XII
The troops arrived back onboard the Hercules, just a few hours after their deployment. To date, it had been the quickest mission that they had participated in. Although their ship had arrived late to the fight, the colony of Lacerta fell rapidly to the Covenant forces, and forced the Hercules along with other ships of the fleet to quickly coordinate a Slipspace jump out of the area.
"Back into the fucking void," Amy commented as they filed along in the queue within the armoury, handing in their ammunition and weapons. "That was a close fucking call at the end of it, but definitely more exciting than the next leg of Slipspace will be, that's for sure. Where the fuck are we even going?"
"It's probably on to a need-to-know basis," Natalie replied, handing off her assault rifle and pistol to the weapons techs. "When we need to know, we'll know. Likely when the Covenant find another colony."
"Which could be days, or months. Gotta love the uncertainty. Hurry up and wait, as they say."
"We'll make a supply stop somewhere, likely," Carter piped up from behind Natalie. "It's been a while since our last one. The cooks have been using powdered eggs for breakfast for a few weeks now. Most of our fresh food is gone."
"That would mean we'd dock somewhere, maybe have a day's leave?" Excitement filled Natalie's face.
"Or, a supply ship could rendezvous with us and we wouldn't fucking go anywhere," Amy smiled sarcastically back at her. They handed in the last of their ammo and filed out of the armoury, heading towards the elevator to go back to their quarters. "I don't know why you still hope for leave. It's been months since I've seen my last leave pass. The war is only getting worse."
"It still fucking exists, even with the war– and it's recommended. Troops need breaks from this shit – or else it fucks with your head."
"I'm already fucked in the head," Amy met Natalie's eyes. "Today's wonderful sight didn't help matters."
The pile of bodies. Natalie could picture it clearly in her mind. Just the thought made a chill run down her spine.
"Bad choice of words, perhaps. Forgive me."
"If you ask me, leave isn't that good of a thing. Everyone just goes out and blows credit on booze, drugs and strippers and wind up fucking random civvy sluts attracted to the uniform. We try to drink, smoke and fuck away our problems, just like we do here, although it's a fucking thousand times worse."
"You're just fucking sour because you're engaged and promised your fiancé that you'd behave yourself."
"Fuck off, no." They had arrived at their room. Amy slapped the button and the door hissed open. Her cheeks were beginning to turn red.
"Fuck off, yes. Spare me the bullshit, Amy. If you were single you'd be doing all that shit you talk about so disdainfully."
"I would, but I'm not. What's your fucking point?" Amy questioned.
Natalie heaved a sigh, shrugging out of her tac vest and hanging it on her locker door. Amy was almost always irritable following a mission, especially if it had been less than successful.
"Never mind."
"I've had a rough day, Natalie." Amy tossed aside her own tac vest. "Just fuck off."
"And I haven't?"
"No, you have, too. We're both getting charged, both saw a lot of dead people, I thought you were dead for about five minutes…" Amy looked thoughtful. "But, unlike you, I can't go blow off steam by swilling whisky and getting my brains fucked out."
"You can go to the gym." Natalie shrugged, sitting on her bed. She pulled off her tunic, then began unlacing her boots. "Honestly, that's probably a healthier coping mechanism."
"Then come with me, slut. I feel like I've hardly seen you lately."
"We share a room."
"And you're rarely in it."
Natalie sighed, pulling off her boots and setting them just underneath her bed. They were rather muddy, she noted. That'd give her something to do later on. Undoing her belt, Natalie shimmied out of her trousers, and lay back on the bed in just her t-shirt and underwear.
"I'm fucking exhausted."
"I don't mean right this fucking second. Let's go later. Promise me."
"Fine." Natalie sighed again. She draped her arm across her face, shielding out the light. She had just closed her eyes when a voice came over the intercom.
"Private Klein, 1st Platoon, Alpha Company please report to room delta seven zero niner."
Natalie groaned, letting her arm fall from her eyes. She slammed her fist down on the mattress.
"Fuck me."
From her bunk, Amy snorted.
"Don't laugh, bitch." Natalie sat up, reaching for the uniform she'd just taken off. "You're probably next."
She redressed as quickly as she could, left the room and consulted the ship's map by the elevators to locate where she needed to be. The specific room was fairly close to the bridge. Offices, she imagined, or conference rooms – somewhere nice selected by Myles himself to conduct her charge parade interview with himself and the company commander.
It didn't take her long to make her way there. When she found the correct room number, she paused for a moment, listening for any voices inside. She heard none. Letting out a sigh, she hit the buzzer.
"Come in." A female voice.
Natalie raised a brow, but walked in. It was a rather small room with a desk, a laptop and a couple of chairs. A middle-aged woman with dark hair was seated at the desk, wearing a long-sleeved burgundy sweater and black leggings. A white lab coat was draped over her chair. Upon seeing her enter, a tight-lipped smile appeared on her face.
"Hello Natalie. I'm Doctor Catherine Halsey."
"Doctor," Natalie said with a nod. It was strange that she used her first name – all other doctors she had dealt with used rank and surname as per usual protocol. Why would a doctor want to see her? Oh. Right. "If this is about me participating in the mission while still on medical chit, I ca-"
"Don't worry. I'm not that kind of doctor." Halsey's voice was calm, smooth. She gestured to one of the empty seats in front of her desk. "Please."
"What kind of a doctor are you, then?" Confusion spread across Natalie's face. She hesitantly perched herself on the edge of the chair.
"I'm a civilian scientist, although I do work primarily with the UNSC. My most notable project is the Spartan II program." Upon saying the word Spartan, Halsey watched Natalie's expression change instantly to one of discomfort.
"Ah." Natalie gave a little laugh. She broke eye contact to pick at the frayed faux leather on the armchair. "I've heard quite a bit about the Spartans. We all have. They're quite the soldiers."
"You must be aware that there is one on this ship." Halsey decided to play her – see how much she would be willing to give up.
"Yes," Natalie met the Doctor's eyes. "Master Chief."
"Indeed. John 117. I understand that you have developed an intimate friendship with him."
At this, Natalie laughed.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Halsey stared at her for a moment. The girl was a good liar. Her face portrayed nothing aside from honest confusion. Letting out a little sigh, Halsey tapped the screen of her laptop. In a second, an image was projected to the holographic panel on the wall. It was a screenshot from the video logs: showing Natalie and John in the middle of a kiss.
Upon seeing this, Natalie's face blanched.
"What the fuck!?" She exclaimed. "Why do you have this? Delete it. Now!"
"Not until you start being honest with me, Natalie. You have nothing to fear."
"Don't I?"
"I just want to know the extent of your relationship with John. He has mentioned you to me on a couple of occasions and has expressed that you have been very kind to him. However, my concern was raised when he was late for reveille the day of the deployment to Lacerta. It caused me to investigate. His behaviour was completely out of character."
"I'm already set to be charged with AWOL for that incident, so if you would like to add to that charge for impeding your Spartan, you can speak to Lieutenant Coddington. I'm sure he'd be happy to oblige you."
"As I said, you have nothing to fear. I didn't bring you here to charge you."
"No, just interrogate me." Natalie quipped.
"I don't think you quite understand the situation. I want to be clear as to what happened between you and John."
"Why? Why is that any of your business?"
"It's my business because John is one of my Spartans and I need to be aware of any personal issues that could potentially cause him to have his mind on anything other than what it needs to be focused on – and that is this war."
"We got drunk; we had sex," Natalie shrugged. "And we haven't really said much to one another since. Oh, and I am on contraceptives and have been since I was sixteen. I don't think you have anything to worry about."
"John cares about you. To what extent, I do not know, but it has been apparent since the first time he mentioned you that you mean something to him. I just do not want to see that fractured by the confusion that arises once a relationship becomes intimate. I doubt that John knows how to fully comprehend what happened between you two, especially if his mind was impeded by alcohol. What I guess I am trying to say is, you were kind to assume from the start that John was just like one of the Marines, to treat him like one of your own in an attempt to make him feel welcome - but you assumed too quickly. My Spartans aren't versed in creating emotional relationships with anyone outside of their own kind, and even then, they wouldn't be equivalent to the emotional relationships that say, you and I are capable of having. Spartans weren't made to feel. They weren't made to love. They were made to fight – and that is all that they have known since they were children. But just because they weren't made to do those things, doesn't mean that they can't happen. You have clearly proven that."
"It was just drunken sex. I don't remember a lot of it, if you want the honest truth. He didn't know what he was doing. And, I didn't care much at the time…" Natalie rolled up her sleeve of her uniform, showing Halsey her forearm. Although they had faded to greenish-yellow, the bruises were clear. "But he's got quite the grip."
Natalie expected the Doctor's face to show surprise, but her expression remained mostly unchanged. She simply glanced over the bruises, then met her eyes.
"Yes. He could have killed you. Purely by accident, of course, but what would that have mattered?" Halsey leaned back in her chair. "This is where my concern arises. I do not think it is a good idea that you continue with this… whatever it is. At least if John is drinking. Frankly, his behaviour could be unpredictable. Alcohol can change people, as I am sure you are aware. It is a depressant. And next time, he could forget that he could easily break your bones like a toothpick. No one would want that."
"No." Natalie said, pausing thoughtfully. "He told me about the incident with the ODSTs."
Halsey looked surprised for a moment.
"Well then. You can understand how impertinent it is that John avoids any potential situations that could result in further incidents of that nature."
Natalie nodded.
"Understood."
"Thank you." Halsey looked to the laptop, and with a swipe of her finger, deleted the picture. "And I mean it. Thank you for being kind to John – the drunken incident aside."
Nodding again, Natalie dropped her gaze to the desk, a thoughtful expression crossing her features.
"Personal connections are what have gotten me through this war so far," she confessed. "Friendships or otherwise. It's something positive to focus on. I don't know much about the Spartan program aside from what you and John have told me, but it sounds like a rough life. If I'm helping John focus on something positive, I'm doing him a favour – and that's the least I can do for anyone. He might not be a Marine, but we're all fighting the same enemy. He's saved my life twice so far – and for that I owe him a great debt. Any way that I can be there for him, I will. I promise."
Natalie came to a stop outside of John's quarters. She paused for a moment, listening. From within, she could hear movement. A part of her was hoping he would be out. Taking a deep breath, she went to hit the buzzer – but instead, heard a voice from inside:
"The door is unlocked."
So much for her attempts at being stealthy. She inched forward, activating the motion sensor. The door hissed open.
John was seated on his bed, wearing nothing but a t shirt and boxers. He was examining his feet, which were swollen and bruised. His face flashed signs of a grimace, but when he looked up, meeting her eyes, it disappeared.
"Hey," Natalie said quietly. She stepped in the room far enough so the door closed behind her. "I um… just wanted to check on you, make sure you're okay." When the words came out of her mouth, she realized how stupid they sounded.
John gave a nod.
"I'm fine."
"Your feet look fucking awful. Are they sore?"
"They'll heal." John was short, his tone curt. He glanced down at his feet, then back up at her. Silent seconds ticked by. His eyes were locked on hers, unblinking. His face portrayed nothing.
She wanted to look away, but couldn't.
"How about you?" He said at last. "Are you okay?"
Natalie nodded. Should she tell him about her conversation with Dr. Halsey? Not yet. Something else needed to be addressed first – the other night. Given their frantic rush in the morning, they had no time to speak about it.
"Listen, John." She moved forward and sat down on the bed next to him, staring at her lap. "I apologize for what happened between us last night. It was my fault that we were late for reveille."
"What was last night?" he asked.
"I don't know." She met his eyes. "What do you want it to be? A drunk mistake? I'm fine with that if you are. Look, I understand that you never were with someone… in that way. I guess I just assumed otherwise."
"It wasn't a mistake. I don't make mistakes. I don't think it was a mistake for you, either. It seemed pretty clear you knew what you were doing and that you wanted to do so."
At this, Natalie felt her cheeks grow warm. She let out a little laugh.
"Sex is a vice, just like alcohol and cigarettes. It's all pleasurable. It's a distraction. A good distraction. Even if it's the three minutes that you're smoking a dart… it's three minutes that you can try to reroute your brain from thinking about how fucked up things are. Last night, yes, I was drunk but I was happy. When you and I were together here, I didn't think about the war, or death, or the Covenant. Not once. It was nice."
John realized she was right.
"Same." He finally agreed. "It's strange. The war is always on my mind, because it's what I do… but… no. No. I didn't think about it last night."
"Good." A small smile appeared on her lips. "It's hard not to. Images get stuck in your head. Stuff you never thought you'd see."
"Like today."
"Yeah." He watched Natalie's expression darken. She bit her lip, staring at the floor. "I could do to forget that."
"Me too."
Their eyes locked. Natalie inched her face closer to his, hesitantly. Would he respond differently, she wondered? However, John closed the space and their lips touched gently, lingering for a moment.
"You're okay?" Natalie murmured against his lips.
"Yes."
She kissed him again, deeper this time. He responded positively, pulling her closer to him. His hand slipped around her back, and he guided her down onto the mattress. Natalie could feel his erection, hard against her thigh. Smiling against his kiss, she reached for his shirt, pulling it up over his head and tossing it to the floor. Piece by piece, their garments were discarded. The more naked they got, the lighter they felt, as if each piece of clothing carried the weight of their stress, their fears, the memories they'd rather not remember. It was peaceful, euphoric. The smoothness of his skin against hers, the firmness of him within her, his wet lips on her neck.
"I could get used to this." It was out of her mouth before she could think twice, barely a whisper, laced with pleasure. For a moment, he stopped, and Natalie's breath caught in her throat. Why did I say that? She met his eyes, and at once saw more emotion on his face than she ever thought possible.
"So could I."
And for just a little while – they were lost in their own paradise.
