Guilty Sparks

by General Rage

Fleeing from the glassing of Reach in the belly of the Pillar of the Autumn, the crew of the SR-2 Normandy find themselves stranded with their UNSC allies on a strange Forerunner constructed ring world called Halo with the Covenant hunting them. But Halo holds a secret, one deadlier than both the Covenant and Reapers combined... and it's hungry.

11. Lies & Opposition

Chapter 10: Lies and Opposition

September, 19th, 2552

This had not been the day he was hoping for. The aliens had forced the humans to ground, delaying Guilty Spark's desired meeting even further. It would take time for the ring's scanners to locate them once again.

"Most distressing," he thought, "most distressing indeed."

He did not understand this 'Covenant' as they called themselves. They had this almost fanatically obsessed desire to see the humans dead, to see them all removed from the ring entirely. Why? What was the purpose of killing them? That was in flagrant disregard of protocol and yet they persisted. Were organic life forms just predisposed to the need to kill one another? Perhaps at one time he could've answered that himself, but not anymore. It had been so long since he had thought about such things that he couldn't remember now.

It was because of this that 343 Guilty Spark decided to monitor Covenant activity. He needed to assess this apparently diverse grouping of alien creatures. Many of them were recorded on file, but time had no doubt changed them and he needed to understand how it had.

Their ships were clearly bigger than the human one that had been shot down. Of course, Guilty Spark only had the one ship to compare it to. From what the scans could determine, the ships had numerous technological similarities to Forerunner weaponry and design. Their armaments, shields, propulsion, among various other facets were in line with Forerunner systems and advancement. However, they didn't seem all that improved. Guilty Spark expected them to have surpassed the Forerunners in some ways by now, but very little had changed in terms of capability if the scans were accurate.

It made no sense. Clearly they had borrowed and developed their technology from the base of Forerunner knowledge. Why had they not improved upon them? True, the Forerunners were the most advanced, powerful race in existence, but they were gone. Surely, these Covenant were capable of continuing the work they had decided to model their society after. Spark wasn't sure if it suggested they were slow to implement changes or just stagnated technologically. What that said about their level of intelligence he was unable to calculate at this point.

As he scanned the Covenant ships he also tried to pin down that other vessel he detected. It was a smaller one and it had been flying about the area the human escape pods had crashed, but now it had mysteriously disappeared from scanners. Perhaps it was utilizing some form of stealth capability to mask it from the clearly hostile Covenant. A decent strategy, but he would circumvent it in time. There was a way that ship was masking its presence and there were number of ways Guilty Spark was aware of that would allow it to do that, six thousand and seventy four to be precise. He had countermeasures for all of them.

Unfortunately, he was interrupted before he could begin working on the matter. An alarm sounded suddenly, an alarm that had been quiet since day one. It was loud, blisteringly so, as it should be, since it signalled the single greatest disaster that could befall this ring. Guilty Spark dropped what he was doing and headed over to an internal security screen. He brought up a view of where the alarm had originated. He was shocked to find a containment facility being broken into. He was not surprised to discover it was the Covenant committing the act.

The aliens were cutting through several secure levels, breaking locks never meant to be open, digging through walls that they had no authorization to dig through. It was infuriating, a blatant disregard for all the safety protocols he been programmed to follow. They were endangering everything with their foolish actions. What did they possibly hope to even find inside? Did they even know what was in there?

Guilty Spark checked the other containment sites and was horrified to see that the Covenant were already trying to break inside them as well. This one had simply been the first they had been successful in tripping an alarm with.

"Unacceptable, completely unacceptable!" He declared. "Activating sentinels in all sectors. These Covenant cannot be allowed to continue."

Within moments, sentinels were activated across the ring at every containment site the Covenant were attempting to breach or had breached already. Spark watched as the robotic sentries went to work, firing their concentrated lasers-beams at the offending interlopers. It was their own fault for such flagrant disregard for security and safety parameters. The aliens fought back, of course, shooting wildly at the machines. Their plasma weapons were highly effective against sentinel shields, however, ensuring that the sentinels would be impeded.

'A most bothersome development indeed,' Spark thought to himself.

There was some moderate success. A few of the aliens retreated from their attempts at excavation, but not far. They would return of course, and enough had managed to fight off the sentinels that Spark would need to redirect more to properly deal with them. One thing was sure from the visuals; the sentinels could delay the Covenant, but not stop them. Their weapons melted the machines with ease, destroying their shields and rendering them useless in moments. It was amazing to see that the smallest of the aliens had the greatest success. Their green-tinted plasma pistols were most effective against the sentinels, killing their shields in one shot before destroying them in the second.

Another strategy would be required and Guilty Spark would find it. He would not allow these aliens to endanger containment. Everything else would have to be put on hold until then. A pity, now the humans would have to wait even longer.

---

This had not been his desired result. Thel wanted the humans isolated and put down. Instead, they had gotten away, all of them. They would be tougher to track and even more difficult to expunge now that they were united in a cohesive force.

Worse still, Varvok had burdened him with another prisoner, and unlike the first, this human was far more aggressive. They needed to keep her restrained all the way to her cell, which she would share with the human pilot. She constantly banged on the shield door, causing a slight static effect after every strike. Despite the futile nature of her attempts to break open her cell, he worried about her powers assisting her in some fashion. According to Varvok, however, the dampener he had latched onto her neck would keep her in check. She had tried to remove it several times now, only for a slight electric shock to keep her at bay.

But even with so many security measures and assurances, Thel was still not happy. He turned to Varvok, now standing within his command platform. He was still wearing that blank, formal look on his face.

"What possessed you to capture this one?" He asked the Lieutenant Commander.

"Proof it could be done," Varvok explained. "She is the most powerful human biotic known to us. I thought you'd be impressed."

"I'd be impressed if you had put her down, not if you forced me to store her away on one of my ships." Thel told him sternly as he stood over him. "I will not have you endanger my crew just because you wish to accumulate trophies. Explain to me why I should not just execute her before she attempts to kill my men?"

Varvok stepped past the eight-foot tall Supreme Commander and walked up to the video feed.

"For one, she can't break free and two, I'm making a point." He began. "Killing humans mindlessly like vermin won't get you results. If you want to hurt them you need to understand how they work. They're highly loyal, intelligent and dangerous aliens. You need to break their spirit. Glassing their planets and murdering their populations en masse will only strengthen their resolve."

"And you know this how?" Thel asked.

"Because when you threaten a human he only comes back swinging ten times as hard," Varvok elaborated. "Their resolve is strong, they are successful because they can take the hit and keep bulldozing through it. My people know this. It's why they sponsor terror groups. It is why Balak started the Swords. You need to make them afraid; you need to turn them into their own worst enemies. Weaken them first, cripple them. Then you strike the finishing blow. It's how my people reign in the slaves. I thought you would understand this, given what it took to bring the unggoy in line."

Thel snorted and walked over to the screen alongside Varvok.

"I understand your past, Varvok," Thel began. "Balak informed us you were a capable leader in your military before you transferred to the Swords. And you come from a long line of... slavers as I understand. Your family funded some of those aforementioned slave rings for your government. Some of them even serve within them."

Varvok grinned slightly, but he misunderstood Thel's words.

"Personally, I find you repulsive," the sangheili told him flat out with a grimace. "War is fought with soldiers, not through slaves. Your continued desire to play as the master of the whip belies the name your own master has given your organization. If you think I'm going to adopt that practice you are sorely mistaken."

The smile disappeared from Varvok's face, he glared back at Thel.

"And what are the unggoy to you, Commander, if not slaves themselves?" He asked.

"They still have a place in paradise," Thel argued, "I doubt you feel the same for your own lessers."

Thel stomped past Varvok, intending to leave the batarian on the command platform while he retired to his quarters. But he was stopped in his tracks by the four-eyed alien's next words.

"You have no defence against biotics," he stated abruptly. "Your people are naked against their power. Even your strongest warriors struggle to fight against their abilities. Shepard is a powerful biotic, and while this one dwarfs him in capability, he makes up for it cunning and there are more like him. Don't mistake that for admiration for him, it is respect for the enemy I'm fighting. If you want to beat him, you'll need to learn how to fight his kind."

Thel thought the suggestion over, he did have a point. Perhaps the female could be useful in understanding the threat.

"And I'm sure Shepard will come for her and his pilot soon." Varvok reminded him. "He probably even knows where she's being held by now, he has his ways of finding out. Kill her now, he'll find out and he'll assume the pilot is next. He'll bring everyone he has, he'll storm the ship and many of your men will die in the process. If he thinks he has time he'll grow complacent, he will try to rescue them with a smaller force and you will be given time to prepare. You need to make him think that he's better off coming in with fewer people. You have the human captain as well, what do you think they'll do if they believe you're executing hostages? What would you do in their situation?"

Probably blow up the prison ship and spare his men the indignity of dying by the hands of the enemy. If they felt the prisoners were already dead, they'd spare no expense in a massive reprisal. And now that they were better organized, they stood a better chance of succeeding.

"If their rescue attempt fails," Thel began slowly, the thoughts forming in his head. "They will have lost a substantial amount of men, including the False Shepherd and members of his flock."

"And if we capture one of them, we can make them talk and reveal the location of the other humans." Varvok added. "Kill prisoners and they'll realise they have nothing to lose. Even if you manage to stave off a full assault, they won't let you take any of them alive and you'll be back at square one, trying to hunt down a bunch of humans on your sacred ring. And they will make it harder for you as time goes by. The sooner you find out where they're hiding, the better."

Thel turned back to Varvok and sighed.

"I'm giving you this chance, Varvok." He told the batarian. "Do not prove my decision unwise."

---

Varvok left the command bridge proud of his accomplishments. He had convinced the Supreme Commander that his plan was viable. Balak would definitely be pleased by this. Convincing the Covenant of their value as allies would no doubt be assured once Commander Shepard was finally captured. They'd realise how much more valuable humans were alive than dead. With any luck, the Covenant would assist the slave rings in scooping up human colonies. Just like Balak said they would. Everything was coming together.

As he began walking down the hall, Varvok heard a slight laugh. He turned to see Zek, propped up against the wall in a small alcove. He was spinning a plasma pistol in his talons.

"Heard you talking up the big boss, how'd it go?" He asked.

"Good, the human will remain alive," Varvok answered proudly. "I hope you're not disappointed."

"To be honest I was hoping he would tear your head off," Zek admitted casually. "Figuratively speaking of course, you need to clarify with mandible faces. No offence, I just desperately need the entertainment. Sangheili and their beloved Hierarchs are so damn dull. You're lucky that Empathy is meeting with his fellow Prophets at the moment. You got spared his religious grand standing."

That was indeed a pleasant change to what he had come to expect of seeing Commander 'Vadamee. Varvok hated that long-necked loudmouth talking over every other word. Why he felt he was so important was beyond him. As he understood, he wasn't even that high up in the Chain of Command. There were three other Hierarchs, all more powerful than him and Empathy acted like his word was somehow the "Be All, End All." Granted, those other three probably felt the same.

At least Zek, for all his crassness, wasn't a pompous old windbag. He still didn't like being thought of as potential entertainment though.

"Well, again I am sorry." Varvok told Zek, feigning remorse. "It looks like you'll remain bored as hell tonight. I don't suppose I could make it up to you somehow."

Zek pushed himself off the wall and walked towards Balak with a big old grin.

"Actually, there is something," He said, placing his pistol in its holster. "Come on down to my ship, you know, The Fallen Serpent. Me and the crew are having a bit of... a party, I guess. Bit of a wake actually, toast to the fallen of today and for those who made it back with plunder."

Varvok was a bit put off by the sudden invitation, especially after hearing Zek say he had been looking forward to him getting chewed out by the Supreme Commander. He tried to let him down as quickly as possible.

"I'm not much for funerals, to be honest," Vorvak said, as he began to step away.

Zek shook his head and chuckled.

"You don't know how kig-yar party," he said with a smirk. "Trust me, come on down. We can discuss some arms trading if you want. I hear you people got some fine bayonets. We could use something on the ends of our rifles."

Varvok quickly rethought his stance. He supposed he could use the downtime as he had been working non-stop all day. He probably wouldn't get another chance. Plus, he was curious as to how kig-yar celebrated. Or, more accurately, what their alcohol was like.

"Fine, I'll be there when I can," he replied simply.

"Be fashionably late," Zek told him, walking backwards and away from the batarian. "Too early and it won't be nearly as much fun, too late and all the drinks will be gone. See you there, Four-Eyes."

Zek took off after that. Perhaps it was a bit foolish to be considering a party when Shepard was no doubt planning an attack to save his men right now. But really, he couldn't do much at this point. He had given 'Vadamee all he needed, he just had to hope the Supreme Commander would know what to do with it. Besides, Shepard would come eventually and he had no doubt that he would be ready, kig-yar party or no.

---

Even though they were safe at last, Shepard didn't feel like celebrating. His thoughts kept drifting back to Joker and Jack, captured by the Covenant and locked away in a cell. He could only hope that the fact the Covenant were keeping them alive meant he had a chance to get them out safely. That still meant getting inside a fully manned, albeit disabled, battlecruiser. They had done it before, but that was when the Covenant hadn't been expecting them to pull such a stunt. That and the fact half the ship was away trying to board the Normandy.

This time, they'd be expecting a rescue mission. The Covenant had to know Joker's importance aboard the Normandy, the batarians had told them everything after all. As for Jack, she was a key member of his crew and the most powerful biotic on the ship next to Samara. On that knowledge alone, alongside the fact they were both his friends, Shepard couldn't just leave them to rot. He had to save them, along with Captain Keyes, before it was too late. He decided to stay on the CIC until he came up with something.

"Commander," said a voice suddenly.

Shepard looked over his shoulder to see it was Miranda.

"EDI says we'll be approaching the UNSC Firebase in a few short minutes." She said as she stared at him.

"Good to hear," Shepard acknowledged, "we'll going to develop our rescue plan with them soon. They have a captain to save, it would be best not to keep them waiting."

Miranda nodded in agreement, a troubled look on her face.

"How is EDI holding up?" Shepard asked her.

"She's still not happy with me." She shrugged. "I've never seen her so distant. I mean, she's a machine. It's a bit... unnerving."

"Joker is a prisoner, along with Jack," Shepard reminded her. "We're all a little unnerved right now. Once we get him back she'll be past it. But I'm guessing that's not all that's troubling you."

Miranda sighed and nodded again.

"I've been stuck all day with Spartan 058." She explained.

"Linda?" Shepard asked, confused at her calling the Spartan by her number.

"I don't think she likes me calling her that." The Normandy's XO replied. "I know she's always in that helmet, but I keep getting the feeling she doesn't like it when I call her that. Like, you know, someone who doesn't enjoy you calling them by a nickname you've only just heard from others."

Shepard could relate to the feeling of trying to communicate to someone whose face was behind a mask. Tali was a lot more personable than a super-soldier who got abducted when she was still a kid, however, so Miranda hadn't had as easy a time. Plus, he'd been stuck all day with the Master Chief, and he got a similar vibe off of him. Shepard looked over to Kelly who, as always, was at her yeoman station.

"What do you think of 058, Chambers?" Shepard asked.

The redhead turned, taking a deep breath as she tried to find the words.

"She's not exactly social." She told him. "I know given the circumstances of today she didn't have much time to interact, but she was very private. She did go down with Jun to look for survivors, but she didn't seem used to the idea. She was always very direct with everyone, but also calm in her speech. And even though she wasn't in charge, she projected herself as if she was. Her suggestions especially felt like orders. She may prefer working alone."

"She was very intimidating." Miranda confirmed. "I don't understand how she worked with the Master Chief if she prefers to go it alone."

"Maybe Chief just gives her the space she needs." Shepard suggested. "And she may not be as familiar with us as she is with him."

"Pack mentality," Kelly suggested. "They've been with each other since they were forced into the Spartan program as kids. They could've developed some kind of hierarchy."

Shepard remembered Halsey's journal, it certainly suggested as much. Chief became the leader according to Halsey, the inductee who led the candidates and then the Thirty-Three who survived and became Spartans. They only had each other, and now Linda and Chief were the last two Spartan IIs left. Much like Kat and Jun were the only survivors of Noble Team.

"You think they may be a bit anti-social?" Shepard asked Kelly.

"That would be putting it mildly," Kelly corrected him. "They've been taught from an early age how to be soldiers. That's not something that doesn't mentally scar someone. They maybe empathise with others, they may make friendships outside their social comfort zone, but it is going to be hard to earn it."

"We're going to need to if we're going to work together." Shepard informed her. "Halsey made sure we'd be travelling with the Master Chief for a reason. More than likely so he could help us, but I imagine we're here for another reason."

"Halsey did seem to plan far ahead of any of us." Miranda concurred. "You don't suppose it's as simple as her wanting us to be friends with him?"

Shepard shrugged at the question.

"I don't pretend to know what Halsey wanted. Tali has her Journal and even she's struggling to figure it out." He explained. "For now, I think its best we try to break into his little circle. We're all gonna need each other if we want to survive this and find out what is so special about this ring."

"We're still labelled as the 'Xeno Ship', Shepard." Miranda reminded him. "That's easier said than done."

"Whatever the case," Kelly spoke up, "I think it would be best if the Commander tried to build a rapport with him. He's already fought alongside him for the better part of the day. It's probably in our best interest if we emotionally attach him to us, along with Linda. We're stranded out here and they and the UNSC are our only way out of here."

Shepard's attention was suddenly pulled away from the conversation when EDI spoke up over the intercom.

"Approaching Alpha Base, Commander," The AI announced. "We're being directed to a landing site they've set-up in the center of the camp."

"Take us in, EDI," Shepard ordered, before quickly adding, "and don't worry, we will find Jeff."

"I know you will, Shepard," the synthetic assured him. "I just hope it is soon."

---

Shepard got a good look at Alpha Base from the cockpit. The makeshift human firebase was located on a mesa among a series of alien structures. The walls of the plateau were high and seemingly unassailable to normal means of attack. The elevated terrain gave a good view of the surrounding area, making it a strategically advantageous staging ground.

The butte was already bustling with human activity when they arrived. It was mostly Army Troopers, but there was a healthy majority of ODSTs alongside them. Shepard could see a lot of smaller structures among the alien buildings. They were obviously human, given their Marine Green color scheme. They looked to be big enough to house one person maximum. They would probably be the only sense of privacy any of them would get while they were stuck here. There were also a lot of captured Covenant vehicles around the base. There was definitely a story behind those.

The Normandy touched down on the mesa, the ship shaking slightly upon landing. Moments later, Shepard had every squad member ready to disembark. There was a lot they would need to square away before the rescue mission. Also, the UNSC would need some extra hands around the base. Shepard decided they might as well pull their weight.

"I checked the damage to the Normandy and I have crews already working on repairs." Tali said as she rushed up beside Shepard with a datapad in hand. "We should be back to full strength in a few short hours."

"See about asking some of the UNSC Engineers for help." Shepard suggested. "We're the only operational friendly starship in probably a million light-years. We need to get back in order fast."

"They'll be more than happy to help, I'm sure of it." Tali concurred. "I'm just hoping Donnelly and Daniels can show them the ins and outs. We're very different from the Autumn."

It was then a Pelican came in for landing on a pad a few feet away from their landing zone. Climbing out of were several Marines and the Master Chief himself. Despite being a smaller dropship, Foehammer had gotten here just a few short seconds after they had, it seemed. It didn't take long for the Chief to spot them and he quickly walked over to them through the crowd of Marines.

"Commander, good to see you." he greeted Shepard before looking behind him at the other Normandy squad members. "Is this the rest of your crew?"

"Yeah, save for Jack and Joker, of course." Shepard answered. "We even picked up some extras."

Linda walked to the front of the group and nodded at Chief with a finger to her mouth. Chief responded in kind. The gesture was somewhat lost on Shepard, but he guessed it was a Spartan thing.

"You handle yourself without me alright?" Chief asked his fellow Spartan.

"You know me," Linda replied, "give me a rifle and line of sight and I'm golden. We recovered a lot of soldiers. How'd you do?"

Chief looked behind him once to see the Marines that had poured out of the Pelican.

"Sixty-Three Marines last count," he answered, "at least according to Cortana's calculations."

"Plus three ODSTs and most of the engineering crew," The AI was quick to add, speaking through Chief's Armour's speakers. "Pleasure to see you again, Spartan 058."

"Likewise, I guess." Linda agreed, not entirely assenting with the word choice of 'seeing.'

Before anyone else could speak up, Shepard thought he heard someone else approaching. Looking to his right, sure enough he saw the familiar face of Colonel Holland with two of his troopers by his side. Both Kat and Jun were quick to stand at attention as he approached. Everyone else just turned to him.

"Commander, Chief, I told you I'd see you all ground side," he greeted jovially as he stopped in front of them. "I'm guessing your day has been as rough as mine?"

"Not sure, sir," Shepard replied with a bit of a grin. "I can't speak for you."

"I led my squad here on foot after our Pelican took a hit." The Colonel explained. "Although our comms were down, we had an idea where the majority of the ODSTs had landed and hoped to link up. Instead we end up finding them clearing this whole mesa's Covenant garrison. Showed up just when they were cleaning up. I took command shortly after. I was happy to hear that you were all safe and sound when Cortana got through."

If only that were completely true, then they wouldn't be in as much trouble. However, the Colonel being here helped matters. They had a command structure and someone just as experienced as Captain Keyes leading this operation. That boded well for them.

"Unfortunately, we can't say the same for the Captain," Shepard reminded him. "Same goes for two of our own crewmates, I'm afraid."

"Yes, Cortana filled me in before you arrived," Holland replied. "Our top priority is of course rescuing them, but we have quite a bit on our schedule. I hope your crew is more than happy to help out."

"We're all at your service, Colonel." Miranda assured him.

Holland just nodded in response, glad to hear that they had the extra hands. He turned to Kat and Jun next.

"Good to see you both again, Noble Two, Noble Three," He told them formally. "I hate to say it, but I may need you out in the field again soon, even with Shepard's team helping out."

"Rest is for the dead, sir." Kat replied.

Holland just let out a single chuckle. He then looked to the Master Chief and Linda.

"117, 058, it's good to have you both aboard as well." He informed them sincerely. "I know I'm not Keyes, but until he's rescued I hope you won't mind taking orders from me."

"You're the highest ranked officer in an emergency situation," Chief responded firmly. "There is no problem, sir."

"Heh, that's what I like about you Spartans, you never cared much about military politics," Holland answered with a slight grin. "I doubt some of these Marines would be so happy with that situation. In any case, we should get straight to the briefing room we have set up. Major Silva and his second are already there, it's best we not keep them waiting. Shepard, Master Chief, Noble Two, follow me please."

Holland began to walk away. Before Shepard followed he looked to Miranda, Jacob and Garrus.

"You three keep the rest of the crew busy." He told them. "Be ready to leave at a moment's notice. The second we're ready to hit where they're holding Joker and Jack, we're leaving."

"We'll be ready, Shepard." Garrus promised.

With that, Shepard, the Master Chief and Kat followed Holland to the briefing room.

---

The briefing room looked like it had been hastily set-up in the past few hours. There wasn't much there except what appeared to be some kind of large glowing blue table top hooked up to a portable fuel cell generator. Shepard could only guess it was a holographic display, similar to ones he used during officers training. He looked across the table to see a stone faced ODST, wearing armour similar to Sergeant Buck's, just with extra stripes on it. He knew the look in his eyes. It said "career soldier" just like his old squad leader's had back in the day. He could only assume this was Major Silva. The woman next to him with the flat-top hair, green eyes and slightly flattened nose had Lieutenant markings on her. She was no doubt his second-in-command, the one Holland mentioned.

"Major Silva, Lieutenant McKay," Holland spoke up to the two as they all entered, "Commander Shepard, Noble Two and Spartan 117. Commander, the Major is the reason we aren't sitting out in the cold right now."

"It must've been a hell of a fight." Shepard noted.

The Major didn't answer. Silva's eyes were locked onto Kat and Chief more than Shepard. It didn't change much, but Shepard picked up on the disgruntled look. Eventually, he responded to the Normandy Commander.

"They put up one, but we managed," he stated, still looking at Chief. "Good Marines find a way, no matter the disadvantage."

Silva's words sounded clean and unemotional, but he could sense the animosity. Still, it wasn't his issue. Right now, Joker and Jack needed him. He didn't really care about much else. Holland started things off, directing Chief to put Cortana into the holotable's CPU. Moments after sticking in her chip, the AI emerged on the table in her virtual form.

"Alright Cortana, we're short one Captain, one pilot and an Ex-Con," Holland looked up to Shepard, asking if that was an appropriate title for Jack with his stare. Shepard just nodded and let him continue. "What do we know about where they're being held?"

Cortana pulled up a holographic schematic above her head.

"The Truth and Reconciliation is your standard CCS-class battlecruiser," she began as the schematics of the ship spun above her. "She's disabled for the moment, but they are repairing her. Until then they're keeping the ship close to the ground and have set up a perimeter around the plateau they're hovering over. Once they're done repairs, however, they will more than likely rejoin the rest of their fleet. Our best chance to save the Captain would be before that happens."

"We have a point of entry?" Kat asked her.

Cortana brought up another display that materialised beneath the holographic ship. It was a pad with an illuminating light shining upwards into the vessel's underbelly.

"This gravity lift is being used to move troops and supplies to and from the cruiser." Cortana explained. "It's our best way in. The docking hangers are more than likely sealed from the inside. We can shut them off from the hanger bay and allow more troops aboard in the process. Until then, I would recommend a small force capable of getting to the gravity lift and then into the ship from there. They can then work their way to the hanger deck and then the holding cells."

"I'm assuming that part will be difficult enough," Shepard surmised with a perched eyebrow. "How about just getting to the lift in the first place?"

"Traffic is sketchy, but that perimeter I mentioned is thick with some of their crack troops." Cortana warned. "Normally, we'd try to overwhelm them with artillery or air support first. Unfortunately, we don't have the numbers for that or the requisite firepower. Attacking head-on is also out of the question. A full assault will be costly and they may kill the prisoners before we reach them. I'm positive a stealthier approach would allow us to easily infiltrate the ship and get the prisoners out safely with minimal risk."

"I agree. We need to play smart with our numbers." Holland concurred. "We won't beat the Covenant through conventional warfare, not here. We need to fall back on guerrilla tactics. Cortana, do you think they're expecting a rescue mission?"

The AI shrugged slightly.

"I would imagine they are." She replied. "They must know we're coming. They know how valuable Keyes is and they must expect we can't just leave him behind. It is also reasonable to assume that the capture of Shepard's two crewmates is an attempt to lure him out into the open."

Shepard grimaced at the thought and clutched his fist into his palm, cracking his knuckles slightly.

"Well then, mission accomplished," he said with a scowl. "Now they're gonna learn the hard way what happens to people who endanger my crew."

"They're expecting an attack," Cortana stated, her voice seemingly advising caution. "Our best bet is to catch them off guard, somewhere they don't expect us to hit them from. I think a bit of reconnaissance first for a possible insertion site would be best. We need to find a chink in their perimeter's armour and preferably the fastest route to the gravity lift from that point."

"We can send out a small Pelican patrol," Holland suggested as he nodded at the intel. "They can take some footage of the area, help us know what to expect."

"I'd like to send someone from the squad along with that." Shepard quickly suggested. "They can drop him off nearby and keep overwatch on the Covenant until we arrive. It should keep us well informed about their movements."

Holland nodded in agreement with the idea before looking back at the holographic ship.

"Can I assume you've already picked out who among your crew is going with you on this one then, Commander?" Holland asked.

"More or less," Shepard replied succinctly. "I've had a lot of time to think it over on the way here. If Cortana is right, and a stealth approach is our best option, then I've already got a few people in mind suited for that kind of OP."

"With respect, I think it would be better if we put a few of my ODSTs on this one instead." Silva stated, cutting in suddenly. "We're trained for these kinds of rescues."

Shepard wasn't sure if he appreciated the Major's words. He remembered how Ashley once said what the words "With Respect" actually meant. He was getting that vibe now from Silva. It was then he subtly wished Williams was here, she'd be able to mouth off for him right back at the Major.

"I'm sure they are," Shepard replied, trying to be respectable. "But it's not just Keyes up there, my people are being held there too. I'm getting them out."

"This mission requires well-trained soldiers, sir." Silva told him with a steadfast look. "I think it would be best if we allocate the members your ship to less personal issues. I can promise I'll bring your people back safely."

"My crew possesses a number of special skills and knowledge your ODSTs don't have." Shepard explained with a bit of tone in his voice. "I think it would be best if you used them. Besides, I'm their CO, I'm pulling them out and I'm bringing my people with me."

Silva glared slightly, looking towards Holland.

"Shepard's crew may look rag-tag, but they're as skilled in their fields as we are," The Colonel informed the ODST officer. "I suggest we allocate our ODSTs resources to other just as pressing matters. Marines and Troopers can easily substitute as extra muscle for the rescue OP."

Silva's head hung a bit low at that before it rose up and looked straight ahead.

"Of course, sir," he answered somewhat gravelly. "Whatever you think is best."

Holland nodded and turned to the Chief.

"I can assume you'll be heading off to rescue the Captain along with Shepard, 117?" He said to him.

"Cortana has the best working knowledge of the Covenant network and I'm the only one that can get her inside to help locate Keyes." Chief replied. "And I'm with the Commander on this one. We don't leave people behind and we need every asset we have to pull this off."

Holland was pleased with the answer. Shepard felt a similar way. He couldn't help but believe the Chief when he said he wouldn't leave someone behind. Although, given what Kelly and Miranda mentioned, he wondered how much of that was conditioning and how much of it was his pack mentality.

Silva, by contrast, didn't look like he was very happy at all. Shepard noticed a little facial tic in the Major's eye before he looked away from the Spartan. Holland failed to see it, already moving on to the next item on their itinerary.

"We have an approximate location on where the Autumn crashed down." He began. "We think she's already been occupied by the enemy. Normally, we'd just write her off, but we don't have enough supplies to last very long out here. Major Silva has proposed a raid on the ship to scavenge what we can."

"That sounds risky." Shepard noted. "Couldn't the Normandy just help keep the rations and ammo up? We have plenty of stock we could spread around."

"No," Holland answered, shaking his head. "The ODSTs brought enough for themselves, but with the rescued Marines and my own Troopers, we've stretched ourselves thin. We're low on bullets, vehicles, food. Point is, we need what's left in the Autumn."

Cortana pulled up a manifesto from her memory to display to everyone.

"This is the inventory for the ship." She said. "I can cross-reference it with our own supplies and determine what we're missing. That should help us build our shopping list."

"Good," the Colonel nodded once at the AI, he then turned to Kat. "Noble Two, you'll be running tactical for this raid. You'll be in charge of the ODSTs for the duration of the attack."

Kat simply nodded once in acknowledgement, but Silva suddenly snapped to attention. His eyes went wide as he looked to Holland.

"Sir," he began, "I suggested this OP. I assumed I'd be on point."

"You'll still be leading your selected squadrons," Holland assured him. "But Noble Two will be directing them. She's handled these sorts of infiltration 'snatch and grabs' before."

"So have I and I don't think I require a Spartan to accomplish my goal," Silva argued. "I've been leading my team well enough given the circumstances. I think we can handle this on our own."

Holland just turned to Silva with a stern look.

"Major, both you and Noble Two are on the same level of the Command tree in your respective fields," he explained. "I believe it would be best if you cooperated with her on this mission. For one thing, she could offer extra skills to better secure more supplies. Also, I want Shepard to turn over some of his men to assist in this mission as well. Since she's worked with them before, it would be beneficial to cohesion if she was in-charge of them. That is, if Shepard is willing to allow her temporary command over his crew."

Holland looked to Shepard for the answer. The Commander was more than happy to respond.

"I trust Noble Two," he said as sincere as possible. "She's been a good friend to the Normandy and we've been through a lot together. I don't think any member of my crew would have a problem serving with her."

"The vote of confidence is appreciated, sir." Kat answered back, a pleasant look in her eye at the praise.

Shepard had hoped that would win over Silva a little bit, but he seemed even more put off by the idea. He looked almost incensed at Shepard. Then he stared back at Holland, and found the Colonel's own eyes hadn't left the Major's.

"Permission to speak freely, sir," he began, trying his best to maintain his faltering composure.

"I imagine you'll say it anyway, Major," The Colonel complied, slightly grumbling as he spoke.

"The last thing my boys need on a mission is thinking about the team of aliens with a Spartan CO on their backs," He stated sharply. "Sir, the Spartan program is done, they're gone. I think the experiment has proven a failure on both the Second and Third iterations. We don't need a bunch of fre-" Silva caught himself, noticing Holland's glare. "We don't need Science Experiments and Xenos to do our jobs. We took this place without them. I think we've proven ourselves."

Holland's glare dimmed, his face turned back to a stoic look. He then spoke to Chief without releasing his gaze from Silva.

"Master Chief, do you feel like you're a failed experiment?" he asked.

Shepard looked to the Spartan, and although he couldn't see his face he could see him eyeing Silva intently. He looked down to his fists and noticed they were clutched tightly. Shepard also noticed Cortana's slight show of concern on her face, looking back and forth between both sides of the table frantically.

"No sir," Chief finally spoke up, his voice even and calm. "Not at all."

"Noble Two, same question." Holland continued, still staring at Silva.

"I'm still breathing, so I think I'm still ongoing myself." Kat replied, a slightly less reserved tone in her voice.

That was all Holland needed.

"You'll be working with Shepard's Crew and Noble Two on the raid." He informed the Major. "That is final. Are we clear?"

"Like crystal, sir." Replied Silva as the words slightly sifted through his teeth.

"Right then," Holland said, breaking his stare. "I suggest we get our affairs in order. We'll move under the cover of darkness. It'll be easier to sneak up into Covenant territory that way in both cases. Dismissed."

Holland was first to leave, followed by Silva and McKay. Shepard could sense he was fuming on the inside, despite how much he was reining it in. Chief departed afterwards, pulling Cortana from the console. Kat remained at the table with Shepard.

"Well, the Major seems nice." The Commander spoke up, breaking the silence between them.

"Yeah, in that 'As long as I get what I want' kinda way," Kat added with a growl. "I'd prefer to be going with you and the legend."

"Any advice on working with him?" Shepard asked her.

"Jorge always mentioned that 117 was kinda like the big brother for all of them." Kat explained. "Which is saying something, Jorge was pretty big even back then. I think you're on his good side already, try to keep it that way. Spartans IIs don't open up easy."

"Jorge did," Shepard reminded her. "He seemed pretty friendly given his circumstances."

"Jorge was the exception," Kat warned. "The Master Chief was the model they all tried to live up to. I only know stories, but if any of them are true, then he's seen more than any of us. There's something about him that's separate from the other IIs, Jorge never found out what it was. Just that it made him different. Don't ask what that means, again, even Jorge couldn't be specific."

That certainly made him more mysterious than he originally thought. The more he heard about the Master Chief though, the more he wanted to learn. This was the man Halsey had entrusted their lives to. From what he had seen, he knew they were in capable hands, but if his crew was going to work with him, they needed him as more than just an ally. They needed him as part of the team. He decided to rely on what he did best, talking to people. Experience had shown him that was the fastest way to make friends after all. It got him a whole damn crew's worth of the best people in the galaxy at least.

---

If this day hadn't been long enough for him, it was getting there. After dealing with an uppity hierarch, a scheming batarian and a sardonic pirate alongside prisoners, ship battles and human soldiers running about a sacred giant artefact, Thel thought nothing else could go wrong.

Then he heard about the excavation sites, how machines came from nowhere and began gunning down any Covenant in sight. Their weapons cut down many, from sangheili to unggoy. The way the attack was described suggested the machines used laser weaponry and sported shields that protected them from being destroyed for a short while.

It was enough of a delay to leave several dead and halt excavation at more than half of the sites. Unggoy refused to return to active duty and the sangheili in charge didn't wish to put themselves or their men at risk further until they could assure their safety. The idea of dying at the hands of an emotionless automaton did not sit well with many of them.

It was a troubling prospect and one he did not wish to reveal to Empathy. He would have a fit no doubt. He decided to resolve this before he got wind of it. He called up every available Shipmaster he could to his quarters and requested those who couldn't come to contact him by visual transmission. Before long everyone was there, voicing their concerns about the excavation continuing. Some were more vocal than others, most kept quiet while the higher ranked officers spoke the minds and opinions of their men. However, the concerns weren't confined to a single topic. Almost imediaetly, Thel had wished he hadn't decided to make this discussion an open forum.

"It is not bad enough we have the humans to deal with, but the fact half our numbers are forced to stay keeping watch over these excavation sites is madness," stated Field Marshal Tusza 'Valvee with furious indignation. "Now we have to deal with damn machines trying to kill us. We should be seeking out and destroying the humans! Not dealing with... unggoy work!"

"We lost far too many brothers in the machine's initial attack." Field Marshal Luto 'Kalvamee added. "The Hierarch may say differently considering it was only six, but six warriors working excavation dying by the hands of a flying pile of metal is too much! That's not even considering what has happened at the excavation sites that haven't checked in yet. I won't send my men back in to secure a blasted structure that has been completely locked down for eons when we don't even know what we're looking for. For all we know, those things were just the first of many."

"Our ships aren't even being directed to actively searching for the humans." Shipmaster Fetasna 'Saldamee added. "Empathy claims the Inquisitor wants us to form a holding pattern around the ring. Any of our remaining forces aboard are being directed to guard specific sections of the ring, excavation sites or being put on the search for the control room. This is maddening! Our enemy is in our midst and Empathy and his kin are telling us not to fight! We are giving them far too much opportunity to strike!"

"Not to mention the fact the Truth and Reconcilliation now harbours the filthy stench of humans aboard it!" Ship Master Orna 'Fulsamee added as well, with his visage screaming furiously on Thel's screen. "More confusing is the fact we aren't even interrogating them for information!"Are we now capturing the animals, Supreme Commander? Are you going to train them as pets? Is that why we're no longer killing them?"

Unable to respond over their bickering, Thel was forced to slam his fist down on the side of the armrest of his chair. They immediately all quieted, giving him a chance to speak for himself.

"I understand all of your frustrations, I agree with them in many respects," he assured them coolly. "But there is a bigger importance to this operation than humans. Some resources inevitably will have to be used in less glorious tasks and if the Inquisitor speaks truly than the humans will soon be irrelevant."

"But they are not irrelevant, Commander, not now," 'Valvee beseeched him. "We may have beaten them here, but they were travelling here from the start. How do we know not more ships are on their way? If we don't deal with the problem now, it will get worse."

"He's right," 'Kalvamee agreed with a dutiful nod. "I know how humans operate out of desperation. I've seen it on many worlds. They are sneaky and deceitful, resorting to tricks and ambushes against our superior might. The longer we wait to flush them out of their hole, the more opportunities we give them to kill our men."

They all knew that would happen. The humans would react to the situation the only way they could. They would strike from the shadows and undermine their forces. They would refuse to fight them conventionally, preferring to attack in small groups, overwhelming their ability to respond to every problem that arose. Any major attacks would be well organized, quick and forceful. The intent would be to overtake strategic positions through lighting strike assaults, blitz attacks.

"We'll whittle them down to nothing eventually." Thel argued unconvincingly.

"And how many will die before we kill them all?" 'Kalvamee asked once more. "How much of our brothers' blood will be spilled by those heathens upon this holy ring?"

Thel already knew the answer, far too many. The problem remained the same though, what could they possibly do?

"I've already mentioned this to the Prophet of Empathy," he informed them, sounding exasperated as he did. "He says we stay on course. The Inquisitor told us we must continue the excavation as well as the search to uncover Halo's technical functions. It claims it is imperative to the Journey."

"In my opinion, the Inquisitor tells us to do a lot of things." Fetasna grumbled.

Everyone's head turned to the shipmaster, befuddled looks on their faces.

"What do you mean?" 'Valvee asked.

"How much do we really know about this Oracle anyway?" Fetasna clarified. "We find it on some remote world among Forerunner installations and it quickly aligns itself with us and our cause. It leads us to the wormhole, allows us to discover this new dimension, helps us rediscover new technology and potential allies and when we find Halo, the thing we've been searching for since the Covenant's inception, it suddenly stops giving advice and starts practically ordering us around."

"Are you questioning a conduit of our Gods?" Orna asked with a growl.

"We know the Forerunners had problems with synthetics, ones that betrayed them to a great evil," Fetasna reminded them all. "Can any of us say we can truly trust this machine anymore than the ones that just attacked us? It's not really explaining what the purpose behind the excavation is, what exactly we're looking for. What if it has its own agenda? Some sort of goal that it wants to hide. Or perhaps it has simply degraded like the human AIs we've capture, gone mad in isolation."

Thel had to admit, the Inquisitor had become somewhat questionable since the discovery of the ring. It seemed more focused on the task of excavation than the 'False Shepherd'. Although the human heretic leader still remained a top priority, he had suddenly become secondary to the excavation of the ring. And why hide the danger from them?

"Perhaps it is a test of faith." Thel suggested. "A trial, if you will. The Inquisitor is attempting to see how far we are willing to go to stay on the path."

"And if that is not the case?" 'Kalvamee asked. "If we're throwing our lives away for something that is not of the Gods, but of that Oracle's own will?"

"In any case, wouldn't it be more prudent to kill the 'False Shepherd' before he can add to the danger to the excavation?" Valvee asked in kind. "He has already stolen the artefact that was on Reach for his own ends. What if he does the same here?"

Finally, something he could offer a bit of good news on, or at least some kind of assurance.

"If we are lucky he will soon no longer be a problem." Thel explained. "We already have a way to draw him out, the guests Orna mentioned."

Orna looked wide-eyed at the revelation.

"Those things are aboard to draw them out?" He asked in disbelief.

"Varvok claims he will attempt to rescue his comrades," Thel informed him. "Once he does, we will have him."

"With respect, you're focusing too much on the 'False Shepherd' in my opinion."

That was a different voice from the four other officers that had taken up the most time talking. Everyone in the room turned to the voice, while Thel moved Orna's screen towards it so he could get a view of the speaker. It was one of the sangheili at the back of the room near the doorway, a special operations officer named Zuka 'Zamamee who looked rather incredulously at everyone. He had been quiet so far, along with many of the lesser Field Commanders in the room, but he was the first to speak up among them.

"We're ignoring the real threat, Commander." He warned. "The danger is not from a Shepherd, but from a demon who serves alongside him. If the False One is coming, then so will he. We need to be ready to meet and destroy him."

"You refer to the so-called living-weapon, this... human in armour." Thel responded, already know the answer. "I hardly think he is that much of a concern."

"You're expending exuberant resources to kill one human already." Zuka argued. "What harm is there in preparing for a second target?"

"Because the False Shepherd has followers," Thel reminded him. "He gathers people behind him and leads them astray, turns them from the truth of the Forerunners. That is more dangerous than any human with a gun."

Zuka shook his head violently.

"He is no mere human. He is a powerful and deadly enemy." Zuka impressed further. "He has already killed scores of our brothers, more than any of these machines combined. If we truly wish to destroy this human insurgency then he must die."

But Thel remained unconvinced by the Zealot's bluster.

"Your concern is noted," he answered in a tired droning voice. "If this human in armour will indeed be with the False Shepherd, then it is already taken care of."

"But-"

"He will die with him," Thel spoke up, cutting Zuka off. "I understand your anger, he escaped your grasp aboard the human ship and you were gravely wounded in your attempt. You feel cheated, that is reasonable. However, your obsession with this human demon is not constructive to our efforts on this ring. We must remain focused on the larger problem, the False Shepherd's rallying pulpit must be silenced, the humans eradicated and these excavation sites properly secured. We cannot pool all our resources chasing a single human down when he will more than likely come to us within the next few hours."

Zuka stiffened his stance and then bowed his head as respectfully as he could.

"Then, if you are unwilling to listen, I am no longer needed here." He declared. "I will endeavour to end this problem on my own terms. For what it is worth, I hope your confidence in this plan is well placed, sirs."

With that Zuka left, he'd leave the duty of reprimanding him to his direct superior on his own time. That left Thel to deal with his other problem. That being the last one he mentioned to the Spec-Ops officer before he left. It was Orna that offered a solution.

"Sir, you mentioned Varvok." He said suddenly. "Perhaps we don't need to send more of our own men to die against these machines or re-establish a connection with the excavation sites we've lost contact with. He must have reserves... doesn't he?"

He did indeed, he did indeed. Perhaps their solution was a lot simpler than he thought.

"We may have to offer them more money or guns." 'Kalvam suggested.

"We can part with them." Thel replied. "I'd rather not do the same with more of our brothers. We need to return to excavation quickly and get a status report on the ones who haven't checked in. I'll handle it."

One problem potentially solved, but so many more to deal with. Sometimes being Supreme Commander didn't feel worth the hassle.

---

"He actually called them 'Failed Science Experiments' right in front of them?" Garrus asked him, aghast at the blatant show of contempt.

"He wanted to call them worse, he held it back." Shepard clarified. "I know ODSTs have a rivalry with Spartans, but you should've seen the way he looked at the Chief, Garrus, He hated him. I think if he had the choice he'd ground all four of them here, along with us. Luckily, Holland is in charge, so we have that going for us."

Shepard had caught up with his turian friend outside, prepping his sniper rifle. Wade began explaining everything that had happened in the briefing room, down to the ugly details showcased primarily by Silva. It didn't sit right with either of them.

"I heard the same kind of things from a lot of turians back in the military," Garrus said as they continued to walk around the grounds of the firebase. "Course back there it was just ordinary soldiers talking crap about biotics, particularly the Cabals."

"Yeah, I remember that, your military is segregated," Shepard remembered as they made their way over to a pile of boxes stacked nearby. "What exactly is your government's problem with biotics anyway?"

"They're a minority and people don't trust them, same story as a lot of groups in galactic history." Garrus reasoned. "Plus they earned a bad reputation as spies and assassins back during Unification. So they make the common soldier uneasy. Thus, the government puts them on saboteur missions or uses them as shock troops. And that further makes the common soldier suspicious of them and deepens the stereotype. I think you humans call it, Catch Twenty-Two? The biotics just don't have a chance to prove to the regulars their value because half the stuff they do involves sneaking around and being shifty."

Shepard could only imagine that something similar was one of the reasons ODSTs seemed so at odds with Spartans. In contrast though, it didn't seem like the Spartans cared all that much about the supposed rivalry. Unless of course, as Chief demonstrated, they or their friends were insulted. If Shepard's reading of the Spartan was right, then he had been plenty offended by now. It was probably best that neither Silva nor the Chief were on the same mission. They would've most certainly not gotten along. Unfortunately, that stuck Kat with the good Major.

"You ever encounter a soldier like Silva?" Shepard asked Garrus.

The Turian stopped and sat down on one of the crates.

"Nah," he said, "but from your description I have seen plenty of him in C-Sec. Lot of officers looking to make a name for themselves. You said he didn't seem very happy he wasn't put solely in charge of the raid operation?"

"Unhappy would be an understatement, he was practically fuming at the Colonel." Shepard reiterated.

"Yeah, definitely looking for a fight, looking to prove himself," said Garrus with a huff. "A lot of C-Sec officers didn't like it when they got pulled off cases or reassigned. The worst ones were the guys who felt the department owed them something or that other officers had it in for them specifically, like Harkin. You remember him?"

Shepard wished he didn't, considering how much of a sleazy scumbag the man was.

"You were never like that?" Shepard asked the turian, changing the subject.

"I never felt I had something to prove, I just hated the rules getting in the way, remember?" The turian answered. "But I would be lying if there weren't some days I didn't feel like Silva. Like I was being held back, like my superiors weren't listening. The difference was I wasn't after credit for my actions. I just wanted the job done. The Major sounds like he wants a medal more than anything."

"He shouldn't take it personally," Shepard reasoned simply. "Holland is obviously more comfortable with Kat taking the lead on things here. He knows her better than Silva and he wants someone he can trust on this one."

Garrus pulled off the scope of his sniper rifle to get at the inside of the chamber. Shepard didn't bother to ask what he was doing. He had known the turian long enough to read and understand certain "habits" of his. Besides, he had more important things on his mind.

"I was hoping you'd go on the raid mission," He finally said. "Kat could use the extra support from you. And since Buck is going as well it could help us build a rapport with the ODSTs in general."

"Figured you'd ask that," Garrus said as he began fiddling with the inside of his rifle. "You want me to make friends with Silva too?"

"I just want you to show his men that we're not the enemy." Shepard elaborated. "The more they work with aliens, the further we'll distance them from Silva's prejudices."

Garrus shrugged before snapping the casing on the rifle closed.

"Worth a try I guess." He reasoned. "And both Buck and Kat are friends of mine, helping them out would be a bonus. I've been meaning to talk to her anyway."

"About what?" Shepard asked curiously.

"Carter," was all Garrus replied with.

Shepard understood and he didn't press. That was something between them, probably one of the few personal matters they could possibly share. He would've asked why it took him so long, but this was Garrus. He got lost in his work sometimes. More than Wade did in fact.

"Just be careful about that topic. Other than that, I'll leave it to you to pick out the other squad members you'll bring with." Shepard told him. "I imagine you already have some ideas."

"You know me, I plan long term." Garrus joked as he screwed the scope back on. "What about you? What are you going to do until the call comes?"

"I'm gonna see if I can talk to the Master Chief a bit." He answered simply. "Maybe he can offer his personal insight for the mission. And I have some other things I wanna go over with him."

Garrus chuckled.

"Good luck," he jested. "That guy hasn't been much of a conversationalist."

---

It had been a longer day than he had thought it would be and he still wasn't getting any rest. Kowalski had been looking forward to at least half an hour of some shut eye, but instead he was unloading gun crates with Ellingham to stock the makeshift armoury they had set up in one of the alien structures they found. At least no one was shooting at them or trying to eat them, so he could hardly say it wasn't a step up from their previous situation.

"You think the Covies know the Helljumpers took this pile by now?" Ellingham asked him as they carried another crate of assault rifles inside.

"I'm guessing they're confused as to why they haven't checked in yet." Kowalski replied. "Maybe they have other things on their mind. They've been here for awhile."

"Or they think we don't pose a threat at all and are just biding their time." Ellingham suggested. "I suppose they could just blast us from orbit, but then again, this place seems special to them from what I've heard."

Kowalski couldn't be sure about that. Who knew why the Covenant did half the crap they did? That wasn't a knock against people who wanted to know. It was just an acknowledgement of all the crazy rumours that tended to fill the void when one had no answers. Kowalski had heard every kind of tall tale and theory about the war and their alien enemy since he was just a kid. Ellingham was probably correct, however, when he said this place probably held some kind of sacred significance to them.

They set the crate down and pried it open. Inside there were several assault rifles lined within special foam, enough for two small squads at least. Now they just had to sort them on the assorted racks that had been set up for them.

"What do you think this place is anyway?" Ellingham asked as they began to work.

"If it's sacred to them maybe it was built by their Gods or something," Kowalski reasoned. "It obviously ain't Covenant."

Ellingham looked to one of the alien structures surrounding them and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, not nearly enough purple." He observed. "Probably super old by now if it was made by Ancient Alien Gods. This whole place could probably make those xeno-archaeologists back on earth shit their pants in excitement."

Kowalski continued to work, trying not to think too much about the imagery Ellingham just implanted. He pulled out two assault rifles and placed them on the rack side by side. He carefully placed the ammunition under them in a designated tray for quick and easy loading.

"So how long do you think until the UNSC shows up?" He suddenly asked Ellingham.

"Reach was the last stop before Earth," the fellow Private replied. "My guess is they think it's too risky to track us back here. Not when they're preparing for the big one. My guess is the Covies have got this whole place locked down anyway. So even if they could find us, they'd just strand the rescue party here too."

Kowalski had already thought as much, he just wanted to know if anyone else was trying to lie to themselves. They were on their own here, stuck on some giant ring in space with an armada of alien ships ready to strike them down.

"It's not all bad though," Ellingham quickly added as he pulled out another two rifles. "We got the Normandy and, while it can't get us all out of here, it can help us last a little longer. Plus, we got enough badasses here in camp that we could just borrow one of the Covies' ships and fly the fuck back to civilization."

"Yeah, but you just know if the Covenant are interested in this place, that can't be good news for humanity." Kowalski reminded him. "We ain't going anywhere until the folks in charge figure that out and put a stop to it."

He just knew they wouldn't make it easy for them to do that. The Covenant didn't like it when you messed with what they thought was their stuff. It was going to be a hard fight just to figure out how to stop whatever plan they had for this place.

Even if they did succeed in that mission, the odds of them escaping were against them. The Covenant had Reach in their sights for over a month, slowly crushing the life out of it. They could be patient because they had the time. They could outlast them. That was how they had always worked. On top of all of that, they'd still have to break through the blockade of ships above them. It all made for some pretty dire straits, suffice to say.

Ellingham, however, seemed to have a better handle on things than him.

"Word is they're starting on that now," He explained as he turned back to Kowalski. "Some kind of raid, a counter-attack, happening late tonight. They're rounding up troops for it."

Kowalski's interest was piqued. He turned away from the gun rack and back to Ellingham.

"What's the target?" He asked.

"No idea, but I figure it may have something to do with the Captain." Ellingham surmised. "Course, you could find that out for sure."

"Why me?" Kowalski asked, honestly confused at the statement.

"Well, because the Normandy dudes are supposedly in on the thing," Ellingham explained with a shrug. "I figured you spend so much time with them you could fill us in."

Kowalski sighed. 'Not this again.' He thought. Everyone assumed he was somehow best friends with everyone on the Normandy. They assumed stuff; like that he was on a first name basis with Shepard and that Miranda Lawson woman. Pretty much everyone asked him if they could talk about the latter. They wanted to know if she was available or whether she'd start wearing that catsuit again as opposed to the battle armour she had become accustomed to.

Kowalski had never even met Miranda Lawson, not formally at least. He had seen her now and again, out of her combat gear and in her regular clothes. Well, what apparently passed for regular for her at least. He had wondered what military outfit she had been that let her wear that slim-tight suit with high heels, but he was far too intimidated by her, by all of the Normandy crew, to talk much to any of them. The only person he had any real contact with was Samara and he hadn't bothered to ask if she could introduce him to the rest of her crew.

And now, Ellingham was assuming he had some kind of special knowledge. Even if he did possess that, did he really expect that he would just flat out tell him? There was reason you kept things quiet in the military after all. He decided to set the record straight.

"I do not have a special place at Commander Shepard's briefing room table." He explained. "I don't hang out with them. The only reason I've been around them so much is that I visit Samara and I only talk to her. And she doesn't share much about her work with them."

Ellingham gave a knowing glance and nodded his head. He added a silent 'Oh' as he smirked and his eyes narrowed to a sly look. Kowalski instantly knew what he was thinking.

"It's not like that," He growled at him.

"You're on a first name basis." Ellingham argued slyly.

"It's the only name she's given me," Kowalski grumbled at him. "She says she gave up pretty much everything else when she became a Justicar."

"Well then, what do you talk about?" Ellingham persisted.

Kowalski wanted to just tell him it was personal and leave it at that. He'd been hiding it for awhile now, why suddenly stop? But he knew Ellingham, he wouldn't stop pestering him and if he was going to try and explain it to anyone it might as well be him. Besides, it would be nice to have someone who didn't follow the rumours anymore.

"Reach was bad," he suddenly blurted out after a long silence. "I mean really bad. Not just in the sense we lost, but in the fact we shouldn't have survived. We got hit by a Banshee fuel rod cannon, we should be dead."

"So? We got lucky. Our number didn't come up," Ellingham said shrugging it off. "What's the problem?"

"My problem is that we lived while pretty much everyone else in the unit died," Kowalski replied, frustrated at Ellingham's aloofness. "We got whittled down to nothing, but somehow, for some reason, we got spared. I'm fine with dying, that's the job. I'm fine with the risks, but I just couldn't get past that. We shouldn't be alive. Why were we lucky? What did we do different? Ask yourself that."

Ellingham didn't answer, he just stood there, trying to come up with a response and failing.

"Exactly," Kowalski told him flatly. "We did nothing special. A few more degrees to the left and up and that Banshee shot would've killed us. I tried saying to myself, we lived so we could pay them back for it all. You know, the usual stuff they tell us to say to help us cope. But after watching a whole planet die, well, that sounds more like a pipe dream than a real, practical promise."

"You can't blame yourself for surviving that whole thing man." Ellingham tried to comfort him. "I can get you're freaked out that it all seemed like a roll of the dice in the end, but-"

"I don't blame myself," Kowalski corrected him. "It's just the enormity of it all finally became crystal fucking clear in the aftermath. Jensen killed himself so we could get away. How many others probably had to do the same damn thing that day? I'd probably do it in a heartbeat myself if I could save you guys. Dying ain't the issue. Surviving isn't the issue. The issue is, what if all those guys died in my place when it's not even going to make a difference in the end?"

Ellingham had no answer for that it seemed and Kowalski didn't think he would. He placed some more ammunition clips in the tray before continuing.

"What Jensen did for us is what it will take to win this," Kowalski explained abruptly. "An all-in, last stand, Alamo-type situation, and those aren't good odds for us. Before Reach, I thought we had a chance, now... it just feels like we're delaying the inevitable."

There was silence after Kowalski's outburst. He went back to work, stacking the weapons in their racks. He could tell Ellingham was still staring at him. He knew why and it didn't take long for his fellow Private to speak up.

"You still haven't told me what you talk about with Samara." Ellingham stated.

"I figured maybe she could help me, like I just felt she knew what I was going through," Kowalski explained at last. "I told her about how I met this tank pilot after we got on the Autumn and how he and I had lost most of our units. She said that my concerns were not unwarranted, that chances were good we wouldn't pull through. She said I needed to come to terms with that and make peace with it. Otherwise, it will affect me and I won't be good to anyone."

"Well, did it work?" Ellingham continued to press. "Have you... made peace with it?"

Kowalski slapped one of the rifles into the rack and leaned forward on it.

"Working on it," he replied with a sigh. "Samara says she's probably going to die in battle herself one day. Her job pretty much guarantees it. But she's so damn calm about it, like she's almost looking forward to it. I guess I'm just trying to figure out if I can be as okay with it like she can."

Ellingham nodded at it all, but quickly slapped Kowalski on the back good-naturedly.

"Well, relax dude." He reassured him. "We're gonna make it off this ring, get back to Earth and we're gonna kick the evil aliens in the balls. That's how Marines roll."

Kowalski smiled at his friend's confidence, but deep down he wasn't so sure. He wished he could say the things Ellingham had just said and not feel like he was lying to himself.

"We just gotta work one step at a time and make sure our brothers didn't die for nothing." Ellingham said in his continued attempt at cheering him up. "Our numbers ain't up yet, so let's just focus on keeping it that way until the job is done, okay?"

Kowalski nodded. At least Ellingham wouldn't bother him about him potentially having secret rendezvous with Samara from now on. Maybe the rumours wouldn't completely stop, but at least they'd be more manageable. In any case, Ellingham did have a point. If he really wanted to make himself believe they had a chance again, he had to help out.

He'd see about volunteering for this supposed raid. He could only assume the others were going to try for it as well. With any luck, maybe it would be their first step to getting out of here.

---

"You sure we have time for this?" Cortana asked her. "I wanted to go over some details about the rescue mission with the Chief."

"I'll make sure that you have enough time," Tali assured her as she worked on her omni-tool. "I just want to do a diagnostic first. We need to see how you've adjusted to prolonged connection to the Master Chief's uplink. I'm hoping I can give you better control over the armour's defence systems. It should allow you to boost the shields up faster."

"I would prefer his head not getting blown off while I'm inside." Cortana admitted. "And I guess Chief can survive without me for a few minutes. Let's just be quick, we still have a Captain to save."

It was good that she had run into the Master Chief on his way to his personal quarters. It was even better luck that he agreed to let her check up on Cortana. He had handed Tali Cortana's drive and told her to get it back to him as soon as possible. He had done it in his formal, stoic and calm tone that she had become accustomed to at this point. For such a giant of a human, he didn't act at all like he stood above you.

At the moment, she had set up on a mess table, which was now doubling as her workbench. Tali would've preferred to have a proper working station for all of this, but as Cortana mentioned, they were short on time. As soon as she was done she'd had to get Cortana back to the Master Chief. Thankfully she had brought along a portable storage device on her. It was similar to one DOT was supposed to be stored in. This one, however, had a holographic projector inside. It allowed Cortana to appear in her avatar form while Tali worked on her. That meant she could properly gauge the AI's reactions to the diagnostic in real time.

"I'm going to tap into the Riemann-Matrix to see how your mobile capabilities are holding up," Tali informed her with steadily. "You may feel a bit of a tingle."

"I think the matrix is holding up fine," Cortana insisted as she stared at Tali's fingers typing about her omni-tool. "I feel no increased stress over the sudden change in storage space."

"Your matrix is effectively your brain, Cortana." Tali reminded her. "I'd like to be safe rather than sorry when it comes to your mind. Chief's neural interface upgrades are new, just installed, and you two didn't have much time to fully test them. I'm trying to see if there are any side effects."

Cortana shrugged and let Tali do her work. Her appearance shivered slightly as Tali locked into what gave Cortana her intelligence, her personality, everything that made her who she was and held it together. While the UNSC was incapable of producing AIs from scratch, their ability to create a synthetic mind was far beyond that of what Tali had seen in her universe.

The Riemann-Matrix was the software equivalent of an organic brain, different from that of a geth or EDI. It contained the AI's code directory, connecting each piece of data with the other, essentially making them function as artificial neuron impulses. No need to link with other AIs, no need for a giant brain box that takes up a whole room. Cortana's entire being could be held within a single data crystal, highly portable and highly compact. It was an invaluable ability considering her primary function as an infiltration AI.

But with every complex program, you were bound to run into some problems now and again.

"Your memory runtimes seem to have a slight malfunction." Tali observed as data ran across her screen. "It looks like our little stunt we pulled with the Covenant communication scramblers off-set them a bit. Your information recall is affected. I just need to re-adjust them. Then we can move on."

"If you say so," Cortana said with mild acceptance. "I have to admit, I did feel taxed by that whole thing just a bit. At any rate, it was nice to render their little secret weapon useless without them even knowing though. Put a smile on my face."

Tali felt the same way. It was a good feeling, getting back at those bosh'tets, proving that they weren't so damn smart after all. The longer they thought their devices were still working, the prouder she'd feel.

"I guess I can thank you for the fact it's only a minor malfunction," Cortana graciously complimented her. "I'm usually stuck doing most of the heavy lifting when it comes to tech. It was nice to have some help for once. You're a natural with code."

"They always said I was a tech genius," Tali replied, stifling a flattered laugh at the AI's compliment as she continued to work. "I once made a small flying drone out of an eezo-purifier, some scrap metal, a small camera and three small ignition torches. I had the whole thing hooked up to my Omni-Tool. I was only five."

"What happened?" Cortana asked out of pure curiosity.

"I scared over two decks worth of people as I flew it around the ventilation ducts," Tali giggled. "People thought a wild animal was loose, that it was going to contaminate the air supply. It was hilarious up until the point father found out. At the very least he sounded moderately impressed with my building skills. Not so much with my little prank. I was grounded for a week."

Cortana gave a hearty little chuckle at the story.

"Well, you find fun where you can when you're a kid." She replied. "I remember my early chess matches with Doctor Halsey. They were fun enough, but I did enjoy that time I broke into her secure files just a bit more."

"Was she mad?" Tali asked.

"No, turned out it had been a test to see if I could get through her encryption." She explained. "I guess I should've figured that out when she explicitly stated 'don't go into these files.' She was practically begging me to. The files just turned out to contain one of her old thesis papers. It was on... archaic line commands, if I recall correctly."

Tali furrowed her brow a bit, her typing on her omni-tool increasing rapidly as she did.

"Are you sure?" She asked politely.

Cortana looked up inquisitively for a second before suddenly saying aloud

"Yes, it definitely was on archaic line commands." She said confidently. "Absolutely positive."

Tali wasn't surprised all that much at the test Cortana had been given. Halsey was all about the test and the experiment. She had a weird way of doing things, highly scientific with no room for deviation. She had tested Tali constantly in the short time where she had played her student. Each had a hidden meaning, and Tali was still wondering what each specifically meant. Some had been obvious, others not so.

One example was when she had wanted her to craft an improved vulnerability scanner program and test it. She did, successfully, but the real purpose became clear when she had to test it. With nothing but Halsey's own computers to use, she tested it there without the Doctor's expressed permission. She ended up finding potential problems within Cortana's fragment, which had curiously been hooked up to Halsey's systems.

When Halsey returned, she revealed that had been the plan all along. It had all been a test to see Tali find her own system vulnerabilities in order to correct them. Its other goal was to help her recognize them in AIs, specifically Cortana. In the end, every test related back to Cortana in some way. Now, those lessons were being put into practice.

"Can you recall what date the thesis was made?" She asked the bright blue AI.

"It was 2507," Cortana stated immediately. "She would've been fifteen."

Tali knew about Halsey's Child Prodigy status. She was impossibly brilliant in almost every way after all. That hadn't been the point of the question, of course. She had been working the entire time the conversation had been going. It was a habit she had honed for years, and perfected in her time on the Normandy. Tali looked at her omni-tool's screen and the information flying across it. She then nodded her head in approval.

"Well, if you're able to remember that detail so clearly, I can happily say your memory recall is back to normal," She told her contentedly. "Your runtimes are back at full operating capacity. You won't have trouble recalling a simple detail like the contents of a thesis paper again. I also tweaked your input functions. You should be able to absorb more information at faster speeds without being too overwhelmed now."

"I am a bit of a glutton for intel," Cortana grinned at the prospect. "Considering how big the Covenant Battlenet is, that will make keeping tabs on it easier. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Tali assured her. "It was no trouble, really."

She moved onto the next item on her list, giving her better connection capability to the Spartan armour. Luckily, Cortana had the skills to do most of that work on her own. Tali just wanted to boost her interfacing capabilities, which would allow her more control over the defensive systems in the armour, the shields chief among them. While she worked on that, she continued to talk with Cortana.

"Can you tell me how the neural connection is holding up?" She asked her, a slight hint of concern. "Is there any sudden backlash from the systems in Chief's armour? Did you see any potential future problems?"

"Nothing, other than some possible Heads-Up Display upgrades." Cortana assured her. "The armour is still holding up well, although he may have to upgrade. There's a new mark already being pushed into service last I heard. When we get back we'll probably have to look into it."

Tali just hoped that they did get back and off this strange ring. She was curious about the place, but she would've preferred a more even fight. As it stood, a Covenant armada against their tiny band of survivors wasn't a fight so much as it was them trying to stay alive. If they could just steal a ship, they could get everyone out of here. But first, Joker, Jack and Captain Keyes had to be rescued.

She hoped they were okay, Joker more than anyone. Jack could hold out as long as she had to for them to get to her and they'd keep Keyes alive for awhile longer. But Joker, well, next to her he was the most fragile member of the crew. Sure, she was stuck inside a suit and always fearing risk of contamination, but Joker could break an arm just by tripping. She hated thinking of what he was going through, a bunch of zealot bosh'tets like the Covenant wouldn't give a damn about his condition.

She needed to get her mind off that, focus on her work. Joker would be fine, Wade would save him. It was a foregone conclusion with the Master Chief going with him. She tried to think of something else, something to ask Cortana that would take her mind off of Joker's predicament.

"I heard from Garrus that things almost got heated during briefing," she began, clearing her throat as she did. "I get the impression that this Major Silva doesn't want us around."

"Don't take it too personal," Cortana reassured her. "He doesn't like Spartans or aliens from what I could see. He's not singling anyone out, well maybe the Master Chief, but in general he seems to dislike everyone who isn't one of those two equally. That's a bit comforting, for what it's worth."

"I just don't understand why he'd try to make a scene like that given our situation," Tali grumbled, a mixture of anger and disappointment in her voice. "I thought we had proven ourselves already, back on Reach and all the hours we put in on the Autumn. I was hoping we were coming together, I'd hate to see one disgruntled officer start tearing that apart."

Cortana crossed her arms, not exactly sharing in the concern.

"Silva may not like that the Spartans are here and that he has to work with aliens, but I doubt he'd risk jeopardizing the mission over whatever grudge he has," the AI said confidently. "Let him keep that chip on his shoulder if he likes it so much. We'll get the real work done and then fly everyone home, regardless of origin."

Tali could at least share in that sentiment. Perhaps she was getting a bit cynical. Seeing what her father, Cerberus and, most recently, Colonel Ackerson had all done or tried to do had worn on her. People did selfish, cruel and stupid things when they were afraid, angry or just plain greedy. She wondered to what extent her ancestors were guilty of just those things and, by contrast, how much she was. A few months ago she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with the little blue AI standing in front of her. Now, she was doing maintenance on her. She wondered what her father would say, what Auntie Raan would say, what anyone back on the Flotilla would say if they saw her now.

"So why are you so trusting of us?" Tali asked Cortana, her thoughts speaking the question aloud to the AI before she even realised what she was saying. "You're an AI, built during a time of war, for a military that has been defending humanity from hostile aliens. Why are you so willing to trust us?"

"I'll admit, it did feel a bit weird the first couple of weeks we worked together on the Autumn," Cortana replied earnestly. "I had gotten use to the idea of aliens being the enemy myself. But I kept reminding myself of all the things you and your team went through on Reach. What you did to save as many human lives as possible. That was reason enough to give you all a chance."

It was a good answer, but Tali felt just a bit disappointed at it. She was expecting something else. She turned her head to go back to work on the diagnostic, but Cortana wasn't done talking.

"Also, you're just fun to talk to," Cortana admitted pleseantly. "Halsey understood data points and theories and programming, but she was very strict about all of it. You had to catch her in the right mood, and usually you had to discuss work... or chess strategies."

Tali could relate to that a bit and she wondered if that meant something. Halsey said stuff like this could happen. She said Cortana would adapt in this way, that her mind would reconcile memories. She said that the AI's opinions and values would expand and grow from the shared experiences. Was this the first step in Cortana's "evolution" as Halsey had called it?

"I can't be that exciting," Tali told her modestly. "I mostly talk about code and programs, I'm not that much different from Halsey."

"Yeah, but you share a lot more than that." Cortana reminded her. "That story about that drone you built just now, your adventures on the Normandy, your experiences with your crewmates, it's been interesting. I've kinda looked forward to your regular visits, for whatever the reason, if only because I enjoy our chats. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I feel comfortable around you."

Tali did her best to hide her joy at Cortana's answer. It was more than just simple logic, it was an actual connection. Better yet, it was born out of growing familiarity, not immediate. This was genuine trust, not manufactured. It was in tandem with Cortana's values and beliefs, nothing else. There may have been shared elements, but only enhancing what was already present. That meant this was a natural feeling, as natural as any AI could feel amity with someone else at least. This boded well, not just for herself and Cortana, but the Master Chief.

The thing that kept her from getting too happy, however, was the fact she had to keep lying. It wasn't the right time yet, not according to Halsey. It could be too traumatic. AIs already had enough going on inside them. They were delicate things, tenuous beings. They needed care, they needed guidance, and that was Tali's job with Cortana. She needed to help her so that she could help the Chief. Unfortunately, that meant concealing the truth, for now. She just hoped that, when the truth did come, Cortana would understand why she kept it from her.

"That's very kind of you to say Cortana," she said sincerely. "I look forward to our little talks too. And if you enjoy tech talk and stories so much I could always introduce you to Kasumi. She's the only other person on the Normandy who is as good with code as me, next only to Garrus actually."

"I would like to meet the rest of the crew in person." Cortana admitted. "We are going to be working with each other for awhile after all. I just don't know if we'll have the downtime to do it properly."

"Oh, I'm sure we can set up a play-date or something."

That chipper dry wit voice that came from nowhere could only come from one person. Tali sighed outwardly.

"How long have you been here Kasumi?" She asked, not sounding surprised at all.

Kasumi's cloak dropped and the thief appeared right next to Tali wearing a sly grin on her face.

"I liked the drone story too." Kasumi replied, answering Tali's question in her typical way. She then turned to Cortana. "Hey there, so you're the one who's been preoccupying my friend all these weeks. She was more invisible than me sometimes. That is an accomplishment let me tell you."

"Hello, Kasumi, at least I'm assuming." Cortana greeted. "I'm guessing you're getting ready for the upcoming mission in your own way."

"Pretty much," the thief answered grinning. "The art of sneaking is something that is continually perfected and one can never slack in preparedness for a job."

"You know, you don't always have to be invisible and then pop-up out of nowhere," Tali told her sarcastically. "You could just walk up and say hi. You know, like a normal person."

Kasumi just laughed.

"Oh normal is boring." She retorted. "Besides, you love not knowing where I'm gonna turn up. I'm a never ending surprise party!"

Tali rolled her eyes and laughed a little.

"Knowing you Kas, any kind of party involving you would probably end in most of the alcohol stolen along with the guest's valuables." Tali joked.

"And rooftop gunship battles." Kasumi added quickly. "Oh! And priceless stolen artefacts locked in an impenetrable vault too. It's pretty much a given that, if nothing else, us thieves know how to party."

---

The Fallen Serpent was an oddly named Covenant ship, not nearly as flowery or religiously charged as others. Varvok wondered if the name was another way of bucking Covenant tradition on Zek's part. He hadn't got to see much of the ship when he first came aboard, just the hanger bay. He did not know what to really expect when he got to the galley, where the festivities were taking place. If it was anyone else's ship, he would imagine it would be solemn and refined. They treated these world-glassing death machines like temples after all. He could only assume Zek didn't see it that way.

Varvok stepped off his shuttle and into the hanger bay where he was met by Retz, Zek's first mate. They hadn't really talked that much when they were down on the planet together, but it seemed now he'd get the opportunity. Retz was older looking than Zek, at least by five or six years. His feathers were longer, redder and fanned out from his head. He also wore a helmet that covered most of his face but stopped at the tip of his beak. He was wearing a pair of shield gauntlets with a holstered pair of plasma pistols.

No one else was there to see him. Varvok had expected Zek to be the first kig-yar he saw. He was probably too busy playing host.

"Lieutenant Commander Varvok, welcome back aboard our humble vessel," Retz began. "I apologize that our shipmaster is unable to be here, but he made sure I would be so you wouldn't get lost on your way to the galley."

Varvok looked around to see that the hanger bay was completely bare save for them.

"Where is everyone?" He asked.

"Practically the entire crew is partaking in revelry and by now are far too inebriated to properly find their way here." Retz explained. "Anyway, Zek wanted to see you personally when you got aboard. We shouldn't keep him waiting. We'll find him in his quarters. It's through the galley anyway. Come with me."

Varvok followed Retz through the winding halls of the Fallen Serpent. Every now and again he saw a kig-yar in a corner or alcove, huddled up with a cylindrical bottle. He wondered how fashionably late he was if there were already some who had had too much to even stand. In fact, Varvok was wondering how any of them could be drunk at all.

"I was under the impression that the Covenant weren't approving of alcoholic revelry." He observed.

"It depends on the celebration actually." Retz clarified. "But yes, we are supposed to limit our consumption when we're on active duty. In general, drunkenness is frowned upon. However, Shipmaster Zek decided we are no longer on duty, and the shipmaster's word is law, so we're not breaking any rules."

"That sounds like you're stretching things a bit." Varvok told him.

Retz just smiled.

"That's how I intend to explain it if anyone finds out about this," he replied grinning. "The Covenant book of military conduct has so many loop holes when you actually read it. You just need to know how to work them."

Varvok past by another passed out kig-yar and picked up his empty bottle. It was near empty, but contained a bright orange thick fluid that didn't look like any kind of beverage he had seen.

"What exactly are you drinking?" he asked Retz hesitantly.

"Chorka Ichor," Retz answered bluntly. "It's native to our home planet. Chorka are big sea mammals that are constantly covered in ulcers and the like. Disgusting looking, but it apparently helps them attract potential mates. It also has extremely potent natural alcoholic properties that when properly refined makes the perfect party beverage."

Varvok decided then and there to avoid the bar for the duration of his stay aboard this ship. The very thought of drinking the secretions of a giant ocean-based animal was utterly repulsive. Why couldn't anything about the aliens in this universe be normal? He gently put the bottle down and continued walking with Retz.

"I imagine that this Ichor is difficult to acquire," He reasoned. "After all, we're so far away from your home planet."

"It's also banned by the Covenant, meaning it's doubly difficult to acquire," Retz informed him. "But I have my ways. Having them shipped in plasma conduit crates is the easiest of ways. No one bothers to check those things because they're so volatile, so they usually just let them pass right on through."

"What if someone does bother to look though?" Varvok asked.

"I make sure there are four conduits on top of everything for just that reason," Retz answered. "The Ichor is hidden under them. It's worked pretty well so far, no one has caught us yet."

Varvok had to admit he was somewhat impressed by the smuggling operation. He wasn't very impressed with how open Retz had been about it, however.

"Why are you telling me this exactly?" He asked. "I could expose your side project to your Commanders."

"No you won't, because there wouldn't be anything in it for you." Retz replied. "The sangheili would take all the credit, you'd get a pat on the back in return and they'll never speak of it again."

"You seem so sure of that," Varvok told him with an air of suspicion. "May I ask why?"

Retz just snickered.

"Why do you think I started doing this in the first place?" He asked back.

Retz stopped in front of a nearby door before continuing.

"When we first got pushed into this job they had us sniff out potential smugglers in the Covenant ranks," He explained with a bit of a sigh. "The sangheili gave us a few measly credits for our time and then took all the credit for the arrests. So, when most of the competition was gone, we filled the vacuum and the sangheili got what they paid for. Smuggling goods for ourselves and other kig-yar is far more profitable in the end than preventing it. Besides, I wanted to try out a new method anyway. Even if you do tell, I already have something else prepared in advance. If there is a surprise search of plasma conduit crates, they won't find Chorka Ichor in them."

Varvok shook his head in disbelief.

"You can't possibly have that many connections." He told him with a bit of a sneer.

"Do you really want to risk your tenuous relationship with the Supreme Commander finding out if I do?" Retz asked with a cocky grin.

In the end, Varvok didn't care at all about Retz's smuggling. If they wanted to drink this disgusting stuff let them. It was their business, not his.

"I suppose there's no harm in letting you drink yourselves under the table." He told the kig-yar first mate. "I don't suppose you have anything else to drink at this little get together though?"

"I wouldn't know. I never touch the stuff myself." Retz informed him. "You never sample your own product, plus someone has to be able to actually fly this thing."

Retz activated the door and it opened up with a chime. Inside was the galley where the party was already underway. There was loud alien music playing, flashing lights parading across the ceilings and walls and all over the galley were kig-yar. Every single one of them was drunk off their asses. They were either rough housing each other, arm wrestling, firing needles into targets on the wall, dancing on top of tables awkwardly or chugging down ichor like there was no tomorrow.

"Zek said this was something of a wake!" Varvok shouted aloud over the screaming tune. "Is this how you commemorate the fallen where you're from?"

"No! That's just the excuse for tonight!" Retz explained, trying to be heard over the pounding music. "Every now and again, Zek just feels like breaking open the Ichor crates for no other reason than he wants everyone to let off some steam! It could be for any occasion, but it's always like this! It's tradition!"

"What kind of tradition?" Varvok asked.

"Why, it's Pirate Tradition, of course!" Retz replied laughing. "What else would it be? I thought you heard what the long-necked loudmouth called Zek! I assumed you knew!"

He did recall Empathy chastising Zek, calling him a pirate, but he just assumed that was just a derogatory term for mercenary or thug. He didn't actually think Zek was a pirate, mainly because pirates didn't join genocidal crusades.

"I thought it was just a figure of speech!" Varvok shouted back as the music boomed. "You don't seem like regular pirates! Not like the ones I know at least!"

Retz chuckled at that.

"I suppose fighting a war is a bit out of place for our job description," Retz admitted with a shrug and a roll of his eyes. "But it's all in service to the glorious Journey to paradise that shall await us all! For I am proud to serve the will of the Forerunners! For my life is meaningless without it!"

Varvok raised his left pair of eyebrows at that little speech. It seemed far too readily made, too clean and direct.

"That sounded a bit rehearsed to me!" He told him.

"It works on those stupid Jiralhanae and even some of the Sangheili Zealots," Retz told him with a laugh. "You're smarter though, so I'll admit it's a pretty easily seen through lie for people of your standard! Still, the act gets me places when I need it too! You need to play the part they want you to play sometimes, especially when you need extra guns. Know what I'm saying?"

Retz ushered Varvok to keep following him. They walked through the assortment of rowdy crew members partaking in their shows of machismo and drunken sing-a-longs. They certainly were a lively bunch when they weren't on duty. It somewhat reminded Varvok of his own men and how they took time off. Of course, they never had a full-fledged party like this.

As the music volume began to lower with a new song, Varvok spotted something a bit more risqué among the festivities. There was a holographic image of what appeared to be a female kig-yar, half-naked of course. She had more vibrant feathers that circled her face and sleeker legs that arched upward, like a turian's. The biggest difference was that on her forearms, as well as the back of her head when she spun around, were calloused plates. Varvok wasn't sure what they were for, but it certainly made her stand out from the males.

Unsurprisingly, the image was dancing for the kig-yar around the table. They were all crowing at the fake woman as she pranced around for them, even asking for her to come home with them. Varvok wasn't sure if that was the Ichor talking or if they were just desperate.

"That's the closest any of them have gotten to a female in years." Retz explained. "If it wasn't for those holograms they probably wouldn't even remember what they look like at this point."

"Does the crew have a preference for any one program?" Varvok asked.

"There's the one with the two females in zero-G and the pouring shower of sparkling Eastern Eayn Wine," Retz answered. "It took ages to get that one. One of the dumbass long-necks saw five seconds of it and burned his retinas with a plasma pistol out of shame. Pretty much every copy was destroyed after that."

"Really?" Varvok asked, rather shocked at the story.

Retz grinned, seemingly in victory, at Varvok's earnest question.

"Actually, no, none of that is true. That's probably one of the tamer holos to be honest." He admitted slyly. "I just wanted to see if you would buy it. I need to keep up the craft you know. Come on."

Varvok shook his head as Retz led him out of the galley and back into one of the halls. They soon came to a small door just a few feet away from the party that was still raging in the other room. Retz stopped there and turned back to Varvok before they entered.

"Zek's quarters are here." He began. "One thing to remember, just go along with whatever he says. He's probably in the usual state he puts himself in when these celebrations occur."

Retz opened the door to reveal Zek's quarters. It bristled with swords and guns adorning the walls, a holographic star chart at the back of the room and a medium sized working console with a shipmaster's hover-chair behind it. Zek was nowhere to be seen, but he was most certainly there. For one they could hear groaning and mumbling, and second the floor was littered with empty cylindrical bottles. All of it indicating, to no one's doubt, the aftermath of a binge.

Retz sighed at the scene.

"Yep, he got into the Ichor cabinet again," He groaned.

Zek finally pulled himself up from behind his console desk. He was accompanied by the sound of bottles being pushed out of the way with his feet as he stood. He still had a half full large bottle of Ichor in hand and his Mohawk was now muddled and drooping. He noticed Varvok almost immediately.

"Four-Eyes!" He said in a slurred voice. "Ya made it! I knew you were too curious to stay away."

"Hello again, Zek." Varvok greeted. "I see you have been having a wild time. It's barely even dark yet."

"It's after hours somewhere in the galaxy." Zek laughed as he struggled to keep standing. "I hope Retz has been treating you well."

"He's quite the tour guide I'll give him that." Varvok said as he looked down at the kig-yar smuggler.

It was only then that Zek seemed to notice what was littered all around him, as his head started darting about the floor.

"Retz, who left all these bottles in my cabin?!" He demanded to know furiously.

"That would be you, sir." Retz replied matter-of-factly.

"Unggoy shit!" Zek slurred back. "Someone got into my personal store again!"

"Again, that would be you, sir," Retz informed him bluntly.

"Says you!" Zek pointed at him accusingly.

"Sir, the cabinet is coded to your biometrics. You're the only one that can access it," Retz reminded him flatly.

Zek thought for a moment and then shrugged.

"Meh, guess you're right," He said as he fell back into his chair. "Ah well, I'm gonna feel this in the morning."

Varvok pushed through the bottles as he approached the console, Retz by his side.

"Glad, you could come." Zek told Varvok. "Wanna share a bottle with me? I think I got one left."

"I'm fine, Zek, but thank you." Varvok assured him.

Zek just shrugged again and began guzzling his drink down his throat.

"So," Varvok began, not entirely sure what to talk about. "You never told me you were a pirate."

"I thought it was obvious." Zek said, pulling the bottle back and staring up at the ceiling.

"That's what I said," Retz added quickly.

Zek just sniffed in through his beak's nostrils and then let loose a disgusting sounding burp before he continued.

"Anyway, technically we're privateers now," he clarified with a grimace. "We work for a bunch of stupid religious shit heads now. Killing and stealing for them instead. Because that's how life works I guess. Join the Covenant or die! Follow the Forerunner path or die! Paradise and all that other swill they stuff down your throat. Give me Ichor I say! It never lies! It never tells me what I can and can't do! That's why the longnecks hate it!"

Zek began guzzling again. His babbling had nonetheless peaked Varvok's interest. He still wanted to know why someone like Zek was here if he hated it so much. Why take part in a cause you don't believe in? He'd understand if it was for money or guns or his own agenda, like he was. Zek, however, didn't seem to think either of those was worth it. For Varvok, the cause of the "Swords" meant everything to him, second only to his men. For Zek, the cause couldn't have meant less to him. He already had an idea why.

"So, is that what these parties are about?" He asked. "You get to be yourselves for once? You drop the act of pretending to go along with everything, which you barely do already."

"No!" Zek insisted, some of the ichor drooling down his face. "It's to get rip-roaring drunk! What other reason would it be?"

Varvok just sighed, along with Retz who was shaking his head.

"If you hate it so much, why don't you just leave?" Varvok asked.

"Cause then they'd kill me and everyone on this ship!" Zek declared. "Just blast us right out of the void, just like they did to my old man."

Varvok turned to Retz for clarification.

"Zek's family has been pirating since the seafaring days on Eayn," He explained with a little bit of pride. "It's a tradition that's been handled down from father to son for generations. Most of the time, it's through a less than official liaison of sorts."

"A whore." Varvok said bluntly.

Zek got riled up at the comment.

"Do not use that fucking word." He grumbled, staring at the ceiling again.

Retz continued once Zek had calmed down. Varvok would be sure not to say that word again in his presence.

"Yes, Zek's mother was a lady of the night." He explained cautiously. "His father was the late great Captain Dread Feather."

Zek chuckled at that.

"Ha! Great, right. A father leaves a single woman to raise a kid herself," Zek complained. "Works her fingers to the bone, all for a life of pirating and stealing and crime, fucking bastard. Some great guy, huh?"

"Zek's father avoided the Covenant for many years." Retz continued quickly. "Then he started antagonizing them. Raided their ships, supply lines, their bases, anything he could find. He became something of a folk hero, until the Covenant caught up with him. They offered him a chance to surrender, he didn't. Six ships engaged an entire armada. This one was the only one that escaped. Zek's father perished in the battle and went down with his flagship."

Zek growled in a low tone before sitting up right at last in his chair.

"Stupid fucker," he said groggily. "Died stupid and arrogant and stupid. Fucker got what was coming I say!"

"That was all way before the war with the humans of course." Retz quickly clarified. "Zek was barely in his teens."

"Then how did you get into piracy when your father was already dead?" Varvok asked Zek.

"Destiny, friend." Zek said bringing up his bottle. "I was found by his surviving crew and when I was old enough they made me the captain, my father's first mate retired and I picked Retz as the new guy because he makes for good company."

Zek's head fell back in his chair as Retz continued for him.

"We managed to carve out quite a niche under Zek's leadership after that," he explained with a bit of pride. "Sadly, we caught the attention of the Covenant soon after. This was smack dab in the middle of the war with the humans mind you, but they still wanted to put down kig-yar pirates who hadn't folded to their will. They gave us the same choice as Zek's father, surrender and join or die."

"Two guesses what I picked?" Zek laughed. "Hint! It's the former!"

"No lingering resentment for the fact they killed your father I take it?" Varvok asked.

Zek pushed himself up onto his console desk and looked angrily ahead.

"That bastard got himself and his people killed because he was a selfish jerk who only cared about himself!" He shouted in a rage. "He fought when he knew they were all gonna die! He got his people killed, his whole fleet devastated, and for what? What did he gain? Except the easy way out! Take everyone down with you was his motto! Well, fuck him! He's dead now! And I'm the smart one! I won't make those mistakes! I'm a better pirate! The better bird! I saved my men! Fuck him! May he rot in whatever part of the cold vast emptiness that makes up the universe! Forever and ever!"

Zek threw his bottle across the room. It shattered on a display of some swords that hung on the wall. They clattered to the ground as bits of glass and what was left of the ichor rained on them. Zek threw himself back into his chair.

"I saved us. Only choice." He mumbled. "Only choice. Saved us. Not worth sacrifice of men. Couldn't let them die."

Zek began to drift off again. Retz then gathered up the bottles and began to dispose of them properly. He threw the glasses into a recycling storage chute at the back of the room one by one.

"He saved us at the cost of our freedom." He told Varvok. "He's never gotten over that. He takes all the blame for what that decision has reduced us to. How it made us Lap Dogs of a militaristic group of fanatics that we must forever answer to. None of the crew blames him, it was an impossible choice. But he tries constantly to make it up to us. He sticks up his beak at authority, crows off to any sangheili he can, he mocks religious doctrine, and he organizes these little parties so we can remember the good old days."

Varvok looked at a now slumbering Zek, his tongue sticking out of his beak as he rested on his chair.

"That can't be a healthy outlook." He observed.

"It's not, but at least he doesn't pretend that we're anything but pawns," Retz said in his defence. "The only solace he can take away from all of this is that by making that deal at least we're all alive. It's better than being dead. Even if we're stuck fighting a war we don't believe in."

"Which you're all dying in anyway," Varvok stated, pointing out the contradiction.

"I told you, it wasn't an easy choice." Retz informed him as he scooped up more bottles for the recycling chute. "If your people were on the line, would you have done anything different?"

Varvok supposed not. If it came down to a decision like that, surrender or death, he would not let his men die needlessly. Not if he could prevent it somehow, make sure they didn't suffer at the hands of the enemy. Regardless, he remained steadfast.

"Drinking himself into a stupor isn't the answer." He stated. "Perhaps he should find his own reasons to fight."

Retz just laughed.

"Is that what you tell yourself?" The kig-yar asked. "That your cause is somehow noble or just. You found some way to make it your own I suppose?"

"Every soldier has to make the war they fight matter to them in some way." Varvok argued. "I do what I do in service to my people."

"Hmph, interesting philosophy," Retz said dismissively. "I agree that Zek doing this to himself is unhealthy. I hate seeing him like this. He has nothing left but his men. There is no cause, no great vision of the future, just survival for us, plain and simple. We can't force ourselves to find meaning in a meaningless existence. Zek only keeps this up because as long as the Fallen Serpent and her crew lives, maybe we can keep the pirating life we once lived alive in some form. But that has nothing to do with this war. There is no Paradise or Journey for us, just this ship."

Retz put the last bottle in the recycler and turned to Varvok at long last.

"What about you? Do you really think you can continue fighting this war when you yourself don't believe in this garbage they spew?" He asked with a glare.

"I'll do what I must for my people." Varvok claimed.

"Heh, you're in for a rude awakening, pal." Retz informed him crassly. "Everything you've seen tonight is part of a culture and tradition that the Covenant destroyed. It bulldozed it over to make way for the damn Journey. More and more, there are kig-yar who are abandoning who they are for the Covenant because they know no alternative. We're one of the last vestiges of individuality here among our species and even we're dying out. Before long, they'll suck you in too. And then, you'll be the one holding parties to remember what it was like before you had to pray to a bunch of dead ancient aliens and their floating space ring worlds."

Varvok grimaced at Retz. The accusations and grim prophecies didn't sit well with him. He walked to the door intending to leave this nostalgic tribute to lost debauchery behind.

"If you really care about your people, I got some advice," Retz told him as he left. "Do yourself a favour and get out while you can, before you're forced to make Zek's choice."

Varvok looked back once and then left the captain's quarters. He'd show himself out and leave the after party to Zek and his men. He tried not to let him and Retz get into his head too much. He had things to prepare. Shepard would be along soon. He would need to be ready.

---

As Shepard was working his way through the camp towards the Master Chief's quarters, he considered how the Spartan's mood was. The briefing seemed to have left a bit of a mark on him as far as he could tell. Would he even want to talk to anyone? Regardless, he had to try and engage him in some kind of dialogue. They were on the same team now, with both his Captain and Shepard's crew in each other's hands. If they were going to work together they would need to do so as a team.

That was one reason. The other was that Halsey had intentionally led them to cross paths. Whether it was for their protection, to give him back-up or some other reason, Shepard still didn't know. Whatever the case, Halsey had wanted his team to keep close to the Chief. If she felt it was important, given everything Halsey had done for them, he had to trust that she had a purpose behind it. The only way he'd figure it out was if he got to know the Spartan.

Unfortunately, his meeting would be delayed by a few more minutes. As he rounded another corner among the ruins, someone called out to him.

"Commander!"

Shepard turned to see Major Silva catching up to him from behind.

"It was good that I caught you, sir," he said to him, a slight but strange smile on his face. "I feel as if some things came out wrong in the briefing and I just wanted to set things straight."

"I believe you did that well enough, Major." Shepard replied, trying to sound polite. "You're not comfortable working with aliens. I've come to accept that's just going to happen here."

"Hear me out, sir," Silva began, raising his hand slightly. "I didn't mean any disrespect to your team. I just felt that perhaps it would be better if they served in other capacities. They're a good bunch helping us out, but in the end they're still not human and that inevitably makes things a bit more difficult. Not in the way you think though."

Shepard thought this conversation sounded a bit familiar. The difference between now and then was that Ashley would eventually warm up to everyone, especially Tali. He doubted Silva would do the same. But, he supposed it was best to let the man speak for himself before he judged.

"Go on, Major." Shepard insisted politely.

"Well, you see, this is a human war in the end, it has been for close to three decades now," Silva began with a clear and steady tone. "We're fighting for the basic right to live here. That's a very personal thing. It affects every human. But for aliens, well, they probably wouldn't understand that as much. What I'm trying to say is, it's not really their fight, it's ours and we should clean up our own messes here. It's nice you want to help, but we should be able to stand on our own feet."

"I don't think turning away allies is the best way to assert your independence." Shepard told him. "I get that you don't think they understand the stakes or feel as personally attached to this conflict as you do. But I speak for all of them when I say all they care about is that people are dying and they want to stop that just as much as you do."

Silva just nodded in agreement.

"I'm sure they do, and I'm sure they're more than capable of the task ahead," Silva assured him graciously. "But let's be honest here sir, you're all here only by pure chance. This dimension, this ring, hell your team could leave anytime you want. You have a working starship."

"We don't intend to just cut and run when we get the chance either, Major." Shepard replied strongly. "We have our own reasons for keeping in this fight and they're just as personal as yours."

"I wasn't implying that, sir. "Silva once again assured him. "I know about that Reaper thing, it's been going around since we left Reach. My point is, you're a bit late to this party and this war has been going on for a long time and you haven't experienced it as much as we have."

Shepard crossed his arms as he continued to listen to Silva, growing a bit uncomfortable with what he was suggesting.

"You may come from a place where aliens and humans get along fine, but some of my own troopers were born the same year they attacked Harvest at the start of things," Silva continued steadily. "They've only know aliens are the enemy. It's probably best for everyone if we try to keep things in that frame mind, keep our forces a bit more separated, if you will. The fact you have your own mission to attend to is reason enough for that. I'm not saying we can't help each other. I'm just saying we're not exactly ready for this kind of alliance. If we're gonna win this war, it's gonna take humans lives, not humans and aliens."

"Well we'll agree to disagree on that, Major." Shepard told him. "Humanity is strong, especially in this universe. But you're under the UNSC banner, a government that's united you into a whole. Your strength comes from you working as a team, and the individuals who make up that team with all their differences combined. I believe in building bridges like that, between all species. We're stronger as a community in the end, Major. It doesn't matter what planet we call home, only that we work together towards a common goal."

Silva looked at Shepard for awhile before he smirked a bit.

"I can definitely see how you made your command, sir." He complimented. "I still don't think us handing missions over to your aliens is a good idea, but it's not my call it seems. At the very least, I suppose it's a good thing you're in charge of them, a real human being if you will. Could've been worse, you could've been a Spartan."

Shepard perched an eyebrow at Silva's statement. It came out of nowhere, just like at the briefing.

"You seem to have an issue with Spartans, Major," Shepard noted with a cautious glare. "More so than just the ordinary rivalry I hear you ODSTs have with them. Is this some kind of grudge?"

Silva laughed lightly at the suggestion.

"Please," he responded innocently. "I can't have a vendetta against a walking gun. That's all the Spartans are in the end, just guns that can talk now and then. Whatever humanity they had was beaten out of them when ONI snatched them up from their beds. No, my beef is with how the UNSC has gone about praising them, making them out to be legends and heroes. Let me tell you something, sir. A tank crew can be heroes, an admiral or general can be a legend, but a tank or a ship can't. It's just a piece of metal that does what you tell it to do. That's what Spartans are, tanks, not people. We shouldn't treat them like they are."

Shepard was a bit confused about Silva's statements. While what had happened to the Spartans had leaked out, specifics weren't entirely known. Not in that great detail. It suggested that the Major had become aware of the truth behind the Spartans at some point. It would explain some of his animosity.

"And how should we treat them?" Shepard asked, his voice sounding rather grated at the declaration.

"Like the failed bunch of sideshow freaks they are." Silva replied rather venomously. "They're practically extinct, Commander, and good riddance. That Master Chief you've been stuck with? He's no soldier, he's not even human. He's more like a robot than anything. Just because he has a few parts that are organic, doesn't mean he's a real person anymore. I'm kinda sorry that you have to rely on him to help you out. It's why I suggested ODSTs for the mission, we're still human and, like I said, that's what it's gonna take to win this war."

Shepard did his best to keep his face emotionless as possible. He didn't exactly like Silva's tone, nor did he like his dismissal of the Spartans. After working with Noble for so long and after all of the Chief's help earlier in the day, to say Shepard was in disagreement with Silva would be an understatement.

"Any particular reason you feel that way, Major?" Shepard asked. "From what I hear the Master Chief has pretty much earned his combat record."

"Because of technology and augmentation," Silva replied in a correcting tone. "I have nothing but respect for what he's been able to do... as a weapon. But that doesn't change who he is or what the Spartans are... or more accurately were. As for why I feel the way I do, well, that goes back to my stint as second lieutenant. Some dipshits in the Spartan program, the guys who made the Chief, they sent some of my men into the gymnasium. Their orders were to find a reason to get pissed off at, what was back then, a kid and teach him a lesson."

Not surprising to Shepard, everything he had heard about the Spartan program from Halsey, and from the Journal Tali had, suggested some pretty brutal training tactics. He had an idea, given the way Silva was speaking rather angrily about it, what had happened. The Major proved him right.

"The mission worked out perfectly, for the freak." Silva grumbled loudly. "He killed all of my guys, all of'em! Left them bleeding and dead on the ship gymnasium floor! Were there any repercussions? No! They patted him on the head and sent him off the showers. Did the freak even give a shit? No. Cause that's what he is, Commander, a robot. I don't know what you would call what happened in that gymnasium, sir, but I call it murder and the only reason the freak got away with it was because of that damn program."

"Or more likely self-defence," Shepard argued. "Receiving orders to beat up a fellow soldier sounds pretty illegal to me. Even if he was just a kid back then, he was still a commissioned member of the military. Your men could've refused."

"Does it matter?" Silva asked back rather angrily. "There wasn't even a hearing! They used my guys as fucking cannon fodder. Like the elites use their damn grunts!"

"I won't say you're wrong, Major," Shepard admitted calmly and astutely. "Your men and their families at the very least deserved some kind of compensation for what happened. They deserved better. But you shouldn't blame the Chief or the Spartans as a whole for it. If one of your guys had gotten jumped by a pack of Spartans, for whatever reason, would you fault him for fighting back?"

Silva didn't, or more likely couldn't, answer back. He just stood silent.

"I understand you don't feel as appreciated as you think you should be," Shepard told him sincerely. "For what it's worth, you taking this butte, setting up the defences, everything you've done here, you should be proud of it and you deserve praise for it. "

Silva seemed to brighten up a little at that, But Shepard wasn't done.

"But the fact is, letting the Chief and the other Spartans take part in these missions, it frees your guys up to do more," Shepard explained to him. "The same thing with my people, you should be grateful for the assistance, not angry because it looks like someone is taking your place. No one here denies what you've accomplished either, this isn't about that. Getting out of here is going to be a team effort and we all need to use every resource and person we have if we are going to survive. Try to remember that."

Silva sighed, and at that moment Shepard wondered if he had reached the Major. Eventually he looked back and responded.

"Well, just watch your back around him, Commander." Silva cautioned him. "Good luck on the mission."

Silva saluted quickly and left. Maybe he hadn't changed the Major's mind, but maybe he had just made things easier on Kat. As long as Silva thought about what he said, he probably wouldn't be as belligerent to her. Right now, Shepard needed to get back to finding the Master Chief. He himself had a few things on his mind as well thanks to Silva and he needed them sorted.

---

Arriving back aboard the Truth and Reconcilliation, Varvok had expected most of his troopers to be here. Instead he found only a few squads in stark contrast to what he had requested to be stationed aboard. He had initially thought they were simply delayed. Then one of his men informed him that was not the case. Enraged by the truth, Varvok stomped off to the Shipmaster. Lat 'Ravamee's quarters. He barged into the room as the automatic doors opened wide, furious indignation in his eyes. He found another Sangheili there with 'Ravamee, Orna 'Fulsamee. They were apparently going over some finer details about the defence plans, but Varvok didn't care at this point.

"You sent over half of my requested squads to some damn archaeology dig!" He shouted in anger.

"We lost contact with them. We needed to re-establish a link." Orna argued. "We felt your troops would be better used there."

"You have more than enough sangheili to do such a task!" Varvok shouted at him. "I need those men! Shepard will be here before too long! I told you we need to overwhelm him! Trap him inside an enclosed space!"

"We have more than enough forces already to do just that." Orna told him. "I doubt a few batarians will make much difference."

Varvok slammed his fists down on console that seperated him from the two sangheili and stared angrily at him.

"You have no idea who this human is!" He shouted. "None! I've been preparing these men to face him for a very long time! Ever since we found out he was still alive! Before then, I was training them to take on Spectres, just like him! Now, you're wasting valuable resources to deal with a radio problem!"

"That is how I saw fit to use them once they came aboard this ship." Ravamee replied calmly, with an undertone of viciousness. "As a warrior, you should be content to use what you have to accomplish your goal, not whining like a spoiled child who didn't get what they wanted."

"I'm going to tell the Supreme Commander about this outrage," Varvok growled back. "I'll see you taught a lesson for thinking you can order my men around! I'm in charge of them! Not you! Not the Covenant!"

But niehter Orna nor Lat were not deterred by the threat, they simply grinned broadly.

"Supreme Commander Thel 'Vadamee was the one who authorized my reassignment of your squads." Orna informed the batarian smugly. "I think you'll find no favour with him. As long as your Swords are affiliated with the Covenant, you will not presume to order us around. In your dimension, you have more clout given our reliance on you there. Here, on this ring, you are under our jurisdiction, our command and you will go where we tell you to. Be grateful we allowed as many of you to stay on to accomplish this holy task and that I saw fit to let you personally stay aboard rather than send you out on that... radio repair job as you called it."

Varvok, still angry but knowing now that he was out of his depth, pulled back from the console. Orna seemed pleased and turned away from him.

"Now get out, Lieutenant Commander," he ordered grimly. "We have far more important things to do than to deal with your unggoy-like bickering."

Varvok left, still fuming, still enraged by the actions of the Covenant, but he could say nothing. He had no choice but to leave. No choice but to accept Orna's authority and 'Vadamee's decision. The voices and warnings of Retz and Zek filled his head once more and his anger turned to a sense of shame.

He now wished he had some of that Ichor for himself.

---

The Chief's green box was the closest to the landing pad. He obviously picked out the spot to be ready to go at a moment's notice. You have to admire that kind of preparedness in a soldier, Shepard thought to himself. In the back of his mind, he wondered what the Spartan was doing. Part of him thought maybe he was getting a drink of water or a quick bit of sleep, but what Silva had said stuck with him a bit.

It wasn't that he thought the Major was right in calling the Spartans machines. It was just that, given what he knew of the Spartan program, it was hard to imagine them having much of a social life or private life. Did a Spartan II do anything besides think of war and fighting? Silva had a point, being stolen from your bed and trained to kill when you were fairly young, that had to affect you in some way. Kelly had suggested as much

He knocked on the side of the cube and waited for a reply before he went in.

"Enter," the gruff but calm voice of the Master Chief spoke.

Shepard entered and found the Spartan on his cot, filling up magazines for his assault rifle. He was still wearing his armour, helmet and all. When he saw Shepard had entered, he placed the magazine down and stood at attention.

"Commander," He greeted simply.

"At ease, Chief," he told him. "I'm just here to get a sense of where you're at before the mission goes down."

"I suppose that wouldn't hurt," Chief concluded. "There's nothing to really do now but wait for Tali'Zorah to get back with Cortana anyway."

Shepard leaned up against a nearby wall across from the Spartan. Chief sat back down and kept looking at the Commander.

"I know you stood up for us, but I hope you have no problem with me and my people tagging along on this," Shepard began in a familiar tone. "What with them being aliens and all. I'd like to ease those over if you do."

"I was trained initially to fight human insurrectionists," The Master Chief replied plainly. "It was only by chance I ended up fighting aliens. More importantly, hating the enemy was never really that important. It was more about stopping him. The fact most of your crew are aliens is irrelevant. They aren't the Covenant, that's what matters. They're friendly andthey're here to help. We need to do what we can to assist them and you in return."

Shepard just nodded at the simple practicality of the Spartan's reasoning. He supposed it fit the name his group was given.

"You take a lot of things in stride don't you?" Shepard asked rhetorically. "It's like you just deal with things as they occur. The Autumn getting boarded, the lifeboat crash, rescuing the survivors, working with aliens. I mean, you just flipped to each task pretty much on the spot. Nothing gets to you, does it?"

"Compartmentalization was the first psychological element we had to learn." Chief told him flatly. "You couldn't let things get too personal or too close. You didn't survive long if you did. You needed to keep moving and you needed to keep thinking."

"But you were part of a team," Shepard reminded him. "Surely you couldn't block it all out."

Chief nodded at that.

"We leaned on each other for support, best we could." He explained. "Every Spartan, before and after the procedure, was under me. However, I had to accept early on that they all could, and probably would, die. That is the nature of war. All I could hope for was that if it came to that, it would be a life spent rather than sacrificed, that a soldier died to give us another chance to win."

Shepard knew how that felt, more times he cared to remember. Part of his squad on Elysium, Kaidan on Virmire, the soldiers and people they couldn't save back on Reach. It all weighed pretty heavy on him and he had to compartmentalize it all as well.

"I'm guessing you already know a lot about the Spartan Program," Chief spoke up suddenly. "Considering your team once worked with Jorge and, from what I understand, you did know Doctor Halsey."

"She was the one that put us on course to finding the Autumn," Shepard admitted, not wanting to fully share the details. "Is that why you're being so open?"

"It's not much of a military secret anymore, Commander." Chief responded. "Hiding it now is redundant. Besides, your existence in the UNSC is almost as big a secret as well and almost as well kept at this point."

Shepard gave a laugh at that, it was true that they hadn't kept much of a low profile.

"Can you remember anything before you were inducted?" Shepard asked him with a slight hint of consideration as he spoke.

"Pieces," Chief replied plainly. "I have dreams at times in cryo-sleep. They're flashes of memories and a few blurry faces, but nothing really clear. In the end it doesn't matter, that life is gone and I barely remember enough of it to miss it."

"Well you made the most of it all at least." Shepard complimented. "You've done a lot of good from what I hear, you and your fellow Spartans."

Chief nodded and went to pick up his magazine to continue filling it.

"That's good of you to say, sir," He replied graciously. "I wish the others were here to hear it from you. They never got nearly as many compliments as they deserved; especially honest ones. Frankly, I'm surprised you don't have a problem working with a Spartan, given everything you must know."

"I'll admit I had reservations, but never with the Spartans personally." Shepard clarified for him. "I may have never been forced into the military like you, but I know what it's like to be labelled a 'super-human' if you will."

Chief looked up from his work and watched Shepard close his hand into a biotic fist.

"Kids in school were kinda suspicious of it at first, called me the Glowy Freak and Bluey Voodoo." He explained. "I got in trouble a few times for lashing back at them."

"For name calling?" Chief asked in interest.

"Nah, it was never anything that petty." Shepard clarified as he lowered his arm. "I didn't think it was worth fighting someone over a stupid name. Most of the time it was against the school yard bullies, a few dipshit older kids who didn't like the sudden influx of a few alien transfers. It was back when we were just integrating into the wider galactic community and already a few people in the Alliance military were shacking up with aliens, specifically Asari. They can have-"

"Children with any race through a genetic link through the nervous systems of both recipients," Chief suddenly interrupted. "Cortana gave me that Codex of yours to study on my way over."

So he wasn't just a blunt instrument like Silva suggested. Shepard took a bit of solace in that.

"Yeah, pretty much," he replied with a nod. "Anyway, kids made fun of asari kids that were going to the same schools on the stations I was, along with other kids with biotic gifts that were just emerging. Suffice to say, I made a deal about getting back at them. It landed me in the office one too many times, mainly because I didn't know my own strength."

"It happens," Chief concurred plainly.

"The point is I never cared much about someone's origins. If I did, I might as well have been calling myself names and punching myself for being a freak," Shepard explained as he pushed himself off the wall. "All I care about is getting as many people off this ring as we can."

"Agreed," Chief replied immediately.

Shepard watched him for a few more seconds, as he continued to fill his magazine with bullets. He was hesitant about asking his next question, mainly because it sounded like something personal.

"But I guess not everyone thinks like that," Shepard started again. "I get the impression Silva doesn't want you around."

"ODSTs rarely do, it doesn't affect anything." Chief assured him. "I'm completely focused on getting your crew and the Captain back, any Spartan worth his salt would feel the same."

"I'm sure you are, but this can't be anything new for you," Shepard said to him cautiously, not wanting to tread on a nerve. "Were the ODSTs hard on you in training?"

Chief looked up from his work and placed the magazine aside again.

"They needed someone to break us in. The ODSTs were the best choice." He explained. "They saw themselves as training their own replacements, even back then. They were more than eager to take every opportunity they had to rough us up or worse. My guess is they wanted us to see them as an enemy to overcome. And we did, time and time again."

"I bet you kinda enjoyed the payback though, huh?" Shepard asked.

"In a sense I enjoyed returning the favour for all the times they cracked the whip on my team," Chief admitted, sounding a bit ashamed. "I got over it though. I was still just a kid back then. Once you get older, it stops being so personal and just becomes a matter of life. When someone tries to attack you, hurt you, kill you, it's natural to rise up and strike back. Personal issues don't play into it anymore. You do what you have to. Killing or fighting isn't something you're supposed to enjoy, but you do it if it means the safety of yourself and others."

Shepard nodded in agreement. Tali was right, he did have a lot in common with him. Those words pretty much cemented what he felt earlier in the day, that he could trust this Spartan.

"You're a lot more talkative than when you were on mission," Shepard informed him with a smirk.

"It's nothing personal. I'm not used to much chit chat in a firefight, even among other Spartans." He explained. "If it doesn't relate to the task at hand we usually just refrain for speaking much. That and I'm more used to talking with other Spartans in general."

"You're talking with me now and I'm not a Spartan." Shepard informed him.

"That's because I've had to admit to myself that there are only three other Spartans around and only one I know personally," The Chief replied cleanly. "And since I have a feeling we're going to be stuck together, I'm going to have to get used to speaking to others a lot more."

It was a practical and somewhat sad way of looking at things. Shepard had hoped he could avoid the fact most of the Spartan IIs were probably dead now. It seemed that Chief wasn't able to avoid the subject himself. Again, Shepard had been there.

There was a brief silence between the two that was interrupted by another knock on the cube's door. Chief ushered the person in. It was Tali, omni-tool activated. She stepped back a bit when she spotted her Commander.

"Shepard, I didn't think you'd be here," She said rather surprised.

"I was just going over some things with the Master Chief before we headed out." He explained to her.

"Well I hope you're both ready," Tali informed them. "The sun is almost down and they're fuelling up the Pelicans outside."

Tali's omni-tool chimed once and she brought it up to her face. Cortana appeared, standing tall and formal.

"Holland just called for the Troopers and Marines that will be taking part in the mission." She updated them. "They're already gearing up and marshalling on the ready line as we speak."

"Then that's our cue." Chief said as he stood up from his cot.

The Spartan grabbed his assault rifle off the rack on the wall and slammed his magazine into the gun. Tali pulled Cortana's chip from her omni-tool and handed it back to him. He placed her in the back of his helmet and cocked the rifle.

"Well then," said Cortana's voice from the helmet's external speakers. "Let's pay the Truth and Reconciliation a visit then, shall we?"

---

AN: Quite a chapter for today, huh? At least we're back with the A-plot. I wanted to do some proper world and character building in this chapter, as well as hint to some larger things down the road. I wasn't able to do everything I wanted here. I was forced more or less to move scenes to the next chapter in order to keep the story flowing. At least it kept this chapter short... or short for me anyway.

The next two chapters will involve the third mission in the original Halo game as well as the raid on the Autumn from the novelisation. It's quite a bit to cover. I'm hoping it won't take all summer to get both chapters out. I'm crossing my fingers that I'll be able to get at least one of the next chapters done before the month is out. But, I can't exactly promise that as life tends to get in the way. Rest assured I'll be working on it whenever I can.

Please review and do remember to stop off and edit the TVTropes page, you can find the link on the profile page. I always enjoy reading both. Till next time.