The Rabbit and the Wolfe: Gemstone Symphony

by Aggron Prime

The Didact has returned. With the power of the Domain and a legion of religious zealots, he craves only one thing: Humanity's extinction. As he begins his relentless assault, Blue Team desperately search for a means to stop him. But as the bodies begin to pile up, it becomes clear that a small strike force may not be enough. Just how much are they willing to sacrifice for victory?

The Rabbit and the Wolfe

Welcome back to the final installment of the RW series! Now that I have your attention…you know what to expect for the M rating, so I won't cover it a third time. Hope you're ready for a wild ride because this rollercoaster has many twists and turns ahead. Will there be a happy ending? You will just have to keep reading to find out! Thank you all for sticking with me through this adventure and I hope my story has brought some joy to your lives. With that, we are a go on chapter one of the final arc of Rabbit and the Wolfe! Lock and load, Halo fans!

01: Cloak of Darkness

February 14, 2562 (Military Calendar)

Melbourne, Australia, Earth

Sol System

1400 hours

Situated almost seven kilometers outside of the bustling metropolis of Melbourne, Detention Center 19, a block of drab gray titanium, squatted in the belly of a valley encompassed by a healthy mix of mountain ash and southern sassafras trees that made up a majority of the surrounding forest. Steep hills and thick vegetation made most ground travel impassable, save for a single road that pierced the jungle like an asphalt needle. Fifteen-foot walls deterred most escape attempts while any of the four Anaconda missile batteries were a very good incentive for aircraft to steer clear. Nobody entered the compound unless they wanted you to.

Sandra's cage wasn't very big, just sixteen strides around the perimeter, but it included all the luxuries she'd need: cot, toilet and sink. All courteously welded to the floor to prevent any further outbursts. Like last week, where one of the more aggressive prisoners tried to bash a MP's skull in with a toilet lid. Or the week before that, when it took two armored Spartans to free the poor Marine assigned to maintenance from a nonstop drink that a prisoner was so keen on him enjoying.

In an effort to cut costs, the detention facility recycled the orange jumpsuits all prisoners wore. As one inmate left, the suits were inspected, cleaned and sterilized before being passed on to the next poor sod. The previous owner of Sandra's suit must have been built like a mountain because, even on her augmented frame, it was still loose in several areas.

This was ridiculous. Her 30th birthday, a fairly significant milestone, and she was spending it in a detention facility. ONI had, to no one's surprise, pulled the chair out from under her feet. While the review board had absolved her for any involvement in the URF attacks on the Infinity and Tribute, they had found a little box to place her in where she would cause the least damage. All because she had failed to follow the strict guidelines concerning 'civilian presence on an active military vessel engaged in wartime operations'. Strict guidelines?! Serin was the one who gave me the fucking green light! Yet, where was she when Sandra was carted off to this gloomy, monotonous box out in the middle of nowhere? Conveniently absent. Figures. Probably laughing her ass off, wherever the hell she is. Fucking spook. Grumbling unkind things under her breath, she stood and began pacing the small cell in an effort to keep sane.

A lone set of footsteps shuffled down the barren corridor, a cacophony of angry slurs following in their wake. In the short time she had been here, the young Spartan only knew of one person that could summon such heat wherever he went. Staff Sergeant Grimmes was a tall, balding man in his early fifties who had spent the majority of his adult life on the frontlines. While perfectly respectable in conversation, the man had the tendency to be more aggressive than necessary when subduing inmates. It was rumored that he even killed a few prisoners during an escape attempt a few years back, but it was never proven. That didn't stop people from talking. Grimmes, or 'The Grim One', wore the supposed insult like a badge of honor, striding confidently through the halls like he owned the place. He stopped in front of her cell, a curious glint in his stony glare.

"How's today's entertainment?" He asked, his snide tone attempting to hide the genuine amusement in his smirk. Sandra met his gaze as she leaned against the nearest wall, arms folded across her chest. The cell 'door' is actually a single piece of transparent steel that acts as both a barrier and a viewing window. While privacy from the guards is impossible, the cells, while square, are installed at an angle that prevents other prisoners from communicating. It also gave them some modicum of privacy. Thank god for small mercies.

"Dry, bland and much too short for my liking." She said, eyeing the rifle in his hands.

"You like?" He asked rhetorically, brazenly flaunting the weapon to see how the Spartan would react. Grimmes frowned when the blonde only raised a questioning brow in lieu of a verbal response. "Misriah's newest MA series rifle. 36-round mag. Probably enough to drop a Spartan, hmm?"

"Doubtful." She lied. Firsthand experience and simulated training taught her that it takes at most 20 rounds to drop a Spartan. A full magazine of the stuff would turn even the most robust Spartan into swiss cheese. But she wasn't about to tell him that.

"Shame you won't be able to try it yourself for, say…a decade?" She scowled at his jab which earned a bark of laughter in response. It was at times like this that Sandra despised the barrier. Grimmes was tolerable most of the time, but her patience with his antagonistic and combative nature only went so far. She was just glad the recruiters for the Spartan branch shared her mentality. To give such a volatile individual unmatched strength and speed would be a bad day for everyone involved.

"Staff Sergeant Grimmes!" The man's expression darkened even as some of the color drained from his rugged face. Forcing a smile on his face, he turned to greet the newest arrival.

"L-lieutenant Cervaal! He saluted crisply as Sandra fought a losing battle not to smirk at his obvious discomfort. The no-nonsense officer was the complete polar opposite of the grizzled soldier. With a tongue sharper than a combat knife, she could silence a room with just a few words. Her regulation-length raven hair was bound tightly behind her in a bun, allowing her rich hazelnut skin to breathe easy. Stopping a few steps away, she returned the motion. "I didn't expect your arrival ma'am."

"That's because I didn't tell you." Cervaal answered, annoyance flickering clearly behind her eyes. South African born and raised, she moved to Australia after graduating from Corbulo Military Academy. "The UNSC frowns upon tormenting prisoners, as do I. If I catch you acting in a manner unfit for your position again, I will have you cleaning latrines for a year. Do I make myself clear?" Standing almost a head taller, the woman glared down at him until he nodded. The lieutenant was not satisfied. "Your mother gave you a mouth, trooper. Use it!"

"Yes, ma'am! Understood. May I continue my rounds?" Cervaal nodded, not trusting her words just yet. She watched until he rounded the corner. Grimmes was a bulldog, and a particularly fierce one at that. Sometimes he just needed to be reminded that he was now on a leash. Turning to Sandra, she was pleasantly surprised to find the Spartan offering a crisp salute of her own. Most people on the other side of the glass tended not to show her the slightest amount of respect. She quickly returned it.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, ma'am?" Unlike Grimmes, this woman seemed genuinely pleased to see her. Either that or she was just happy that Cervaal had driven off the resident bulldog.

"You have friends in high places, Spartan. Seems HIGHCOM wants to reinstate you." Sandra couldn't swallow the shock as it overtook her face. Reinstated? "Captain Lasky called to inform me he was sending several soldiers as an escort. To be honest, I didn't think he'd send Spartans." As if on cue, three very familiar Spartans stepped into her field of vision, but the armor they were wearing was all…wrong. Stomping out the flurry of emotions that threatened to spill over, she settled for indifference. Offering a quick nod to the trio of soldiers, she refocused on the lieutenant.

"Good to hear. When do I get out of here?" Lieutenant Cervaal tapped a few keys on the display beside her cell and the barrier receded into its titanium housing with a metallic hiss.

"Now." She gestured for Sandra to step out and immediately turned on her heel and marched down the hall.

"No cuffs?" Sandra called out, throwing a questioning glance to the others.

"Figured three Spartans would be enough to handle whatever trouble anyone might give you." The lieutenant answered, not bothering to turn around. With a shrug Blue Team didn't bother to return, they quickly caught up. The walk was quiet as the group made their way past dozens of cells, following the painted arrows back to Central Processing. Sandra passed the time examining her companions' armor. It bore a strong resemblance to the original generation of MJOLNIR power armor with its heavy plating, though each suit employed a more compact and streamlined design similar to her own. 104 was to her left, his familiar teal helmet scanning the area for threats. 058 guarded her opposite side, the lack of optical equipment on her helmet threw the younger Spartan for a loop. Lastly, there was her. Kelly-087, her squad mate, friend and lover, bobbed her dome-shaped helmet to an unknown beat. Being surrounded by her friends filled Sandra with warmth. No, friends didn't justify the true depth of their bond. They were her brothers and sisters, just as much as Raha. They were family.

The chilly February air washed over her as she exited the complex, filling her lungs with crisp air. The promenade spread out in a grassy field crisscrossed by gravel pathways that lead to the various structures and emplacements along the perimeter of the wall. Nestled neatly against several knolls was one of four landing pads that ferried people and materials in and out of the detention center. Fred and the others began making their way towards the only occupied pad, gravel crunching noisily under their titanium boots.

"Can't say I'm going to miss this place." Sandra thought out loud, waving back at a wide-eyed guard. "Not the worst few weeks I've ever had, but definitely in my top twenty-five." Fred snorted, amused. "Something funny, big guy?" He gave a subtle shake of the head, barely noticeable, even to her trained eye. Thought so. Climbing the short set of stairs leading to the polycrete landing platform, the four Spartans filed into the crew bay of the dropship as the bird's engines spooled up. As Linda crossed the threshold, she hit the hatch release, closing the gangplank with a hydraulic whir. As the others took their seats, Sandra took her usual spot next to Kelly. Outside, the noise of the engines rose to an angry roar as they pushed the heavy craft up into cloudy blue skies over Melbourne.

Surprisingly, Linda was the first to remove her helmet. Immediately, Sandra's gaze was drawn to the strands of cerulean blue that hung proudly beside her left eye, the polar opposite of her usual blood-red color. Sandra opened her mouth to ask about the sudden change in appearance, but a gentle bump of the shoulder closed it again. Kelly's message was clear: don't say anything. Linda looked uncomfortable, nervously glancing between the helmet in her hands and the blonde seated across from her. The sniper wasn't used to deviating from the path before her and it showed. Sandra gave her the warmest, brightest smile she could manage in a show of support. It seemed to do the trick as the sniper visibly relaxed.

"Glad to have Blue Team at full strength again." Linda said, giving the younger woman a hint of a smile in return.

"Agreed. Things were too quiet around her for my liking." Fred chimed in, completely engrossed in a data pad.

"Are…are you playing chess?" Kelly questioned, incredulous. He gave a succinct nod, not even glancing up from the device.

"Need to keep the mind sharp." He tapped his helmet to emphasize his point.

"I'll give you something sharp to think on." Kelly muttered darkly, but, thankfully, let the subject fall. Sandra cut into the conversation before knives started flying.

"Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but what's with the jailbreak?" Sandra asked, playfully bumping Kelly's shoulder. It was then that the door to the cockpit slid open, letting the final member of Blue Team step through. Quickly honing in on the youngest member of his team, Master Chief gave a quick nod in greeting.

"Twenty minutes till touchdown. Get prepped." With that, he returned to the cockpit, closing the door behind him. Linda and Kelly stood to retrieve their weapons from the mounts on the nearby wall, Fred tossed his pad into a nearby seat, following their lead. Turbulent winds shook the bird as it shot past the coastline and out over the Indian Ocean.

"Eyes up, Spartan." Linda called out, tossing a weapon to her when the blonde looked in her direction. Catching it midair, Sandra was surprised it wasn't the usual M6. "MK50 Sidekick. 12-round capacity. Drops a methane-eater easily enough, but you better have an extra mag or two if you come up against Elites." Linda commented, answering Blue 5's unspoken question.

"Or four, if they're Brutes." Fred added, securing an MA40 to his back, handing another one to Kelly's outstretched hand. Meanwhile, Linda settled for a battle rifle and the ever-familiar Nornfang. Satisfied, the resident sniper disappeared into the cockpit without another word. Fred stowed the last few magazines in a hardcase on his thigh before settling back into his seat and resuming his chess match. Whatever they were gearing up for, it was bound to be big. Blue Team didn't do milk runs.

"Are those my swords?" She asked Kelly, stopping the Spartan mid step. The twin hilts were clamped to the scout's thighs, patiently waiting to be unleashed against its wielder's enemies.

"Uh, yes they are." Kelly conceded, her posture stiff, like she'd been caught with her hand in the preverbal cookie jar. Reaching down, she removed one of them, intending to return them to their rightful owner, but Sandra held up a hand.

"No, it's alright. I trust you." Affection exploded in the veteran's chest. She loved Sandra deeply, but the woman didn't trust anyone to hold her blades as they held deep sentimental value. Well, at least until now.

"You sure?" Kelly questioned, resting Oathsworn into the seat beside her.

"Only if you promise to return them." She answered, purposely leaving out any sort of timeframe. She didn't want to place any undue pressure on her scout. Plus, the idea of her bunny using her blades in combat was…hot. The idea lingered for a tantalizing few seconds before being roughly shoved aside. This was neither the time nor place to entertain such fantasies.

"I'm still here, you know." Fred interjected, breaking the spell between the duo.

"You can be a real wet blanket sometimes, Fred." Kelly deadpanned, scowling behind her visor. Fred shrugged nonchalantly.

"Comes with babysitting you two. I can hear the gears turning in her head." Inclining his head in Sandra's direction, he tapped the pad a few times as he calculated his next move.

"Frederic," Kelly began. Fred's head perked up at the use of his full name. Kelly had only used it once before, during their training on Reach. The trainees were conducting a nighttime mock operation on the alpine cliffside of the Heartland Mountains. The rain the night before had made the ground slippery and treacherous. Fred slipped on a patch of ice he failed to spot and only Kelly's quick reflexes saved him from a fifty-foot plummet to his death. So, when she called him Frederic, he knew it was serious. "If you aren't quiet for the remainder of this flight, I will use these magnificent energy swords Sandra loaned me to run you through. Are we clear?"

The poor lieutenant was only partially able to repress the shiver that ran down his spine. "I outrank you." Fred stated simply, a thinly veiled attempt to hide the desperation in his voice and save at least some shred of pride. Kelly stared at him from behind her mirrored faceplate as Sandra tried her damnedest not to laugh. Eventually, Fred returned to his chess leaving the two women to their own devices. The rest of the ride passed in comfortable quiet, Sandra's head coming to rest against one of Kelly's titanium shoulder pauldrons.

The Pelican began its final descent towards one of the larger uninhabited islands that dotted the area between the southernmost tip of Australia and Antarctica. The colder temperatures combined with lack of soil nutrients left these patches of land rocky and barren, save for only the heartiest of greenery. Such poor conditions deterred any passing craft, which made it an apt location for ONI to set up a small satellite facility for tracking some of the more suspicious individuals who had relocated to Earth at the end of the Human-Covenant War.

Putting the dropship into a dive, Chief waited calmly in the pilot's seat, watching the dark sapphire mass of water grow larger with each passing second. Pulling the yoke back and reducing the amount of thrust, he leveled out just shy of twenty meters above the surface. The thrusters' jet wash churned the stillness beneath them into a frothing mass, coating the craft's underbelly with water. Pitching the bird's nose upward, Chief swung the aft vectoring thrusters downward and towards the nose to help bleed off speed as he crested the island's only hill and the complex came into view. If you could call it that.

Three titanium buildings, none of them much bigger than a Pelican, were jammed between a rocky outcropping and a collapsed satellite array that looked like it belonged in the 22nd century. The buildings looked to be abandoned, and for some time. Most of the windows were broken or missing altogether and any identifying markers had been eroded away by years of disuse. But all of it was just a front, a deception. According to the mission brief, much of the base was housed underground, where their operations would not be exposed. Activating the landing struts, he set the bird down on the flattest slab of bedrock he could see. Powering down the engines, he climbed out of the chair and followed Linda into the crew bay.

"Everyone ready?" Four green lights wink in response to his question, with Sandra giving him an affirmative thumbs-up. Kelly hit the hatch release and the cabin is immediately blasted with a cold, gritty wind. All five of them swiftly made their way across the uneven, silty terrain and into the smallest of the three structures. Stepping out of the wind, Sandra was finally able to settle her unruly hair. Really wishing I had my armor right about now. They stood in a small, semicircular atrium spread out before them. Rusted tables and chairs lay scattered about their feet, completely at the mercy of the elements. Two doors lay at the far end of the room, the control pads beside them corroded and caked with dirt.

"Uh, Chief? You sure they gave you the correct coordinates? This place looks like it hasn't seen a single soul in decades." Sandra asked, giving the receptionist's desk an uncertain look.

"That's the point, Spartan." A voice chimed in from the shadows, accelerating the blonde's heartbeat by a few tics. Materializing from an adjacent alcove, the man regarded Blue Team with a calculating gaze, much like a drill instructor sizing up potential recruits. Standing rigid as a pole, he carried an aura of confidence that only came from those who made the military their career. His crisp uniform outlined the well-built frame underneath but the lack of any insignia or rank left an uneasy feeling in Sandra's stomach. The man did not offer a hand in greeting or even his name, only waved for them to follow as he led the way towards one of the two doors behind the broken desk.

"I've got a bad feeling about this…" Sandra muttered as her gut twisted in agreement. This had ONI written all over it. None of the others said anything, but Kelly bumped her shoulder reassuringly. The door parted with a swiftness that beguiled its derelict appearance, leading to a long, natural walkway large enough to fit a Warthog. Up ahead, the path split into four different directions, one clearly leading upward while the others supposedly led deeper into the island. The unnamed officer took the second path from the left, his boots splashing through a small stream bisecting the tunnel. The six of them followed the winding corridors for what seemed like forever, never slowing his pace nor double checking their heading. Sandra guessed they were almost sixty meters down at this point, maybe more. whoever this officer was, they either used a map she couldn't see or spent enough time in these tunnels to create one from memory. Eventually though, the route leveled out, bringing them around one final corner. Two titanium doors stood at the end, nestled into the surrounding rockface, ignorant to the red moss slowly encroaching upon it.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant Commander." A monotonous voice greeted. The officer threw a dark look up into the shadows as the doors parted soundlessly to reveal a lift beyond. The car was not much more than a patchwork box welded together from spare scraps of metal with a haphazard hole cut for a window. It easily fit the entire group and with the brief screech of metal grinding against metal as the gate swung closed, they were on their way. Sandra spent the entire descent in worried silence, her mind a jumble with questions she was dying to ask. That is, assuming, she made it to the bottom. Alive. The elevator settled at the bottom of the shaft with a heavy clunk. Two ODSTs opened the rusted gate for them, saluting the Spartans as they passed. A dozen pairs of eyes tracked them as the large central cavern opened up before them. Over millions of years, the underground rivers flowing through the chalky limestone that made up the subterrain foundation of the island had carved a substantial void through the sedimentary rock. A group of cave enthusiasts had stumbled across it back in 2502 and ONI quickly swept in to use it for its own purposes. The Office of Naval Intelligence set about digging a series of complex tunnels to both hide its activities and provide the staff necessary accommodations and facilities. The entire network was then reinforced with TR steel, the material used in starship superstructures, to prevent any potential cave-ins or collapse. Their work had to be protected, after all.

Staff members and soldiers scampered back and forth like ants, carrying unmarked hard cases or burying their noses in a data pad. The chatter of the populace echoed off the high ceiling, intensifying the noise. Terminals beeped incessantly, vying for the limited attention of those gathered around. Off in the corner, almost completely enveloped in shadow, several figures conversed in hushed tones, pointing in Blue Team's direction. Sandra shoved her unease down as far as it would go, determined to ignore the sensation. Several squads of black armored ODSTs drilled on the opposite side of the cave, their chants driving a pang of longing through the blonde. That was her, once. But I'm in a much better place now, she thought, glancing at the armored figures around her. A large holotable sat in the center of the cavern, a star system splayed out above it. Several figures crowded around it, all wearing officer uniforms. They conversed with one another, occasionally gesturing to the display projected above them. One woman noticed the approaching group and raised her hand, bringing the discussion to a halt.

"Sorry about the ride down, Blue Team. That ancient thing is next on my replacement list, promise." She joked when they came within earshot. If the woman was bothered by the fact that no one appreciated or even acknowledged her joke, she didn't show it. She was fairly young, appearing to be not much older than Sandra herself. Her smooth, sun-kissed skin held a robust beauty which flowed like water over her athletic frame. Glossy, raven locks were pulled up behind her in a short ponytail, revealing the jagged twin scars which ran down the side of her throat. She saluted smartly, one which all six of them returned. "I'm Captain Khatri. Welcome to BLIND SAGE, Spartans. Take an open spot and we shall begin." The Spartans settled amongst the gathered officers, turning their attention to the holographic solar system slowly spinning above.

"Captain, I just can't fathom using such a small contingent for an operation as critical as BLIND SAGE. Surely, a battlegroup would be more effective-" A portly, balding man adorned in the traditional blue Air Force uniform called out. Kelly's HUD identified him as FILMORE, TAGGART. MAJOR, UNSC AIR FORCE.

"Not everything can be solved with a hammer, Major." Khatri responded hotly. From the sour look on her face, this was clearly not the first time they had argued this point. "Conventional warfare can only get you so far. Blue Team has proven, time and time again, that even the impossible is not out of reach. The enemy won't play by our rules. I see no reason to needlessly limit ourselves in such a way." Major Filmore shut his mouth, embarrassed at his blunder. "It's a moot point anyway. ONI only greenlit this op if we promised to keep the unit small. A battlegroup is quite the opposite. Wouldn't you agree, Major?" The man in question muttered something unintelligible but offered no further interruption. She looked to the gathered faces to sniff out additional dissidence, but none emerged. Throwing a final, lightning-quick glare at her sole interruption, she turned her gaze back to the map.

"The Lambda Aurigae system. Home to one habitable planet and little else, and our first destination."

"Our?" Fred queried before he could stop himself. The Captain turned to look at him, raising a brow in bemusement.

"The UNSC was kind enough to loan ONI one of its prowlers for this mission. You're looking at her captain." Khatri explained, figuring it best to get everything on the table now. The UNSC Stygian Embrace was hership. She wasn't about to let anyone swoop in and take it. Not even Spartans.

"Yes, ma'am." He responded succinctly, nodding in affirmation. She let out an inaudible sigh of relief. That was one less problem she'd have to deal with.

"Our target is the only one of note: Roost." The image zoomed in on the semi-tropical planet as information on its characteristics tallied up beside it. Kelly dismissed the data on her HUD with a thought, storing it for later. Her eyes naturally sought out the oceans of emerald on the other side of the display. For them, this planet held a much greater significance. This was where it all began. Where their beautiful relationship began to bloom. The butterflies in her stomach twitched in anticipation while that stupid smile she managed to hold off for weeks came back with a vengeance. Why is this so…exciting? Damn it, I don't want to be excited! Calm down, that's an order! But her body never listened when it came to Sandra. The blonde continually turned her insides upside down and her legs to jelly, even after three years. She just prayed that none of her brothers or sisters caught the minute hitch in her breath. Otherwise, she'd never hear the end of it. Kelly was only half listening as the Captain continued her briefing. "A few years ago, a Covenant splinter group laid waste to a UNSC research outpost tasked with studying Forerunner technology. There were no survivors. Since then, several small villages have sprouted up in the surrounding jungle as refugees fled the more populated systems." The hologram zoomed in on the largest continent, a lush strip of green dotted with a handful of blue dots that stretched almost three kilometers down the length of the Western coastline. "Recently, these settlements have gone dark with no explanation as to why. The UNSC sent a team to investigate, but we've had no contact since then. That was almost three weeks ago." The dots turned yellow.

"That's all we have to go on, ma'am?" Interjected Sandra. "Just a few huts that missed their check in and a search party gone quiet? No offence, Captain, but I'm not seeing the reason for Blue Team's intervention." Khatri nodded understandingly.

"A fair point. To answer your question, several telemetry probes were dropped at the edge of the system to identify who, if anyone was responsible. They managed to send these images shortly before they were destroyed with pinpoint accuracy." Surprise spread through the crowd like a brushfire on a dry savanna. The probes were small enough to fit in a briefcase and were nigh impossible to find, even if you knew what to look for. An image was thrown up beside the coastline for all to see. A blurry object floated vertically in the planet's newly created debris field, it's dark mass a blemish on the tropical world. Roughly the size of an assault rifle, when put into perspective that the image was taken from several thousand kilometers away, the object in question had to be massive. "The analysts suggested it could be Forerunner in origin, or perhaps some new Covenant vessel we've never seen before. Either way, ONI and the UNSC didn't want to risk any more personnel until they knew what they were up against. That's where you come in, Spartans." Sandra nodded, waiting for her to continue. "Our objective will be to find out why these villages went dark and, if possible, extract any survivors. Any questions?" Barring a few shared glances, nobody raised any issues. "Very well. Blue Team, Lieutenant Commander please follow me. The rest of you return to your stations. Dismissed."

The group broke apart, as officers of all branches scurried back to their stations. Kelly spotted Major Filmore as he stomped towards the elevator, a scowl plastered on his face. He did not look pleased in the least. Someone softly bumped her shoulder, bringing the scout's attention back to the matter at hand. Sandra was next to her, armed with that beaming smile she always wore.

The blonde jerked her head towards one of the larger offshoots where the rest of Blue Team were waiting. "Bit slow today, huh Kel? Am I just so stunning that I leave you starstruck?" She jested as they made their way over to the others. Allowing the new pet name to fill her with that familiar warmth, she waited until they had passed the bulk of the staff before responding.

"Like a runaway maglev train. You are a disaster in the making, Sandra." The blonde remained silent as they joined up with the others. Knowing her, it was only a matter of time until the scout was completely blindsided by whatever retort her lover cooked up. The Captain led them down a passageway wide enough to fit two Warthogs side by side. Exiting the other side, Chief and the others got their first look at the UNSC Stygian Embrace. The Winter-class prowler was the UNSC's most advanced stealth corvette, outfitted with the latest and greatest in sensor and propulsion technology. With a sleeker, more aerodynamic frame and swooped wings, this iteration of the prowler placed greater emphasis on speed and maneuverability. Given how most of Blue Team's operations tended to go south one way or another, they were going to need all the help they could get.

"She's been modified specifically for our mission." Khatri explained, listing off the improvements to the vessel. "Along with faster slipspace jumps and better cloaking tech, the Stygian Embrace also houses a medical bay, armor repair and refit facility and a larger berth for the crew. There are a host of minor alterations as well, but I won't bore you with the details. Get settled. The Lieutenant Commander and I will be along shortly."

"Affirmative, ma'am. We'll be ready." Chief responded dutifully, saluting their new commanding officer. The other Spartans quickly followed his example, snapping off practiced ones of their own. She returned it, swiftly retreating back down the tunnel. Not wasting any time, Master Chief led them into the belly of the prowler, following the painted markers towards the bow where the sleeping quarters were located.

"Well, if it isn't my five least favorite patients." A familiar voice called out from behind, halting their progress. "I take it none of you followed any of the medical advice I gave you?" She chided, her teal eyes melting through the titanium plating with little effort.

"Doctor Cassidy. The commander failed to mention that you were stationed in this facility." Chief said, looking away guiltily. The UNSC Infinity's resident xenobiologist was one of the few people who honestly terrified him when angry. Only Cortana and Sandra ranked higher on that list.

"No, Chief. I'll be joining you on this little escapade, so don't think for a second you can hide your injuries from me." She scanned over the rest of their faces, the polarized visors doing little to shield them from her intense gaze. "That goes for the rest of you as well. And if I find out you've been hiding anything from me, I will make your life very unpleasant. Are we clear, Blue Team?" The Spartans squirmed uncomfortably at the spotlight they suddenly found themselves under, but nodded their assent nonetheless. "Sandra," Cassidy addressed the youngest Spartan with a smile. "I have something for you. Please come with me." The blonde looked to the others, questions swirling within her emerald pools. Again, Linda was the first to speak up.

"Get situated with the doctor. We'll sort things out here."

"Save me a bunk." Sandra called out, voice fading as she rounded the corner.

The prowler was much larger than it appeared from the outside. Consisting of several decks, each level was designed to be as compact and economical as possible. The rest of the space was used to house the engines, FTL drive, weapons, cloaking system and the vast array of sensor and countermeasure systems. The lowest deck housed the troop bay and ready room, where teams could be quickly briefed on any changes to the parameters of their mission before being deployed. Mid-deck, hidden behind the bulk of the Stygian's armor, lay the crew quarters near the bow. Next was the armory, a narrow strip of titanium that extended from the midpoint of the vessel almost to the stern. It was encased in additional layers of Titanium-A armor to minimize the chances of a hull breach. The armor station and medical bay sat on either side, further cushioning the stockpile of ballistics and explosives. Bridget led the duo through the armory to the far end, taking the portside door to the refit and repair station.

Sandra caught sight of a body hunched over a screen, eyes scanning the vast amount of data that flowed through it. The figure looked up upon the sound of the opening door, a small smile gracing her aging face. "Dr. Cassidy, Spartan Wolfe. Just the people I was hoping to see." The xenobiologist returned her greeting with a simple nod, still unwilling to speak with the SPARTAN-II program director for any longer than was precisely necessary.

"You…were expecting us?" Sandra parroted, confused.

"Indeed. There is not much time before you depart and I would like to ensure the modifications synchronize properly." She gestured to the machine behind her. "Captain Lasky delivered all the appropriate materials before you arrived. Please change behind the curtain then step into the device." Excitement crackled through her like a bolt of lightning. She was donning armor again! Maybe it was even one of those new suits Kelly and the others wore. Regardless, she was just happy to be part of the team once more. Darting behind the barrier, she quickly stripped down, not bothering to hide her megawatt smile as she donned the familiar black techsuit. Covering the distance in just a few strides, the young Spartan stepped into the foot plates holding the armored pieces of her boots. Sticking her arms through the rings to grip the handholds, she flashed the doctors a welcoming, emboldened smile.

"Fire when ready, doc." Halsey booted up the armor application sequence.

The Brokkr Armor Mechanism was designed by ONI's Materials Group to expedite the application and removal of Mjolnir powered armor systems. The mechanism used a precise system of multi-axis rings and gyros to rotate and hold the user in place while the outer titanium shell was secured. For most armors, the process takes anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes. Sandra was in there for a little over three quarters of an hour thanks to the overlapping shoulder plates which had to be installed individually to maximize protection. Stepping out, she felt lighter than she had in weeks, despite being encased in almost half a ton of metal. Dr. Cassidy was waiting for her, holding out that all-to-familiar helmet. Taking it from her outstretched hands, she stared at the polarized visor for several moments. The things we've seen… Only when Halsey cleared her throat did she slip it over her head. As the last of the startup code faded a new message appeared, one she had never seen before.

TITANIUM ICARUS boot up sequence complete.

A six-note tone played through her helmet, so as only she could hear it.

I welcome you into the fold, Sandra.

It repeated once more.

Oly Oly Oxen Free.

The tone repeated for a third and final time.

Oly Oly Oxen Free. All out in the free. We're all free.

She turned to Halsey, bewildered. "Is this…" Halsey nodded, her lips stretching into a thin, genuine smile.

"John and the others trust you with their lives. I suppose it was time I did as well. This won't make up for everything I've done but I hope it's a start." She quickly switched topics, shaking away the lingering feeling of indignity her pride attempted to force down her throat. Sandra was just as much a Spartan as John or Kelly. It was only logical that she went as far for her as she did for Blue Team. "Now on to the matter at hand. TITANIUM ICARUS is a system-wide upgrade package for your suit. It improves shield strength, reaction time and adds several layers of heat-dissipating material to protect from plasma weapons. It's no GEN3, but it should make up for the technological gap just fine."

"Wait. Are you saying there's a third generation of Mjolnir armor?" She placed her hands on her hips, feeling a pang of longing run through her. Kelly still had her blades, Remnants of Betrayal, and though she trusted the woman with all she was, Sandra felt their absence deep within her. Shaking the feeling free, she continued. "Is that what Chief and the others are using? Can't say I'm not jealous."

Halsey took her comment in stride. "Only deployed to select units for battlefield testing, I'm afraid. Plus, purple wasn't an available color option. I checked." Sandra grunted, mildly annoyed that ONI hadn't thought to include her on their list of 'by-invitation-only' GEN3 testbed. Likely just another blow under the belt to emphasize their unspoken blame. But perhaps it was for the best. ONI had done their damnedest to sweep her, and the issues she had with them, under the rug. She sure as hell wasn't about to do them any favors.

"Maybe it's better this way…" She mused, acknowledging Halsey's lackluster attempt at humor with an unseen smile. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she got her first real look about the room. Hardcases ate up half the available space in the already cramped armor bay, her HUD informing her that a majority of them contained replacement parts for all five Mjolnir suits. It was reassuring to know that they'd brought spares for when things inevitably went sour. "Doctor Halsey, the SPARTAN-II program wasn't created with the Covenant in mind, was it?" The question left a noxious taste in her mouth, but it had been swimming around in her head for months and she wanted it gone.

The older woman looked up from the nearby console, suddenly looking twenty years older. The corners of her lips sank into a deep scowl and her eyes flashed darkly with an emotion Sandra couldn't place. "What makes you say that?" Despite the inquisitive nature of the question, the young Spartan got the feeling she had just stepped into a very nasty crosshair.

"It's a fairly pervasive rumor among the ODST's and other Spartans." Halsey nodded but didn't answer, staring off at the far wall in thought. Sandra shifted from foot to foot in anticipation. Her question was built on an amalgamation of snippets of her talks with Kelly, knowledge of the program and simple math. But even with all that, she wasn't sure Halsey would even give her a straight answer. Almost a full minute passed before Catherine cleared her throat to get the Spartan's attention.

"The S-II program was developed and enacted years before we knew of the Covenant's existence." A resounding yes without outright telling her. A clever way to cover both their asses should ONI poke its morally ambiguous nose into this particular conversation.

"Why?"

"I'm afraid that information is classified." Halsey rebuffed her question.

"No. What I mean is: why did they pick you? Why did you accept?" The anguish in Sandra's tone was palpable as she swept her hand around the room. Halsey almost burst out laughing, right then and there. For years, she had been searching for her own answer to that question. When ONI asked her to head the SPARTAN-II program in 2511, she had convinced herself she was doing it for the good of Humanity. Sacrificing the few to save the many. But now, looking back, she could easily see the folly of her youth. Whether she accepted because she constantly craved knowledge, desired to flaunt her intellect and ingenuity or she simply believed that she was saving countless lives, it didn't matter. In the end, her only concern was the safety of her Spartans.

"Believe it or not, I stayed for my Spartans. It was ONI's prized project. They weren't just going to shut it down because of one person's doubts, not even mine. If I left, they would have just picked someone else. Someone who didn't share in my concerns or my hesitation to ensure the project was successful…no matter the cost. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of, Spartan, but I would never willingly endanger John or the others." Every day the guilt continued to eat at her. Bit by bit, fleshy morsel by fleshy morsel. If not for the hope her Spartans instilled into others or watching as others built upon her research to create a lasting peace, she might have given up long ago. After all, you're only as old as you feel. Halsey was feeling about one hundred and twenty right now.

"I'm not sure whether to hit you or hug you." Sandra mused aloud.

Halsey released a brief chuckle. "That's a fairly normal response for people. Though offering to hug me is a new one."

"I take it you're not a hugger?" Sandra asked, closing the distance in a few strides to stand next to her.

"I'm not very fond of overt displays of affection, no." She answered, trying to hide her knowing smirk in the folds of her lab coat. She may be the most affectionate person, but that didn't necessarily mean she was against them either.

"Shame you didn't see Fred after his first hug." That comment grabbed the doctor's attention and Sandra depolarized her visor so Halsey could see the mirth swimming in her viridian pools. "Poor guy looked like he was about to pass out. And Linda!" Sandra laughed at the memory. "Linda looked like she wanted to murder me!"

Halsey's frown had disappeared, replaced with a thin, warm smile. "I'm surprised you're still breathing."

"Had she been able to wipe that twitch of a smile off her face, I wouldn't be!" Sandra clutched her side as laughter rolled off her in waves. "I was itching to give her another one, just to see what would happen, but Chief told me not to push my luck." Her laughter dwindled into fits of giggles before fading altogether at the unreadable look Halsey fixed her with.

"When we first met, I believed you to be a detriment to my Spartans. A cheap knock-off, either too blind or overconfident to see the potential damage you could cause. But as I watched you fight; it was becoming blatantly clear that the only fool…was me. John and the others were taught to adapt to any change-any complication-to complete their mission. But with you, they did so in a way I didn't expect."

Sandra was almost afraid to interrupt the woman in the middle of her apology, or as close to as she could reasonably get, but she had to know. "How so?" She asked.

"With most units, the newest member forms new habits around the others in order to properly assimilate and foster unit cohesion. Blue Team did the opposite. In combat, John is in command. But when off the field, they listen to you." Sandra was struck speechless. Kelly and the others would sometimes ask her a question or two, but for Halsey to allude that she could be in such a position… "Oh, don't act so surprised. Linda let you hug her, Sandra." Halsey paused for a moment to emphasize her point. "If she didn't, you'd be nursing two broken arms right now. You didn't just give them energy or strategies; you gave them back something cherished that I had stolen from them long ago. Sandra…you gave them back their humanity."

"I, no-but that's-couldn't…have…" The words flowed from her mouth like a rushing river, with no sense of beginning or end. Her deeds had been applauded before, even rewarded, but this felt so much more…monumental. Truly, she had never been more humbled, or grateful. Her eyes grew misty as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Blinking them away furiously, she graced the doctor with a blinding smile. "I…thank you, Doctor Halsey." There was no cutting remark or sardonic inflection in her tone, just simple, honest sincerity.

Though not nearly as bright, Catherine returned the gesture. "Just keep my Spartans safe. That's all the thanks I require." Sandra nodded resolutely, repolarizing her visor to hide the gratitude bubbling below the surface. Halsey cleared her throat pointedly to steer the conversation in a different direction. "Good luck, Sandra." Picking up the data pad she left nearby, Doctor Halsey exited the armor bay without another word.

Her HUD read 1745 hours local time. By her calculations, the Stygian Embrace wouldn't be leaving its berth for at least an hour. That was if she had already undergone the necessary refueling and resupply processes. If not…Amber would be in bed long before they would get underway. Man, wish I could call. See how our little angel is doing. Currently, the young Sangheili was staying with Indigo in a small studio flat in Sydney. With Sandra's other two childhood friends now having families of their own, Kelly hadn't wanted to overburden them, no matter how much they tried to convince her otherwise. Truly, a woman after my own heart. She thought with a smile. It was quickly torn from her face as something hit her in the head, offsetting her footing for an instant. The metal sang as it sailed through the air before landing with a clatter out of sight. Whipping around, she caught her attacker reaching for another wrench.

"The hell was that for?!" Feeling out the fresh divot in the back of her helmet.

Linda shifted her weight to her other foot, folding her arms across her chest in a very public display of annoyance. "I called your name. Four times. More drastic measures were required." Sandra looked away as embarrassment took its familiar course through her. Here she was running off at the mouth yet again, never thinking things through.

"Sorry, I-"

"It doesn't matter." Linda rebutted in a tone that indicated that it very much mattered. "Captain requested our presence on the bridge." She continued, jerking her head towards the door. The sniper exited the armory, her massive bulk taking up most of the hallway beyond. Throwing one last glance at the shattered remains of the data pad, she quickly extinguished her blades before catching up with her sister. The sniper's huge shift in demeanor was unnerving. Strands of hair were one thing, but this openness was something else. Linda was a lone wolf by nature. Neither seen nor heard until the moment she struck. The fact that she was taking the initiative in conversation was ringing every alarm bell in the younger Spartan's head.

"Linda," She began, falling into step with her combat sister. "Are you…alright?" Ignoring her question, the veteran accelerated her pace, eager to put some distance between them. Sandra frowned behind her visor. It was an innocent enough question. She wasn't being too pushy, was she? No, she reminded herself with a shake of the head Linda has always been like this. The only way I'm going to get any answers is if I pry them out. Praying she didn't just earn herself a one-way ticket out an airlock, Sandra covered the last few meters separating the duo from the lift and planted herself in front of it. Linda stopped just short, glowering down at the woman as her fingers twitched in agitation.

"This is no time for games, Blue Five." Linda had reverted to using her callsign. Crap. She knew she was in deep with no cover. It was only now starting to dawn on her just how deep she was.

Suffocating the urge to get the hell out of dodge, Sandra stood her ground. "I just want to talk. It will take two seconds." She raised her hands in an effort to sooth the seething redhead.

"We have our orders."

"Please?" Sandra pleaded, dropping the opacity in her visor to give the older woman an unimpeded view of the sincerity shimmering behind her veridian pools.

Linda huffed angrily through her nose, but relented. "You have exactly one minute."

She hadn't been throttled yet, so Sandra took it as a sign that things were headed in the right direction. "You don't seem yourself lately."

"Explain."

"Erm, well you are a lot more verbose than usual." She said, trying to explain herself without incurring the sniper's wrath. She'd seen firsthand just how deadly Linda's left hook was. That was an experience she would rather leave to her nightmares.

"And that is an issue? That I am talking too much?" The redhead retorted, a thin layer of ice covering her words. The small amount of tension that had bled from her body came rocketing back, pulling her muscles painfully taunt.

"Only if you're using it to cover for a bigger issue. Compartmentalization is all well and good, but locking your issues away only allows the problem to fester. I did the same thing for years and, trust me on this, it only made it worse."

Linda inclined her head to get a better look at the shorter Spartan, distaste pulling heavily on the corners of her lips. For much of her early years, Mendez had drilled compartmentalization into her and the other trainees during their time on Reach. He told them it would help them cope with the stresses of combat. Keep their emotions at arms-reach in order to maintain efficiency on the battlefield. Opening her mouth to speak, she promptly closed it as her stomach tied itself in fierce, painful knots. This openness is more difficult than I realized. After several unsuccessful attempts, she was able to force her tongue to cooperate, speaking in short, measured words. "My…dilemma rests outside my expertise and requires a skillset I do not possess." Her stomach heaved in complaint, but she ignored it. "Your assistance would be…appreciated." Each syllable that flowed through her helmet speaker was slow, as if asking for help physically pained the sniper.

Break off, Spartan! Break off now! Her mind screamed in horror as sweat began to pool in the small of Linda's back. She needed to reverse course and she had to do it now. Too late. Her stomach had given her multiple citations to cease and desist, all of which went unheeded. With one final, unpleasant roll, her stomach finally subsided, allowing her to take several calming breaths. Though the heavy knot of unease refused to budge, no matter how many mental curses the sniper threw its way. I need to reassess my approach. These…feelings need to go, before they render me combat ineffective.

"Do you need a moment?" Sandra questioned, stunned almost to the point of speechlessness. Oh Linda, this must be a real struggle for you. Perhaps I underestimated the extent of your internal conflict. She reached out to put a comforting hand on the veteran's shoulder but stopped, her fingers inches from her intended target. Linda doesn't appreciate physical contact. Right. A spike of anger lanced through her chest like a plasma sword, hot and painful. Nobody should be averse to comfort, especially after sacrificing so much. The blonde pushed that feeling aside, dropping her arm. It was neither the time nor place for such things. She was here to help Linda and she was going to do just that.

"Maybe table this discussion for later?" Linda questioned, viciously stomping down the embarrassment that desperately tried to crawl into her consciousness.

"Whatever you need." The blonde's voice filtered through her helmet's speakers, warm and understanding. Instead of bristling with annoyance, Linda found herself pleased at the pampering. Something was definitely wrong with her, but there wasn't enough time to figure it out. They had their orders. Coming to some unspoken understanding, Sandra stepped inside the elevator with Linda right behind. The duo ascended in silence, nowhere near as jarring as the one that brought them down into the base. The system chirped happily, letting the occupants know they had reached their destination. The bridge was a flurry of activity as the crew made final preparations for launch. An impressive feat for such a small area. Much of the triangular room was occupied by the various control stations, all of which were situated on a slightly lower platform that ran along the perimeter. Crewmembers manning the Weapons Control and Communications stations typed away at a hurried pace, data scrolling across their screens at a dizzying rate. Across the room were Surveillance and Navigation, talking animatedly about the vessel's newest modifications as they fed their readouts to the other personnel. All of this was under the watchful eye of the Lieutenant Commander, who stood statuesque at the top of the gently sloping floor. Sandra still didn't know his name, something which continued to irk her. She liked knowing who she was serving with. All this ONI secrecy left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Ma'am, Spartans 058 and Wolfe reporting as ordered." Linda announced, coming to attention as soon as she was clear of the doors. Sandra mirrored her movements like a shadow. Anticipation wafted through the room, piggybacking on the well-rested, focused gazes of everyone within. Everyone was eager to get underway. Captain Khatri quickly finished her conversation with John before turning her attention to the newest arrivals.

"At ease, Spartans." She said, her gaze boring into their armor like a drill. "I just wanted to say a few words about our mission then you are free to go." Blue team nodded in understanding. While the fanfare was unusual, the Prowler Corps tended to operate differently than the rest of ONI. "Lieutenant Commander, are we ready?" He pulled his attention from the crewmembers below, turning to meet her gaze.

"Yes ma'am," His voice was rough and steady, just like rock. Sandra had the feeling this crew was some of the best ONI had to offer. "Preparations are complete and the hangar is clear. On your word, Captain." She opened her mouth to say something, paused for a moment before closing it again. With a shake of her head, she gave the order. It was quiet at first, almost a whisper. But with each passing second it grew louder and louder, as the Baffled fusion drives effortlessly spun up to full power. Now comfortably settled into their rhythm, the drives were as noisy as a soft midnight breeze.

The feeling of weightlessness flowed over Kelly as the prowler retracted its landing struts, now operating under its own power. Stygian Embrace rocketed out of the hangar and adjoining launch tunnel, finding itself climbing into the clouds over the Southern Ocean. The acceleration pulled at her back, but unlike some of her other experiences, this one was gentle, smooth. Like the touch of a lover. She felt a presence settle in beside her. Speak of the devil and she shall appear. The private channel request announced itself in the bottom corner of her HUD. Accepting it without hesitation, her love's beautiful voice surrounded her.

"Did I get a bunk?"

"Across from mine." She chanced a glance at her partner. Clad in the deep purple armor she's come to know so well, Sandra cut quite an imposing figure. Any seven-foot-tall human in a thousand pounds of MJOLNIR armor would. But Sandra somehow made the Sangheili-derived suit of power armor alluring and sexy. Curves in all the right places. Kelly had noted every burn mark, memorized every gouge. The one on the back of her head definitely wasn't there before. "Who hit you on the head?"

"I would really rather be in your bunk"

"You didn't answer my question." Kelly responded, completely unfazed. Well, mostly unfazed. Her body had a mind of its own when it came to the blonde.

"Your sister threw a wrench at me. At least, I think it was? Rang my bell pretty good."

"What did you do this time?" She heard the subtle shift of the armor plates as Sandra looked up.

"How is this my fault?"

Kelly had to fight the urge to sigh loudly. How did she ever fall for this idiot? "Because pissing her off seems to be your priority objective. I wasn't assuming, merely selecting the most reasonable conclusion given the facts."

"You sound like Halsey."

"Am I wrong?" Kelly challenged.

"…No."

"Blue Team," Khatri began, turning to face the Spartans and pulling Kelly's attention back to the matter at hand. "This was not the first colony we lost contact with."

"How many in total, ma'am?" Fred spoke up, the small hitch of his shoulders speaking volumes. He wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the proverbial bomb that now hung above their heads.

"Twenty-two. That we know of." A sense of unease settled over Blue Team like a wet blanket, attempting to douse the flames of anticipation that burned brightly only moments before.

"Just the first one under UNSC control." Sandra added unhelpfully. Mercifully, her tone lacked scorn or venom. That would have landed her in the brig. Or out the nearest airlock.

"This isn't a fantasy, Spartan." Khatri responded coldly, her words like hardened ice. They had the desired effect, cutting off any retort the blonde had loaded up. "Intel suggested they had been taken out by friendly forces. Nothing to suggest something of unknown origin. I'm going to be honest with you. We're going in blind. No intel, no back up and no clue of what might be lying in wait."

"Understood, Captain. We'll make it work."

"Good. Dismissed." If John was bothered by the abrupt dismissal, he kept it close to his chest. She and the others turned to leave but the Captain halted her advance. "Spartan Wolfe, please remain here. There is something I wish to discuss. You too, zero-eight-seven." The two women shared an unseen glance as the rest of their team filed into the lift, albeit with some hesitation. "Everyone else, take five. That's an order, Lieutenant Commander." She quickly amended before her XO could voice any opposition. Empty, the bridge suddenly felt lifeless; like the ship's soul had been sucked right out the airlock. The Captain stared the two Spartans down, her dark chocolate eyes were hard and unmalleable, like onyx. "If I had known about your relationship before this operation began, neither one of you would be on my ship. Unfortunately, this isn't the Infinity; there is no one to replace you."

"Ma'am, with all due respect-" Kelly began, but she was interrupted mid-sentence.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" Khatri snapped, glaring at the older veteran with what she could only be described as disdain. She'd known this woman for less than a day! How did she already manage to get on her bad side? Straightening her uniform, she continued. "Let me be clear: there will be absolutely zero PDA on my ship. I expect you to control yourselves and act with conduct becoming of your station. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. Understood." The commandos answered in unison.

Captain Khatri looked between them for a few seconds before nodding, satisfied. "Then you are dismissed." Saluting sharply, they turned about-face and silently entered the lift. It wasn't till the doors closed and the car began its descent that Kelly trusted herself to speak.

"That was certainly…interesting." She spoke over their private channel, grinding her teeth angrily.

"What a killjoy. You know what? I think she's jealous. And lonely."

Kelly rolled her eyes hard enough to move her head. "You think anyone without a hyperactive libido is lonely.

"No, I just don't like people telling me what I can and can't do."

"You do know we are in the military, right? Orders are our bread and butter."

"Funny. You know what I mean." Unfortunately, Kelly did. No one on the Infinity seemed to have a problem with it. Both of them had made sure to keep it covert; only a select few even knew. This was why they had kept it from ONI as long as they could. For fear something like this would happen. All told, that conversation could have ended much worse. Kelly had seen drastic shifts in mood before, in combat veterans. Cold sweats, nightmares, flares in temperament, all signs of a deeper issue at play. From the Captain's display, it was reasonable to assume that something about the two veterans had triggered a painful memory. They were just the unfortunate recipients of her ire. Either that, or she was naturally this way and this deployment is going to really suck. But it won't be all bad. She gave Sandra a sideways glance as a smile crept onto her face and refused to leave. I have you.

Shit! In all the chaos she had almost forgotten what day it was! "I'm so sorry Sandra! I completely forgot that it was today. Happy birthday, my little wolf pup." Most observant Spartan, my ass! Can't even remember my partner's birthday.

Sandra bumped her shoulder, silently accepting the apology. "Aw, thanks bunny. Too bad about the whole 'no public displays' thing. Otherwise, I'd rip that armor off and give you a 'chewing out' like you wouldn't believe." Impure thoughts flooded the veteran's mind like the raging tide, drowning her implants' attempts to stabilize her biological state. All the while, Sandra's joyful laughter rang in her ears, distracting the scout from the fact her complexion was now the same color as a tomato. Me and my big mouth.

Welcome to the Third Installment of the Rabbit and the Wolfe Trilogy!

Hope you all enjoyed the introduction to the third arc of the story! I hope you're prepared for a wild ride because blood will be spilled, tears will be shed and new characters will be introduced. I know the Captain is being unfair but there is a reason for it, which will be explained later. Don't forget to follow, favorite and review. Your feedback is greatly appreciated!