Careful Diplomacy

Kyle fought to regulate his breathing as he reached for a clip from one of the infected corpses.

Full, he discovered, replacing the half-depleted one in his pistol. Good.

"When you're finished scavenging, I could use your help with the elevator."

Steiner raised his eyebrows. No taunting, inane interrogation or trying to act like a Drill Sergeant anymore? Clearly the strife of the last six hours mellowed that attitude right out of the Corporal, or whatever rank the bastard had.

"Right." Rising to his feet, he approached the holo-panel and hesitantly moved a small string of symbols with his index finger, then quickly retracted his hand when he heard an audible click. "I think that did it…" His guess was confirmed when the platform under their feet began moving.

Walter scanned the area above them with the flashlight of his assault rifle, waiting for even a single one of those killer turnips to pop out of a corner, or any other hitchhiking Covie tangos. God only knew what happened to the two they lost almost an hour ago.

"You held your own back there with that split-lip." he commented. "Tell you what, if we make it out of this-"

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Kyle rebuked. The last thing he wanted was for his 'ally' to swear his silence.

"Don't assume you know what I was going to say."

"Don't I? For the most part my assump-my intuition has saved both of us. The only time it failed me was when I'd guessed you wouldn't recognize me. It was almost three years, after all."

"...and the only reason I've been able to 'hold my own' with that Elite and the tech back there…" he paused. "Something about the system was familiar to me, but I can't put my finger on what or how."

"Like you couldn't put your finger on how you got here?"

Kyle shook his head in frustration. "First of all, I never said that. What I did say was that it seemed improbable that I-"

His response was swiftly interrupted by gunfire and various roars and shouts from above. The conclusion of their ascent welcomed them to a shootout between more of the monsters and yet another Spec-Ops deployment of Sangheili and Unggoy. Between the shootout and the only exit available, Walter and Kyle were left with virtually no cover.

"Red on red...Target the infected!" Walter directed. Kyle nodded in affirmative.

As the duo fired their way through the infection swarms, Walter soon bellowed to make a run for the exit. Kyle didn't need to be told twice, and sprinted for dear life towards the already visible swamp.

A scream drew his attention back to the ramp he ran from.

"Walter!"

He saw the Marine struggling against one of the small aliens, already trying to burrow into him.

He knew he should've kept running, shouldn't have even hesitated, but in doing so he'd already made his decision. He rushed towards Walter, shooting down two Combat Forms who were slowly limping towards the Marine, and yanked the creature off of him. Too late did he realize a whole second group of the infectors followed suit and set their sights on him.

There was little he could do except thrash and try to throw the bastards off him, but to no avail as they dug through his skin and-

The shock from the memory jolted him awake. Not wasting a moment, Kyle kicked the sheets aside and steered himself to the bathroom, setting the sink's water as cold as possible and splashing his face several times, until the heat from the fear and guilt had receded. It all happened so fast at the time, but now that he wasn't trying to dodge plasma or the teeth and tentacles of those Infection Forms, he had time to process his predicament.

Kyle shook his head as he looked at himself in the mirror. "Somehow I'm the one who managed to make it out alive and you didn't. How?" He shook his head again as he realized he wouldn't get an answer to that question anytime soon. Grabbing the towel, he softly padded his face, content with leaving a little bit of moisture. When he stepped out, he found a visitor was waiting.

"Yes?" he addressed curtly.

The visitor in question, a Number Five if Kyle remembered correctly, paid no heed to his terse greeting. "A meeting has been convened in the wake of your assistance in the tylium operation. Your presence is requested." The man stressed the final word in a manner that indicated it was anything but a request.

Kyle nodded and moved to change between his nightwear and a more appropriate formal setup for this 'meeting.

"Let's go." The Five immediately moved to leave, with Kyle jogging to catch up with him.

Just as before, Kyle was baffled by the Cylons' navigation ability in their own ships. Right when it seemed like they'd already passed through one corridor, he was sure they were going through it again.

"Can I ask," Kyle cleared his throat. "Do you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

Kyle raised his eyebrows. "How?"

The Five stopped and turned to face him. "Do not ask questions to which we can't give answers.

"What harm is there in revealing something I'll probably figure out anyway?"

"Assuming you live long enough to..." A brief period of silence followed as the Cylon decided whether to answer. "Alright..." he finally said. "...in your travels, have you ever experienced a hallucination, however vague or vivid?"

Not once, Kyle wanted to answer, but in all honesty after what he'd been through, how much longer would that be true? "Not yet, I suppose..." he said nervously. "...but I've heard stories and seen vids about them, usually caused by severe psychological or physical trauma."

"Unlike those cases..." the Five explained. "...we can control when such things are induced; We can consciously manipulate our perception of our surrounding environment however and whenever we want."

Kyle mostly managed to hide his surprise at the revelation. He wasn't sure whether to classify it as something awesome or something dangerous. "Interesting..." he conceded with a nod, then… "wait, if you can do it any time you want...how does that work in the bunk?"

The Five resumed his course to wherever they were going. "Basically the same way it works in any other situation, except if the partner is also a Cylon, they can share each other's projections."

Kyle stayed silent for the remainder of their trek while this discovery raised a plethora of possibilities. To be able to induce controlled hallucinations at will and transmit that experience to others? A lot of humans would kill for a feat like that.

...and if they could share that, what else could these Cylons share? Furthermore…

"What environment do you surround yourself in?" Kyle asked.

The Five kept moving, but slowed his pace upon hearing the question, taking in the sights he cast before himself, acknowledging the privilege with a hint of pride. "A grand theater…right now…" Kyle suddenly found his shoulder grasped, and his vision flashed from the blank interior of the Baseship to a large open view of...a theater stage. "...we're walking down the aisles of the House, on our way to the stage."

Kyle stumbled as his foot met air, managing to keep himself from falling face-first along the slanted walkway.

His breathing quickened. This could not really be happening. Didn't the Five just say the exchange only worked with other Cylons?

"The human brain is incapable of such substitution in the midst of all the trappings of the real world. I can only imagine how dull the ship must seem to you, having the same exact walls, floors and lights to stare at."

"I've managed to stand it this long," Kyle answered carefully, turning to the hand on his shoulder. "Do you mind?" he prompted, and finally the hand left and the theater projection vanished, flashing back to the normal vision of the Baseship interior. Kyle had to stop for a moment to readjust. "Please don't do that again."

The Five chuckled in amusement, oblivious to the true cause of his charge's discomfort. "I'm well-versed in human squeamishness, but I did not expect you to be sensitive."

Kyle glared at the Cylon in annoyance. "The more you know," he replied sarcastically. "Are we at the 'stage' yet?"

"One corridor away," the Five answered, leading onwards again. "A left here...the first pathway on our right."

As soon as they made the left turn Kyle could hear a hushed but audible argument echoing down the hallway.

"...as was proven in the confrontation above Cydonus, we can offer resistance, but any sustained conflict against the Covenant would only result in catastrophic defeat."

"We've worked for decades to master the art of cyberwarfare, surely it would serve us in these instances as well."

"If so, the effectiveness would only be temporary. The humans have been fighting these creatures for years with every weapon and strategy they have, and it hasn't been enough. It is unlikely-"

"We aren't human."

"It is unlikely we would be any more successful."

By this point, Kyle was standing at the chamber's entrance, while the Cylons, one of each model, had yet to notice him. "Information is the key resource," said the Eight. "We currently don't have enough of it. Were we to have it, we can extend and utilize whatever influence on this war we want."

"...but how do we acquire this information? And from what or whom?" a honey-blonde Six said, turning to face Kyle at last. "Furthermore, how do we determine what information is reliable and relevant?" At this, all the Cylons turned to Kyle.

Wow, no pressure… he thought sarcastically. He needed to break the ice, now. "It takes a combination of patience, stubbornness, aptitude, and faith." Mostly aptitude.

"Welcome," a Two greeted. "Please," he gestured to the only empty chair at the end of the table, "take a seat."

Kyle did so graciously, offering a polite smile to the Six across from him and the Eight beside him. Only the Eight responded in kind, with the Six maintaining a stoic, disapproving stare. Okay, wild guess says that's Natalie. The Five took his seat soon after.

"As we were discussing before your arrival, the battle against the Covenant task force at Cydonus has raised numerous questions regarding our standing in this war between them and your people."

"I'm surprised that's even up for debate," Kyle interjected. "after you lost so many people backthere."

Concerned glances were exchanged among the Cylons as they realized no one explicitly explained the Resurrection process to him.

"To clarify, Mr. Steiner," the Four answered. "What is up for debate is not whether or not we'll encounter the Covenant again; That appears inevitable since we've moved to this sector of space and have minimal support. What is in question is how we could resolve future confrontations in our favor, and what purpose you could serve in these instances."

"As you are no doubt aware," a Three added. "the general consensus is to avoid these confrontations whenever possible, as we have no desire to involve ourselves in this war."

Kyle rested his head on a palm. He was only two minutes into this conversation and already he had a headache. "Sure, you could probably still hide in the dark, for a while...but you guys are already involved after what happened there, especially after we somehow blew up the planet. They already know you exist, there's not much chance of changing that, if any. If they haven't already figured out you're not UNSC, they will eventually, and then they'll pay much more attention."

"...due in large part to your 'assistance'" said Maybe-Natalie. "...which led us to be nearly eradicated by an alien parasite, and then again by alien genocidal fanatics. What's next? That A.I. will wake up and sabotage our fleet?"

"For the love of God, how many times are you going to beat the dead horse?!" Kyle snapped in angry retort. "If it weren't for me, everyone in this fleet of yours might have been infected while the rest of the Cylons were oblivious to what happened. If it weren't for me, all of you might've been wiped out at Cydonus instead of most of you...and you don't need to worry about Willow, her core logic processes were damaged during the mutiny, her self-deletion protocols probably failed. You'd be very lucky...or unlucky if you're so cynical, to get her to 'wake up' again."

"Besides," he continued. "Despite all these crises, you've clearly decided to remain here and explore further, rather than retreat to your known space. Why?"

A dead silence ensued as the Cylons and Kyle processed theirrefutable facts from the outburst. "...Because you want something from all of this." he realized.

"Something I know you won't help us acquire," accused Natalie.

"It is one of the deciding factors of your continued existence," the Number One finally spoke. "Which is why you're here."

"Since our creation, we've had nothing but our ships and fleets," the Three added.

"No habitable planet to call our own. We once used a world inhabited by our oppressors, taken after we extinguished them...but due to shifts in consensus, we abandoned it. We've been searching for another world since, and have found a suitable candidate."

"Which is…?"

Kyle didn't like the smirk the One gave. That had to be screaming bad news.

"Earth."

Fuck. Sometimes he really hated being right.

"Really?" he responded in an almost condescending tone. "You've found no other planets that would suit your interests?"

"Even if there are others, Earth is the one that we know exists," the One dismissed. "...and we need to know where it is."

"Didn't you guys just say a couple minutes ago that you didn't want to get involved in the conflict? That you'd rather see us annihilated?" Kyle rebuked. "Going to Earth would compromise that objective."

"As you were quick to point out, it's inevitable that we'll be involved."

"It's out of the question. I've crossed lines before, but this will not be one of them. I just can't."

"Well that's unfortunate," the One sneered. "Maybe change your tune after a few hours in the chair."

"You exceed your reach, brother," the Three admonished. "That decision cannot be made without a majority vote."

While the two Cylons began arguing with each other over the range of their respective authority, Kyle started running through scenarios in his head attempting to guess what the 'chair' was. Each of them pointed to the same conclusion: A contraption of torture, and likely one that was known for bleaching sanity.

"As of now, I don't think this is rocket science anymore," Kyle continued. "Since you've gotten a taste of what the Covenant are capable of, you should have some idea of what the UNSC can do…"

The Number Five, in his projection of the theater, turned to the House, now occupied with an audience of thousands of human soldiers.

"...now granted, even if you did somehow manage to defeat them and take Earth as your own…"

The human soldiers began bursting into flames, until the collective fire engulfed the entire house.

"...the losses you'd take from that assault would leave you weakened and even easier targets for the Covenant..."

Half of the fire died down, revealing various aliens of the Covenant having taken the soldier's places.

"...and that's not counting the retaliation you'd get from the human fleets in other colonies."

The other hemisphere receded to reveal the human soldiers unscathed by the flames.

"This all assumes I knew how to get to Earth anyway. My people have worked very hard to limit that knowledge. In case you guys have forgotten: the Cole Protocol. As we've been fighting an alien force for the last twenty years, and like I've said before, you'd effectively be judged as yet another enemy alien faction. Being welcomed with open arms is...not likely to happen."

"You judge the circumstances on the idea that they would realize our true nature," the Four stated. "Given that we've yet to meet them ourselves, this outcome can be avoided."

"Assuming this information is accurate," the Two interjected. "What would you propose as the next best course of action?"

Kyle was taken aback by the sincerity of the query. This model was if nothing else a mediator.

"Well, since you inexplicably insist on being involved in this mess in some way or another, how you impact it is ultimately up to you. To that end…" Kyle paused, gathering the words. "On the tylium planet, the expeditionary force uncovered a surveillance recording of a group of Ex-Covenant soldiers trapped within enemy territory. They're on borrowed time, pretty much guaranteed to be wiped out...unless we save them."

"...and rescuing these soldiers aids us how?" asked the Three.

"Off the top of my head? Improvements to your technology, another planet to settle at, but most importantly, it'd be a big step in building an alliance, something which you'll need if you find yourselves with your backs against the wall. And I get the impression that you will get cornered to a wall more than once in this little ride."

"We've engaged in combat countless times," the One remarked snidely. "We've never had our backs against the wall, and never will."

"Really?" Kyle shot back. "How did the battle over Cydonus turn out again? If you're so undefeatable, then the Covenant might as well be cheaters."

"We did manage to destroy a few of their ships- including one of their shielded ships," Three reminded.

"...after you had your backs against the wall, right?" Kyle remarked. "...and you sacrificed one of your ships and its nuclear arsenal to make that happen. I hope you don't plan to repeat that tactic, if you even could."

"Bottom line…" he continued. "...you're better off making friends than more enemies. Not to mention, those friends could help you against whatever enemies you've made."

He watched as the Cylons exchanged glances with each other. While the One and Four clearly disapproved, the Five and the Three seemed to ponder on the idea, the Eight appeared to be undecided while the Six-Natalie...well, Kyle didn't even need to look to guess her reaction.

"This...will require additional debate," the Three deduced. "Your presence is no longer required. Please return to your quarters."

Kyle blinked. Was she serious? Just dismissed like that, wait outside while his fate is decided, again?!Judging by the Five standing to escort him, he figured he had his non-answer. "Alright, but don't take too long. The Covenant aren't about to wait."

All the Cylons fell silent until the Five and Kyle were out of sight.

"I like how he said we're better off making friends than enemies," Natalie remarked. "...while ever since we took him in, we've made nothing but enemies."

"It's naive to blame him for circumstances outside his control," answered the Three.

"That's assuming they are in fact outside his control," the One accused. "I've seen that recording, and it seems foolish to assume those 'Heretics' would still be alive. For all we know, he's waiting for us to bring our whole fleet into his reach to use us all as a buffet for those Flood things."

"I would agree," said the Five. "Except he doesn't know the entirety of our population or ships, nor does he know about Resurrection."

"His testimony of the Cole Protocol is in line with the logs we recovered from the Zephyr," the Three added. "In which case, he doesn't have any way back into home territory. If nothing else, helping us is a means of ensuring his survival."

"So we're putting him on the same pedestal as Baltar?" said the Eight.

"He'll help us because he has no alternative," the Three answered simply.

"Unless we rescue those soldiers," the One warned. "Then will we still have this advantage?"

"Even if they're traitors to their people, they'd still be considered enemies of his," the Three dismissed. "We don't really know why he wants to help them, though his reaction to one of the...faces in that recording, may provide a clue. Perhaps...we could apply a certain degree of charm and gently extract this information from him."

As she finished voicing her suggestion, the Cylons in the room were silently wondering how, until the lightbulbs flashed in their heads and they followed her gaze to Leoben.

Kyle never made it back to his quarters; The grumbling of his stomach made sure of that. The Five instead led him on a detour to the Mess Hall. Upon entry he drew unwelcome stares from the Cylons within. Ignoring them as best he could, he briefly surveyed the room in search of the food. As it happened, it was all arranged like a buffet, consisting of plain vegetables, fruits and soups. Several types of toasted bread and sauces were kept to one side of the buffet, probably appetizers. Meat was rather scarce it seemed. Understandable, considering they probably didn't keep animals on their ships. Still...

...not even fake meat? Kyle thought bitterly, figuring it was one more reason to rescue the Sangheili. Those carnivores make excellent delicacies.

He could remember the thrill of trying a gaufki'ova for the first time. Taking a piece of the cooked, elongated leg, relishing the taste of the trace amounts of blood on his tongue, the feel of the grease against his four-digit hands…

Wait…

Kyle shook his head, veering himself back to reality. Vivid as the experience was, it was not his. Triple checking to make sure of that, he looked down and saw that he did in fact have five-digit hands, not four.

Realizing he had been standing there for about a minute and drawing the curious glares of a few Cylons he quickly grabbed a bowl and a ladle and randomly scooped one of the soups, quickly pouring it into the bowl and moving to find a table.

To his fortune, he found an empty table situated near the end of the room. This way he wouldn't be the center of attention of any particular group, and would be perfectly easy for his guide to spot. He sat so he could see the other tables and the entryway, observing the Cylons and enjoying his food in silence.

Stirring the soup in his bowl, he measuredly took his spoon and sipped the rather warm broth. Kyle's eyes momentarily widened with delight. The Cylons might not have meat, but they clearly made up for it with other foods. He wished he'd grabbed a slice of the complimentary bread; The soup would probably be perfect to dip it into. Better yet, they could've made one of those bread bowls for the soup, like the brunch dish he'd have on Reach every weekend…

"Enjoying your meal?" Kyle looked up, somewhat startled out of his partial reminiscing to see one of the Number Two's standing over him.

"Much." he answered with a nod. "I didn't expect to find this kind of culinary proficiency on a warship."

"It does not surprise me to hear that we exceed certain standards," he answered, with proffered slice of bread in hand. "I'm Leoben. May I join you?"

Kyle raised his eyebrows. This was a nice shift from the general behavior of the Cylons he'd been subjected to so far. "By all means," he permitted, accepting the offered bread. "As you probably already heard, I'm Kyle Steiner."

"I know. We met at the conference room."

"Oh…" Kyle gave a nervous chuckle. "...of course."

"I apologize for the… rash behavior of some of my colleagues."

"Don't," Kyle brushed off. "You're worried about the safety and survival of your people. I respect that. If I met some stranger genetically altered by the most dangerous lifeform in the galaxy I'd be more than a little wary myself. Uh, not that I'm complacent instead…"

"...if you don't mind my asking," he continued. "Are Cylon debates usually that contentious?"

"Hmm," Leoben hummed, reminiscing the Cylons' encounter with the diseased Basestar at the Lion Head nebula. "No, it can actually be much worse. More...vocal, and far more difficult to resolve. It happens far more often than humans could tolerate. It has to, because of the way our society developed."

"I guess that's not as much of a problem for androids. You could argue for centuries before coming to a decision."

Now Leoben was the one to chuckle. "Fortunately, most conflicts don't even last for a month, or year. Most of the laws and edicts in our society were established after achieving majority consensus."

"That explains why every model was there..." Kyle realized. "...and why I'm now waiting for their decision. Will this debate take a month?...Ah. No wonder you're here."

"When you mentioned the recording you found at Cydonus, it raised a few questions among the others. Questions I'm certain I already have the answers to."

"...but you want to hear them from me anyway, just to see if you're right?" Kyle finished, taking a sip of the broth from the bowl as he prepared for the narration.

"I was quite content on Reach, my planet. Life was relatively uneventful, I was about to graduate and search for a real job. The Covenant attack interrupted all of that. One thing led to another and I was running for my life, always trying to find an evac ship that would end up leaving right before I reached the port. Eventually I ended up stowing aboard a warship and posing as one the crew. Said warship was attacked by Covenant ships which pursued us. We ended up crashing on an alien world. Ended up fighting for my life and working to remain unnoticed by my peers. There were instances where I ended up not caring if I got off the planet alive or dead, but fortunately, that changed…"

"How so?"

"Well," Kyle continued. "When you learn that your enemies motives for trying to kill you are based on lies, it tends to inspire you to do something about it. About halfway through my ventures on the world I came across some interesting information about the planet, and then even more important details after the…"

He reached out one of his arms and stared at it as though he expected it to change into something else at any second. "...transformation, for lack of a better word." He lowered his arm. "That Sangheili I first saw in the recording...he was the first one I ran into after my incident. We obviously didn't meet under the best of circumstances, resulting in that scar on his face. I couldn't get through to him myself, but I did find someone who could. Another one of those Monitors, like the one we found at Cydonus. I guess that worked, seeing as he's with those rebels now."

"So this rebellion is your doing."

Kyle didn't answer, instead responding with a question of his own. "Maybe... I honestly didn't expect anyone here would care about my motives, least of all you. No offense."

"I can see your concern for the welfare of these rebels, or at least for that one individual, is genuine. The others are either oblivious to it or will refuse to see it for what it truly is. They would see your cause as naïve. I see it as noble...a quality we thought extinct in humans. It's in our nature to recognize the patterns, to see how the current leads us to…" He shook his head. "Nevermind, I did not come here to bore you."

"Well I might be more receptive if I wasn't short on time...to live, and all that."

"Of course," Leoben agreed. "The Twos will vote in favor of your continued existence as well as your cause," he rose from his seat and offered his hand to Kyle once more. It was promptly accepted and shaken. "I cannot promise the same of the others, however. You may need to offer...additional concessions."

As soon as Leoben was gone, Kyle sighed and shook his head. 'Additional concessions?' Great, like what?

"Transmute protein 47 from enzyme 230. They're not particular, favoritism is limiting. Reaching for the dark star that hides in the light, always on the verge of being engulfed. Polarity equilibrium of core unbalanced, please refrain from exposing to sorrow, harsh language or humiliation. End of line..."

Back and forth the Number One known as Cavil paced by the tank containing the elusive Hybrid. As the thing continued to gibber, he almost wished he had the insanity that the Twos clearly possessed; They always seemed to make more sense out of what these delirious dead-ends were conveying.

Though it would be a frozen day in hell before he admitted it, the implication that these Hybrids knew something about the Cylons' 'guest' that he did not frightened him. His model had already cast their vote against the boy's so-called 'rescue mission,' putting the Cylons in a deadlock between the Ones, Fours, Fives, against the Twos, Threes and Eights. The final decision remained with the Sixes.

All Cavil could do now was hope that the animosity generated between the boy and the Six called Natalie would work in his favor.

Though he didn't like the prospect of 'serving' in any military sense of the term, Kyle was starting to miss the work he did on Cydonus, seeing as now, being in his quarters with no nav sheets or any idea what the Cylons were up to now after reintroducing the concessions of this potential alliance, he realized he hated being left to his thoughts.

Especially when the majority of those thoughts revolved around that damnable encounter on Halo. Even now, as he stared down his freckled arms, he flashed back to the moments when he and Walter had to face those zombie-things the aliens turned their squadmates into...wondering not if, but when his time in God's good graces would tick-tock to a halt.

Kyle was relieved when those thoughts were interrupted by the audible tapping of heels getting closer, which immediately ruled out Leoben or any other male model.

His relatively cheerful greeting sombered upon the sight of a Six who very much resembled…

"Ms. Faust?" Kyle guessed. She declined to answer, her expression a mixture of confusion and irritation. She seemed to be debating with herself over why she was even there.

This is not gonna' turn out well if she keeps looking at me like that, Kyle thought. You do not want to waste her time. Come on Kyle, say something…

"Are we ever going to get past the Zephyr?"

Wow, way to go there, Murphy. See you out the airlock.

Natalie visibly struggled to keep her shoulders from tensing any more. "Good question…" she let the rest of her answer hang silently, once again unsure why she bothered to come here. "Why do you care what happens to those rebels?"

Kyle tilted his head. He figured Leoben would've told her, and pretty much everyone else that answer already. "This war has gone on long enough. I'd like to take the chance to end it before we all lose everything. Your people included."

"To the Flood? The Covenant?"

"The Covenant…they don't matter." Kyle scoffed. "Not anymore. Even though they've let the Flood loose, they still can't comprehend what they've unleashed…" A tense sigh followed. "Whatever you think you have or had planned for Earth, is nothing compared to the damage the Flood will do if they ever get loose again."

"Like I mentioned earlier, 'containment' would have failed if not for the efforts of a certain soldier not blown up that ring, but it's not enough. We need every asset we can get to ensure it can't happen again."

"How is the Thirteenth Tribes war and this rebellion related?"

"The war revolves around the technology used to contain the Flood; Technology that is being used as a perverted object of worship to its makers, the Forerunners. This rebellion is a result of their discovery of this perversion, and the danger that provokes. If it fails...I hope at this point I don't have to reiterate the consequences that we as an intra-galactic community would face. If on the other hand it is successful-"

"With our help," Natalie piped in.

"With the help of whomever saves them first," Kyle corrected. "They'd likely sign an armistice with their rescuers." Now he felt he had an idea what kind of 'concession' to offer. "Take into account that these soldiers would initially see you as humans. Then they learn you're not, plus you saved their sorry asses and they will owe you. Building that kind of alliance will provide the benefits you Cylons will want if you hope to last in this part of the galaxy."

"As that alliance expands…" he continued. "The Covenant will have another problem to worry about, which still leaves Earth viable in the ridiculous event you change your minds, and we'll have the forces we need to contain...or destroy the Flood."

The Six relaxed slightly, though she was still obviously stressed. She momentarily diverted her attention away while deciding what to do. A long moment later, she turned back to him. "You'll get a chance to back up your words. I hope, for your sake, that you can."

When she was gone, Kyle felt all of his own tension leave as he let his head fall back on the pillow. It was going to happen.

Understandably, Natalie's vote caused quite an uproar between the Cylons, especially One. She briefly wondered if that would have happened had she voted against the mission. She kept her silence until the Three managed to bring everyone to order once again.

"Since this mission is proceeding, we need to find out what we're dealing with. Do we have the coordinates for the system these rebels are in?"

"Roughly," the Four reported. "We extrapolated the location from the nav display the expedition team observed on Cydonus."

"Alright, we'll deploy a wing of Raiders to recon and verify the coordinates," said the Three. "We also need to make sure we have a Resurrection ship ready to go, as well as equipping necessary armaments on the Baseships."

"Baseship," Cavil chimed in. The Three turned to him like he just contradicted his mother. "Or did you really think we could really commit our whole task force to this? Then the rest of the fleet in our space is left in the dark."

"Surely we could spare at least another?" the Eight insisted. "The mission doesn't stand a chance with just one ship."

"No, he's right," the Five argued. "The rest of our force hasn't finished refueling, we don't want to send them in half-empty, and if we die, whatever intel we've gathered on these new threats dies with us."

"You could always abort this mission," Cavil suggested.

"We'll leave that to Mr. Steiner to decide," the Three resolved. "Six, inform him of the...unpleasant circumstances. If he decides to continue, bring him to us so that he may relay his strategy."

"Assuming he will have one," Cavil remarked.

"Wait!" the Three called as Natalie prepared to leave. "Not until the recon is complete." Natalie nodded and took her seat once again.

"As it stands, we are at a disadvantage," the Four stated. "We stand only a marginally higher chance of success in a ground war against our enemies. The weaponry their troops utilize tore through many of our troops, most noticeably our models."

"What about the Centurions?" Natalie added.

"The alloy we use for their armor appears to be more resilient to their basic armaments," Doral reported. "Though unfortunately not impenetrable. Continual fire can burn through. As well, those grenades they use can't stick to the armor, but are still capable of crippling entire deployments."

"The cannons that these 'Gal...lerka...'", he sighed in defeat. "...Hunters utilize are a problem, especially if Centurion deployments are kept close together," continued the Four. "We'll need to make adjustments to combat software to account for these vulnerabilities." added the Five.

"We should also examine telemetry from the Cydonus battle," Leoben suggested. "If any of the Raiders discovered weaknesses in the enemy fighter craft, especially in their shielding, the others need to know."

"Speaking of shielding," the Three interjected. "Can we make any improvements to any of our munitions to negate that inconvenience?"

"Not likely enough," Doral answered. "The UNSC did make some interesting breakthroughs but overall their hand-held weapons and ammunition are not terribly far ahead of our own."

"I wish I had better news for the cyberwarfare research," the Eight said.

"Is there nothing we can use?" The Six implored of the Eight.

"Not with the Zephyr intelligence in her current state, and not without code and systems in active use that I can analyze."

Natalie turned to the Three as she made her next suggestion. "What about the Phantom? I imagine it might see a bit of use in this mission." The Three momentarily faced her before turning back to the Eight.

"That's the problem. Unless we dissect the ship down to basic components, we won't be able to garner much besides basic encryption key and root structures.

"Then hold off on those efforts for the time being," the Three decided. "We will likely need that ship as is until the conclusion of this operation. Any other tactical discoveries?"

"Biology," the Four answered. "Some of these aliens, especially the saurian creatures the UNSC calls "Elites", possess strength that easily trumps the strength of any human. Additionally, they appear to possess a greater vision arc than human eyesight."

"The Centurions will need to account for that as well. Make it happen. Anything else…?"

After a suitable degree of silence, she declared the meeting adjourned.

"Yeah...not sure how you found this place, but it's definitely the wrong one."

"We're not in the wrong place. We're making calculated jumps to avoid unnecessary contact. We have one more jump before we arrive at our destination."

"Hmm." Kyle nodded in understanding. He was almost going to ask why they'd bother with multiple jumps if the recon covered their route beforehand, but two still sounded rather reasonable.

Assuming they were going to jump again at some point. For whatever reason they'd been in this system for almost five minutes now.

"Just relax," advised the raven-haired Three, whom Kyle guessed was Cassandra. "Need-to-know basis and you're undoubtedly going to know soon enough."

That's not exactly comforting… Kyle ran a hand through his hair. Just as long as we get to Threshold soon. This had better be worth it.

All he could really do at this point was watch as the hyper-focused Cylon crew sent God knows what kind of instructions through those data-fonts. Would it have really been so difficult for them to provide him with some sort of visual display so that he wasn't six steps behind everyone else? He needed to find some way to pass the time if he was going to stay sane through this trip.

"Hey, Cassie, can I call you Cassie?" he started. "I'm curious: Most of your model is peach blonde. Why the different hair color?"

"Mainly a choice in design variety by our creators. Sometimes we change it ourselves for the purposes of infiltration. After my mission in the colonies was finished, I never really saw any need to change it again. A choice not necessarily forbidden, but, unorthodox…"

"I can see that," Kyle agreed. "Amongst a bunch of other Threes you'd stand out like a sore thumb."

"No more than Natalie would stand out amongst numerous Sixes."

Kyle raised his eyebrows in thought. "True."

Alone, in a chamber aboard the gas mining station at Threshold, Ensa Suvom was doing his best to curb his frustration. While anger served as a useful tool to improve focus in certain situations, this one was not among them.

The only regret he had of severing contact with the Covenant was the loss of access to a very large array of information. Perhaps the Prophets had secrets locked away somewhere, one of which being a clue regarding the entity he encountered at the ring, the one responsible for leaving the gash just underneath his eye.

Perhaps a still of its face? A suggestion that it is not the only one of its kind? Or even that it never left the ring before it was destroyed?

Growling in resignation, the Sangheili discontinued the search protocol on the terminal. Guessing wasn't going to bring him any closer to answers at this point. There was nothing to suggest it was still alive.

...but if it is, he thought. Then the Covenant will be the least of our worries.

"Oracle," he acknowledged as he heard the tell-tale mechanical whirs and sputters of the revered machine hovering close by.

"I have detected elevated heart-rate and minor adrenaline increase, suggesting distress. Do you require assistance, Ensa Suvom?"

"Yes," Suvom answered immediately. If anyone were to possess knowledge of the abomination, it would be the Oracle. "I seek knowledge of a victim of the Flood. One whose infection is...unique."

"Unique?" the machine known as 343 Guilty Spark repeated to itself. "Your use of the word would suggest abnormal physical alteration to the compromised subject...ah, a human male, was it?"

"You know of it?" Suvom pressed. The Oracle responded by moving itself a few inches away from the Sangheili and projecting a holographic facsimile of said human.

"This former Reclaimer was a member of a team which pursued one of your own, searching for weapons your people evidently left behind when they released the Flood. Like many of the others, this subject was caught by surprise and compromised, though this was not verified until a Sentinel patrol detected and scanned him."

That explained how it came to be what it was, but Suvom was not satisfied. He still needed to know… "Does it still live?"

The machine slightly aimed its face downwards. "Unlikely. The Sentinels were ordered to terminate the subject on sight, but once the Flood began altering atmospheric conditions, tracking capability was reduced. 40% of the Installations surveillance systems were rendered non-functional. There is a 96% probability he was killed when the Installation was irreparably damaged."

"Good. The galaxy is better for it. My only regret is that I will never know why it wanted me to seek you out."

If a machine could show surprise, Spark certainly did. "You communicated with the subject?"

"After I failed to kill it," Suvom admitted bitterly. "I thought it dead after our first confrontation, but I found it again-no, it found me. I tried once more to kill the beast, but I failed again, and it fled. "

"It spoke to you during this encounter?" said Spark.

"When I was…" Suvom clenched his fists at the memory. "When it...defeated me, and spared me... it told me to find you."

"Fascinating. Such interaction, especially an act of mercy, suggests the subject may have retained sentience, possibly even higher cognitive capacity."

"We do not know why it wanted me to discover you, Oracle. It could be a deception." Especially if it was under the Parasite's control, revealing the key to the truth of the Great Journey may have simply been an act of self-preservation.

"Even so, it warrants further study, if in fact the subject is still alive, which again is unlikely."

Suvom remained doubtful of that conclusion. If the Demon could escape the ring…

His thoughts drifted to the Flood that remained imprisoned aboard this very station. If there was a chance they could draw that...thing here…

Suvom hoped he was wrong.

Kyle was caught somewhere between awestruck and annoyed. When he was suddenly being escorted to one of the docking bays, all he could think about was how much he disliked surprises. When he boarded the Heavy Raider, waited until the ship lifted off into the stars, and was called to step towards the cockpit, he decided this was one very rare exception.

Before him lied the hulk of what was obviously a warship that had seen its share of battle. Although geometrically speaking it looked nothing alike, the bulky image vaguely reminded him of the Pillar of Autumn.

"This is need-to-know, huh?" he remarked. "So what is that?"

"A Colonial Battlestar," answered the pilot. "These ships were the mainline fighter carriers and battleships employed by their military."

"You don't seem too alarmed by the sight of an enemy ship right in front of us."

"It's empty," the pilot answered simply. "If our Raider patrol hadn't caught a visual of it, we wouldn't have even realized it was here."

"O-kay…" Kyle said, confusion evident in his tone. "So if there's no crew and it's not powered up, what are we doing here?"

"Determining whether it should be repaired and refitted. Or rather, you're here to decide that."

That's when it finally became clear to Kyle this was his operation. For all intents and purposes, this was his call to make.

"Well, by all means. Proceed. If you could contact Natalie and tell her I'd like in on one of those meetings, that'd be great. I have ideas for this ship..."

Phew, certainly took a while, didn't we? My fault, mainly, for having such a hectic schedule this last semester, which ended four days ago; Yay.

So if it isn't obvious by now, the next chapter is definitely a tie-in with Halo 2, but that's about as close to canon as this story's going to get. You can expect major deviations once more afterwards.

Hope you've enjoyed this story so far. Stay tuned!