A Proposition

The door slides open, allowing the silent figure to enter the bedroom unannounced.

Slowly, the person creeps closer to the bed before stopping to observe the female lying on it. Morning is almost over and she has yet to awaken, which could prove to be dangerous.

Having no real practice in this field, the person reaches out with his clawed hand and almost grasps her shoulder. The blankets suddenly explodes as the female twists around and throw the covers at him. Shock, he swipes the fabrics out of the way, but in that tiny span of time, he feels something slam into his knee. Tears appear in his eyes as he goes down before he sees two sharp fingers shooting out and digs into his neck. He chokes as he feels the sharp nails threaten to carve out his windpipe when he finally sputters out a few words.

"Wait," Va'lorn cries out before gaging.

Instantly Bree removes her hand and rolls off the bed, a look of shock plastered to her face.

Va'lorn crumples down to the floor as he massages his tormented neck while trying to inspect his knee at the same time. He has been trained since birth to fight, but he has never been taken down so effectively with such a few yet effective strikes, from a female no less.

He senses Bree is at his side as she places a hand on his shoulder while she lowers herself to the floor as well. She makes rapid hand movements in an attempt to communicate, he has no idea what she is saying, but there is only one thing that someone who is as caring as her is trying to say.

"I'm…alright," he finally gasps, "you…just…surprised me."

Out of the corner of his eye he sees her smirking at his words, but then her hands travels downwards before they started flowing over his knee. He hisses at the momentarily pain, but she has a gentle touch and she appears more focus on checking his body over rather than to restart the fight.

With his breathing restored and her checking over his leg, he is able to speak.

"The morning unit is almost over Bree," he informs her, "I grew concerned when you didn't wake."

She pauses in her hand movement to look up at him and shrugs in response. He is familiar with the body language, but to see a female performing it is surreal for him.

"I also wondered…well that is if you have any…" he trails off, unsure with what to say.

She looks up at him with a questioning look in her eye. He knows that she doesn't understand, but he doesn't wish to say anything else, he already feels like an insolent child for stuttering.

After a moment of silence she sighs in what could pass for aggravation. She stands and walks around her bed before picking up her drawing pad and stylus. She walks back to him while writing on the parchment, it isn't until she is standing in front of him does she lower the pad and reveal what she wrote.

'Let go of your pride and speak Soldier.'

This causes him to raise an eye ridge. Let go of his pride? Soldier? Who is she to command him, and how dare she call him a soldier, he is a warrior, not some dirt eating grunt.

With that set clearly in his mind, he looks up to say so, but then Bree moves in until they are face to face and growls. The rumble was loud enough to echo in the room and the show of her razor teeth causes him to hesitate. However all he sees are her eyes; and the fire that they hold. This is no ordinary female, she is no doubt a veteran, the threat in her orbs and the combat maneuvers she has used on him proves that on their own. His Keep brothers and Lord would laugh at him, but he shamefully bows his head in submission. This female is a senior warrior, one that he has to show respect and virtue to, especially now when he has just openly tried to defy her commands.

He freezes however when he feels her hand on his back. He looks up to see her giving him a small smile. She then gestures for him to rise, which he confusingly does so. Doesn't she know that he has submitted to her and that he needs to show complete devotion to her? Surely she must have, she has been among her people long enough to know of their traditions, so why does she have him stand like an equal?

She frowns slightly when she sees him trying to keep some weight off his injured leg. She makes a simple hand gesture and he knows there only one thing she could be trying to say.

'Sorry.'

He nods to her before saying, "it is fine Bree," he looks away, "it was…rather rude of me to enter your room without permission."

She sighs in return before writing.

'It's my fault really; I shouldn't have slept so late'.

She gives a smile before writing her next response, rather slowly, 'I tend to sleep hard after the retelling of my story.'

Va'lorn is suddenly filled with guilt upon realizing he has in some way affected Bree when she told him parts of her life.

"I am sorry," he says, earning him an odd look from her, "I had no idea asking you to share your tale would bring you pain."

She suddenly smiles at him before shaking her head slowly. She quickly writes down another sentence.

'Actually it gives me unexpected joy to finally tell someone of my upbringings and more importantly, to tell them about my family, about my father.'

Va'lorn frowns a bit, the idea of a human being friendly, being a parent, is almost impossible to imagine.

She writes again.

'You want to hear what happened next don't you?'

True, this is what he wanted, but he shakes his head, "we should eat first Bree, so that you can…attend to…your…duties," he stumbles over the words in desperation to which would best fit his sentence considering he has no idea what it is she does for a living aside from advising her elders and fixing machinery.

She grins and he knew she would be laughing at him if she could. Instead, she writes down, 'I can tell the anxiety is killing you.'

Is that a threat? Not a direct one but s subtle way of warning him of his death? No, that can't be right, he is detecting nothing but kindness and a bit of warmth from Bree, nothing to suggest she means him harm.

She performs the strange gesture of making her eyes roll in her socket as she glances to the heavens before writing, 'Why don't I just tell you what happened after they found me?'

Before he could say a thing, she is already writing, standing by his side so that he can see her pad as she scribbles runes onto the parchment.

'They got me out without anyone seeing us, then we were returning to their outpost in the hills.'

"How about…Ashely?"

Silence is the only answer he receives.

"Maria?" he offers next.

Quiet.

"Josephine?"

Nothing.

"Fredlina," he suggests.

"That's not even a name," Freddie finally grumbles from the driver's seat.

"Just checking to see of you are listening," Mark replies.

Freddie releases something that sounds close to a growl before becoming silent once more. They are driving, at a much slower rate, back to their comrades on the hill. Despite Mark's attempts at lightening the mood, they are all sitting in puddles of their own sweat as they wonder how this is going to play out. There is no way they can hide the baby from their superiors, not without performing some suspicious activities. They have to present this issue to the Major and sees what he does. In the back of their minds, they are all wondering if they will get in trouble for bringing back the little Elite. Would they be arrested, confided, or shot; what's the penalty for helping out a baby alien?

Mark tries to occupy his troubled brain by trying to come up with names for the Elite, there's really no point in just constantly calling her baby is there? He tries to pull the others out of their own dark clouds, but nobody speaks.

Freddie is driving them back, but they are going at a much slower speed due to Mark's insistence, he didn't want to risk the chance of losing the bundle he is holding when they hit a bump. Hirako is sitting in the passenger seat, looking from Freddie, to Mark and the baby, before finally looking to Seymour than repeats the process. Seymour is as stoic as ever while he scans the road, his hand resting on the machine gun that is resting on top of the Spade's cab. However there is something different about his posture, is it possible that he is simply shock at what he has done? This is probably the biggest trouble the giant man has ever gotten himself into, that is considering if they are in trouble.

Mark is leaning against the cab, sitting right next to Seymour's leg as he cradles the tiny child. His knees are brought up to his chest as he tries to use his body to shelter the little being from the cold gale that they would usually come across. The baby however has fallen asleep again, lulled away by the vehicle's movement most likely. He notes how she seems to lean into him despite the blood coated armor he is wearing; perhaps she is just used to the sight and the feel of tough stained metal. The thought causes him to shiver.

He remembers the baby's mother and how loving she has handled her child, so maybe she didn't grow up in a violent home, but still he's going to need to come up with a better argument to ensure the child's safety. Especially when he knows full well this is an argument he needs to take up with grouchy blood thirsty Major Kerr. He has no idea what he is going to negotiate for, but he is able to narrow it down to just making sure that the kid will be comfortable and safe. But who can provide her with that? ONI would sooner operate on her than care for her wellbeing and the UNSC just might throw her in a brig. What can they do, what can he do?

He shivers before asking, "What about-"

"No," Freddie suddenly interrupts.

"No what?"

"Don't say anything," Freddie says, eyes still glued to the road, "we're getting rid of that thing as soon as possible, so don't get all cuddly with it, alright?"

Mark doesn't say a thing for a while, they went a couple of more meters before he says, "it's just weird to call her baby, or kid, I just thought she needs a name, that's all."

"Well don't give her a human name," continues the driver.

Mark grins as he tries to joke, "Well alright, do you happen to know any good Elite names then?"

Hirako snorts while Freddie fumes before shouting, "I just don't care ok? Call her Rex, Fido, Glen, Joey, name her after the freaking wind for all I care," he falls into a murmuring fit as the air blows against his face as he picks up the speed a little.

After the wind…Mark really has no other idea, and besides, maybe this will annoy Freddie some more.

"How about Bree then?"

"Call her whatever you want," Freddie snarls, "it's her name, not mine."

Hirako smiles gently as they went back between one another and not for the first time Mark wonders what goes on in Seymour's head and what he thinks of the baby's name. There is really no reaction, but he feels Bree is a good one, nice and subtle, yet energetic, he hopes this will suit her well…if she lives long enough to hear and understand her name.

"We're getting close," Hirako suddenly voices as she tenses and looks to Mark, "I hope you know what you're doing Straka."

Mark tries to hide his nervousness by saying, "Me? You're my Sergeant; I'm going to tell them the whole thing was your idea."

Hirako murmurs some well chosen words to this, but before she finishes, they make a turn and find themselves back in the motor pool area. The small armada of Warthogs are still there, unmark and battle ready. The Engineers linger around the vehicles, but this time they are more serious as they scan the land. The night belongs to stealth Elites who are willing to slit the throat of any unlucky full that falls asleep in an unprotected area.

The sight of his fellow Marines, shaky and with their weapons held at the ready doesn't reassure him at all.

The Spade squeaks a little as it rolls to a halt. Mark feels his heart beat faster when he sees an engineer approaching, but before he got more than ten feet away, Seymour waves him off. The Marine gives the Sergeant an odd look, but shrugs and shuffles back to his original position.

Mark breathes a sigh of relief and was about to thank Seymour, but he already jumped to the floor and starts walking to the hill. His squad mates follow as well, leaving Mark alone in the bed of the vehicle.

He looks down to make sure the small child is sleeping comfortably before grabbing one end of the blanket and gentle covers Bree's face.

Bree…now that he thinks about it, it does sound like a good name for the Elite.

He gulps again before hopping off the back and follows after his team. Whether they did it on purpose or it was a coincidence, they take a path that bypasses any and all Engineers. Once they pass a sentry guard and Mark just about had a heart attack when the person looks at him. He just nods and Mark nods back, but he feels perspiration starting to break out on his skin as he picks up his pace.

At first he thought the change in altitude and the escalating steps would wake Bree, but the kid sleeps through it rather nicely. He is sure he heard her yawn at one point, but she didn't stir, so he assumes she is still asleep.

Finally the moment of truth arrives as they rise over the crest and finds themselves at their mortar pit. They freeze at what they see. The small encampment has been decimated, their mortar tubes have been twisted and melted, the small command tent they had set up is burning and on the air they can smell the stench of burning flesh and they can hear someone's faint cries on the wind.

All hopes of keeping the small Elite safe dies slowly and in agony within Mark's chest as he unconsciously brings the infant closer to his body.

"What now," he whispers to himself.

"Dump it and hope someone else can take care of it?" Freddie suggests.

"No."

"Straka," Hirako starts, "Freddie may be onto something, I mean, look at the camp-"

"Well we all know it wasn't Bree who did it now was it?" Mark demands.

"We'll be walking into a blood bath if you bring that thing into camp," Hirako argues, "the Major will no doubt be in a fit of rage, he'll kill it without even blinking an eye."

"It wouldn't hurt to try though now will it?" Mark attempts to counter.

Hirako opens her mouth to open when Seymour steps in front of them. He then makes rapid gestures.

'Deep breathe, minds set, eyes forward, advance.'

For a man of few words, Mark feels like Seymour is the smartest guy on the planet at the moment. He releases a angry exhale, breathes in more oxygen and look to what's left of the camp.

"Alright," he breathes, "here we go."

"Are you out of your mind?" Freddie demands, but Mark is already walking forward.

With each step, dread starts to build along with the anxiety as he hopes and prays that this will all end well, if not for him than at the very least Bree's safety. They walk pass battle weary Marine, all searching for targets, all with glaze of anger and killing instincts bright in their eyes. Mark double checks to make sure the cloth is still hiding Bree.

The command tent has been burned down, along with a few chard remains lying in the ash. Mark looks around for the Major, but the only office he sees is his Captain, Anthony, who is standing close by, organizing a squad of Marines as he does so.

Mark didn't want to bring the Skipper into this, he considers him to be a great guy and he doesn't want to get him in trouble. Besides, the fewer who knows about Bree, the better, but there's no other choice.

Finally, the Corporal walks up to the Captain, waits until he is finished with the squadron of Marines before moving forward.

"Excuse me sir," he says cautiously.

The Captain turns to Mark and his eyes widen.

"Whoa Straka," he says as he takes in his form, "What happened to you?"

"Well sir, you see-"

Mark is interrupted when Hirako steps in, "Honestly sir, I think this is an issue that needs to be discussed in private."

The Skipper raises an eyebrow, but when he sees how serious Hirako looks, Seymour slightly bent frame, the worry in Marks eyes, and Freddie's angry expression, he figures this must be something serious.

"Alright," he says and waves at them "follow me."

He already turns, but Mark presses forward, "Sir, Major Kerr needs to hear this too."

Skipper breathes a deep sigh and looks at Mark before saying, "I'm afraid Kerr isn't here Corporal."

"Well where is he?" Freddie impatiently demanded.

Mark knows Freddie would have been in a lot of trouble for talking like that to a superiors rank, but Skipper lets it slide as he jerks a thumb in a certain direction, "he's over there."

Mark looks and shivers when he sees that Skipper is pointing at the blacken corpse that has been pulled from the ashes of the ruined tent. He pulls his gaze away as they follow Skipper a few feet away from the destroyed outpost. They walk a good fifteen yards away before they come upon a small circle of boulders.

"I know it ain't five star," Anthony comments as he sits heavily on one of the large stones, "but it's better than standing," he waves at them to take a seat as well.

Mark feels exhausted as he lowers himself onto one of the rocks, it isn't until now that he realizes how taxed his body has been in the past few hours; surviving a crazy car ride, a blood drunk Brute, another crazed journey and now all the anxiety and blood racing effects are catching up to him. Freddie and Hirako settles in as well, only Seymour remains standing as he scans the horizon, out of instinct or because he doesn't want to wish to take apart of the conversation.

"So," the Captain says, "With Kerr gone, I'm now number one, so you only have a minute or two to debrief."

Hirako takes a deep breath before leaning forward, "Well, the Troopers had the whole thing clear and there was really no incident."

Skipper raises an eyebrow, "this doesn't sound like a normal report Sergeant."

"I know," she replies before swiping a hand in Mark's direction, "Straka here has an issue that I know will take up a bulk of your time."

Mark feels the blood drain from his face when Tony looks to Mark, "alright, Straka, care to share?"

"Um…" all courage that Mark has summoned dies as he stares at the Captain and tries his best not to look the man in the eye.

"Oh for the love of…" Freddie mummers something before looking up and says, "Just show him what you have in the blanket; that should suffice."

Skipper lowers his eyes towards the bulge with an interested look. There is no point in prolonging it any longer; a quick flick of the cloth is truly the only way of making this any quicker. With a sense of finality, Mark whips the blanket off and held the little girl out a little, bathing her in the limited light the stars are offering.

Bree is sleeping as if all is well, which is the complete opposite in Anthony's case.

There is a thud as he falls backwards and lays there as he stares up at Mark with stun eyes. After a few moments, his round eyes narrow and he slowly gets back unto his feet, never taking his eyes off the bundle, or the hand off his sidearm.

"What is that?" he finally questions.

"Uh…" Mark starts off hesitantly before bringing Bree back to his chest, "it's a baby."

"Well I can see that," Anthony states with caution in his eyes as he slowly approaches, "but where did it come from?"

Mark shrugs, "I found her at the camp and…well…sir I couldn't just leave her there…"

He stares down at the child for a couple of more seconds before asking, "Who else knows about this?"

Mark exhales, "just us," he nods his head to his squad.

Anthony suddenly swirls on Hirako and says, "and you decided to bring it here?" he waves back at the partially destroyed camp, "now of all times?"

Hirako holds up her hands as if in defense, "It wasn't my idea Skip, it was Seymour's call."

Now Anthony truly looks stun, the thought of this whole thing being Seymour's idea is more inexplicable than the thought of there being such things as the Covenant having babies. He looks to the Gunny in question, but with his face covered and stiff posture there is no way of knowing what he is thinking.

Anthony sighs and rubs his eyes as he mummers, "we don't have time for this."

Time for what? Deciding with what to do with Bree, the shift of power among the ranks, or the threat of another attack?

Finally he looks at Mark and demands, "If I tell you to chuck that thing over the ridge right now, would you do it?"

Mark instantly retreated a few steps away from the Captain.

"I guess that's a no," Anthony sighs as he starts pacing, rubbing his head over and over. The squad watches in silence, rarely making a sound, save for Bree whenever she shifts her sleeping position or releases a small sleepy exhale.

Finally he places a weary hand on his young weathered face, "I can't think at the moment," he falls silent again as he thinks for another minute.

He turns to Mark and says, "Can you keep an eye on it until morning, by then this mess should be settled at least to some degree, then I want the whole story."

Mark isn't sure of this is bad or great news, it's as if he is prolonging the coming judgment, but he suppose this is better than nothing.

"Alright, for once the Split lip came through for us."

"If you are referring to the fact that we are being kept like prisoners," Hirako states, "then I concur."

"I'm referring to the fact that we are in a tent and have some actual cots," Freddie says as he lowers himself onto the foldable cloth, "sure beats the ground," he glances to his right, "right Gunny?"

Seymour is standing at the entrance of the tent, watching the flap and keeping to himself as usual. He bluntly ignored Freddie's question.

"See," Freddie says, "he agrees."

Mark rolls his eyes as he lies on his own little bed. He then looks down at Bree who is snuggled against his clean Marine green T-shirt. After waiting an additional ten minutes for the small tent to be constructed and then secretly smuggling her back within the camp perimeter without her being seen, he finally allows himself to drop his guard. As ironic as it is, the very people who he fears would kill the little alien is now protecting her, which is completely unknown to them. This is supposed to be the Skipper's tent, but he insisted that the Mortar team plus Gunnery Sergeant Seymour use it, seeing as he is too busy running around trying to reorganize the camp.

Mark honestly has no objections; he would have fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the cot, but for some reason he is compelled to keep his eyes on Bree, as if he is afraid that she would be taken from him.

After a couple of seconds, Freddie obviously clocks out when his snoring fills the tent. Bree stirs a bit, but aside from that, she remains asleep. Mark keeps his arms wrap around her and holds her tightly, she is just barely larger than the palm of his hand. He chuckles as he watches the little Elite rest.

"What's up?"

He glances towards the voice and meets the eyes of Hirako as she lays awake as well. He suddenly wonders if she is watching Bree as well, but not out of the care that Mark has for the little alien.

"Just thinking," he tells her as he looks back at Bree, "she is really small, yet the Elites are so freaking huge."

She laughs as well and they soon fall silent as they observe Bree, with the occasional sound of Marines passing by and Freddie's sleeping.

"Why do you think she is here?" Hirako suddenly asks, "Her and…her family."

He gives Hirako a curious look; they are talking about this now?

He shrugs and says, "who knows, maybe her father was a general and his wife came with him," he falls silent as he muses with the idea, "ever heard of the battle of Mars? 2345?"

"Yeah," Hirako says.

"The UNSC was so sure they could beat that small rebel faction that they invited their families to come and watch from the decks of Frigates, which were shot down later on," he watches Bree as he gently runs a finger alongside her head, "maybe that's what happen, maybe they thought this would be a easy win but it didn't turn out so good."

"That would make sense," reasons Hirako, "but what about the Brute? They have always been aggressive, think it just lost it temper and lashed out at them."

"I see no reason why that would have happened," Mark says, "but I guess this is the best guess we're able to come up with."

"Yeah…" his Sergeant is silent before saying, "it's sort of weird isn't it?"

"What's weird?"

"Talking about the Elite's parents as if we actually cared," she bluntly says.

"Well I do," Mark declares, surprising himself slightly.

Hirako raises an eyebrow, "Getting a little semimetal towards the enemy Straka? Afraid of killing more 'loving' parents?"

Mark shivers at the thought, "No…you just weren't there."

"Weren't there for what?" she asks.

"Her mother or at least I think it was her mother," Mark starts out slowly, "she was dying and she knew it. Yet in those final moment she didn't waste that time to give me hateful glares, instead she spent it holding Bree," he unconsciously brushes the tiny baby as he speaks, "and I saw the tears. They may hate us, they may want us all dead…but I can't stop thinking of her and of the care and love she saved for Bree."

He sighs, "We may be at war and can be as different as can be, but maybe a love of a mother is more universal than we thought." He forces a laugh, "or maybe I am getting a little sentimental, what do you think?"

He looks at Hirako again, but her back is to him. He thought he heard her sniffle, but he stayed silent, not sure of what to say or what to do. Finally he just make himself as comfortable a she could, rest a protective hand on Bree and slowly shuts his eyes, with the sound of commanders barking orders to the grunts in the back ground.