Chapter 2 – Disputatio
May 21st, 2545 (12:41 Hours – Military Calendar)
Epsilon Eridani System, Reach
Viery Territory, Eposz
En Route to New Alexandria
:********:
The flight to New Alexandria was a short trip of just several hours. It was nothing, Duncan thought, compared to days-long trips with the Reach QRF. Almost everything in the last two years involved jumping from system to system or dropping into an atmosphere. The sole exception he could think of was the very first time he came to the city. The then-existent 1st platoon was transporting the UEG's Representative Adrien Nemeth to the arm's deal at the High Octavia. He distinctly remembered how that trip hadn't ended so well for a few thousand of New Alexandria's denizens. Today he was tense, feeling like he was going from the site of one massive explosion to the next as the civilian starship began its descent through the clouds.
He spent the better part of yesterday trying to convince himself over whether he could convince Erica to let him come here, and if he was right for it. He then spent the better part of ten seconds actually getting Erica to go along with it. If anything, she convinced him that it was a good idea rather than vice versa. Her eyes lit up as he told her he'd gotten hold of O'Reilly and wanted to hang out in person in New Alexandria. She immediately told him he should go for it, that she would wait here with Noah while the two of them got caught up.
"Just don't get crazy out there." She warned jokingly as she sat on the bed in their room. "I'd rather that you two didn't end up getting arrested for some attempt to recreate a frat party."
"Yes mam, will do mam." He said snidely, earning a look of suspicion from her that he promptly laughed off. "No worries, I'll keep us out of trouble."
"You better. Oh, and ask him about how he's been doing with his Bulgarian girlfriend. Don't tell him I asked you to ask him though, okay?"
"Wait, that slipped my mind completely. How'd you even remember that?"
She grinned, tapping a finger on her forehead. "There's some details women don't forget. You'd be wise to remember that, 'kay, hun?"
He laughed that off with her as well, though just a bit more nervously. She had a memory like a steel trap when it came to things that interested her, so he made sure to aim to keep this meetup civil. The last thing he needed was her reminding him about said meetup years down the line in case things got out of hand.
That night he packed a few things. In the morning, he kissed her and Noah goodbye before crossing over the tarmac of the local starport with a small backpack. He was the last to step inside the hanger bay of the civilian ship that was parked there minutes before it took off.
Spending the next several hours in the middlemost-rows of the passenger section among a few dozen other ODSTs, many with their own families, he used the time to stare out his window. Far below were the expansive pastures, forests, farmlands and grasslands of Viery's western coast. He couldn't help realizing how beautiful it actually was. More often nowadays he caught himself looking out at places he'd already seen and enjoying the view. After witnessing two planets getting glassed, he was learning how to better appreciate what was in front of him.
It was a sunny day at the heart of Reach's version of spring. Soon the ship was knifing its way through the clouds to descend into the city's airspace.
New Alexandria hadn't changed much since the last time he'd visited. The vast numbers of towering, white and predominantly rectangular skyscrapers remained standing save for one he knew that wasn't. The characteristic clouds that the city was known for had mostly dissipated following their routine inflow from the surrounding mountains.
Good aerial visibility enabled the starship to navigate easily through the diverging lanes of noontime air traffic. A minute after entering the airspace the pilot put them on a smooth, curving descent, so smooth that Duncan nearly fell asleep. He was jarred awake by the vessel's engines flaring over the tarmac of the starport apron.
They pulled in alongside a number of other civilian starships of different sizes and classifications. Offloading was also thankfully smooth as the passengers moved through a docking umbilical into one of the starport terminals.
He made sure to keep an eye on the overhead directions as he walked among the crowds walking to the front exits. Without having any baggage to clear beforehand he was virtually free to make his way out of the starport.
Eventually he accompanied an outflow of civilians through a pair of sliding doors onto the front of Terminal A. The wide roadway in front of what he realized to be a segmented, question-mark shaped starport was heavily occupied, mostly by passing vehicles dropping off and picking up persons wielding bulky suitcases. Past the front road was an expanse of forested hills. They rolled several hundred meters back before being framed in by the white-walled foundations of an upper part of the city.
He knew O'Reilly was waiting for him at a nearby coffee shop since they confirmed where they would meet. A quick glance at the wrist watch he borrowed from Erica showed he only had another 30 minutes to get where he needed to go. He got to work hailing down a taxi van. He showed the driver his destination on his GPS, displayed his ID card and got himself a free ride into the city curtesy of his UNSC-affiliation.
:********:
The Havadi Goodwan coffee shop was located at two of the bottom-most levels of one of the dozens of skyscrapers lining Semmelweis Avenue. For the two floors that it occupied, there were canvased overhangs with brown stripes of caramel, cinnamon and pecan shades. They hemmed in the windows which were nearly aglow from the light of the interior. That effect, combined with the fruity and burnt smells wafting through the open door gave the place an inviting air.
The smell wasn't the only thing that greeted him. As he made his way up the staircase that climbed up the skyscraper's raised foundation, he caught sight of a familiar face leaning against the rails.
While the stubbly beard adorning his face wasn't quite new, Duncan was momentarily shocked by his somber look.
O'Reilly appeared lost in deep thought. Then he caught sight of Duncan coming up on his right and his expression brightened into a genuine grin. "Took you long enough to get out of bedding with your beautiful blonde, Sunny Jim! Now hurry up and get over here so we can catch a seat, huh!?"
Duncan grinned and laughed back in a mock Irish accent. "Riley old boy, if you hadn't o' called, I'd still be bedding even now."
The two shared another round of laughter as they joined each other on a landing. The two swung their hands into a handshake and got in a solid man hug.
"It's good to see you lad."
"It's good to see you too, Rile."
"Alright, alright, that's enough." O'Reilly joked, pulling away to slap him on the shoulder. "Save the rest for Erica, huh?"
"And I'd say the same to you with your GF."
"...Oh, well, we'll see about that, shall we? Come on, let's get ourselves a table."
"Right."
The two of them walked up the last of the stairs onto the raised front patio of the coffee shop. Most of the space was occupied by oval-shaped, wooden tables. A few handfuls of men and women were enjoying cups of coffee along with cookies, plates of cake, muffins and sandwiches.
Duncan and O'Reilly blended in thanks to their basic jeans as well as their black and gray T-shirts respectively. Still, while passing among the tables and decorative cedar columns that stretched up to the overhangs, they caught more than a few curious glances. What their clothes couldn't hide was the unconsciously imposing demeanor of men who weren't what they appeared to be. One simply didn't fight the greatest existential threat to humanity in recorded history and come out of that with the bearing of a normal person. That, and they were ODSTs. The fine mixture kept them within the interest of onlookers as they passed through the doors.
Inside were several lanes of customers waiting in line to reach an equal number of counters on the other end of the room. The counter-side servicers were taking orders amidst an array of wall-mounted chalkboards with detailed menu items, coffee machines, digital registers and pastries in glass displays. The smell wafting from the many occupied tables on the bottom floor released a savory odor of sharp caffeine and smooth, nutty sweetness.
They headed across the brown-tiled floor, rounded one of several mahogany staircases leading to the upper level and stepped out of the way of waiters carrying full platters to tables. Passing underneath the gentle lights stringed from the roof, they stopped on the shortest line to look at the menus.
'I've got my eyes on the slice of lemon cake and the medium caramel espresso." O'Reilly said. "How about you?"
Standing just behind him, Duncan was still making up his mind. He searched between the images of various pastries and hot and cold beverages. His attention was drawn to an iced, caramel mocha. "I'll take that frozen stuff in the upper right corner."
"You mean that Rorschach test of a drink over there?"
"Yeah, looking at it makes me feel like I'm getting a psych eval."
"Get whatever you like, it's on me."
Duncan turned to him. "Seriously?"
"Listen, I made you fly all the way over here. Paying for this is the least I can do."
It wasn't a bad deal. "Alright then, one Rorschach test please."
O'Reilly shook his head as the last customer before him stepped aside, allowing him up to the counter. He gave their orders to a freckle-faced servicer sporting a forced customer-friendly smile. After processing the Irishman's credit chip to confirm the purchase, they stepped aside with those waiting for their orders. A few minutes of grinding coffee grounds and making small talk later, another servicer called out to them with what they came for. O'Reilly took the paper bag with his lemon cake alongside the paper cup of steaming espresso while Duncan got his iced mocha.
As they went walking around, Duncan felt his own treat starting to singe his palm with how cold it was. He resorted to shifting it between his hands every so often to avoid the freezer burn. Still, he had to admit it looked far better than anything UNSC Procurement had to offer. Then again, that wasn't saying much. At most, it told him that he wasn't getting out as often as he ought to, making this trip a much-needed break from military life.
They couldn't find any space on the bottom floor. It made sense, O'Reilly pointed out, since this was the peak of the lunch rush. Instead, they redirected to the outflows of the upper floor in the hopes of finding some room.
Heading up the nearest staircase, O'Reilly asked; "I haven't tried my stuff yet, but what do you think of that brown ice-cream thing?"
Duncan was still struggling to manage his juggling act with the mocha. Seeing that the caramel laced spiral of whip-cream on the top was beginning to melt, he decided to take a few sips of it with his straw. The cool delicacy both chilled and greeted his tongue with something akin to liquid joy. His eyes went wide at the beautiful taste of chocolate syrup, coffee and caramel intertwined together into a harmonious dance of flavor. "It's...heaven, honest to God, they should've charged us more for this."
O'Reilly laughed. "Yeah, no. 'Cause then I'd be the one paying for it. Let's just say we got a good steal then."
"Yeah." Duncan zoned out as he took another sip, stopped himself to save the rest for when they found their table, then took several more sips anyway.
They circumvented a landing with a jewel-like chandelier hanging high above and started along the next section of the staircase.
"How long do you have until your flight back, boyo?"
"Huh?"
"When do you need to be heading back?"
"Oh." Duncan brought the details of his travel back to mind, a difficult task given the chilling wonder in his mouth that was putting him on the verge of an early brain freeze. "The return flights at 1800. Should be long enough, right?"
O'Reilly thought it over. "Yeah, should be. That gives us some time to catch up. And believe me, there's lots to talk about."
They came out from the steps to find the upper floor filled to half-capacity. Like the floor below, the PA system was playing the smooth, prerecorded moan of an emotive trumpet accompanied by the light, rhythmic tapping of a drum cymbal. Occasionally the former would trade places with a piano that delivered a gentle string of twinkling notes. They spotted an available seat on one of the external balconies and headed for it. All the while Duncan tuned in to the jazz music. It had a calming and playful ring to it that made him relax. He saw O'Reilly glance a few times at roof-mounted PA units that they passed, smiling all the while.
"That's a sweet melody right there if ever there was."
"You play jazz, Rile?"
"No, but I bloody wish I could. Hearing this, I would've been a hell of a lot better at being a lady's man if I'd learned the trumpet. God bless whoever made this gem of an album they've got playing."
"Amen."
To Duncan, it was slightly strange that both of them who were Orbital Drop Shock Troopers were enjoying a nonchalant round of jazz. He always thought flip music was better suited to their profession, but just hearing this made him want to stroll around the city thinking about how his life was going. Maybe an ODST, someone whose lifespan routinely shrunk from 70 years to 70 seconds, should play something like this to ease their nerves on a drop. Maybe even to have a bit of introspection on the ride down. Given the imminent chance of death, some deep thinking about the choices that lead them to this point wasn't such a bad idea.
They settled down on the two seats of the free table on the balcony. Above them, the skyscraper they were in arose to a towering visage among a plethora of others in the neighborhood. Below, the passing afternoon traffic wisped along the streets and highways while pedestrians streamed along the sidewalks. The clamor of the outside was thankfully drowned out by the jazz.
Duncan took a few more icy sips while O'Reilly brought out his bready lemon cake to run a plastic knife through its yellow crust.
"So, wanna tell me what you've been up to this whole time in my battalion?"
The question finally broke Duncan's attention away from his mocha. "What do you mean, my?"
"Don't you remember?" O'Reilly used his fork to take a bite out of his cake and talked with a mouthful. "Our deployment orders got mixed up. You were transferred to my battalion; I was transferred to yours. The 7th was supposed to be my home. Instead, you got yourself a nice n' comfy spot on my squad and vice versa. How'd all that turn out?"
In the years that he'd gone through the ringer, it had almost completely slipped Duncan's mind that everything he had done with Epsilon was supposed to have been O'Reilly doing them. From Epsilon Eridani IV to Actium, all of it was meant for someone else to have experienced. But he did instead. "To be real with you, I don't even know where to start."
He wasn't lying either. There were things he simply couldn't cover, spans of time that knowingly couldn't be accounted for under any circumstance. But it made him wonder how his friend would have reacted if he faced the same thing; the conundrum that haunted him ever since his stay on Onyx.
Seeing that he was hesitating, O'Reilly waved a dismissive hand. "If it's that much then it's no worries. Just give me a rundown and I'll return the favor."
That worked.
"I was at Miridem when it fell." Duncan said thoughtfully. The mention brought along with it a few vivid memories that he tried to ignore: the sound of ripping as he made Zack turn his back on Captain Harper in that train station, the scream of Echo's Pelican as it crashed down a short distance from the Tyrant AA Gun.
O'Reilly had stopped eating to stare wide-eyed at him. "You mean, you were in that mess, the fighting on the ground?"
Duncan nodded, causing the Irishman to put down his fork and take a stunned swig of his espresso. "And how'd that turn out?"
At that point, drinking his iced mocha was doing little more than taking some of the sting away from his memories. "We almost lost the whole platoon."
O'Reilly was about to drink his espresso again when he heard that. It stopped him in his tracks. "What?"
"My platoo-, well, almost yours, got downsized by about two squads. One of them got wiped out in an abandoned train station. The other got shot out of the sky trying to take down an anti-aircraft gun. By the end of that battle, Epsilon was the only one left."
He watched his friend's stare grow increasingly grim throughout what was initially a light-hearted conversation. With espresso in hand, O'Reilly was glancing between the city and an adjacent table, trying to connect a few dots. Whatever those dots were, they made him suddenly turn to Duncan in alarm, moving as if he was going to say something but himself stopping before he could. After a second, he took in a long drink. "I'm sorry, Duncan. I didn't know."
"It's alright, man. I haven't really gotten over it but I have tried to make peace with it. Talking about it helps."
"I'd hope it does." The orange-haired ODST took in another sip then stared into his reflection on the steaming, brown liquid.
"I helped them find and defuse antimatter charges in a starport though."
O'Reilly nearly spit it out what he'd drank. "Hold on, what? Antimatter Charges? Like, the big bombs that can wipe out cities, you mean those?"
"Yeah. I'll tell you, that was close. I found them out of a hunch I was acting on."
"A hunch? You're telling me you found things like that by guessing?"
Duncan nodded. "Yup, that's about right."
O'Reilly took a long sip, shifted his coffee around and shook his head. "Should've gotten something stronger. Tell you what, it's a good thing you survived that. Seriously, congratulations on not getting yourself blown to kingdom come. That's an accomplishment if ever there was. But in that case, maybe it's a good thing you took my place. I don't know if I could survive that. Really, I wouldn't want to deal with half of what you went through there." He laid his cup aside. "What about the other half though?"
Halfway through enjoying his cup, Duncan stopped gulping down the chilly delicacy. "What?"
"Miridem was September. What else happened after that?"
The question was expected. However, it was dreaded for that exact same reason. Duncan mentally prepared himself for the answer. Yet honesty made him slip. "I..."
The Staff's words on the ride back from the Trafalgar stopped him: "ONI may be keeping an eye on us for some time. We don't want to be involved with them again if we can help it. Until we're no longer on their radar, however long that might be, keep…that information…to yourselves."
"I can't say." Getting it out was such a colossal effort that he had to take a few steadying breaths to pull himself together. "I...ended up doing a lot of things I'm not allowed to talk about officially."
To his surprise, O'Reilly's reaction was limited to a casual shrug of his shoulders amidst digging into his lemon cake. "That's alright, then what can you talk about?"
Duncan blinked a few times, stunned. He scratched his head to try to relieve the rising itch of his own conscience. "After a while my battalion wound up in a Reach QRF headed to Actium. Oh, hey, I got to see the place where they made Cole's ship by the way."
The Irishman was stupefied for the briefest second. "You saw where they made the Everest?"
"It was this huge drydock at a shipyard we were defending. Man, it was massive. I can only imagine how big the actual ship was."
"There aren't too many Valiants around these days." O'Reilly noted. "So you got to see one of the last few pieces of that history that we've got left."
"Yeah. That was back when Actium was still a planet. Any history there is little more than ashes nowadays."
"Actium fell, right? I heard about that. Waypoint said Colonel Mentieth and the 53rd were heroes for what they did. They even played part of his May 10th speech on every channel. It sounds nice but if you ask me, I feel like they're giving him the Cole treatment. That said, I think I can take your word for it since you were there. What'd you think?"
Once more, Duncan struggled to suppress the memory of his old nightmare. What he failed to stop were the genuine memories of the fighting at High Mediolanum. Then there was that traumatic gut-punch of climbing the ridge of Mount Sabato only to find those staging grounds. He decided to finish the last dregs of his mocha to let the icy feeling refresh him. He set the finished cup aside.
"Can I ask you something instead?"
"Shoot."
"Do you think we can win this war?"
Something happened that Duncan wasn't expecting. O'Reilly stopped drinking his espresso to set it down with eyes set on the table. It seemed that something heavy lifted off the man in a way that made him relax his shoulders. He leaned back in his seat, sighing as if they had finally gotten to the topic he wanted to talk about most. "That's an interesting question, Sunny Jim. And I honestly think the answer is yes."
Duncan started to feel a bit of relief that it was at least a different answer to the one he was expecting. It was better than a direct or indirect 'no'. "Really?"
"Yeah. It just depends."
"On what?"
O'Reilly leaned forward. "On what you mean by we."
The answer had taken a turn that Duncan also wasn't expecting, for reasons that were still foggy to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're talking about the UNSC. The United Nations Space Command, in my opinion, doesn't have much of a hand left to play in this war. It's obvious every day it goes on and I'm sure you've seen it too."
"Woah-woah, hey." Duncan held up his hands, starting to laugh. "You okay, Rile?"
"I'm fine. Why'd you ask?"
"You just said we can win. Then you said we can't win. Which is it?"
"Like I said," O'Reilly forked off another slice of cake and slipped it into his mouth. "Depends on what you mean by we?"
Confusion began to fall over Duncan's mind like a veil. "By we, I mean us, as in you and me who are ODSTs. Our squads who are ODSTs. Our battalions who are ODSTs. We fight for the United Nations Space Command. That's what we do."
"Fight for the UNSC?" O'Reilly huffed. "Why not fight for humanity? Why not fight alongside people on the basis that they're just that, people like you and me?"
Duncan slowly leaned away. "...Riley, what are you talking about?"
O'Reilly took the last bite of his cake. He wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin then casually drank from his espresso whose steam was already waning out. "I know I've done this a lot already but let me answer your question with a question. It's my turn to tell my story. Do you still want to hear it?"
"...Am I going to regret it if I do?"
"Probably."
"...Shoot."
"Okay then, I'll shoot. While I was in the 10th, I undertook a number of missions on different planets. The Covies were never anything easy to deal with and I'm sure you saw that for yourself." O'Reilly set his cup down despite that it had little left in it. He stopped to recall a memory that didn't sit well with him as evidenced by the grimace that made its debut on his face. "On January 10th of this year, the 10th went in to Draco III as part of a Cygnus QRF. What an unlucky number, huh, the 10th going in on the 10th? It's like we were set up...
Duncan was watching his friend intently which let him see the exact moment that his focus drifted off to the surrounding cityscape. The clouds from the encircling mountains were beginning to return to their normal level at the mid-line of the plenteous skyscrapers. However, he knew that that wasn't what was of interest here. The people were that passed in the streets. O'Reilly kept a tired, apologetic eye on the men, women and children that were going about their day.
"It's like we were all set up."
"Riley?"
"...Sorry...I was with Delta Company. We were working to extract UEG dignitaries and civilians in some god-forsaken place called Karnak. It wasn't even the planetary capital. Some other company got that job so they got spared the worst of it." He grasped the cup in front of him. He didn't drink from it, instead gripping it like a source of relief. "We lost everything there, everything and everyone. The Covies glassed Karnak, Duncan, whole kilometers where there were still people. Once they'd gotten between us and our exfil craft they were able to maintain control of the skies. Then they had us trapped. It didn't take long for them to break our backs after that."
He drank the last of his coffee and slowly crushed the cup while he spoke. "They sent waves at us. A lack of any solid air support combined with their Banshees and Seraphs pushed us from our exfil points on the coast, broke us apart. We stopped fighting as a company. There weren't enough of us for it. It was platoon sized fighting after that on street after street. Then it was squads fighting from one floor of a building up to the next."
He placed the suffocated plastic cup onto the table in a gentleness that didn't match his expression. "My squad got wiped out. I saw them go down one after the other, some to plasma, some to needlers, some in up-close fights and others to snipers. Anything that could hit us ultimately did." Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes at a pained reminiscence. His hands gradually tightened into trembling fists. He lay his face in his palms to take in shaky inhalations. Soon he had collected himself enough to be able to look Duncan in the eye again. "Remember that Bulgarian girl I told you about, the one I was with?"
The sudden hoarseness of his voice caused Duncan to worry far more than he already was for him. "Yeah."
"You remember her name?"
"...No."
"...Yana." O'Reilly forced himself to sit straighter. "She was a PFC, radio communications specialist. The last of us were holding out on a rooftop of some apartment. I remember our corporal was giving us orders since our sarge got hit on the way up. I'd told Yana to keep trying the radio to see if there was anyone who might still be in the area for an emergency exfil. She insisted there wasn't anyone picking up, not even on the E-band. We knew they weren't completely gone; they were just ignoring us. Still, she kept trying. I remember turning my back on her for one second. Just one second. That's all it took to hear something blow up behind me. When I turned back around, she was lying there with a blown open radio-set. Some Jackal tried their hand at beam rifling her from another rooftop. It managed to hit the equipment, blew a whole bunch of shrapnel through her spine too. She wouldn't stop screaming. Our doc was killed earlier on and the others were holding the door so it was just me. She wouldn't stop screaming. I did everything I could to try to help. It wasn't-, God, she just wouldn't stop-…"
O'Reilly's eyes were glazed over. He shut them, grasping at his head to hold back what he had obviously been holding in for a long time, longer than Duncan could have thought possible.
"I didn't realize until it was too late that she'd gotten hit in the throat too. There wasn't anything I could do by then." He brought up his arms, both still scarred by the reminders of his many past relationships. "I held her like this while she choked to death, and the most I could do was watch while she did it."
His arms came to rest on the table. They carried on them a weight that settled heavily over the air of their conversation. "The whole of Delta Company was annihilated. You want to know why? It's because the UNSC Navy abandoned Karnak. They abandoned us in that place. I know you lost a lot. But because of them, I lost everything. My squad, my platoon, my entire company was expendable."
Duncan could feel his own heart being wrenched out of his chest at the agony that had become his friend's life without him even knowing. That much loss would be nigh near impossible to come to terms with. Nevertheless, he felt the need to speak up, to somehow bring up a defense for the other party. "I'm-, I'm sorry, Rile. I really am. I see you went through a lot. Maybe it was because the Covenant beat back your exfil? Or maybe they got wiped out too?" He stopped at seeing a fire come alight in O'Reilly's eyes.
"That's the thing, Duncan. They didn't even try." O'Reilly held up a shaking finger and jabbed it forward with each point. "They didn't...even...try. There were no reports of any navy ships trying to push their way in to get us. They left us, all of us, civilians, Marines and ODSTs. They left all of us there to die. And we did. Everyone except me and the holy mother only knows who else, if there were any others."
"...Then how'd you escape?"
"Once the Covies broke out onto the rooftop they killed whoever was still standing. I had to throw myself down the fire escape. I ran into the sewers. It wasn't easy but I managed to get out into the hillside. There were Covenant patrols all over the interior. Eventually I came across this town where a good number of Marines who were left behind were trying to hold out. Of course, they couldn't. By the time I got there the Covies had already rounded thousands of civilians they'd captured up into a valley. As I was moving around, I saw when an equal number of Grunts and Jackals started to eat them. They didn't choose anyone at random or have any sort of organized system. All they did was move in to catch anything that tried to run away. The most I could do was keep my distance." O'Reilly's ire gradually drained from his expression at recalling another detail. "At the outskirts of that town I came across this group of people, not Marines. Just guys with guns. They were able to save a few civilians. They found me too and decided to help me out after I asked if I could come with them. We made a day-long march to a starship they'd hidden away. Then they got me and anyone else that they could find out of there."
A silence passed between them punctuated by the natural ambiance of New Alexandria. Duncan hadn't noticed until then that the jazz music was still playing, that everyone around them was still chatting casually, that the world hadn't stopped on account of them. What was a sensation of fear and worry was growing in his gut. It merely worsened at hearing O'Reilly make his next point.
"The UNSC weren't the ones that saved my life, Sunny Jim. Those other guys did. So, I joined them. The reason why I haven't gotten a chance to contact you before late last month was because I've been working with them since Draco. And the reason I called you here, the real reason anyway, was to see if I can offer you the same thing."
That cold feeling in Duncan's stomach shifted into a smoldering heat. His growing nerves combined with the shock of what was behind all of this threatened to overwhelm him. "...You came here..." He leaned in. "...to ask me if I wanted to leave the UNSC?"
O'Reilly stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "It's not the only reason, just the main one."
A blankness settled in on Duncan's beleaguered mind with such severity that he felt the fire in his gut turn to an obscene nausea. He fought down the urge to throw up right then and there or to ask what the hell had happened to his friend since he last saw him. But he already knew the answer to that. It required willing himself back to a sense of strength to handle the situation, because now he wasn't simply sitting with a friend. He was also sitting off-duty with a man who'd gone AWOL, and God only knew what else he was. It was that subtly panicked feeling alongside genuine curiosity that brought out his next question. "Tell me this Riley, who are these people that you've been working with exactly?"
"I can't say, not yet. Not until I know your answer."
"My answer to what?"
"My offer to join up."
Duncan's face unconsciously twitched. He caught himself enough to give a slow shake of his head. "You know I can't do that."
"Why not?" O'Reilly asked daringly.
"Riley, you know why I can't."
"How about this; what made you ask me if I thought we could win this war or not?
Duncan didn't answer.
"Come on pal, riddle me that. What really made you ask me that question?
Again, no answer.
"So you're not going to admit it then? Alright, I'll admit it for you. Let me guess, you've had your doubts for a while already but something on Actium made you break with the silence."
Duncan tried not to show how right he was. Regardless of his efforts, he looked away. O'Reilly noticed and leaned in even more. "I knew it. I can tell, because I've seen that face before on so many of the guys that I'm working with now. They saw what was coming. Even you can see it now. The UNSC has no chance in hell of winning this war. You and me, however, have a chance. You, me, Erica and Noah."
This time Duncan's gaze shot to O'Reilly's, making the latter grin ever so slightly at knowing he had hit the mark.
"What'd you just-"
"I meant what I said."
For an instant, Duncan couldn't tell whether he was being baited or not. As long as he'd known his friend, he never knew him to talk lightly about his family. Then again, he never knew him to be a defector either. "What do they have to do with this? Why not find someone else to make this offer to than me?"
An earnestness settled on O'Reilly's face that Duncan knew couldn't be faked. "Because you're like family to me. As far as I can tell, you're the only thing close to it that I've got left. Erica and Noah are part of yours too so I see them the same way. It only makes sense then that I'd want to look out for family when I have the chance."
The mind of at least one of them went blank. A loss for words was barely the right phrase for it. Duncan settled back into his seat. "You said we could win, we as in not the UNSC. So if defending colonies isn't enough then tell me how it is you 'guys' plan on winning this war?"
"It's simple. What's the UNSC fighting for now?"
"The survival of the human race."
"Precisely, or so it claims. We're trying to do the exact same thing."
"How?"
O'Reilly looked left to the nearest tables as if to check how much space there was between him and them. Then he checked the nearby cityscape. After being certain of whatever it was he was looking around for he answered just above a whisper. "Survival is winning. The Covenant want to wipe us all out. If we survive, we win. Now imagine this, Duncan, what if something happened to you out on a QRF deployment? What would Erica and Noah do if the Covenant came here now? You wouldn't be there to defend them. I doubt anybody else could either. Soon they would wind up being evac'd back to Earth, and who knows how long it'll be before the hinge-heads get there too. Then what after that, where's there left for them to run after everywhere they can go is glassed?"
There weren't any good answers for it. The reason Duncan knew there weren't was because it was the one question no one could really answer whenever he asked them himself.
"Believe me when I say that we've got a way to do that. I've seen it with my own eyes. We've even found a place for ourselves that the Covenant would never so much as think to look for us. And maybe, if you decide this, it's a place where Erica and Noah could be certain they'll be safe in the long term."
Duncan wasn't convinced, not completely. Even so he felt parts of his own logic prompting him to look around the city and to wonder how long it would be there as well. Erica had just moved here looking for him. How safe was it in the long term for her or for anyone? Certainly, the people at New Memphis and High Mediolanum thought they had more time. There was never any meaningful way to tell when and where the hammer would fall next until it ultimately did.
It only then struck him as odd that somehow people managed to live moment to moment for the last two decades not knowing when Covenant ships would come steaming through the clouds overhead. Had they simply made peace with it, or was it something that wasn't anything more than a Waypoint update about a neighboring system, not really a reality to them up till the time that glassing beams started coming down around them?
That was his reality. He knew exactly what it looked like, which was maybe why he could watch the hundreds of pedestrians below who seemed to have little trouble carrying briefcases, backpacks, holding babies and guiding kids across zebra crossings. It was one thing to hear of planetary destruction. It was another entirely to see it firsthand. No one could truly know what it was they thought they knew in theory until they saw it in real-time practice. People here didn't know any better, and neither did he before he joined the ODSTs. Their lack of experience could and possibly would be the average civilian's undoing. Their casualness with the war they were in for the last twenty years could make them a casualty in it at a moment's notice, and he was sad to admit that it more often than not panned out that way.
Despite that glaring fact, his own experience was what he knew might also get him killed in the end. Experience taught him that he couldn't bring himself to leave people to a fate they didn't fully understand. The enslaved miners on Epsilon Eridani IV taught him that much. He wasn't about to leave anyone behind, not if he could do something about it.
But could he?
"No." Duncan replied.
O'Reilly cocked his head. "No?"
"I'm not taking your offer, Riley. I can't do that. You know why I can't."
O'Reilly's face became a mask of confusion and disappointment. "You already said that."
"You already knew that."
An air of angered frustration resumed between them. A shadow fell under O'Reilly's eyes as he stared at Duncan who met his gaze unwaveringly. "You're making a mistake, boyo. A big one."
"Maybe so. It's mine to make though."
"You're going to live to regret it. I swear, Duncan, you'll live to regret that you didn't take the chance to get Erica and Noah somewhere safe when you could have." O'Reilly gritted his teeth, his brow furrowing as he pressed a hand against his own reddening temples. "Would you at least think about it before you go throwing your life and that of your lass away so casually!?"
The shout earned a few worried glances from the other tables. The two ODSTs ignored them as they stared each other down.
Duncan replied in an even tone. "I've given it all the thought it deserves. But I'm not about to leave my family somewhere outside UNSC control, and I'm not leaving my squad either."
"And how long will it be before they leave you?"
The quandary was met with silence.
"How long will it be until your squad's luck runs out like it did mine, mine, the one that was supposed to be yours? It was that little mix-up that got you spared the fate that fell on me instead. But how long?" O'Reilly leaned in close, his teeth gritted as he jabbed a finger at him like a sword ready to pierce. "How long before Erica gets a telegram from the UNSC like your mother did, a simple 'Sorry, he died' in return for all the years she knew you and all that you did for them."
A strong bitterness made the veins in Duncan's neck visible. "Don't...talk about my mother like that. Don't talk about Erica like that. Don't talk about me like that. I told you that stuff because you're a friend but now I'm starting to regret it."
"You don't get it, lad." O'Reilly said, nearly standing to shake his head at him in quizzical anger. "I got what was meant for you. You got what was meant for me. You didn't get what was coming to you. I did, and it bloody cost me everything I had, everyone too. How long, Duncan? How long until you and me end up like Cosmo and Stanton, burning to death uselessly in a pod because life dealt us a bad hand or getting shot by some buzzard because we were too busy trying to save someone else to save our own skins?"
Duncan's hands trembled beneath the table. "Riley-"
"How long until Erica's a graying woman who has to look at old photo albums just to recall what it felt like to be with you, if she even gets that far?"
His hands balled into shaking fists. "Riley."
"How long till Noah is a grown man who doesn't even remember what his own FATHER looked like, if he even gets that far!?"
O'Reilly didn't get a chance to block the punch that came shooting out from under the table to strike his jaw. The sound of the impact as his head snapped violently to the side filtered through the whole of the second floor.
Duncan was on his feet, standing with arms ready at his side. "Don't ever talk about them like that again, or I'll break your skull next."
O'Reilly didn't look stunned, only angry. His bruised jaw shifted around into a bare-toothed scowl as he looked up at him. He slowly stood up so that their darkened eyes were level. "Try."
"What'd you say?"
"I said I want to see you try. I won't be giving you any more free hits from here."
By then the entire floor was silent, save for the jazz that did little more than unease the already startled patrons watching the two of them square off on the balcony. Multiple footsteps sounded on the nearest staircase. Before either of them could make a move, four of the shop's black-clad security guards came storming onto the floor. They quickly identified the source of the commotion and surrounded them.
One, a man with a thick horseshoe moustache spoke in a forceful voice. "Gentlemen, you can't do this here." He pointed back to the entryway of the stairs. "I'm sorry, but you'll either have to take this outside or we'll take you outside."
The two ODSTs took one last, heated look at the other. O'Reilly was the first to round on the guards. "No worries guys, we were just leaving anyway."
"I would hope so." The guard with the horseshoe moustache nodded him along.
Duncan watched while the Irishman left first, two of the shop's guards escorting him. Midway to the stairs he stopped to look back over his shoulder. "We're not done 'ere. So don't go thinking that we are." With that, he turned back to the staircase and left without another word.
The guy he presumed to be the lead guard nodded to Duncan next. He could still feel a volatile mix of emotions stirring inside of him as he allowed the guards to escort him off the scene under the concerned vigil of dozens of customers. There was anger in him at what had just happened, regret that he had struck his friend to start, then regret that he didn't punch his teeth out at the end. He felt in the wrong as well as justified, certain he was the one that was right yet uncertain if it honestly mattered. Above all else was a feeling that he was certain about. It was the only one that had stayed constant throughout the whole of his time with O'Reilly, that was there long before they stepped through the doors of the coffee shop:
The feeling of being watched.
Disputatio - Talk