briefcase and looking over several documents. "Even as a member of the UNSC military and a Spartan you still have rights. I'm here to protect them."

"And Mr. Misriah contacted you?"

"He did," the lawyer confirmed, "because I have some experience in military law and procedures."

Natalia's dad did this for me? Mike thought, shocked but also touched by the action. "Thank you, and thank him. Everything happened so fast I didn't know what to do."

"Mike, that's not on you," Slack responded, his tone showing a suppressed anger. "This never should have gone down this way."

"What do you mean?"

"There'll be time to talk about that later," the lawyer responded. "First thing is we get you released from here and back to your unit. The charge doesn't warrant this kind of response. Someone is just flexing their authority."

"But I disobeyed a direct order."

"For a greater good," Slack responded easily. "Yes, that's true, but the nature of the refusal needs to be taken into account and it hasn't been. There does need to be consequences but it could have easily been a reprimand noted to your personnel file. To arrest and detain you? That's not right. There's something else going on here and I'm going to get to the bottom of this," Slack declared, allowing the emotion to now show in his voice. "I'm here now and this is going to get corrected and fast. The UNSC owes you a debt of gratitude lieutenant commander, not jail."

"Thank you. I didn't know what to do," Mike confessed, feeling a bit sheepish.

"That's why I'm here," the lawyer declared emphatically. "I'm on your side, Mike. So don't worry. We'll get this straightened out."

The previous afternoon Natalia had arrived at the luxurious condo overlooking Central Park, a place she hadn't been to in years. Though many of the now reflective woman's memories were bad there were surprisingly more pleasant ones than she'd allowed herself to believe. Happier times, when she'd been a girl and her parents were still together flooded in and she couldn't help but smile and feel a warmth inside that had long been suppressed. Though her father kept a respectful distance as she reacquainted herself he also maintained contact. Natalia happily lost herself in the experience for nearly two hours and her father joyfully allowed her this indulgence.

Still, the quick thinking woman had her own agenda. "What time would you like Mike for dinner?" she asked, watching her father's reaction.

"Whenever you want and whenever he's free," Spanner Misriah answered lightly. "I'll send a car to the base for him and then Renaldo can whip us up anything the two of you would like since you've probably not eaten well lately.

Natalia's face lit up at the obvious concern for both of them and willingness to integrate Mike. "Honestly, daddy, the sooner the better. I want the two of you to get to know each other. Plus, the reality is, I don't know how much time any of us have so I don't want to waste any of it."

She called me daddy," Spanner thought to himself in delight. She hasn't done that in years. The joy filling his heart was almost overwhelming to the scheming man who for years had lived for the game so hadn't felt such powerful emotions for years. "Give him a call. I have a car on standby so we can get him anytime."

"That would be great," Natalia beamed, lighting up the comfortable living room they stood in. She pulled out her communications device and punched his number. The look of anticipation soon turned to a cloudy look as he didn't pick. "That's weird," she mumbled, "I guess he's likely just getting things taken care of."

"Why don't you sit down?" Spanner asked, pointing to an overstuffed couch. "You can try him again in a few minutes.

Natalia sat down and he beside her. Immediately she tried Mike again but with no better luck.

"Would you be willing to tell me about your time on Mars?" Spanner asked, pained now by the disappointed look on his daughter's face. But as altruistic as the man's intention, he was still the man he was and so wanted to know if she'd mention the inspections she'd done of his factories on Mars before the Covenant attacked. The billionaire industrialist had moved production away from the planet after the fall of Reach and she'd gone to visit them. He was awaiting a summons to a Commerce Department tribunal on this as the United Earth Government department had somehow found out. That now held little interest to him. He wanted to know if his beloved daughter would question him about this action.

She began to tell of what happened starting with the attack on the planet and her decision to not withdraw with the rest of the Office of Naval Intelligence team. She'd asked her father to not intervene like he'd done on Reach where the scheming man had arranged through Admiral Parangosky for her to be extracted at the soonest possible time from Noble Team where she'd been serving. That had caused great tension between her and father as well as Mike.

In the initial stages of the conversation she'd stopped regularly to try to get a hold of Mike with the same results. Irritation at the delay in connecting began to distract the emotional woman but then as she began to describe the last few weeks, her role as a Combat Controller and then her eventual capture the distraction was gone and she got caught in the moment. This lasted for well over an hour finishing with Mike and his team rescuing her right before her Brute captors were about to kill her.

"And he did that for you?" Spanner said, his voice barely above a whisper, as the reality sunk in. "He risked himself and his team even though he'd been ordered to leave?"

"Yes, that's the kind of man Mike Nantz is," Natalia declared emphatically, looking hard at her father to ensure she'd made her point.

"I was so wrong about him," Spanner confessed, looking down at the expensive Persian rug covering the marble floor.

Natalia opened her mouth to agree with her device went off. Eagerly she looked at it but was disappointed to not recognize the number. Initially she thought to not answer but something compelled her to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Ma'am, this is Maia, from Lieutenant Commander Mike's team."

"Yes Maia, how are you?" Her heart began to beat harder because of the unexpected call.

"Not good, ma'am. Mike's been arrested and is in the brig," the Spartan got right to the point.

"What?" Natalia exploded. "When? How?"

Spanner Misriah picked up the gist of what his daughter was saying and noting her immediate distress stood beside her nervously.

"It happened shortly after you left," Maia answered calmly though there was a note of concern in her voice. "An MP detachment showed up and took him into custody. He's in the brig on the base."

"But why?" Natalia asked, trying to control her own emotions. As she asked the question instinctively she knew the answer.

"Well…," Maia hesitated.

"Please tell me," Natalia pleaded.

"It was for disobeying a direct order."

"The one to leave Mars and instead come and save me?" Natalia cried causing her father to spontaneously grab her hand

"Yes ma'am," Maia confirmed

Natalia felt the growing lump in her stomach rise into her throat. Mike was arrested because of her. He saved her life and now he was arrested. Then, coming out of nowhere in the formerly selfish woman she asked, "And what about the rest of the team? What's happened to you?"

"Nothing, ma'am, we're okay." Maia seemed pleased she'd shown concern for the other Spartans. "We're confined to quarters until we receive orders. Listen, I need to go. I just wanted you to know since I heard you and the CO making plans."

"Thank you, I appreciate that more than you can imagine. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know," Natalia pledged, mind reeling and suddenly feeling lightheaded.

"You're welcome, ma'am, and will do. I'll keep you posted if we hear any more," Maia confirmed and then hung up.

"Daddy!" Natalia cried out, losing the fragile control of her emotions as she dropped her device. She then spontaneously buried her head in her father's chest and fiercely wrapped her arms around him, degenerating into sobs.

Spanner Misriah responded and enveloped her in a protective bear hug. Though middle aged Spanner was both fit and strong so now firmly held his daughter as his own mind reeled at what he'd heard.

"What are we going to do?" Natalia cried.

"We're not going to let this injustice happen," Spanner Misriah went from the unfamiliar role of protective parent to angry billionaire with tremendous resources at his disposal. "Niccolo!" he called out for his personal Smart AI, something he'd never done in front of his daughter. Yes, much had changed for the military industrialist.

"My lord," Niccolo responded, appearing in his chosen avatar of the 16th century Italian nobleman and thinker Niccolo Machiavelli.

"I know you heard the conversation so confirm details," Spanner ordered, trying to control his rising anger.

It took the Smart AI less than a second. "Spartan Mike-B312 is being held in custody at the New York City military base. He is awaiting transportation to a UNSC security facility in Melbourne Australia. Charge is disobeying a direct order from his area commander."

"Thank you Niccolo," Spanner replied. "Place a call to my personal lawyer, Lawrence Millstein.

"Already connecting," Niccolo responded in a genuinely shocked voice as Spanner Misriah had never thanked the AI for anything in the past.

It didn't take long for the Misriah's personal attorney to pick up.

"Larry, we've got a situation here," Spanner stated getting to the point. "I need the best lawyer you know with military law experience. Who do you have?"

It took the seasoned and connected lawyer about 15 seconds to respond since he had to get over the shock of the question. He was aware of Misriah Armory's trouble with the government and had been working on the defense plan. This caught him off guard though he quickly regained his faculties. "Peter Slack, Spanner. He's ex UNSC JAG and a terror in the court room. The guy's a Pitbull. I'm forwarding his personal number now."

"Thanks Larry, I owe you."

"No problem Spanner," Millstein responded tentatively, wondering if it really was Spanner Misriah on the line. "If you need anything else, let me know."

The head of Misriah Armory had already tabled the other issue in his mind and then placed a call to the recommended lawyer who immediately took an interest in the case having heard of Mike-B312 then becoming angry at what he found out. Slack pledged to take the case and visit Mike as soon as he could.

There was one more call to place.

Rather than use Niccolo he dismissed the Smart AI himself. Using an encrypted device he punched the code in and waited for a response.

"Tell him this is Golf 51979," Spanner declared to the person at the other end who was trying to deflect the call. Receiving a satisfactory reply after a pause he added, "Yes, I'll wait."

"Spanner, I'm a bit busy right now," Fleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood stated a bit testily on the other end of the line.

"I wouldn't call you if this wasn't important," Spanner stated, ignoring the tone in the seasoned veteran. "This concerns a key UNSC asset, Spartan Mike-B312.

"The Lone Wolf from Noble Team?" Hood asked, now curious about the call. "Wasn't he on Mars?"

Yes, he was. He saved my daughter's life, again, and countless others," Spanner declared.

"I'm glad to hear that Spanner," Hood responded genuinely since the two had known each other for years and even had a degree of friendship, "I truly am. There are few happy stories or outcomes these days. But I know you didn't call to tell me that. What's on your mind?"

"Mike disobeyed a direct order to do it."

Natalia noted that her father had called him 'Mike' which touched her deeply.

"Well, Spartans have been known to be unconventional in their methods," Hood acknowledged thinking of the legendary Master Chief, "but I'm happy for the outcome."

"Yes, me too, but he's been arrested and is being held in custody here in New York," Spanner informed the senior UNSC officer, trying to keep him voice level.

"He was arrested for that?" Hood asked, finding it hard to believe. "Right after Mars?"

"That's why I'm calling Terrence."

"Well that a damned shame and a foolish move as far as I'm concerned but also a personnel matter and another commander's business," Hood declared though with regret in his voice. "I met him on one of our ODPs when he was just back from Reach. Good man, good operator."

"But you see it's not just a personnel matter," Spanner began to counter, anticipating the response from the by-the-book officer. "None other than John-117 has done as much. They're perhaps our most effective asset right now operationally. But that's not all," the wily industrialist cut off the admiral, "And even more important he's key for morale. You should see the responses up here to him in the press and social media. He shouldn't be out of the game for something like this."

"Hmmm," the tactically-thinking commander thought. "You make a good point. Let me look into this."

November 13, 2552, 1445 Hours, UNSC HIGHCOM Facility Bravo-6, Sydney, Australia, Planet Earth

"What is it Serin?" Admiral Parangosky asked her aide who entered the CINCONI's opulent office unscheduled and with a look of concern on her face.

"Ma'am, Spanner Misriah has contracted Peter R. Slack to be the Lone Wolf's attorney," Captain Osman reported, getting right to the point.

"Is that Slack as in Colonel Slack, the head prosecutor for the UNSC JAG Corp?" Parangosky asked, working hard to not show her surprise at the development.

"Correct, ma'am," Osman confirmed. "He retired two years ago and is one of the top lawyers in America right now. He's had the Spartan's transfer here stayed already, that's how I found out."

Admiral Parangosky swore under her breath but kept her cool. "And can we not instead force him to have military counsel?"

"Negative, ma'am, Slack's already filed an injunction with the JAG and received intervener status on behalf of Mike-B312," the aide answered.

"How'd he become involved?" the head of ONI asked testily.

"Uncertain at this point," Osman admitted. "I can dig deeper and find out."

"So be it, leave it for now," Parangosky answered calmly but with an underlying anger at having her scheme thwarted. Still, the cagey woman's mind was already moving in another direction. "Continue to monitor the situation but we move on to other things." For the scheming woman this was nothing more than a distraction from the pressures of the war effort, an opportunity to extend her reach and seek to exert control. She had other irons in other fires.

November 13, 2552, 1445 Hours, Cleveland, Ohio, United States, planet Earth

"Ruwan, man, are you paying attention?"

"What?" Ruwan Ackerson answered absently, showing he wasn't.

Rich Graffi, a fellow concierge at the posh Hilton Cleveland Downtown, poked his friend. "I said, did you see the new act they've booked in?"

"No," Ruwan mumbled, still not paying attention.

"She's hot," Rich noticed it too but tried to distract his stocky, dark-haired friend who'd been through much lately. "Name's Myras Tyla. Apparently she plays a pretty mean styllight. But I also heard that's not all she's got going for her, if you know what I mean?" he leered and winked.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Man, are you still thinking about New Mombasa?" Rich asked, his tone becoming more serious. Ruwan Ackerson has been in the city for a short while, having escaped the attack on the city by the Covenant, returning to the city he'd grown up in.

"No, I'm not. Sorry for being spaced out," Ruwan apologized, his brown eyes turning sad at the memory as he ran his fingers through his blue-black hair. "I'm thinking about my big brother. I haven't heard from him for quite a while."

"The army officer, right?"

"Yea, well he was on Mars."

"Oh, damn dude," Graffi made the connection instantly. "I'm sorry. Do you know…"

"No, nothing yet," Ruwan answered, lips pursed. "I haven't heard from him since the Covvies attacked. I do know they've evacced the planet but things are pretty crazy now. I just hope he's okay.

"I'm sure he is," Rich tried to encourage his friend. "He works with Spartans, right? They'll get him out a jam."

"I hope so, but even Master Chief couldn't save Mombasa from being levelled," Ruwan answered sadly.

"Ackerson," the hotel manager barked, "get back to you post, we've got a group coming in."

Ruwan sighed and hoped the activity would help distract him but he couldn't help but wonder what his brother Colonel James Ackerson was doing.