Sorry about taking so long on getting anything done. My life has been a hurricane of college hunting and personal issues lately. I haven't had much time to work on my stories, and I would rather take my time than rush and turn out something half-assed and not worth reading. Speaking of which, to those of you who have read my story over on FictionPress, I have taken it down to redo it or, possibly, get rid of it entirely; I just don't feel like I did a good job with that one. Either way, hope you enjoy this one, and please consider reviewing, favoriting, or following.

Also, this chapter is dedicated to my fellow author Andrithir, with my wishes for a speedy and full recovery from his car crash.

At the sight of the Director, the three of us snap to attention.

"As you were," the Director says, "Nevada, it was my understanding that you would be in the medical bay."

"With all due respect, sir," I say, "I need to be the one to interrogate him. Not only will it demoralize him and make him talk sooner, but I need to show this bastard that it'll take a lot more than one bullet to kill me."

A shadow of a grin crosses the Director's face, "Well spoken, Nevada. Continue."

"Thank you, sir," I say darkly and head into the interrogation room. The lights are off, but I can perfectly see a table tilted at a forty-five degree angle, with the Insurrectionist saboteur tied to it by his torso and his two remaining limbs. The man is wearing a gag, and his eyes flick around the room rapidly as he grunts a few times, having heard me enter. I pull off the gauze over my eye, feeling the sting of air making contact with the still-raw wound, and I hit the lights. The Innie's eyes shoot open, and he grunts frantically, struggling against his bonds with all his might.

"Don't bother," I say as I walk around him, "Those ropes are made to hold people much stronger than you." I extend the blade in my watch and cut the gag, and the man gasps for air.

"Y- you," he stutters, "You're dead! I saw you die!"

"Obviously not," I say, pointing to my eye, "Although you did manage to give me a little trophy. Now it's my turn." I jab my blade into his upper arm, and he screams. After a few moments I pull it out and walk in front of him.

"Now," I smirk evilly, "Let's get started, shall we? How long have you been involved with the Insurrection?"

The man sobs, "About three years ago... I was a crewman on a trading ship, but we got attacked. They killed the captain... threatened to do the same to us if we didn't join... I had to..."

My eyebrow quirks in surprise. I hadn't been expecting him to talk this early. I begin pacing in front of him, making a show of cleaning my knife as he whimpers and sobs.

"So," I say, "Why were you sent here?"

"I'm a nobody," he says, "I can get in places because people don't expect me. I was sent here to monitor the Project and sabotage a bit when necessary."

"So, why did they order you to attack now, instead of just before a mission?"

"They needed a distraction. They were planning some big op, and they needed me to distract you while they made their initial move, because this is the closest ship."

"What kind of op?"

"I don't know. They mentioned something about a planet. Something about predecessors, or forerunners, or something."

This revelation makes my blood run cold. Innies with Forerunner artifacts could doom entire planets, and the entire UNSC at worst.

I exit the room and turn to Wyoming, who's been watching the whole time.

"Keep working on him," I say, "He already seems plenty responsive, you shouldn't need to do much other than ask."

"Right," he says, "I'll have everything he's got in no time." He walks into the room, and the bulkhead seals.

I turn to the Director. "Sir," I say, "Did you catch that?"

"Yes I did, Nevada," he drawls, "And I know how powerful Forerunner artifacts are. After all, I have read the reports, including some by Doctor Halsey."

"Speaking of Halsey, sir, permission to take the other Spartans and secure the artifacts?"

"Granted. We cannot allow the enemy this advantage, and you Spartans have more experience with Forerunner artifacts than any other Freelancers."

"Thank you, sir. We'll leave as soon as I'm geared up."

"Excellent. Dismissed."

I turn and run down the hallway, tapping my watch interface to open a comm channel to Oregon, Colorado, New Mexico, California, Virginia, and Angel.

"Spartans," I say, "Innies have discovered Forerunner tech, and we're going to stop them cold. Gear up for an extended mission and get to the hangar. Angel, prep for flight and pack some major ordnance, they're bound to have heavy defenses."

All of the others confirm my orders, and I dodge around the corner and into the rec room. I key open the door to my room to find Virginia collecting her gear. I head to my locker and start putting on the undersuit to my armor, and feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Virginia asks, "We're perfectly capable of taking care of this on our own."

I turn around and put my arms around her. "I'm fine, Nira. All I need is a couple painkillers every now and then, but I'll be fine. When we get back, I'll start working on schematics for a working prosthetic, but for now I'll have to cope with just one. Leo and my visor can help with that."

"Alright," she says, "But I'll be watching you like a hawk."

"I wouldn't expect anything less." I return to putting on my armor, which I finish in about ten minutes. I grab my battle rifle and pistols and make sure I have my spare attachments in my hip compartment, then I walk to the door. Nira is leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, her helmet already on, and she nods to me. I put my helmet on and nod back, and we head down the hallway.

A few minutes later we reach the hangar, where the others are already assembled. Oregon has somehow managed to convince California to lend him a tomahawk, which is hanging on his waist opposite from his sword.

"Everyone's ready," Colorado says, "The others are helping load up supplies, we'll be good to go in two."

"Let's get it done," I say, "Everyone pitch in, we gotta leave ASAP! Move it, people!"

The others begin loading crates, and we're done in about a minute. The other Freelancers wave goodbye and leave the hangar, and my team and I get into the Pelican. Angel begins the takeoff sequence and opens a channel to hangar control.

"This is Osprey Four Eight Two," Angel says, "We are green for takeoff."

"Roger that," the man on the other end says, "Fly safe."

We leave the hangar and streak towards the planet. I stand up, walk to the rear door, and turn to face the others.

"Alright," I say, "So when we hit the dirt we'll need to set up camp. New Mexico, you're in charge of setting up security, getting some secure comm channels, camouflaging the camp, and so on. Colorado, you'll find a good position to provide overwatch of the camp and the surrounding area, and get some sniping and recon gear set up. Oregon, you're on recon, find any nearby threats and evaluate them; neutralize only if they're an immediate danger. California, Virginia, and I will set up shop and help out where necessary. Desmond, I need you to find a list of good camp sites. Something tactically sound, and with a couple of good landmarks nearby so we can find our way back."

Desmond pops up on Oregon's shoulder. "Got one, boss," he says, "Large cave in a mountain. It's a good distance away from any Innie bases, far enough that they shouldn't be able to detect the Pelican. Which, by the way, can fit in the cave with a good deal of extra room."

"Fantastic," I say, "Forward the coordinates to Angel. Also, could one of you make a list of the plants and animals on this planet? I'd like to know what we can or can't eat."

"Can do," Maya says and disappears.

"Leo," I say, "Find all Innie bases and mark them on our maps, and try to find some patterns in any traffic in or out of them. Scythe, see if you can find any unclaimed Forerunner tech, so we can mark it and see where the Innies hold their stashes. Maybe find a way to modify trackers to get the layout of the base."

"Got it," they both say.

"Approaching the LZ," Angel says over the speakers, "Get ready to disembark."

"Acknowledged," I say, "I'm coming up front." I walk up to the front of the pelican and hop in the copilot's seat. The first thing I notice is the massive mountain looming ahead of us, and the seemingly small cave about a third of the way up. Within a minute we are in the cave, inside which Angel has ample room to turn the Pelican so it's facing the exit. Angel powers down the Pelican and I head back to the troop bay.

"Alright, people," I say, "Get to it."

We jump out of the Pelican and scatter, getting to our assigned tasks. California, Virginia, and I begin unloading crates and setting them up in an organized fashion. Within a few hours our camp is completely set up, and we each pull out a couple of MREs. After we finish, Colorado steps outside to take first watch as the rest of us head over to the sleeping area. Nira lays down beside me and puts her hand on my side, and I turn to face her. We fall asleep holding hands, listening to the crackling of the fire and the noises of the creatures in the forest below.