AN: Hello Spartans!
I again apologize for the lack of recent updates. This time I'd say that is mostly due to preparations for RTX 2017 taking me a way too long. I completed Rev B of a cosplay loosely based on LT. Brandon's armor in under a month(record time for me) but unfortunately that needed up taking a tole on almost EVERYTHING in my life. Now, however, I should be back on track.
As promised, this chapter will feature Espionage, romance, intrigue, angst, and special guests. I hope you enjoy.
"No combat ready unit has ever passed inspection,"
-Excerpt from Murphy's Laws of Combat Operations
Location: UNSC Murphy's Law, standoff distance from Forerunner installation X50, 05:30 hours standard military time. January 9th, 2559.
Alison woke gently for the first time in ages. Usually her mornings involved a violent dream, jerking awake, a cold sweat, and a bone chilling ache that would last long into her day.
Alison open her eyes slowly and stretched out on the grass. She was laying in the soft grass of Taurus VI with her head in David's lap, her hand intertwined with his as they stared off into the distance. The URF banner that once flew over the small town in the distance was gone, and the UNSC flag hadn't replaced it. A red sundress with a pattern of green stemmed roses replaced her uniform. David wore a pair of casual slacks and shirt that fit him a lot better than his baggy ACUs. His dark circles were gone, and so was the haunted look in his eyes. His hair had grown out from his buzz cut and was now a curly mop. The warm breeze caressed her skin freely, yet she didn't feel threatened by her lack of armor. Soft words of love from David found their way to her and soothed her eyes closed. Somehow in this world she was safe for a little while. It was like the war had never come to Taurus VI. For a moment, she swore it was like the war never came to her.
Eventually she opened her eyes and found the cold interior of the Murphy's Law staring back at her. Even so, the realization that life would march on didn't hit her so hard. A gentle warmth of the one she loved comforted her as her eyes fell upon the cold, dark interior of a warship once again. He had rolled off of her. His hands felt cold draped over her augmented body, so she decided to help him warm them up.
She rolled over onto her side and placed one hand between her head and the pillow, and folded his other hand into hers. David began to stir.
After a moment David began to drunkenly return the kiss, before she pulled away and his eyes slowly opened. His eyes lit up and a smile crossed his face as he opened his eyes.
"Hey beautiful," he said with a lopsided grin.
Alison rolled her eyes and got back to kissing him. He threaded a hand gently into her messy hair and gladly accepted. Alison once again forgot where she really was. All she felt was cool air, soft sheets, and David. For all she knew she was back on that fantasy world she dreamed up for herself.
"How'd you sleep?" He asked when she pulled away.
"Fine," said Alison with a sleepy smile. "I dreamed about something good for the first time in ages. It was about us, back on Taurus VI, after all this is over. The URF left and we were laying in the grass watching the sunset..."
Alison stopped herself before her rambling continued any further. Her nerves got the better of her once again as she realized she was talking about plans Brandon never agreed to. What if he didn't want that? What if he didn't care to see her again after this mission?
Her fear were put to rest when Brandon began to run a hand up and down her bare back, occasionally tracing a scar with his finger tips. Alison wasn't as scared of letting him see or touch her damaged skin anymore. Thoughts of rejection still nagged her in the back of her mind, but they were fading.
"That sounds wonderful," he whispered.
Alison smiled down at him. Why did she ever doubt him?
She leaned back and stretched to shrug off the lethargy of the morning, sighing as she felt her back crack and her muscles ease out of slumber. When she opened her eyes to look down at Brandon she noticed him watching her intently as she inadvertently showed off her cleavage for him.
"It's not polite to stare," she said. She almost blushed, but managed to keep her cool.
Brandon laughed and sat up next to her, resting his hands on her waist.
"You're making it hard not to."
Alison once again rolled her eyes and pulled him into an embrace until his face was only inches from hers.
"Brandon. Oh, shit..." Alison tried to fight back the embarrassment that came from her using his last name once again. It just didn't seem to be proper to use a title usually associated with military formality at a time like this.
"David." she corrected herself.
Brandon laughed lightly, in the sort of way that told her he really didn't care what she called him.
Alison rolled her eyes and continued with what she was trying to say.
"I forgot to tell you last night. I meant to say I..."
Alison's throat went dry a moment before she could let out the three words that David used to change her life. It didn't help that the look of pride plastered on his face told her he knew exactly what she wanted to say. He used her moment of silence to lean in and steal a quick kiss.
Alison glared at him. She wasn't really angry, it was a sweet action, but so damn...annoying? Defiant? Why did she even care?
Oh well, she'd get him back for that later.
Alison tried to clear her throat before finally finishing her thought.
"I love you." Her voice was hoarse and nervous like a fresh recruit trying to address a drill sergeant who hadn't yet finished telling them how many ways he was going to rip them a new asshole. What part of her gave her the audacity to pin an officer to the wall and make out with him yet wouldn't allow her to tell him she loved him?
Brandon smiled sweetly at her and leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"I love you too," he said back gently.
Once again she felt the same not-quite-anger mixed with pleasure feeling that annoyed her to no end. She wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to kiss him or punch him.
Alison smirked. It didn't really matter. He'd end up with the same number of bruises either way.
She bravely leaned down and sealed her lips to his neck, new territory for her. Brandon fidgeted and moaned. Clearly this was a sensitive spot for him. She placed a few, probing kisses before finally deciding to turn the tables on him and bite down hard on the sensitive skin.
Brandon yelled in pain and pulled her closer as Alison let out a low laugh. His reaction was curious. It had been painful for him, yet he'd still pulled her closer as though he'd liked it. She'd have to play around with this a little more in the future.
She pulled back a little bit and gave him an evil grin, before resting her head on his shoulder and taking in a deep breath. This sure was a helluva a way to start her morning.
"We don't have a whole lot of time. The ODSTs will be here soon. We should get ready," he said with a hint of sadness in his voice.
Alison frowned, and almost instinctively wrapped her arms around David a little tighter. She didn't want this to end. She didn't want him more than a foot away from her ever again. Guilt replaced her euphoria as she realized she was actively trying to avoid her duties. Service to the UNSC was her entire life. How could she neglect it for her own pleasure? Brandon's lips on her cheek banished the guilt.
She pulled away and cupped his face, looking him in the eyes. He was exhausted, but there was also something else behind his eyes.
Alison frowned. She knew what he was thinking about. Those ODSTs that he was about to meet for the first time would also be heading into combat with him in the next five hours. This was the first real battle he'd been in since his last encounter with the Covenant on reach. She wasn't sure what it would do to him if he lost them...Or if he lost her. She needed to remember that her life didn't only matter to herself now. If she got hurt, or died, he would be heartbroken.
"Hey, Brandon," she said, bringing his forehead to meet hers.
"Yeah?" he asked and closed his eyes.
"It's all gonna be alright," she said softly. "You, me, everyone. We're all gonna be fine. We're just going in to take out some low level terrorists. We can handle it."
Brandon said nothing for a long minute. Just breathing as his grip on her shoulders tightened.
"I can't..." he said, before his words caught in his throat. "I can't even think about that."
Alison nodded and pulled him close into a secure hug. They held there for what was probably half a minute, but it seemed like an eternity to both of them. It had been a long time since either one of them had a simple moment of compassion like that. For Alison it was completely foreign, for Brandon it was nostalgic in a way.
He remembered, for a moment, Christine's face, an image that would forever be etched into his mind. Somehow, he knew that from some other plane of existence, she was watching this right now. And she would love Alison. She didn't have an angry or jealous bone in her body.
"She's such a sweet girl, David," she would say to him with a serene smile, if they ever met again in the afterlife. "I'm sure you'll take good care of her."
Brandon's mind melted back into the present and into Alison's gaze. She noticed he was spaced out, but still held him, searching his face for clues.
"Hey," said Alison after a moment. "We don't have long before the ODSTs get here, so unless you want them to catch you in the shower with me, we better get going."
Brandon's eyes went wide at the suggestion, and Alison gave him a sly grin. He returned the grin a moment later, before pulling her into a kiss. Alison laughed and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him to his feet. The two of them quickly dressed before sneaking off into the corridors of the Murphy's law. Like most ships, the 'Law had separate showers for enlisted and junior officers.
I guess being the only junior officer has perks sometimes.
Location: UNSC Murphy's Law, standoff distance from Forerunner installation X50, 06:15 hours standard military time. January 9th, 2559.
When Brandon and Alison reached the armory to get ready BB was waiting for them and requisitioned suppressors and active camo modules for both of them. Brandon knew the equipment would come in handy, but the fact he even needed it at all made him a little uneasy.
He wasn't used to this kind of operation. As part of an airborne regiment he'd trained long ago for drops behind enemy lines, but in practice he'd rarely used any kind of stealth while fighting the covenant. Most of his battles involved orbital artillery strikes, massive open combat against wave after wave of disposable covenant infantry, and armored support if he was lucky.
Even more unnerving was the fact that BB immediately addressed the fact that he was wearing only his vac suit, and offered to find him a new pair of ACUs if he was missing his own. Brandon cringed. BB obviously knew what was going on between him and Alison, and that meant Osman knew, which left him begging the question of why he hadn't died a horrible death.
He looked to Alison, and Alison looked back to him. She didn't look nearly as worried, but then again Osman was her Spartan sister. Hopefully she was confident she could talk her down.
Brandon pulled on a new set of ACUs, secured his armor, and picked up his weapon. He walked out of the armory, followed by Alison, at the same moment Mal and Vaz walked in. They gave them a funny look, but that was normal. They'd thought something was going on for a long time, even when nothing was going on.
He felt Alison's hand bump into his shoulder on the way to the hangar, and he turned to look up at her. Her impassive visor was staring back at him, but the action was clear.
It'll be alright.
And he believed every unspoken word of it.
Brandon examined the hangar and noticed little out of place other than Devereaux's missing pelican and Osman pacing impatiently near the hangar bay door. She looked up as the two of them entered the hangar.
"Lieutenant!"
Fuck.
He ran to the other side of the hangar and snapped to attention.
"Yes, Admiral," he said
He left his helmet on to conceal his facial expressions. Maybe it would also give him a few more seconds of life.
"The ODSTs will be arriving in the hour. Is everyone else ready?"
Brandon nodded. "Yes Admiral. The ODSTs are armoring up as we speak, and Alison and I are ready to go."
Brandon might have been looking a little too hard, but he swore he saw a flash of something into the Admiral's eyes when he said 'Alison and I.' He wasn't sure what something was, but he took a guess that it wasn't good.
"Good," she continued. "Meet me on the bridge to review the plan one last time."
Brandon followed the Admiral to the bridge. He doubted she was going to kill him, or even court-martial him, at least for now. He had an operation to lead in an hour, but that didn't mean her revenge wouldn't come to pass eventually.
The meeting went off without a problem. They talked over the plan, confirmed details, and then quickly cut the briefing short when BB broadcasted over the PA that the ODSTs were about to arrive.
Brandon, however, couldn't shake the feeling that Osman was giving him dirty looks. It would be his luck that this would go wrong. Everyone he'd known and loved was dead or estranged. He'd just be adding Alison to a long list.
When he and the Admiral finally returned to the hangar to greet the ODSTs, he saw Alison standing very close to the hangar's energy shield, Almost dangerously close. She also had her helmet off in the hangar, which was against regulation unless the metal blast door was closed.
He glanced up at her icy blue eyes as they stared out blankly into the blackness of space. She looked anxious. Maybe excited? It wasn't an emotion he'd seen on her before.
She glanced down at him as he appeared in her peripheral vision and smiled at him a little wider than usual. Maybe it was left over from last night, but something about her seemed more restless than usual.
"What's going on?" He asked.
Alison paused, clenching and unclenching her armored fists slowly.
"Someone I used to know very well is coming on this mission with us," she said simply.
The corner of Brandon's mouth turned up. Alison had suffered enough tragedy this week. It'd be good for her to finally meet an old friend.
"Another Spartan?" He asked.
Alison nodded, before she continued. "Naomi-010. She was always the quiet one out of our group, but we got along pretty well."
Brandon almost laughed at the notion of a Spartan who was more quiet than Alison. When Alison was finished with her sentence she once again returned to staring out at the blackness of spacer.
"I love you," Brandon whispered.
Alison glanced down at him for another brief moment and let her tense facial features relax.
"I love you, too."
The too of them wrapped up their conversation just in time for them to hear the hangar alarm go off. Mal, Vaz, and the Admiral's running boots approached them from behind as a hole the shape of a pelican from the nose on appeared in the hangar's energy shield. Halfway through the shield the pelican decloaked in a shimmer of blue light as it's hexagonal baffling panels deactivated, before landing softly onto the deck.
The rear door swung open with a hiss, and out stepped a dark blue armored form not all that different from Alison, with the numbers 010 emblazoned on her chest piece. She was followed by a fully armed complement of ODSTs, an aircrew, and Devereaux, but all the crew's eyes were clearly fixed on the armored demi-goddess before them.
Alison immediately began walking towards her. To anyone else her stride would have looked methodical and confident, but it was her urgency and excitement in her facial features that told Brandon she was bursting with excitement.
She approached the other Spartan, and wordlessly reached up to swipe two fingers across her face plate. Brandon could tell this was a very personal gesture. He knew how trusting a Spartan needed to be of someone to allow even the smallest amount of physical contact.
The other Spartan reached up and removed her helmet, revealing her small smile, her icy gray eyes, and allowing her blonde hair to fall from underneath it.
"It's been a long time," said Naomi.
"Too long," responded Alison.
Brandon knew her well enough to hear the hint of nostalgia in her tone.
Naomi nodded.
"All that time hasn't made you rusty has it?" She said.
"Not exactly," responded Alison. "Some of us had a war to fight. While you were resting and getting fitted with fancy gear."
Naomi rolled her eyes.
"Well, I guess I'm back to where I belong then."
Brandon smiled at the reunion, but noticed Naomi's eyes were searching the room for something other than Alison. Eventually she stopped when her eyes settled on a figure moving towards her out of the crowd of ODSTs.
"Vaz!" She blurted out, almost excitedly.
But he didn't seem quite so enthusiastic about seeing her.
As Brandon watched Vasily approach the newly disembarked Spartan, he began to notice the reluctance with which the ODST approached her. He seemed to air on the side of caution, as though wondering whether she would accept him or not.
Alison stood back from the two of them and let the interaction run its course. She assumed a vaguely defensive posture in case she needed to protect her sister, but didn't seem ready to try and mediate between the two. This wasn't her area of expertise.
Vaz looked deeply hurt. Whatever had really gone on between these two cut him brutally. Now he was picking up the pieces.
He lowered his head, almost as though he was bowing, and whispered something to Naomi that Brandon could only assume must have been an apology of some sort. He tensed, as though bracing himself for a physical punch, or at very least a torrent of hurtful words.
What he got was quite the opposite.
Naomi smiled down at him, and a look as close to elation as Brandon had ever seen cross a Spartan's face blossomed over hers. She reached down and took hold of his wrist with a strong, almost possessive grip. Brandon knew that it was an intimate gesture, unique to Spartans and their unfamiliarity with human contact. Naomi said something to Vasily that Brandon could neither hear nor lip read, but he knew that, whatever she said, it meant that Vaz's apology wasn't needed.
Vaz's looked up at her and smiled, holding her joyful gaze for a moment longer. Had they been somewhere more intimate and hidden, Brandon knew that neither one of them would still be sitting and staring, but this was still a warship, and some rules had to be followed. Brandon took this as his cue to approach the group. Alison smiled as she watched him approach.
"Lieutenant, sir!" Said Naomi as she snapped to attention.
"As you were Spartan," he said, and she seemed to relax slightly, but still looked on him carefully as an outsider.
"Naomi," said Alison, "I'd like you to meet Lieutenant David Brandon."
Then she reached down and made the same two finger swiping motion across his face, as though to say to Naomi "he's mine."
Naomi's eyes went wide, and then narrow as she began to scrutinize the Lieutenant. Her laser beam eyes dissected every last inch of him and scrutinize him for any possible imperfection. He felt very self conscious of any dings or scrapes that he might have on his armor.
Naomi glanced back at Alison and cocked her head to the side as if to say "you could've done better."
Alison glanced down to Vaz and then raised her eyebrow in return, as if to say "and you did?"
The two of them shared a small laugh before Naomi once again returned her attention to the Lieutenant.
"It's nice to meet you," said Naomi. "I look forward to serving under you."
Brandon was still getting used to the notion of someone who was seven foot two serving under him, but decided to shrug it off.
He nodded, and then motioned for Alison to follow him over to the group of ODSTs that had already unloaded most of their gear onto the hangar's deck.
"Did I pass the test?" He asked as he was walking.
Alison shrugged.
"Only time will tell. Naomi is a tough one to please though."
Brandon laughed slightly.
"Good thing you're the only one I need to please"
Alison raised an eyebrow and looked at him in confusion. She looked like she was ready to ask what she meant, but stopped when she saw the obvious grin on the Lieutenant's face. She rolled her eyes before setting them forward once again.
Brandon glanced around the group of ODSTs, looking for their leader, until his eyes settled on a veteran ODST with a sergeant major emblem painted onto her chest piece. Her armor had red and white accents that made designs reminiscent of bones and blood. Her recon helmet, marked with hollow, skull like eyes and sharp, shark like teeth, showed that this probably wasn't her first time working for ONI. Her raised voice cut through the rowdy group of spec ops soldiers while her piercing green eyes pinned down anything that wasn't too her liking. A twin pair of small combat knives was tucked into a sheath that was woven intricately into her auburn hair, and a large, jagged scar ran over one of her eyes.
Despite all of these visually distinguishing features, however, the most eye catching part of her was what was missing from her. Both of her legs, from the knee down, were replaced with skeletal looking robotic prosthetics with pieces of ODST armor and a pair of ODST boots welded onto them.
Brandon didn't let her injuries fool him, however. This woman was clearly deadly.
As Brandon approached she snapped to attention as well.
"Lieutenant, sir!" She said as though she was echoing Naomi.
"At ease trooper," he responded.
The ODST complied and then glanced over to the Spartan standing next to him. A look of contempt came over her that she didn't even remotely try to hide. Alison didn't react to it. She was probably too accustomed to the old Spartan-ODST rivalry to care.
"Master Sergeant Willow Mathews, 105th ODSTs. I take it you'll be our lead on this mission?"
Brandon nodded. "I will. Have you been briefed on the mission?"
Willow shook her head.
"No. We stopped asking questions the moment we heard 'ONI' come out of your pilot's mouth. I would've at least liked to have been briefed before the Army thought," she said with a bit of good nature spite.
Brandon sighed. He should have seen that one coming.
While Brandon got underway briefing the new ODSTs, Alison sat down on a crate and began to load a spare pistol magazine while she watched Brandon converse. He was, what? Ten feet away from her, and still she wanted him closer. She wanted him right back next to her, intertwined with her and kissing her. How would she ever manage a distraction like this?
And the thought of him talking to someone like this Willow Mathews made her blood boil. Why was she so upset? He loved her, and he was simply talking to another woman, but still this newfound jealousy boiled inside her.
She put on her helmet to hide her expression from any onlookers.
She felt a tap on her forearm plate and looked to see Devereaux standing next to her. For whatever reason, she had a shining smile on her face.
"Wow, you must've had a good time last night. I can tell you're freshly fucked even through that visor of yours," said Devereaux with a lopsided grin.
Alison's heart skipped a beat as she nearly jumped in surprise, and then immediately turned to anger. How could it possibly be that obvious. Did sex have physical symptoms?
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said with biting anger in her voice.
Devereaux laughed and rolled her eyes.
"Oh please. I've seen you staring at him this entire time. Your visor has been fixated on him and that new ODST chick for five minutes straight. Clearly you don't have enough faith that he won't run away with her. Also..."
Devereaux pointed at the magazine Alison was loading. At first Alison didn't see what she was looking at, but a second later she was once again flooded with horror and anger.
"You've put your rounds in the magazine backwards," whispered Devereaux in a playfully sarcastic tone.
Alison ripped off her helmet and barred her teeth at the crass ODST. How could someone have the nerve to jeer about something so intimate to her?
Alison realized how out of character the action was a moment later. She'd never remove her helmet out of anger. Maybe she'd slam it into her enemy's head, but never remove it. What had gotten into her?
Devereaux's attention moved back to Brandon for the moment.
"Oh, and he's even worse than you are," she said with a small laugh.
"He's just like Vaz was after his first night with Naomi. He isn't walking correctly and he's rubbing his wrists every few moments which means they must be pretty sore..."
Devereaux flashed her a sideways grin.
"So did you tie him up or just hold him down?"
Alison's skin was the color of her armor, and she wasn't sure if that was because she was more embarrassed than she had ever been in her life, or because it was taking all her strength to stop herself from tearing Devereaux's head off.
The ODST gave Alison one last casual smile before sitting down onto a crate next to her, leaving Alison to simmer in her rage. That was until Brandon appeared in her peripheral vision. He gave her a quick smile as he passed, and somehow that was enough to soothe her anger, at least for the moment.
The lieutenant and the master sergeant made their way over to admiral Osman, who was standing near the parked pelican. The three of them exchanged formalities and conversed for a brief moment, before the admiral called the ODSTs and Spartans over to her. Without question, they all lined up in formation with the two Spartans in the front, while Osman stood on a crate in front of the formation, flanked by Willow and Brandon, ready to give her speech.
The ODSTs tensed as the most powerful woman in the UNSC prepared to address them. They were all just soldiers like him. They knew nothing of the motivations of people like the admiral. Only that those motivations usually caused them to wind up dead.
Osman looked to sergeant Mathews, who nodded back to her.
"Attention on deck," called the ODST, not that there was anyone who was noticeably relaxed.
"Good morning troopers. I know this assignment came on short notice for all of you, but I've been told short notice is what ODSTs do best."
She paused for a moment to allow for a resounding chorus of "OORAH!"
Brandon saw Osman's face tense like she wanted to smirk, but never quite got there. Brandon activated a portable holographic projector and threw up a map of the URF compound, as well as a hologram of the AI containment devices they were after. She never told the ODSTs what they were, just that they were dangerous
The admiral explained that the kilo five team would assault the compound while a small team of ODSTs lead by sergeant Mathews broke off and searched for where the United Rebel Front is extracting these devices. The remaining ODSTs would stay on station and cloaked in case either team needed backup.
Lastly, she displayed a hologram of Daniel Ramirez, which thoroughly surprised Brandon. He saw Alison shift uncomfortably in formation in front of the admiral, much more than her typical rigid straight posture would usually allow.
"Your last target is this man, Daniel Ramirez. He is a known traitor to the UNSC and is suspected to be in charge of this URF outfit. If you see him, bring him in for questioning, but if capture is impossible, shoot to kill."
Brandon smirked. He knew there wouldn't be any questioning involved if the Admiral, or Alison, got a hold of that man.
He looked at Alison, and she turned her helmet just enough to acknowledge that she was looking back. He gave her a comforting smile, and saw Naomi bump her hand into Alison's as comforting gesture.
Brandon wondered if Naomi had also been a victim of that evil man. The thought of both her and Alison, six years old and scared with dirty faces, sacred hands, and no way to defend themselves made him sick, and angry.
He took a deep breath. He'd find that man, and he'd let Alison kill him.
"Am I understood Marines!" The admiral shouted.
"Sir, yes sir!"
Sgt. Mathews called the crew to attention, and then Osman dismissed them.
The aircrews filed out to their Pelicans, as did the ODSTs, who also linked a warthog to their dropship's undercarriage, while Kilo-5 boarded tart cart.
Devereaux ran to the cockpit along with the airmen that had accompanied her to act as her support crew, told them not to touch anything, and then began to run a preflight checklist, Mal and Vaz checked their weapons and threaded suppressors onto their rifles, and Brandon sat there and took a deep breath.
He remained himself that this would all be okay. This wants the Covenant they were fighting, it was a small group of rebels. They would be in and out before anyone ever noticed. For a moment, his mind was clear, then he heard two sets of Mjolnir armor on the boarding ramp.
Alison sat down next to him heavily, and Naomi sat across from him. He couldn't tell through her face shield, but he was certain she was still actively criticizing Alison's decision to go with him. Alison, however, didn't seem to worried at all. When the boarding ramp closed and the cabin lights dimmed the first thing she did was reach her hand over to grip his leg, hard.
He let out an audible breath that thankfully his helmet contained, but he knew Alison was probably laughing quietly inside her own.
"VISR check," said Mal as he reached up to turn on his helmet's night vision capabilities.
Alison and Brandon reluctantly removed their hands from each other to do the same, and suddenly their world was outlined by a fluorescent green. Brandon looked over at the outline of Alison's impressive armored form. She'd survived hundreds of battles, and this one would be no different they'd all make it out fine. Then they could deal with real problems.
Brandon tuned his radio to the command channel to listen in on the the final preparations before their take off.
"Athena-6, actual, this is Tart Cart-4, standing by breakaway," said Devereaux.
"Tart Cart-4, go for breakaway. Orbital entry vector- longitude 24 degrees, 45 minutes, 16 seconds, latitude 68 degrees, 12 minutes, 36 seconds, Athena-6 Actual," responded Osman's through the radio.
"Orbital entry vector- longitude 24 degrees, 45 minutes, 16 seconds, latitude 68 degrees, 12 minutes, 36 seconds, Tart Cart-4," she read back.
"Read back correct, Tart Cart-4 you are clear to proceed, Athena-6 Actual."
And a moment later Brandon felt the engines kick in.
Somehow or another this would all work out.
AN: For those of you who are fans of my others fics and OCs, yes, that is the same Willow Mathews from Home is Where the War Is. I always thought she was one of the more interesting characters I created, and that she was wasted on that story. As for how she stayed in the UNSC, I have timelined out what happened to her between then and now so I can eventually wrote it up as a story. For now, however, she's back, and I hope I do her justice.
See you soon Spartans.