Chapter 8

September 29, 2552, 1830 Hours, Losantiville, Seven Hills Region, planet Mars

Mike sat before several neatly stacked piles of paper on his otherwise tidy desk, sighed and pushed himself back. He looked at the computer that sat turned off before him and thought about contacting Natalia. He'd been busy the last couple of weeks so hadn't given her any thought but now, almost inevitably, his mind went back to her. It wouldn't be hard to find her and then he could give her a call. But what would he say? 'Hi, how's it going? What's new since your daddy had you rescued from Reach?' So many had died since she left including all of Noble Team but he and Jun, could they even relate anymore? Yes, she'd helped him get over Jorge's death but a lot had changed. Would she even want to talk to him again or had she gone back to her old life and her safe, rich boyfriend.

Yes, a lot had changed.

Mike jumped up in one smooth motion and savagely slammed his hand onto the metal desk, putting a dent into it. The Spartan chided himself for the undisciplined outburst and decided it was easier to throw himself into his work than try to sort this out. Emotions were complex.

The troubled man sat down and looked anew at his desk. Mike had printed off the files of the candidates that he'd narrowed the list down to. Going over them on his datapad had been frustrating for the man more used to being in the field then administrative taskings. He'd also forgone the use of the dedicated AI Colonel Ackerson had made available to him, much to the superior officer's irritation. The AI was supposed to have sifted through all the information and picked the best team for him but the wise Spartan was not about to put his life in the hands of something that didn't feel what he did. So instead he'd gone over all the tests and assessment reports they'd gathered over the previous weeks. Gunny MacGregor came into the office with a nod of acknowledgement.

"How are they?" Mike asked as the senior NCO settled himself in one of the two chairs sitting in front of the desk.

"Ready for their milk and cookies and to be tucked into bed," MacGregor responded.

Mike snorted and shook his head at the comment. "All right then. Let's get down to it."

"I think we need more time, sir," Gunny MacGregor commented from the other side of the desk.

"I don't disagree," Mike responded, "but Colonel Ackerson wants the new team online and ready for deployment by the end of October."

The gunny knew as well as Mike the news from the last several weeks and none of it had been good. The Covenant continued to aggressively push across the galaxy. Both the planets Coral and New Jerusalem had been attacked and eventually glassed after short fights. In addition, the Eridanus System had been invaded and UNSC forces pushed back as well. As a result, Earth's chain of Orbital Defense Platforms has been hastily brought online. While no one was saying it, all agreed it was no longer a matter of if Earth was discovered but when.

On a more personal note for Mike, the Pillar of Autumn that he'd helped escape from Reach with the Smart AI Cortana was listed as missing. It was frustrating to think that all he and Emile had gone through had been for nothing. The enigmatic scientist, Dr. Catherine Halsey, who had given him the task of delivering the AI had seemed to put a lot of hope in humanities future on what Cortana possessed. And even now that edge seemed to be gone.

For Mike-B312 none of this ultimately mattered. He was a soldier. No, he was a Spartan, and his duty was to fight in the impossible situations. The news of late showed how impossible things were getting which meant he and his new team would be needed that much more. No, despite the shortness of time he had to be ready which meant he had to pick the right people.

"And you're sure you're going to pick a scratch group and not an existing team?" MacGregor prodded him.

"I'm positive. I don't want them too familiar since with me coming in to lead I want a fresh start. If we went with a set team there'd be too much history to overcome. We don't have time for that either."

"Shaking it up makes sense," the experienced NCO had to admit.

"But I will be looking for natural pairings," Mike added. "I don't want too much unfamiliarity since that could be just as problematic. I'm looking for the right fit."

"Okay, so let's go over what you have and see what we can find," MacGregor added with a new degree of urgency.

September 30, 2552 1835 Hours, Sydney, Australia, Planet Earth

Natalia sat across from her father and couldn't help but pick away at her meal. She'd been unable to figure out a way to get to Mars and try to find Mike despite possessing the information for nearly two weeks. She knew what city he was in, what he was doing and where. Trained by ONI, Natalia knew about holding her cards close to her chest. She had to be careful and not tip her hand. But now all she had to do was find a reason. Yet that had escaped her and it was causing tremendous distress and distraction for the driven woman. He was so close and yet so far. So she'd invited her father out for dinner in hopes of enlisting his help.

Spanner Misriah sat across from his daughter, methodically eating his blood rare steak. The billionaire industrialist couldn't help but think that the gorgeous young woman before him looked so much like her mother. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to his ex-wife.

His business had always gotten in the way of their relationship and unfortunately ambition was a jealous lover and so it had sabotaged his marriage. But he had Natalia, she was his greatest treasure and so he'd moved his headquarters operations from New York to Sydney after she'd come back from Reach. He was determined to restore some form of relationship with her so had relocated to his satellite office in the capital city of the United Earth Government with MacKenzie Wainwright and a small support staff.

But then the tactical businessman had to admit that wasn't his sole reason. He was also secretly shifting production from his main manufacturing base on Mars to a series of other less-known facilities after the defeat on Reach so this was a good way to monitor the UEG Industrial Council and keep them at bay. The bureaucratic organization would stall his relocation with red tape and so he was doing it without authorization. It was his empire and he wasn't going to allow some pencil pushers in Sydney to screw that up. Of course Niccolo his Smart AI could have handled most of this but there were some things that an Artificial Intelligence couldn't do. Like plot, scheme and distract. That took a human touch.

Misriah couldn't help but lament a bit the pragmatism of what he was doing. His desire was to reunite with his daughter and yet he was using it as an opportunity to stay ahead of the pack. Sadly, the brilliant strategist had to admit that was the story of his life.

The pair was in the finest restaurant in Sydney, a place where you had to be connected to get a table. The place was packed with high-ranking UEG officials, rich business people and glamorous entertainers. The Credits were flowing and it was the kind of place the masses would love to come to just look at the people.

Still, Natalia couldn't help but think back to the MRE's she'd eaten on Reach. The food at the restaurant was exquisite, the service impeccable, but the Meal, Ready-to-Eat had been shared with Mike and she'd actually been doing something with her life. There she'd actually made a difference, helped to save lives and fight a ruthless enemy. Here she was just taking up space. Still, her troubled mind reminded her, the fight had been futile. Reach had fallen, the planet glassed and likely millions had been slaughtered. Yes, she was alive but perhaps only due to the intervention of the man sitting across from her.

"Natalia?" her father said, trying to break her out of the funk she obviously was in.

"Pardon?" she replied a bit absently.

"I said, to what do I owe the honor of this invitation?" Spanner asked his daughter, his penetrating eyes boring into her.

"What do you mean?" Natalia asked, trying unsuccessfully to deflect the pointed question as he continued to look at his daughter as if analysing her like a stock chart.

"I mean you never ask me out for dinner and never to Tetsuya's unless you're looking for something," her father answered without a note of irritation. He was a man used to using all he had to get his way so didn't begrudge it in his daughter.

Natalia looked around the exclusive French-Japanese restaurant that had been famous for fine-dining for hundreds of years and tried to mask a tone of irritation. "And why do I need a reason to have dinner with my father, especially when he's been gone for so long lately?"

"Were that true," Spanner responded a bit wistfully. What sat before him was a product of his own creation, he reminded himself, but still, it was a pleasant illusion. "Very well, what have you been up to lately?"

"Nothing of note really," Natalia responded, unable to hide the tone of bitterness in her voice. "I feel like I'm stuck at the Hive. I do nothing other than shuffle files and prepare briefings. It seems like I have no place."

"Well you went through a lot on Reach," her father reminded her. "Command probably just wants you to get your feet back under you."

"I want to do something!" Natalia exclaimed sharply, then marshalling her growing emotions added, "I'd like to get off planet."

"What do you mean?" Spanner asked warily

"I don't know, maybe go on an inspection tour of some of your facilities," his daughter replied, trying to sound non-committal.

"Like where?"

"Like Mars, maybe?" Natalia could see the tension rise in her father at the mention of the planet. Though he did the best he could to seem neutral the veins on his neck bulged.

"I think you need to stay put and do your job," Spanner answered firmly. Then seeing the look of distress in his daughter softened his tone. "Give it time. Besides, you can't just pick what you want; Admiral Parangosky would need to approve any reassignment."

"What? And you couldn't ask her to approve something like this? I'm doing nothing of value now. Besides, you did it before when I was assigned to Noble Team on Reach," Natalia observed bitterly. "There's no difference."

"Much has changed since then Natalia," Spanner responded heavily, looking out the picture window onto Kent Street. Evening was falling on the popular heritage district and so the crowd was beginning to swell, all oblivious to the reality of what was happening in space not as far away as he would like. "It's not that easy. Besides, why mention Mars specifically? What's of interest there?" Spanner went back onto the offensive.

Natalia was caught off guard by the question. "I don't know…nothing. I just know you have factories there and it's been years since I've visited Mars." Her face reddened as she tried to mask her emotions.

"Well, I think for now you should stay put and focus on moving forward with your life," her father declared, noting his daughter's uneasiness. He would have a few questions for Niccolo his Smart AI when they were done.

"But…"

"But nothing. We're at war and you're in the Navy. You can't just go off on a whim because you're bored," he lectured. "Reach was different," the observant man cut his daughter off, correctly guessing her coming protest. "There was a purpose to that, to give you field experience. You got it, more than you needed. You are too valuable to be running off on foolish errands and putting yourself at risk. We have expendable people who do those types of things and they're not you."

Yea, like Mike, she said to herself bitterly. She would get no help from her father. That was little surprise but she couldn't help but be disappointed. She'd hoped all the events from late would have changed things between then but they hadn't. He was still playing games and she was still a piece in it. Natalia picked away at her food and tried to think of something else to talk about.

September 30, 2552, 1045 Hours, Losantiville, Seven Hills Region, planet Mars

Adam returned from a workout in the candidate's gym, deep in thought. Their training for the morning had been scaled back which meant another round of cuts was coming. The thoughtful teen had figured out the pattern over a week ago. There would be a series of tests and scenarios then a pause while Lieutenant Commander Mike and Gunny MacGregor would assess the results and pare the group down. At the pace they were going Adam figured it would only be another day or two before the final team was selected. He'd been challenged by the testing beyond anything he'd ever experienced but while some on his team had chaffed at it he'd been exhilarated. No matter what hardship or curve ball he'd risen to the challenge and more often than not been able to lead his team to success and so they were still in the hunt. He was also beginning to understand the Lone Wolf and his methods. Though the legendary Spartan seemed cool and detached, leaving the shouting to the gunny it was obvious he not only was a keen observer but he cared. But then Adam realized this was no abstract exercise for Mike-B312. He would be going into combat, he would be trusting his life, in the hands of these rookies. So it did matter to him. Adam also knew he wanted to be part of that team.

Entering the Rapier Team area Adam immediately knew something was wrong. Spencer was storming around the small space while Dilhan sat on his bunk with a forlorn look.

"What's going on?" Adam asked, a note of panic entering his voice as he began to realize his volatile teammate was packing.

"We've been released," he spat out in disgust. "The Lone Wolf has cut us loose. We're being sent back to the Gamma Company pool for assignment."

"What? How did you find you?"

"MacGregor called us in to see the boss. Told us we were done with this project but wished us luck."

"Just like that? We're done?" Adam couldn't believe it. All his hopes of working with this new team had just been jettisoned. What would they do?

"Not we, genius, me and Dilhan," Adam shot back, his beefy face reddening with anger.

"You mean…," Adam began but was cut off by Alissa.

"They're breaking up the team."

Try as he might to mask it the wave of relief that came over Adam was obvious to any looking.

"Yea, that's what I thought," Adam sneered, coming over to the smaller teen. "Just what you wanted, wasn't it? Get rid of me so you can be the hero."

Spencer, it's not like that!" Alissa protested.

"Shut up!" Spencer yelled back. "I hope you get picked for the team because you'll be dead in a month with that psycho leading."

The enraged teen clenched his fists and looked as if he was about to take his anger out on the smaller Adam. But he held his ground, meeting the stare of his bigger teammate. It was obvious by the look on his face that Spencer was considering taking a run at Adam but something in the steely look unnerved the bigger Spartan so instead he pushed past him and ordered, "Come on Dilhan, let's get out of here. We've not good enough for Mike's chosen," and stormed out of the room.

Adam breathed an imperceptible sigh of relief and then noticed that Maia had moved into a supporting position to cover him if things had gone bad. He met the grim look of the quiet girl and continued on with what he was doing. There was much Adam needed to think about but things stuck out, they were now at the point where they were breaking up the existing teams as they moved towards the final group and second, they were still part of it.

October 1, 2552, 0930 Hours, Losantiville, Seven Hills Region, planet Mars

Adam didn't have to wait long to get his answer. The next morning there were five candidates left. Three from Team Rapier and two from Team Claymore. No one talked as they ate breakfast, there was a sense of nervous anticipation for what was to come.

Gunny MacGregor entered the mess hall purposefully. "Adam, CO wants to see you in his office, now," the ODST NCO barked.

Maia and Alissa both looked at Adam with startled faces. They'd though the cuts were over. Panic seized the thoughtful teen since he'd gotten used to the idea of being on the new team, especially with his two remaining teammates. How could there be anyone else released, there was only five of them? Then it occurred to him, the rumor was out that another member of Noble Team had survived. Maybe he was going to be the fifth? Or someone else from Beta Company? Regardless, the teen had never felt heavier as he walked to his fate. Coming to the closed door of the team office he knocked.

"Come in," Mike ordered from within

"Adam-G040 reporting as ordered, sir," he stated nervously, standing at attention.

"At ease Adam, sit down," Mike ordered, offering a chair.

As Adam sat down he tried to assess the Lone Wolf. The famous Spartan was relaxed and he had a hint of a smile on his face. It wasn't the kind of look from an executioner about to dispatch a victim. The look didn't fit the situation but then the teen reminded himself that there would be no malice here, not with Mike. MacGregor maybe but not Mike, this was just war, it wasn't anything personal.

"Adam, I want to tell you how impressed I've been with your performance during testing the last few weeks, you've shown some exceptional skills," Mike began.

Oh no, here it comes, Adam thought, heart breaking, here comes the 'but there's no room for you on this team'.

"So that's why I'm promoting you to petty officer 1st class and naming you 2ic of the new team."

"What?" Adam blurted out in stunned surprise, not only at the change of perceived events but also that he was being promoted two ranks.

"You were expecting something else?" Mike asked with a chuckle, his granite grey eyes dancing.

"I…I thought you were going to send me packing," Adam confessed, still stunned by the news but he added a quick, "sir," trying to get back on track.

"No, far from it," Mike answered, still amused by the response of the naïve teen. I wonder if I was ever like that, he thought to himself, and then added, "You were the best candidate by far."

"Thank you, sir," Adam responded, proud of the recognition. Then the quick-thinking teen decided to take a risk and ask a question. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why didn't you pick an existing team rather than breaking us up?"

"Good question, petty officer," Mike said with a nod of satisfaction. "If you'll notice there are the remnants of two teams. I wanted familiarity but not too much familiarity. We are going to meld into a new unit, a new family, and that means a new direction. I didn't want to have to be the odd man out."

Adam observed Mike had an unusual, sad look come over his hard face, like the idea was upsetting to him. He'd never thought of Mike-B312 as being anything more than a legendary machine. Yet he realized the man was no different than he was. Maybe a little bit older, Adam figured he was in his early 20's, but yet they had a shared experience and Mike wanted to fit in as much as he did. That gave the teen a new respect for their commanding officer.

Mike watched the teen processing his response and could see him mulling it over. Adam was a thinker, Mike observed, and didn't jump into things hastily like many of the Spartan III's did which was a good character trait. He was happy with the teen's response.

"Makes sense, sir," Adam affirmed. "I can see why that would be a concern for you."

"Glad to hear it," Mike responded, and then playfully added, "and besides, would you really have wanted to go into combat with Spencer?"

Adam couldn't help but laugh out loud at his commander's correct assessment.

"All right, let's go and formally introduce the new team," Mike declared, ready to move forward.

By the time Mike and Adam returned to the mess hall the four remaining Spartans were already standing in line with Gunny MacGregor off to the side. Catching the pair enter the room the NCO barked out, "Officer on the deck."

The four immediately came to attention, eyes forward.

"As you were," Mike responded.

The new team moved to the at-ease position smoothly and Adam joined the end of the line.

Mike noticed Maia gave Adam the slightest look, which he responded to. Good, he thought to himself, they're communicating already. "Listen up. You can probably figure out by now that you five are my new team. We put you through a lot. Some of it was fair, a lot wasn't. The purpose was to test you to find out those who were suitable for small party, close quarters combat. I'm not looking for robots I'm looking for Spartans who can think and react independently. And you are it. You've been tested also on your skills and abilities and so Gunny MacGregor is now going to let you know what your role will be on the new team. Gunny."

"Sir!" MacGregor snapped to attention and came to the center of the room. "We threw a lot at you because we were looking for the best of the bunch because a lot will be expected of you. Know this, it'll only get harder from here. Still, well done." He crisply took the datapad from under his arm and began to read out the contents on the screen. "Adam-G040, promoted to petty officer first class, role, second-in-command. Maia-G252, petty officer third class, role, comms and team medic. Alissa-G170, petty officer third class, role, sniper. Terrell-G247, petty officer third class, role, heavy weapons. Matt-G101, petty officer third class, role, assaulter."

MacGregor gave a nod at the conclusion and returned to his previous place. As the ODST walked past Terrell he asked in a low voice, "How's that leg of yours?" referring to the first day of training when he'd cracked the tall African-American Spartan behind the knees for speaking out of turn.

"Fine gunny, no problem," Terrell answered, having forgotten the incident and moved on.

"Good lad," MacGregor answered. "You're going to do very well."

Mike looked at the five who returned his gaze, satisfied with his choice but nervous for the days ahead. "That is all. You can relax for the morning, you earned it, but right after lunch we begin our real training. What you've gone through was testing, now we begin to prepare for what's ahead. Welcome to the Wolf Pack."