The Marines were idle for the duration of the talks. Reaver had taken his platoon over to the barracks in hopes of being 'enlightened' to their new LT, since the data on her was slightly scarce. IF anything, most of them had a feeling that they were being tossed an ONI supervisor and the worst jobs this side of the Galaxy soon enough. Reaver himself sat at his bunk, just below Hitchcock's, fiddling with a tablet and trying to figure out who the new boss was. If she was so 'green', why in God's name was info on her so secretive? Fuck, they didn't even have her name.
The thunder of armored boots outside their door, however, brought all of them out of their silent thoughts. The soldiers stood up, with Reaver going to and opening the door. Sat at the door, taller by a head than him and encased in Titanium alloy plating colored the green of the Corps, a Spartan led his fireteam of four others. One number was plastered on his chest, in bold white.
117
Reaver, bearing the widest smile possible, snapped-to, bringing his hand up in salute to the Spartans and calling out "MASTER CHIEF PETTY OFFICER ONE-ONE-SEVEN, ON DECK!"
All of his Marines scrambled to their feet, saluting the man, the myth, the legend himself and his elite fireteam. The Master Chief saluted the Marines back and said, his voice rough, robotic, "At ease, Marines. We were heading for the bridge."
"Sir." Reaver beamed, a fanboy he was. The Chief's exploits in the war alongside Blue Team were legendary and here they all were, sitting before them in full armor, carrying weapons on their backs and ready to go at a moment's notice. He noticed a sixth member to the team. Sheila sat behind Spartan number 087, Shotgun on her back and a smile on her face.
The Chief nodded to the troopers, stepping off with his fireteam. Sheila only stopped to salute them, before walking away with the Blues. The Marines returned to their 'business as usual', sitting and awaiting for the ship to receive its departure orders and leave for the next Colony. Mike had taken to reading on his tablet again, looking for news and possible alerts regarding the Covenant or Innies.
Weiss approached his bunk, sitting herself down and saying, "Hey, Sarge." as she set her rifle aside.
"What's up, Weiss?" He raised a brow.
"Any luck with finding news about our LT?" The girl asked, "'cause I managed to find a bit of info about her coming, fresh outta West Point back on Earth."
"Well, if she's West Point, she may be good, but..." The Sergeant gestured broadly at the room of Marines that were part of his squad, both fresh recruits and the veterans, before saying "She can't unify the team behind her or gain approval, she ain't gonna do shit for us. She'll just be an extra gun in the pack here." before he sighed and set the tablet down. Staring up at the ceiling of their barracks, he leaned against one of the struts holding the top bunk up, listening to the door hiss and slide open beside him.
"Lieutenant on-deck!" Another Marine, closer to the door, called out. The entire team stood to their feet and formed up in front of the bunks. The team caught sight of a black-haired woman in her early 30s and hauling a duffel bag with her personal belongings. She was wearing the off-duty uniform, like the rest of them:a black, short-sleeved T-shirt with the letters 'UNSC' plastered on the chest in white, camouflage pants with multiple pockets and combat boots. The only way the Marines could tell she was a Lieutenant was by the fact one of the sleeves of her Dress Uniform was hanging out of the duffel and it had the rank pins on.
The soldiers stood at attention, saluting their new CO. She saluted back with her free hand, then called out in a smooth voice "At ease, everyone..." and approached the Sergeant. She turned to face him, then said "Sergeant Reaver. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Lieutenant Parisa Jones."
"Ma'am." He nodded.
"Don't worry, folks, I fought before I went to West Point. Boots on the ground and whatnot." She smiled, noticing some of the stares from the men, "You're not in the hands of a greenhorn fresh outta training. Command was kind enough to recommend me to Whiskey Papa because they saw some sorta promise in me... And if they gave me Lima-9, be damn sure I'll earn my place here."
Mike smirked, "Well, with your permission to speak freely, ma'am... We're fuckin' glad to hear it."
She smiled back, "Alright. At ease, back to what you were doing." And she walked toward her own bunk, "Not gonna bother anyone on their days off, especially after the shit I heard you pulled down below. Getting ETs on our side and all that."
"Heh." Mike smirked, "Alright, El-Tee."
"Welcome to Lima-9, ma'am. Head down, ass on the floor and shoot to kill." Hitchcock quipped, smiling.
"I'll keep that in mind." Parisa nodded, setting her stuff down on her bunk and sitting herself down.
A few hours later, the Marines sat at their bunks, with Parisa having gotten to know each member of the team through their habits and names, including the over-excited newbies. Sat at the table in the far back, Weiss was humming a cadence song as she disassembled her weapon and cleaned it again. Mike had fallen asleep with his boonie hat on his face and hands on his chest. Hitch was reading a magazine from the Corps standard issue, too, with Parisa sat on her bunk reading messages from her datapad.
Weiss started tapping her feet, scrubbing the rifle's barrel as she started singing in a whisper, "Baby, Rifle, don't you cry... Mama's gonna have you squeaky cleaned... Use the best oil that I can find... Make sure you're shinin' bright... And if your barrel's gonna bend and crack, mama's gonna make a new one,, gal... And if your scope is outta line, mama's gonna sight it in just right."
A few hours passed between talks and training sessions, where the Marines had been to mess, had eaten and showered and returned to the armory to check their gear. Along the way, multiple transport craft, ranging from Eldar drop ships to their own Pelicans, had flown to and fro, between the planet, ship and Eldar fleet. Before long, Reaver caught a glimpse through a window of about a dozen Eldar ships, followed by thirty UNSC ones, moving away at best speed.
Huh. The rest of the joint Fleet also mobilized, with Faen coming down the hall, her pet space cat at her side. She seemed rather pleased with herself, bearing a proud smile as she marched toward the Sergeant. She nodded to him, then said "I have arranged for a joint assault. Our fleets are about to engage the Covenant's own remnants now... Wipe them out."
"That's gonna be a nice wake-up for the bastards." Parisa noted, approaching the Sergeant and the Farseer. She saluted the woman, then said jovially "I'm Lieutenant Parisa."
"Ah. You lead the Sergeant's squad now?" The Seer raised a brow, getting a nod as an answer. The Farseer nodded back, then said "This unit has been a boon for our peoples, Lieutenant. If UNSC High Command assigned you to them, I trust you are capable." then she turned to Reaver and tilted her head toward the left. The two walked off to another part of the hall, farther away from the Marines and out of earshot, with Reaver looking completely confused.
Parisa hummed "Well, the reports weren't wrong. That's an Elf."
"Think we were kiddin', El-Tee?" Hitchcock grinned
"No. I just... It's weird, y'know? Semi-humanoid aliens that wanna help us and they wind up being something straight out of one of those six centuries' old Tolkien books." She shrugged, then hummed and watched the Sergeant nodding to her. A slight acceleration rumbled across the ship. It had started moving out. Going by the looks of the windows outside, so had the rest of the fleet. The hundreds of Eldar and human ships moved together toward the exit point from the system, while the small task force they'd left behind went on to hunt the enemy fleet.
The Farseer and the Sergeant returned to the squad, with the Farseer noting "The admiralty mentioned we shall be returning to the fortress world of Reach. From there, the Craftworld will leave with a small escorting fleet toward your homeworld, Earth, while the rest of our soldiers engage in battle with the Covenant. It should be interesting to see how mankind's inner workings are."
Parisa nodded, "Man, after I just left the Core Worlds." And she chuckled, "I think you're gonna like Reach, Farseer. It's one of our most defended places, second only to Earth herself."
"Hmm. Very interesting." The Farseer nodded, "I require a room. I intend to inform the council of my desire to stay aboard this ship for the time being."
Parisa nodded, "Follow me, ma'am." and she motioned forward. The Marines provided escort for the woman to the VIP rooms. Once safely delivering her there, they returned to their bunks. The next few hours saw the soldiers going to sleep while the ships entered Slipspace and the Webway, specifically. The Eldar had slowed their travel to match the UNSC ships' own speed, so it would take a few weeks to almost two months of travel to Reach itself. When she'd heard that, Faen thought they were exaggerating, but... Human FTL.
"... You believe we should share our Webway technology with them?!" The High Warlock seemed just as shocked as before. Thankfully, communication through psychic lanes worked well enough, even in Slipstream Space... The woman rolled her eyes, then nodded as she watched the apparition of the High Council's chambers flicker around her. Psionics worked, but to a limited degree, since they were on two separate planes of reality, currently.
"Trust is built on sharing, currently. Allowing them to utilize the Webway as it is in this Galaxy would provide a major boon to both us and them. You are currently travelling at a snail's pace through it to keep up with us, are you not?" She spoke, arranging her collar. She was an open, progressive mind, it seemed. Of course, the Warlock would be opposed.
"... Yes, Farseer, but..." He sighed.
"Believe me, I look upon sharing this with disdain whenever the idea comes to mind, High Warlock... But allowing them to utilize it means allowing the passage to their worlds to speed up. To that degree, I also fully understand the possible threats this can start, but believe me..." She paused, looking to see the Warlock's anger slowly disappear. He slowly relented, she could feel it...
"The gains outweigh any risks, as before?" He noted, "I shall... Consult with our people, Farseer. I cannot promise anything, but alas..."
"Thank you for considering..." She nodded.
"Do not thank me yet." He noted, then sighed "Farewell and safe travels."
"To you as well, High Warlock." The woman responded calmly, finally feeling her rapid heartbeat. She willed it to slow, standing up as the connection severed and she found herself, yet again, in the drab, steel-colored room of the UNSC warship. She stared at the disabled screen ahead of her, before looking out through the window at the whirling blue maelstrom through which they travelled with all the speed of a snail during its sleep cycle.
She sat herself down on the bed, setting her spear aside and looking at the sleeping Gyrinx to her side. She pet the creature, garnering a purr out of her and smiling to herself as Andúnë curled up into a ball, head facing toward the 'Seer. She seemed eerily calm for what she had felt before. Still, it was good to have some manner of creature familiar to her people here.
A knock on the door took her attention away from the scritch session. She stood up, walking to and opening the door, to find Reaver in his PT gear. He looked past her, to see the sleeping 'spess ket' as he had jokingly referred to Andúnë via text. He smiled broadly at the Farseer, then quipped in whisper "I never took ya for a cat person, Faen. Anyways, what was it ya wanted to talk about?"
She rolled her eyes, then showed him to enter. Closing the door behind him, she motioned to the chair near the window and sat herself down on her bed, turning back to petting the cat. Reaver sat down too, leaning his chin on his hand and smiling as he watched the little bonding sesh between the Elf and the Cat with a smile on his face as a really dumb, dirty joke entered his brain. She looked to him, then said "I felt that..." with a glare that could(quite literally, if he remembered correctly) kill tanks.
"What?" He raised a brow and his hands, the latter in defense.
She shook her head and scoffed, "Humans."
"Hey, c'mon, it was a harmless joke. And I didn't even say it." The soldier defended himself and chuckling, "Anyways... What's up?"
The woman looked to him, then said "Reach... What can you tell me about it?"
He shrugged, "Not a lot. It's the center of the UNSC's military power and command structure. HIGHCOM is located there, as is one of the biggest military academies the UNSC has. Add to that several bases and some of those ODPs that I heard they're building hundreds of over Earth and you've got the impregnable Fortress that is the doorstep of Earth. It's also home to ONI's many section bases..." And he shuddered, "I don't wanna know anything they do in there."
"Ah..." She hummed, then looked to him and asked "Does that mean colonel Ackerson has his base of operations there?"
"Last I heard, yeah." Mike nodded, "Gonna be fun seeing the place, I guess..."
"Ever been stationed there?" She asked
"Oh, no, the UNSC needs all hands on deck. The only folk stationed in the core area of the UEG's territories are the people who're either out of action for healing, off-duty, on-duty but assigned guard job or just there because of some form of nepotism or other. All us footsloggers are always gonna be near the Front." The Marine explained, leaning back into the chair calmly.
"Hum." She nodded, "I see..."
"Okay, my turn." He smirked, despite the Farseer's dour face, "I really feel like I oughta ask this one. What didja do before the whole Farseer biz? Is there like... A preschool thing for you folks or did you actually have a normal life beforehand, doing... I dunno, whatever Eldar folks do when they're not kicking around, helping species like ours stave off extinction."
Faen's shoulders sagged, but a melancholic smile grew on her face as she remembered it. She looked to the purring cat, then answered "I used to be a farmer, helping my family in sowing the artificial, nutrient-rich soils of our Craftworld for the harvests. Heh, I still have vivid memories of my life in the village." with a jovial tone, "The smell of freshly-baked food, the bread that mother always managed to slightly char, father almost throwing his back to plow the fields... Simpler times." Then she gasped, realizing that she had told a human of her past because of the distraction her cat had brought. She looked to see him smiling again... But it was not his usual cocky know-it-all, suicidal human smile. It was joy tinged with sadness. A sadness so deep she felt it from there.
She narrowed her lips, then asked out of kindness, "What of you? I know humans are very martial, but..."
He chuckled, "Heh. I wasn't born with an MA5 in my hands and a thousand yard stare, no. I'd... Love to tell you about it, but I'm not feeling alright right now." And he stood up. She seemed to have struck a nerve by mistake. She wanted to apologize, but he beat her to it in saying "It's alright, don't worry. I'll be fine in a bit. Hey, thanks for telling me about the whole farming thing, by the way... Don't worry, I won't spill the beans to my comrades."
"Ah... Thank you... But are you certain you are okay?" She asked, standing up. The cat's head perked up as well, feeling the distress in both her master and the human and she stood up, pit-patting toward him. She leaned her kitten head against his leg and purred, curling around his ankle like a normal cat would. He chuckled, then leaned down and scratched it behind the ears, garnering a purr of joy and a little smile from Faen as she felt her little creature's joy.
He looked back, smiling still, then he nodded, "I'll be alright. Be seeing ya in the mess tomorrow." before stepping off. The door shut behind him and Andúnë looked to the Farseer. A slight conflict appeared in her mind, a cloud of doubt about him. She'd felt his mind shield itself from any further prying, any further questions she wanted answered. And it came like a wall, a surprise out of nowhere, the moment she mentioned of home.
She sighed, sitting herself down as Andúnë jumped back up and meowed, pushing her head under her master's/bondmate's hand. She picked the cat up, set her on her lap and held her close. Faen had felt one other thing when she'd probed him. It was a combination of sorrow and anger one would only usually find in the most veteran of the Eldar's forces, when they opened up. Something awful must've happened...
She wouldn't pry, for now. Yet she felt a sense of kinship with him, now more than ever.
Kinship with a Human... How times change...