Mhm, it's been a while. Again, writing a (please don't be mad) rather short chapter. I promise that the next one will be longer and when we finally get to the Halo Reach missions, those'll definitely be long. And I understand that you (like, the eight people who read this) want the chapters to be lengthy (especially that pyromaniac with the shotgun, frightening combination) but there's only so much I can put into a chapter without driving myself insane. I too, prefer it when chapters in my favorite stories are long and I don't like it when I write a short chapter.

Now if you want length, you guys should look into my Battlefield 3 Novelization/Continuation. The first god damn chapter is almost seven-thousand words!

Anyways, I'll be uploading the first chapter to that story (I think I'll call it "Saviors") a bit after I upload this. And I promise that I'll try and get the next chapter for this story up. Dual-writing stories, who woulda thunk? And geez, I hope I'm getting this therapy stuff right, because honestly it doesn't seem right.

Chapter Twelve: The Kill of Century

December 4, 2551 08:00 Hours

UNSC Special Operation Headquarters

Grey and Erick were sitting together in front of Samson's desk. They had both been called by Samson earlier for that assignment he had told Grey of. A squad of troopers was also in the room, standing behind the pair.

Samson entered the office, looking a bit excited.

"Gentlemen, this is going to be the big one. You two are going to be dealing a heavy blow against the rebels' command structure. As you know, rebel activity has decreased greatly, especially with the loss of ten of their most prominent leaders thanks to the lieutenant and his methods."Grey noticed that Erick gave him a disapproving glance. Erick had stated before that the rebel threat had to be wiped out or they would never stop, but there was no need to be so brutal, even if it was just the orders of Samson.

'They may be our enemies, but they're still people.' He would say. And Grey would nod and say he understood when he was really ignoring Erick. Grey liked Erick but didn't like it when Erick would tell him how to do his job.

Samson handed everyone a file. "In there you'll find HVT Two; Morton Matthews, the second in command of all rebel forces remaining on Mamore. And he's in the Beehive."

Grey had heard of the Beehive. A ridiculous name given to an underground system of large tunnels leading to great halls dug by the rebels- a city built inside a mountain. This was relatively the only remaining rebel strongpoint left on Mamore thanks to Grey, and more than once Grey had asked permission to go in and eliminate it. Samson had denied him each time, saying that it was going to be too dangerous even for him.

"So what's the plan, sir?" someone asked.

"The plan is to have the lieutenant and the quartermaster infiltrate the base, disguised as rebels and attend the rally, meeting or whatever they call it in the center of the complex. They are then to track and eliminate HVT Two, and then they'll radio the squad to initiate a decoy attack to give them some cover to escape."

"You want us to go in without armor?" Grey asked. Samson chuckled.

"I know Grey, it sounds a bit risky. But I know you can pull it off. Just stick with Erick, he'll show you how to blend in with his old crowd." Erick smiled and nodded. "Do we all have a firm idea on the plan?"

"Yes sir." Everyone responded.

"Good. Infiltration team's callsign is 'Dagger'; decoy team's callsign is 'Rapier'. Erick and Grey, head to the armory and stock up- you'll find the clothing for you disguises there as well."

Grey had decided to leave his assault rifle for this operation, as he could only conceal his automag and SMG in the coat he was wearing. Both Grey and Erick were now wearing dirty, somewhat raggedy clothing. It was uncomfortable, especially since Grey had to wear someone else's boots that barely fit.

Erick had taken a little dirt and smudged on their faces to complete the look.

"Just stick with Erick, he'll show you how to blend in with his old crowd…" Erick grumbled, mimicking Samson's voice. "What an asshole." Erick didn't like being reminded of his time with the rebels.

"He didn't mean it."

"You bet your ass he did! Samson's never liked the fact that I was with them; but I'm a 'valuable military asset' so he keeps me around." Erick growled and pointed at Grey. "Listen, anything that son of a bitch about us, whether he likes us or not, it's a lie. He only sees everyone and everything under his command as a military asset and will do anything to morph them into killing machines to do his bidding and fulfill his revenge!"

Grey stared at Erick for a moment. Erick was actually angry, something that he had never seen before. It was a rare sight, and Erick wouldn't just explode for no reason.

But Grey, despite his feelings, had felt that he actually belonged here. He was making a difference, for a change. Against the Covenant there had been no victories in the end. Here, the rebels were deteriorating away here.

"Do you really think that?"

"You should too; he told you about his daughter, didn't he? This isn't an operation, just some old man turning humans on humans because he's so bent on revenge. He doesn't care what happens to us, doesn't care that we get hurt, that we get changed, just as long as we bring results."

Grey remembered what Samson said the day before. He hadn't really thought that this whole thing was out of revenge. It couldn't be- Samson was backed by military orders. He had to be.

Erick had said that Samson didn't care if people were changed before of it.

Had Grey changed because of the path he was following? Had he changed because of Samson?

"I'll be back." Grey said quickly and with a brisk pace headed off to Norman's office.

Grey entered the clinic and closed the door quickly. Norman looked up as he finished reapplying some bandages to his forearm.

"Grey? What're you doing here; I thought you were prepping for a mission."

"Erick just went on a rant, and he said that Samson is only here to avenge his lost daughter. That's true right?" Norman sighed.

"Sadly, yes. That's why he's here at least."

"Erick said that Samson doesn't give a damn if he the men under his command become changed because of the orders he gives and making them kill fellow humans." Grey stared at Norman for a moment, who looked back, his eyes widening a bit. "Have I changed?"

"You know the answer to that."

"But who changed me? Was it actually me, or was it Samson and his god damn lessons, orders and missions?" Norman crossed his arms.

"You're not going to like the answer, I think."

"Tell me."

"I'm surprised you didn't figure it out yourself, you're a smart…"

"Just tell me!" the shout was so loud and fierce that it made Norman jump. Grey felt bad for doing so but held his ground, his fists clenched so tightly that they were shaking. He had let his emotions go, and the anger had resurfaced.

"It's both of you actually. You wanted to change, and you let Samson do so." Grey was silent for a moment. "You see, it's what I've figured out. Greyson, I've realized through our talks and what you've been through, you obviously blame yourself for everything that happened on Piltran. I should have seen that it wasn't just blame; you hate yourself Greyson. For letting the team down, for letting your love die, for losing the purpose you once had. You didn't want to be that person anymore; you wanted to erase everything so you could possibly escape it all. So you were willing enough when Samson took you in. Samson is like you and me, filled with pain from a major loss, except he chose a different route- revenge. And with his methods, feelings and lessons, he turned you into the hyper-lethal killer you are today so he could dish out the payback, which I'm sure he's told you."

Grey had sat down, clasping his hands together as Norman talked. Norman had moved over and sat down beside him on the medical table. "You let him change you, and you've known this entire time…just didn't want to admit it…"

"He chose revenge…I chose change…what did you choose Norman?"

"I lost my entire family to the war. I couldn't live with it, so I tried to commit suicide. Three times I tried. First I tried slicing my wrists open, but they found me and stitched me up. Second time I tried to blow my brains out and got caught. Third time, I was drunk and decided to try and incinerate myself behind a ship as it took off." Norman chuckled, holding his arms up. "Somehow I survived that, but not without my entire body being deforming by flame."

Norman sighed sadly. "I gave up. It seemed like…whatever lives up there in the sky…wasn't going to let me die. So I decided to go on and continue patching up the troops. That's the thing Grey, with all of these paths there always time for us to leave it; let things go, keep living, go back to what you once were." Norman put a hand on Grey's shoulder. "Grey, you keep going on like this, letting yourself change, you're going to…"

Grey felt a surge of anger and stood up, slapping Norman's hand away.

"I haven't changed." He said. "I think this is all bullshit."

"Grey…" Norman stood up.

"No, I'm not listening to this anymore. I haven't changed. I don't blame myself." Grey had no idea why he was yelling, trying not to listen to Norman. Was it because he knew Norman was right and he didn't want to believe? That he had been trying to change and he had become as cold as his armor? That he was nothing but a killer? Grey didn't want to believe any of it.

Grey left the clinic, leaving Norman. Norman stood there, alone. He felt sad and hurt. A few tears trickled from his eyes and stained his bandages.

Seemed kinda rushed, didn't it? Sorry about that. The next one will be better! And I know, at the end of the last chapter I said that this one was going to be longer. Well I changed my mind, as I want this to introduce that chapter (which'll be the next one) and also tell you guys about that Battlefield 3 story.

Anyways, spank you for reading. I mean, thank you for reading.