Chapter 4

Galin Thorm awoke groggy. He forced his eyes to open and found his room was still dark. Since his alarm was connected to the environmental controller in his cabin, he knew by the lack of a warm orange glow that should be filling his room that he still had a while before his scheduled wakeup. He turned onto his side, expecting to find Kandis still asleep next to him, but she wasn't there.

He blew a frustrated sigh out his nostrils. Despite staying awake for her arrival late last night, Kandis had apparently chosen to sleep in her own cabin. And now, for that reason, his "late to bed, early to rise" routine was denying him an adequate block of sleep before a long day ahead of him. Galin rolled back over on his back and stared at the ceiling, forcing his mind to ease. She's just in one of her moods. She'll snap out of it once the mission is in full swing.

Galin rubbed his eyes and sat up. The burning in his eyes subsided and he spun 90 degrees to place his bare feet on the floor. "Jovan," he croaked, his voice strained.

The AI flickered into existence on the pedestal next to Galin's terminal, basking the room in a soft green glow. "Yes, Captain?"

"What's our ETA?" he asked, standing in the process. Galin started for the personal lavatory and bit back a curse when he found a pair of Kandis' undergarments in the doorway. It was a careless way for a cleaning crew or an uninvited guest to suspect their Captain was breaking regulations. He scooped them up and tossed them in the bin that connected to an incinerator near the ship's engines.

"We are still 7 hours and 22 minutes out." Jovan rotated to follow the captain. "All systems are nominal. We are still in full Stealth," he added.

"Good." Galin made it to the sink and splashed some cold water onto his face. "That's all for now, Jovan." When the room plunged into darkness from the AI's absence, Galin switch on the lavatory light, wincing at its brightness. His morning routine beckoned him, though he loathed working out this early, but his mission briefing wasn't for another three hours. Might as well.

Moments later, Galin was dressed in his physical training outfit and heading towards the galley/fitness room. Even the late shift crewmen would be finished with their cleaning of the area and the place should have been vacant. But when he was still a dozen paces away, he heard the shuffling of feet and short, calculating breaths coming from the small gap in the double doorway.

When he entered, he saw something he wasn't prepared for. With movements faster than anyone he had ever seen, a teenage girl was delivering blow after blow against a workout dummy, its thick base nearly pitching backward with every third hit. Sweat drenched her loose-fitting shirt, and her short black hair glistened in the overhead lighting. Her skin was dark, but not as dark as Galin's, with an earthy tone to it. There was no mistaking who she was.

She was halfway through another fighting move, this time with her hands positioned high above her head, when she finally noticed him. "Captain," she greeted without labored breath. She casually rested her arm upon the dummy's shoulder and smiled. "I'm surprised to see you here so early."

Galin's brow furrowed. "I could say the same to you." He then frowned. "I thought Spartans always trained with their armor on. Something about reflex enhancement?"

Nicole offered a half smile. "I already ran through my regiment with my MJOLNIR. I'm just finishing up the morning with a cool-down workout." She let her gaze drift downward. "Sometimes it's good to feel your own sweat and potential, you know?"

He didn't fully, not in the way she was thinking, but he nodded anyway. He glanced around the room and found nearly every piece of equipment had been dragged out of storage. "If you need me to go, I can come back later. I don't want ONI finding out I held up a Spartan honing her skills," he said lightly.

She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slightly. "Why would ONI get upset about that?"

The report of Operation: TORPEDO flashed before his eyes. "They can easily replace a lowly ship captain, but you Spartans . . . well, let's just say I'm honored that ONI entrusted me with bringing you along."

Her gaze drifted down again, this time remaining fixed for a while. "I'm the only one assigned to this mission, aren't I? There's no Spartans or ODST squads waiting aboard Apocolypso?"

Galin held in his breath for a moment. If he were talking to any other officer or specialist he would have cut the conversation off long ago. But a Spartan deserves to know. "I think ONI is leaving us to fend for ourselves. I'd like to call it HIGHCOM's confidence in us as a unit, but I fear the UNSC is just too spread out to muster any sort of immediate response." He sighed. "But if there is something big waiting for us at our destination, trust me; we're not going to do anything rash. The Office of Naval Intelligence has always calculated the cost before handing down orders."

The Spartan snorted. "Not from what I've heard." She shook her head and waved a hand to dismiss further dialog on the subject. "I'm sorry, sir. Didn't mean to sound subordinate."

Galin swallowed, hearing the harshness in his words. "No, you're right. When you've been an officer for as long as I have been, you start to automatically response in platitudes."

"I understand, sir. And thank you for talking." She grinned passively and took a look around the room, as if noticing her path of destruction for the first time. "Do you want me to put all of this stuff away or leave it out for you?"

"Don't worry about it," he said. "And thank you for talking."

Spartan-458 threw a quick salute and walked out, picking up her backpack in the process.

As Galin watched her leave, he realized that ONI had picked the right Spartan for the job. She was still young but possessed an understanding and maturity that some of his own peers lacked. It was refreshing. Despite their lack of knowledge of the mission, he was now even surer of his crew and their abilities.

Suppressing a yawn, Galin began to stretch.

Covenant.

The entire bridge crew sat completely still as Melissa continued to narrow down the possible Covenant ships with cloaking systems. It was as if the AI was the only working individual in that moment.

Greene snapped herself out of her daze and started issuing orders. "Sensors, focus everything you've got on that ship. Melissa, bring us to full stop, quietly. And maintain full Stealth." She spun around and gave Sorenson a respectful nod. "Nice work, Rolf."

"Captain," Melissa said. "The ship appears to be holding steady several kilometers above the moon. They won't be able to enter the Slipstream until they clear lunar orbit."

Amanda set her jaw. As cautious as she naturally was, they couldn't let a supposedly damaged enemy ship escape without know why it was so deep in UNSC Space. "Melissa, bring us in, but keep us outside of any know Covenant weaponry range."

"Yes, Captain."

It was another half hour before Melissa came back with the final description of the Covenant ship. It looked like a modified Corvette that appeared to be retrofitted to house the cloaking systems, and other unidentified protrusions rose along the ships port and starboard sides. Melissa labeled it as a Corvette, for its sheer size and shape, but it was obvious that this vessel was designed for a special purpose.

To Captain Greene, it was unsettling to see such a mighty Covenant ship in a state of dormancy within visual range. Galin's going to flip when he sees this.

After Apocolypso had been safely in position for nearly four hours, Amanda decided to try and grab some much-needed sleep. The Covenant ship was still unmoving and its shield and cloaking systems were locked in a pattern of malfunction. Melissa concurred that the pattern was random and not some sort of false display to lead them into a trap. It was unnerving to the entire crew, but with Apocolypso on station, waiting for the Covenant ship to come to life, Melissa assured Captain Greene that there was no immediate threat. Sorenson agreed.

"Melissa, I'll only be gone for a few hours, but alert me the moment anything changes. Follow protocol AJ-719 if you are unable to reach me in time for decisive action." Amanda stood and walked out of the bridge.

Captain Greene didn't bother changing out of her uniform and she awoke with a distinct lack of cleanliness. She quickly ran a brush through her dirty-blonde hair and washed her face before ducking out of her quarters and starting for the bridge.

The corridors were bathed in dimmed red light, and Amanda could hear a distant argument coming from the female barracks off to her left. She frowned and turned down the short hallway to find two women standing, facing each other and Rolf Sorenson leaning against the doorway to the barracks with a perpetual wince on her face. Rolf and a tall woman were wearing robes and their hair dripped wet, while the female officer stood in full uniform with her arms folded across her chest.

"It wasn't like that," Rolf tried to explain quietly.

The tall woman with auburn hair turned from her pose in front of the female officer she had been yelling at. "Then what would you call it? 'A friendly from-behind hug'? Cause it sure as hell felt like you were feeling me up!"

"Ladies," the officer interrupted, obviously on her last nerve. "May I remind you that we are on Alert Alpha and any insubordination will result in immediate isolation confinement?" She caught site of Captain Greene and saluted out of reflex, the other two unmoving. "Captain, ma'am. I . . ."

Amanda held up a hand. "What's going on here?"

Rolf awkwardly pulled her robe tighter and looked downcast, unable to respond under the captain's scrutiny and gaze. "A misunderstanding," she finally said.

The tall woman snorted. "If you call 'assault' that, then yeah."

Greene raised her chin. "Are you hurt? Do you need any medical attention?"

"Well, no, but she assaulted me."

The captain glanced over at Rolf who now looked almost sick with helpless frustration. She turned back to the offended woman and narrowed her eyes. Over her shoulder, Amanda could see a crowd of men gathering outside their section, some looking curious and others wide-eyed for a cat fight. "Do you think this apparent incident warranted disrupting both the female and male barracks?"

The auburn-haired woman paused with her opened mouth ready for a retort, but she looked back at the officer, read her beckoning expression for cause to lock both of them up, and she seemed to deflate. "No, Captain."

"Like Sergeant Brendall said, we are on Alert Alpha and any insubordination will result in immediate confinement." Amanda leaned in. "Any insubordination." She let her gaze spread across the gathered crowd.

"Yes, Captain," both the tall woman and Rolf said in unison.

Amanda nodded slowly. "Dismissed, all of you." When the crowd turned but still lingered, she raised her voice. "Now!"

Everyone scattered except Rolf and Amanda. The captain stood there, waiting until all were out of earshot. "Ensign Sorenson, of all the times to cause a disruption, you chose now?"

Rolf's eyes glazed over with a tearful shine. "It wasn't what she said," she practically whispered. "Several women and I were gathered in the shower when one of them pushed me from behind and I fell forward onto Technician Thompson." Rolf looked down again.

Greene sighed and folded her arms across her chest. "And why would they stage such a thing?"

She shrugged and ran a hand through her wet hair. "They don't like me. Ever since I was brought aboard Apocolypso people have singled me out."

A few trace lines in Sorenson's psychiatric profile flashed before Amanda's mind's eye and she suddenly put the pieces together. The previous incidents in Sorenson's rap sheet were all based around conflict over her bisexual tendencies, and it was one reason she was so awkward around everyone. She always feared criticism or a lack of trust, and sometimes the teasing bubbled over into all out brawls.

Since Sorenson had joined the Office of Naval Intelligence at such a promising, early age, her hormonal and emotional outbursts were thrown into a tailspin when she had been brought into a group of abusive male training instructors. That first 6 months had changed her opinion of men and subsequently shaped her sexuality during her developing years. It was a very complicated situation and Greene knew she had to be sensitive. "It's because of your . . . orientation?" she asked carefully.

Rolf nodded. "They probably figured they could set me up to teach me a lesson or something." She pulled her robe tighter and shivered. "I'm sorry, Captain."

"Don't be," she said in a sympathetic tone. Greene unfolded her arms and pulled out her personal datapad. "Tell you what I'll do." She accessed the quartermaster program connected to the ship's main database. "Since Lieutenant Hyde is on leave, and because you are a brevet Second Officer, you can take his quarters for the duration of this mission." She furrowed her brow. "Would that help?"

Sorenson frowned deeper than she had before. "I'm not a charity case."

"Then consider it an order." She returned her datapad to her belt clip and gave a thin-lipped smile. "You're too valuable to lose to some internal barrack squabbling. And I'll see to it that Tech Thompson and her cretins get reprimanded."

"Please don't," Rolf blurted out. "I'd rather just let the issue drop."

Greene eyed the ensign for a moment. It was obvious that the young woman was in some emotional turmoil and it would probably be for the best to quell the problem now and end it. "Very well." She straightened up. "After you get settled in, meet me on the bridge. I'm sure Nagamo isn't too far away."

"Yes, ma'am."

As Amanda Greene turned and headed for the bridge, her mind raced. She knew bringing Sorenson aboard was a good decision, despite her past, but if not for the ensign's quick thinking and critical insight, Greene would probably have no just reason to sustain her career. It was a kind of gamble.

She just hoped it was worth the risk.